Rebecca served yet another tankard of ale to yet another patron who probably shouldn't be drinking anymore. The Mullins, the kindly couple who owned the tavern where she worked, always said to keep serving them so long as they kept paying and didn't get rowdy. She didn't mind. She always carried a knife, just in case, and tipsy travelers were excellent sources of information.
This one, for example, had just begun telling a travel story, a few of the village children hanging on his every word.
"So, there I be, in the inland mountains, and damn if those ain't one of the most brutal places I ever been. I be lost, starvin', an' pretty sure I be dyin' right there, when I look up, and one o' them dragons flies down and lands right in front o' me."
That got Rebecca's attention. She was always looking out for stories about the dragons, or any of the other strange creatures that had, according to the stories, spontaneously appeared in the world 300 years ago.
"What kind was it?" she asked.
"One o' them yella ones."
Yellow, huh, she thought.
"How did you escape?" asked a boy.
"You know, lad, that be the weird part. I swear to Arceus above, that dragon done showed me the way off the mountain."
"Wow," said a girl.
"You know," Rebecca said. "The yellow ones don't look all that scary."
"You've seen a dragon, Miss Rebecca?" asked the girl.
"Sure. All the time up on the mountain. And for fire-breathing lizards, the yellow ones look downright friendly."
The mountain near the village was more a large hill than a mountain. It certainly couldn't hold a candle to the sheer, imposing height of the inland ranges. Rebecca and her father lived in a small but comfortable house about halfway up.
Suddenly, the tavern door opened to admit a gust of chilly night air and three men wearing travel-stained cloaks. Two hurried to warm themselves by the fire; the third stood in the doorway for a long moment. Rebecca realized with a start that he was staring at her.
"Hey, close the damn door!" snapped another patron.
The man let the door fall shut and joined his companions by the fire. As the three men removed their cloaks, Rebecca saw that underneath they wore light armor bearing the sigil of the Dragon Slayers.
If the Slayers were in town, she needed to know why. She filled three tankards almost to the brim with Mrs. Mullin's strongest ale and left the bar to serve the three men at their seats by the fire.
"So," Old Man Wallace was saying, "what brings the Slayers to Telnor Village?"
"Rumors," said one of the men.
"There're always rumors," Wallace said. "If His Excellency thinks it's serious enough to send three Slayers to a backwater like Telnor, it must be more than a mere rumor." Rebecca winced at Wallace's tone. There was little love for the king in Telnor Village. Most people thought he didn't care about a backwater like this and would quickly sacrifice it were Hoenn or Kalos to invade.
"Rumors," the one man repeated, "of the White Dragon."
That statement got mostly blank looks.
"I take it you don't know that story."
"I do," Rebecca said, handing the men their ale. "It's said that the dragons take their marching orders from a true monster. Easily three times the size of any dragon we know to exist, pure white scales. Supposedly it constantly radiates an aura of pure flame that roasts anyone who gets too close." Rebecca faltered slightly. "The stories also call it an agent of the Evil One."
"You mean Gira…" one of the boys started to say before an older patron conked him on the head with a tankard. "Foolish boy!" the man snapped. "Don't you know to say the name of evil is to attract it?" The boy stopped talking.
"She," said the third man, the one who had lingered by the door.
"What?" Rebecca asked.
"The White Dragon is female. We have a credible eyewitness who claims the creature spoke to him, and that it had a distinctly female voice."
"Someone actually saw her?" asked a girl.
"And lived?" added a boy, incredulously.
"Yes. Moreover, he encountered her on the mountain outside this village." There was almost total silence in the tavern at that, broken only by a couple of soft gasps and the sound of Rebecca, who had picked up the poker in preparation for stoking the fire, dropping the implement onto the stone floor.
"But that's just a story, isn't it?" she asked, picking up the poker. "Just a story for parents to scare their kids with, like how Darkrai will give them nightmares if they're bad."
"Maybe. Maybe not. The White Dragon has been sighted all over the continent in the last century. We are here to determine the veracity of this latest sighting, and, if she's anywhere on that mountain, to do our jobs and kill her."
An hour later, everyone had left, those who lived in town going to their homes, the travelers passing through, including the three Slayers, to their rooms on the second floor. The Slayers had given a single gold coin to cover all three rooms, and Goodwife Mullin was in a tizzy over it. Most people in Telnor Village had never seen a gold coin before, much less been paid with one. Rebecca hadn't either, but she was too busy worrying about the way the Slayer had stared at her to freak out over gold.
After Goodman Mullin had given her her cut of the day's wages, better than usual considering the amount of money the tavern had made that day, and after she had shrugged off Goodwife Mullin's offer of an extra shawl to ward off the night's chill, Rebecca began her walk home. The Mullins waved to her as she started off.
"Do be careful on the mountain, Rebecca dear!" Goodwife Mullin called after her.
Rebecca sighed. For her and her father alone of all the villagers, the mountain held nothing to be afraid of. She had walked the same path daily since she was very young. She'd snuck away from the house to go exploring before as well, and so knew the landscape up there as well as anyone. And her father had only been living on it for longer.
She made it home easily. The animals, both the familiar ones and the strange new ones, never gave her any trouble. Her father had dubbed the strange animals "magical creatures," but the name hadn't caught on. Magic, as everyone knew, was the tool of the Evil One. Not that long ago, influential leaders in the Church of Arceus had circulated a report claiming that the creatures' abilities to control fire, water, ice, and so on was proof that their presence in the world heralded the beginning of the End Times.
She found her father out back in the garden, watching an orange-and-black, striped, doglike creature sniffing the plants.
"Hello, Papa. How's the studying going?" Rebecca's father was a bit eccentric. He alone of all the villagers, maybe in the entire country, had taken the time to observe the creatures in the wild, instead of simply believing the Church's reports about their nature.
Her father, Nolan, jumped at the sound of her voice. The creature he'd been watching ran off.
"I've made a discovery," he reported. "Regarding these creatures."
"What?"
"The way they react towards animals that are, shall we say, native to this world is incredible. While amongst their own kind, they exhibit the familiar predator-and-prey relationships. However, they seem to avoid hunting ordinary animals, even though these would be much easier prey. It's as if they are aware of the damage they could do to the balance of nature."
"That's certainly interesting," Rebecca said. She sometimes had little patience for her father's research. "Have you come up with a better name for them yet?"
"I have considered calling them 'Empowered.' Many of them seem similar to familiar animals, like dogs, deer, rabbits, sheep, et cetera, except for their powers. It almost seems as though some force took a bunch of animals and gifted them with these abilities."
"Are you saying what I think you are saying?"
"What?"
"Papa, it sounds like you are saying that these creatures exist by the will of Arceus, rather than in spite of it."
"I suppose I am."
"That's heresy! Papa, there are three Slayers in town chasing rumors. If they find out what you are doing…"
"Slayers? That could be problematic."
"That is an understatement."
That night, an unwelcome visitor or three arrived at the cottage on the mountain. Rebecca had been in bed, but the knock on the door woke her. She crept to the door of her room, from which she could see the front door, intending to see who it was.
Then she realized that her father had beaten her to it. He opened the door, revealing the three Slayers on the doorstep. She ducked out of sight behind the door, surprised to see them there.
"Walden," Nolan greeted.
"Nolan." Rebecca recognized the voice of the one who had stared at her at the tavern earlier, the one who'd spoken of the White Dragon and seemed to be the leader of the three.
"I should have known you'd track me down sooner or later." Apparently, her father knew these men.
"You are the closest thing this area has to an expert on these demons that have invaded our world. We need access to what you have compiled on them. "
That's not good, Rebecca thought. Most of Papa's writings would likely be considered heretical.
While Nolan was likely fuming internally over Walden's description of the creatures as 'demons,' his response betrayed no such thing. "My studies are far from complete. Until they are, those records will not be available."
"Nolan, we must know our Enemy. Your records will be invaluable resources in these troubled times."
"Why are you here, Walden? Surely there are better experts than I in the capital."
"I did not simply come here seeking you."
"Oh?"
"I am here doing Arceus' work. We seek a powerful demon, no doubt a commander in the Evil One's army."
"The White Dragon again, Walden? You are obsessed." Apparently, Nolan had a history with these men, or at least their leader.
"She will not escape my blade," Walden vowed.
"You have no proof she even exists."
"Thousands of eyewitness reports, Nolan, spanning nearly a century."
"None of which were ever confirmed!"
"You have made your opinion clear. We will find the monster with or without you. I will pray for you."
Nolan slammed the door in the other man's face. "Blasted, self-righteous paladin," he muttered.
The next day dawned bright and clear. Another girl would be covering Rebecca's shift at the tavern that night, which meant she had a full day to spend with her father.
Which meant she had to help Nolan with his work.
She wasn't particularly thrilled about that. She'd never completely agreed with what he was trying to do. Challenging the Church was a risky business. Some who did it got to keep their heads; others didn't.
She found Nolan in the kitchen, poring over a notebook.
"Good morning, Papa," she greeted him.
"Morning, Rebecca."
"What are we doing today?"
"Fieldwork," he exclaimed, with an overly dramatic flourish.
Rebecca groaned.
"What?"
"It's dangerous. Papa, they breathe fire."
"Not all of them. Anyway, you have never had a problem on the mountain before."
"That's different from going looking for them."
"No one is making you come with me," he pointed out.
"Well, someone has to make sure you don't get eaten," she joked.
A few minutes later, Rebecca and Nolan were walking down a mountain path, heading for a small pond where they knew the creatures tended to congregate. Nolan carried a satchel containing several notebooks filled with sketches and scribbled notes.
Rebecca had to admit that her father was dedicated to his work. He had a real passion for knowledge; of course he would want to determine the creatures' nature for himself. But he was afraid. So was she.
"Papa," she asked. "What happened last night?"
"You saw that, huh? Let's just say that Sir Walden and I have a history." He spat the knight's title.
"How long has he been chasing the White Dragon for?"
"Nearly twenty years. At first, his concern was proving she existed. Later, after he joined the Slayers, it became killing her, taking her head as a trophy. You know, the usual."
"You can't say the world wouldn't be a better place if she were slain."
"You say that without knowing a thing about her, other than what the stories say. Stories can be wrong, Rebecca, and frequently are. No one actually believes Darkrai exists, for example. He's just a story to scare kids with. We don't know for certain what she is."
"And if the Church is right and she is a demon?"
"Then I'll kill her myself."
Rebecca gasped. She knew her father was a decent archer. He had his bow and quiver slung over his back. But was he really good enough to take out something that powerful?
They left the path and started moving through the trees. Nolan moved more easily over this rougher terrain. The fabric of Rebecca's knee-length tunic kept getting caught on low-growing plants. As a result, he was a fair distance ahead of her when she heard a rustling in the trees overhead.
"Papa," she called.
He turned toward her and then suddenly froze. " Rebecca, get away from there!" He whipped out his bow and notched an arrow, aiming at a point just above his daughter's head.
Rebecca slowly turned and looked over her shoulder. A green dragon stood behind her. It was somewhat insect-like in appearance, with diamond-shaped wings trimmed in red. Its tail was striped in two shades of green, a darker and a lighter, with three small diamond-shaped "plates," also trimmed in red and overlapping to form a fan.
Rebecca was momentarily too startled to panic. The dragon seemed equally startled, solely based on the fact that it wasn't attacking, but that wouldn't last long.
"Rebecca, run! I'll hold it off." Nolan still had his bow drawn, but he wouldn't fire until he knew for certain the dragon's intentions. He didn't want to kill one of the creatures without cause.
Rebecca was about to run when she remembered the story the traveler had told in the tavern the previous night. Was it true? Were all dragons not the bloodthirsty monsters everyone thought they were?
Her hesitation gave the dragon all the time it needed to wrap its arms around her and take off, directly upwards. She screamed, more in surprise than fear. Nolan loosed his arrow, not entirely intentionally, and missed by a wide margin since he hadn't counted on his target's speed. In the time it took him to notch another, the dragon was gone.
Rebecca had initially struggled frantically. Any doubt about the nature of dragons she may have had had been banished by this one's actions, and she was now sure it intended to kill her and eat her. But as the dragon climbed higher, moving at a very high speed, she realized that if it were to let go of her, her chances of survival wouldn't be any better than in the current situation.
She quickly noticed a few things. First, screaming was probably useless at this kind of speed. Second, its wings made a singing sound as they sliced the air, which was almost pleasant to hear. Third, her weight was causing the dragon to fly extremely erratically.
Moreover, the speed at which they were moving turned the landscape below into a blur. Even if she did manage to escape from the dragon's nest before it slew her, she would never be able to find her way home before it caught up with her.
It seemed like they'd only flown for a few minutes before the dragon dove sharply downward. As it neared the tree line, Rebecca saw where they were headed. A massive cavern opened below them, the entrance partially obscured by vegetation. The dragon entered into this cavern, dropping down through a stone shaft. The pace at which it flew, although slower than before, was still quite fast. Rebecca thought she caught glimpses of other dragons peering out from side passages, but she couldn't be sure. Reaching the bottom of the shaft, the dragon leveled out, skimming the top of a small lake, before climbing up slightly and dropping her none too gently on the shore.
Rebecca looked around the cavern. It was massive. Just the fact that a cave this large existed on the mountain and no one knew was shocking enough. The other surprise was, now that she was no longer moving, she could clearly see that it was full of dragons. She saw yellow ones, orange ones, and at least two shades of blue, as well as other green ones. There was another entrance, probably a ground-level exit, on the other side of the lake.
One of them approached her. This one was a blue-green quadruped with large, red wings and red ridges above its eyes. Three flat fins protruded from either side of its face.
The one who had brought her there flew down to land between her and the approaching dragon. The green was taller than this newcomer, but more lightly built. It seemed the blue would win in a fight between the two. Not that it mattered to her. She was going to be eaten either way. Although a fight breaking out might give her a chance to get away.
The blue growled low in its throat, but seemed reluctant to attack. The green growled back, then opened its mouth and shot a small fireball at the blue's feet. The blue turned and flew off.
The green returned its attention to her. She was not fooled. The dragon was not protecting her, other than simply to guard its catch. No doubt taking a human as prey would earn this dragon some prestige amongst its fellows.
The dragon gestured to something behind her. She turned and for the first time noticed the cave behind her. It growled something then lowered its head. Rebecca heard faint rustling noises as something larger than any dragon she'd seen so far shifted within it. She understood. This cavern was a hive of dragons, and this was the queen.
It stepped from the darkness of the cave. Easily twenty feet tall, with pure white scales—or was that fur—that spiked up on its chest and legs. Massive wings swept back from its arms, acquiring a feathery look at their tips. Twin mane-like crests flowed from the back of its head. Its hands and feet sported wicked looking claws. But the two most striking features of this dragon were its conical tail, which pulsed dimly with orange light, and its icy blue eyes.
The White Dragon was standing right in front of her, and Rebecca, sure she was going to be killed at any moment, couldn't help but notice how beautiful the creature was.
If that was shocking, what happened next was even more so.
It spoke. "Welcome to my home, Rebecca." The voice was strange, heard with the mind more than with the ears, but it was, as Walden had said, clearly female, a calm alto.
Rebecca said nothing.
"Are you not going to greet your host?"
She finally found her voice. "I…If you're going to kill me, please…just make it quick."
The dragon laughed. "I mean you no harm, Rebecca. And I will admit surprise that you have yet to faint. Most humans I have shown myself to have not performed so well."
Rebecca didn't quite know how to respond to that. "How do you know my name?" she finally asked.
"My dragons brought your father to my attention a few years ago." The dragon settled herself down on the stone floor in front of her cave. Rebecca noticed that it was raised slightly above the rest of the lakeshore. "Since then, I have had them observing the two of you. You see, in the last century I have undertaken a mission of a personal significance: to show your people what we truly are."
She gestured to the cavern with a wing. Rebecca looked and saw hundreds of dragons poking their heads out of various small caves and lining the lakeshore, craning for a look at what their queen was doing.
"Your father seems to be the only human I can trust to listen to me, but I needed to create a situation in which coming here was in his best interest."
"So you kidnapped me?" Rebecca yelled.
"I will not keep you here if you do not desire to stay. I am offering you a choice as to whether or not to aid me. If you say no, I will have Flygon," she gestured to the green dragon, "take you home."
"Can I think for a second?"
"Of course."
Rebecca thought. The dragon sure seemed sincere, but surely a demon could easily take on such a mantle to hide her true intentions. The Evil One's servants were supposed to be as heartless and cruel as their master. Saying yes to this offer could very well result in a short, painful life and agonizing death. On the other hand, maybe she was telling the truth. Rebecca had only a few stories and the word of an obsessed paladin to support the White Dragon's being a demon. While she had the evidence of her own eyes and ears to support the opposing argument.
Papa always said you can't draw conclusions without evidence, she thought. Concrete observational evidence.
But was it worth taking the chance that Walden was right? Something suddenly occurred to her. Where was the aura? The stories said that simply getting too close to the White Dragon could burn someone alive. Well, here she was, about ten feet away from the creature, and completely unharmed.
I wonder what else the stories got wrong, she thought.
"Have you made a decision?"
Sheer curiosity finally got the better of Rebecca. "I think I'll stay."
"Excellent." The dragon stood and raised her voice so the entire cavern could hear. "From this moment forth, the girl comes under my protection. Any who do her harm will face my wrath. That is all." The dragons all left, vanishing into their caves or, in a couple cases, into the lake.
"So," Rebecca said, "if I'm going to be here for a while, I'll need something to call you other than 'White Dragon.'"
"My name is Reshiram."
AN: Here it is, finally. The prequel to Uprising, which will set the stage, in some ways, for it. There's already some background up on my page, but this will hopefully provide more detail.
Writing this story was really interesting for me, because I really got to put by background into it. I heavily based the Church of Arceus on the medieval Roman Catholic Church. The Slayers are kind of like the Knights Templar, or any other holy order of knights from medieval Europe.
As for using Reshiram in this story, initially it was just because I wanted to. She's one of my favorite Legends, and she doesn't pop up in fics all that often, certainly not without Zekrom. But of course, it makes perfect sense that she would be the one to try and show everyone what Pokemon truly are. It's also kind of interesting to have her labeled as evil considering what the color white often symbolizes in Christianity: purity and righteousness.
Reshiram's plan is actually a win-win for her. If Rebecca agrees to stay, then Nolan comes after her and Reshiram gets a chance to explain everything. If Rebecca asks to go home, then Flygon drops her off and give Nolan a very good piece of evidence against Pokemon being evil.
Also, Rebecca is not a barmaid. I imagined the Mullins' tavern more as a boarding house that just happens to have a bar attached then as a bar that just happens to have guest rooms attached. While I'm thinking about it, "Goodman" and "Goodwife" were essentially the medieval version of "Mr." and "Mrs.", honorifics given to common people.
The title is a reference to Team Rocket's Unova Region motto, which contains several lines that suggest Reshiram and Zekrom.