Missed me? Esplin said as he entered me. A prompt.

Always yours, I answered the ritual-like question. The question Esplin asked almost every time he entered me no longer bothered me.

A pity, too, Esplin commented. It was much more entertaining when you stubbornly refused to say those two simple words, choosing to endure hours of torture instead. Ah, the good old days.

Yes, I agreed.

Esplin wasn't happy today.

I briefly weighed up the option of starting an argument to avoid what is surely to come. Would an argument delay the inevitable? I quickly dismissed the thought at Esplin's disapproval, he didn't want to argue. He wanted me to obey.

He had failed yet again in capturing the Andalites, he would want my pain as substitution. And I had no say in what he chose to do to me, thus there was no point in speculating.

Exactly. I'm glad you understand, snapped Esplin. Then he drawled What shall happen today? And he sensed my fear. He sensed my desperate plea. My mind freezes in helpless defense, as if deluding itself to believe that the reluctance to panic shall earn it some distorted pity. And the frantic attempt to cover the fear, although I know it's futile. Esplin laughed at the confused, shredded pieces of my mind. I see that over the years the thrill of possessing an andalite host had dulled, that Esplin needed to search for new things to keep up, to satisfy the sadistic craving in him. And I wondered if this realisation had ever occurred to Esplin, and if it had, whether it fazed him.

Esplin has changed during the time he had kept me as host. I sometimes wonder about the parts of him he kept secret from me, for surely such parts exist. Did he really have no sentiments at all, as he did decades ago?

What I was doing was wrong. It was not in my right to question what Esplin chose to show me. And I was guilty. Dirty, worthless. This body had been mine, but now it is Esplin's and although it should probably rightfully still be mine, the fact was trivial. To question what Esplin shows me was wrong. Not because it violates some moral of the Andalites or the Hork-Bajir or the Gedd or the Ketran, but because it went against the Tendency. It was offensive, disgusting.

Ready? Esplin asked, anticipation building.

No no I don't want it. Please don't. Just wait for one more minute, please. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry but please just don't, wait for me for one more minute. I'm not ready, I beg you, I beg you…please…

…I'm ready, I said.

Quiet.                                                                                                                            

I was surprised at the response. Why wasn't Esplin getting on with it? Then I realized that there was a Human running toward us. Esplin snorted at my lack of alertness.

"Visser!" the human panted, skidding to a halt infront of us. He continued, not daring to wait to catch his breath. "The… the ships in orbit… Visser… they have… gotten…"

Yes? Esplin snapped impatiently, raising our tail.

"Visser! I apol… apologise… for my… inco… herence! I… this… human body is rather… pitiful… for running… Visser… for running… long distances… Visser!"

If you waste any more of my time, you won't have any host at all, Esplin stated calmly.

"Yes Visser! I… apologise… Visser…" At seeing a slight movement of our body in impatience, the Human trembled and tried to deliver the message. "The ships have reported… that the Andalites… Visser… are still not concerned about Earth."

This was not news, only a fact that was reinforced each time the Yeerk ships in orbit did an evaluation. I wasn't surprised when our tail sliced neatly through the neck of the Human.

The Andalites. They never bother with Earth anymore, especially since Elfangor died. I wondered if Elfangor was the sole reason why the Andalites bothered about Earth at all. I was quite sure that I was forgotten by the Andalites. Why would anyone think about me, anyway, when the political drama had blown over? When Andalites spoke to me they don't see me anymore, all they see is Esplin.

That's because you are my property, fool. You as a person don't exist anymore. I am forever amazed at your ability to cling to your Andalite sentiments in that pathetic way of yours.

Even Elfangor forgot about me after a while, I remember. It stopped being an issue of guilt and duty and turned into an issue of spite and hatred. Freeing me retreated from its place as top priority to allow for spiteful revenge directed at Esplin for making his life difficult and raping him of pride.

Hah! Just goes to show how false Andalites' idea of moral is, once they get over their self pitying selves they are all high and mighty again.

And it was so sad.

Elfangor's not the idealistic angel you held him to be.

…no.

And you see that I'm always right.

…yes.

So sad. I no longer existed in the eyes of the Andaltie people. I was a disgrace, offensive to acknowledge. The ground I walk on and the air I breathe in had rejected me. The world was so close yet so far away. Her breeze that ruffled my fur, her tears that pattered my body and her radiance that warmed me… were in a reality so foreign to me…

…I wondered about Arbat. What did he think of me? Had he stopped caring… Did he hate me? I've done so much wrong. What would he think of me? I didn't remember him… I remembered the blank face of his when he pointed his Shredder at me the other day. I didn't remember him. All I can see is a vague Arbat as a child, sulking in defeat after a tail fight battle, stubbornly announcing that brains were the important things in war, not firepower. But even those images reeked with falseness, edited again and again at the will of Esplin until what was remembered and what was recreated became a blur.

There was the time when he told me he hated me. We were children then. I couldn't remember the event that lead to this memory… perhaps it was only a dream? Imagine being freed… after all these years! I wondered what it was be like? It didn't matter if I was detested, I could start over again.

If Arbat still accepted me everything would be fine, we'd catch up on all the years and be in each other's company. Even… even if he didn't, I had a chance to start over! I would be able to move my own limbs and do what I wanted. To just live with the purpose of being existant was enough and all too wonderful. And again I was caught and swept away in the exhiliation of this longing.

All this time Esplin summoned the horror and heartache of my memory and edited it to suit my present sensibility. The torture was delayed but nowhere near being forgotten.

And I still didn't want it. Give me another minute… please… 

Esplin laughed at my plea and showed me all that he has summoned. He held it until my mind screamed with desperation beyond my control, until the shredded flesh blended into the eerie swirls of the galaxy and all that was in between. Until I no longer knew the Yeerk from the Andalite and the real from the imagined.

And when it was over I quivered with weakness.

Esplin tensed our body and I realized that an Andalite's tail was pressed against my throat.

Morph human, and get out of Alloran, Yeerk, the Andalite commanded. Esplin, seeing no choice, began to morph. I vaguely wondered why the Andaltie wanted us to morph human.

Because he doesn't trust you. You know, you really are stupid sometimes. Years ago, you were smarter. I sensed Esplin's fear.

And then Esplin crawled out of my right ear, and fell with a light splat onto the ground. The Andalite picked him up. Placed him in a lavender box. Closed the lid.

Esplin must be afraid… did they have air ventilation in there? Esplin had only twelve hours left until he died of Kandrona starvation, he had been waiting for his Private Portable Pool to be fixed today.

Alloran-Semitur-Corass! Snap out of that daze and pay attention! the Andalite instructed, slapping his tail blade once against my skull. I am War Prince Ardathe-Tehn-Sixallan and I… differently depending on… because… listening to me?

I was free of Esplin! I stood swaying, paralyzed. I was suspended in the sky, like a dream… My mind rejecting what was happening, huddling into its dark corner in a perverse devotion to Esplin.

Oh, that's such an easy question, I heard Esplin's familiar and confident voice say, through some connection in the lavender box. My mind clung onto the twisted homeliness of the voice. The colour of the box made it impossible for me to see Esplin, especially with these human eyes. Alloran was always a voluntary controller, back then I wasn't skilled enough to capture an Andalite host by myself, now was I? I was a lowly Hork-Bajir controller, for God's sake.

Silence! I'm speaking to Alloran.

An Andalite could fight off a Hork-Bajir controller any day. Plus, Elfangor was there, correct? Two Andalites? I had no chance. Hey Alloran, you know I'm right. You were voluntary. Am I correct?

"Yes," I whispered, following the habit of obedience, the Tendency. I felt suffocated by the air, drowning in the thickness. Esplin, help me, what do I say? Something was awfully wrong with what I said but I was already forgetting the situation. My head swam and I wondered what was happening. I can't do this, I feel exposed and helpless, gripped and choked by the atoms in the atmosphere.

Silence stretched and I begged for Esplin's guidance. What am I to do? What was I expected to do? What was appropriate for such a situation?

That was when I looked up at saw the young Andalite staring at me, War Prince Ardathe-Tehn-Siallan, couldn't have been more than twenty years of age. Staring at me with a look of shock and disbelief. He was fighting to maintain his composure. Yeah, I can just imagine him being the subject of ridicule for holding a positive opinion of me and trusting me to be Andalite in his schooling years. A-heh, a-heh, hilarious.

Esplin's voice interrupted my thoughts, Uh… did Alloran say anything? Alloran, you have to use thought speech if you talk.

Good old Esplin, always knew what to do. I formed a sentence in my mind and prepared to apologise in thought speech.

He said yes, Prince Ardathe muttered.

Oh my God, what did I say? A soft moan escaped my lips and I could feel the blood rushing to my ears. Hear the thudding of my heart against my ribcages, making me dizzy. My body covered with a sheet of cold sweat. My face burned and tears ran down my cheeks. I sank to the ground and clawed at my eyes in sick desperation. Mucus mixed with the tears in stringy saltyness. I felt repulsed by the helpless gasps of breath that forced their way up my throat. I bit my lip but that did no good and I tasted the metallic blood. Spat it out, disgusting, I was disgusting. I couldn't, couldn't snatch the syllable from the air. My heart hurt.

I felt myself being dragged off the ground by a pair of arms and led somewhere…

I was in a room. The room didn't have many featuers, just a couple of safety features. It was probably a spare storage room. A primitive roll of Human toilet paper was thrust into my hand for me to clean my sorry self up. I started wiping at my face, aware of Prince Ardathe observing me while keeping a polite distance away. I didn't know what was expected of me. His expression was calm but I felt intimidated and vulnerable, his gaze pinning me to the wall. I glanced nervously at him once in a while, fully aware of the pitifulness of the act but unable to stop myself. Suddenly a bucket was placed infront of me, I looked up and saw Prince Ardathe holding the bucket. I realized that I'd been mechanically wiping when I was already cleaned, and dropped the completely unrolled toilet paper in the bucket, face flushing once more with embarrassment. The bucket was removed.

Alloran?

I looked up.

You should demorph now. You have approximately one point seven nine percent of your time remaining. Prince Ardathe said kindly. I was greatly touched. In response I flushed and muttered, grossly aware of how rude I appeared.

Yeah, he had the civilty to not add 'if you want to return to your Andalite form'. Don't kid yourself by thinking that thought hadn't crossed his mind.

I concentrated on my Andalite form and began to demorph.

A/N: That's it. The end. I'd continue it if I knew where to go from here, but I don't. I'd probably ruin the impact of this chapter if I continued without a direction because the story would probably trail off and dry up and never be completed. But it won't hurt to keep begging =oP  

By the way, how many kids do Alloran have and what information have we been given of them (eg gender)?

Please review! All comments are welcome.