A Secret No More
She slept.
Down in the depths of the crystal lake. Enclosed by a bubble to protect her from the frigid water outside.
She dreamt.
She saw though the eyes of a ponyta as he thundered down the great plains. She felt the mankey's muscles tense as he prepared himself for a leap to the next branch. She smelled the same fresh nectar the butterfree smelled as he dug his head into the flower's sweet center.
Wait, what was that? A new sound crept to her delicate ears. A sound of many heavy footsteps blundering through uneven terrain and the sound of a blade slashing through vegetation. She opened her eyes for the first time in years and stirred uneasily in her transparent shelter. There are strange creatures up there...not Pokemon then it must be... what are they doing in her territory?
A pink aura surrounded her and with a single thought, the bubble began floating to the top. She broke to the surface and with powerful kick of her hind legs at the air, the mew floated off to the direction of the sounds.
The Pokemon that inhibit the jungle sensed the strangers as well. The mankeys scurried nervously to the safety of the canopy while the butterfrees flew to another grove. She wasn't afraid but determined to find out the stranger's purpose. She glided through the flock of butterfree who, out of respect, parted to clear a path for her. There below was the torn up path created by the strangers. She followed it until she saw the cause of the destruction. Yes, just as the mew thought, humans but not like any she ever seen.
She hid herself behind the ferns and peered through one of the torn leaves. They were heavily clothed unlike the natives that used to inhibit this jungle. There were four of them, all male, and each was wearing a safari hat and struggling with heavy backpacks. The one up front carried a long machete which he used vigorously whenever a plant stood in his way. She cringed every time he sliced through one of the plants but kept her distance. A mew will never bring pain to another unless the mew itself was in jeopardy.
The machete human stopped in his tracks and uttered something to the others. The mew strained to catch what he was saying but couldn't understand the language. Not only did these humans dressed different, but spoke different from the humans she's accustomed to. The human then pointed westward which caused the other humans to smile and nod their heads. She looked toward the direction the human was pointing at and froze. Off in the distance, was the ruins of the Temple of Mew.
It was once beautiful, the Temple of Mew. The natives worshiped the mew as the protector of peace. Now that the natives mysteriously disappeared over the centuries, the Temple was neglected and left to its fate. More humans came after the four that arrived. Tents were pitched up and fires glowed their warmth at night. It wasn't the structure of the temple that the humans were interested in but by the ground surrounding it.
She watched quietly, always out of sight. A tear appeared at the corner of her eye and with her tiny paw, brushed it away. The Temple of Mew wasn't just a place of worship, but a burial place of the Mew. The Mew bury their dead and since the Temple of Mew was a safe place and seemed right to use it as a burial ground.
She approached closer to a tent and the growlithe that was placed there to protect the tent, began to growl uneasily at the presence he sensed. She sent him a calming image with her psychic power and the growlithe blinked sleepily and curled up into a ball. There were humans inside and she peeked through the flap to see what they were doing. There were four of them gathered around a table. They spoke in whispers, but she could tell they were excited. When the human that was blocking her view moved, she saw what they were so excited about. In a glass case, glowing a greenish aura from the chemical the humans poured on it so the abstraction of the DNA would be easier, was a single Mew bone.
She floated a few inches away from the tent in disgust and had to restrain herself from barging into the tent in fury. A Mew didn't live for eight centuries from being careless and she's only a youngster at two centuries. Angry, she floated away toward the mountain Ki'Shan. There's not much she can do, with only a few of her kind left scattered throughout the world she didn't want to risk capture or death by the humans. She prayed silently to herself that the humans would treat the bones of her ancestors with respect though deep in her heart, she very much doubted it.