NOTE :
This story was written in 2011 so the plot will be a bit wonky and the writing is my current style which has thankfully changed
a great deal over the years compared to what it was. Please consider this when reading/reviewing the story. Thank You. : )

Warnings for this story:
Attempted murder, attempted suicide, violence, guns, hallucinations(?)

Disclaimer:
I own absolutely nothing of the Pokémon franchise, it's subsidiaries or partners. I write these stories purely for practice and fun,
and no profit is gained from my publishing of these stories. All character rights remain with their creators.

The full moon had long since reached it's zenith in the night sky. Full, round and pearlescent it dominated the attention of anyone lucky enough to gaze up at it. The stars flickered almost wistfully, yet not weakly. They reminded you of an ancient legend, one of a tribal woman who had created the stars after she had thrown her tears of mourning up into the night sky to honour the death of her . . . mate? Her son or maybe her brother? The legend had long since dulled in your mind like weathered stone and parts had faded completely, released to the throngs of time. You could, of course, ask Uxie or Dialga to fetch the memory back for you, but something so insignificant shouldn't even be a suggestion to waste their time. (Arceus knows that they had more important things to do with their free time than recalling useless tall tales.)Though it had been centuries, maybe even a millennium since you had brought the visage of the sorrowful woman to your mind and even the tiny wisp of the full vision brought a small smile to your face. Though you knew that Palkia had created the stars long ago, and despite her tomboyish attitude, the beautiful glimmers of gaseous material and fire were secretly some of her favourite creations, you still pondered in silence who the star maiden was. Even a tall tale must have a glimmer of truth at it's core, even if there were many embellishments for the sake of drama that enrobed it. Like the layers around a grain of sand that made it into a pearl.

You tipped your head down to peer at your reflection in the crescent shaped puddle that lay next to where you were resting, it's surface rippled with the flora and ocean scented breeze. It had been so long since you had actually taken the time to really look at yourself, besides the accidental glimpses of your face in the mirror-like tiles of the Hall of Origin. Your feathers were ruffled and dull, you couldn't remember that last time you had preened them, truthfully. (You had gotten quite lazy) But the most shocking thing was your eyes, which seemed to be filled with a pooling sadness. When your friends used to comment how content you looked or how your eyes glimmered and crinkled when you laughed, it had made you smile, but that was a long time ago when you remembered the last positive comment someone had made about you. The glimmering stars reflected in the tiny pool in the background seemed a better, less depressing choice for your attention, and you tipped you head skywards. The North Star flickered in a gentle manner, it's periwinkle colour stunning. You knew, unlike most everyone else, that this star subconsciously represented something very special to it's creator, as she had hand formed it herself, and unlike all the other stars, which were left to run their course from conception until death, she never let this one run out of energy. She charged it herself. It was the first star ever to be thrown into the heavens, and it represented her twin brother. Mortals said when they looked upon it that it was the diamond of the night sky, and a compass to all those lost. Diamond indeed but you'd be damned if Dialga could find his way out of Mount Coronet without some aide from his quick tempered sister. Perhaps the unconscious reminder of her twin and her childhood drew her to it? Merely a guess, but an educated one none the less. And even though the set of twins always fought, no bad blood ever rested surely between them. And you were truly envious of this, Darkrai still held grudges over every single time you had stepped onto his island uninvited (which was every time), he had never even made a suggestion that you were welcome within a hundred feet of him. Every invitation you had sent him was surely starter for his fire that night and every request that you come to visit was surely fodder for the dreams of your windpipe and jugular veins being severed with the ebony talons of his hand. Even that one time when you had ventured to his cave to warn him of a particularly strong trainer that was visiting the dwellings of each legendary, he threatened your life and sent your away with omens of death chanted at your retreating back. Shaking the thoughts from your head, you pondered a bit. The thoughts were never really unwelcome per say, as you had never really though of him as anything but an unfortunate choice for a coworker. The mildly amicable relations between you in your sparse childhood years had seamlessly melded into a begrudging acceptance. You simply had to live with the fact that you had to deal with the other, directly or no, daily. And that sometimes the simple closure and acceptance was torn asunder in favour of vicious brawls and sneering words. And you were, surprisingly, completely okay with that, too. The balance had to right itself in different ways, it always did, and would. The boiling tension between you when it was quite would leap into unending week of the previously held-back detest of the others actions. It was part of the acceptance cycle, you guessed.

The meandering sensation that came with letting old thoughts flow began to mingle with the uplifting sensation of the full moon pouring it's strength into you so that you could give the people of Sinnoh the good dreams that you were revered for forming, specially tailored to each mind. But tonight, even with the moon's loaned power, you felt too drained to do anything but lay down and ponder over your condition, your had never taken time for yourself since you had started the task you were given all those millennia ago, and you had never missed a dream-giving, not even when you were gravely ill. It was your sole purpose, right? Your only reason for being created? It wasn't even that strenuous of a job compared to the daunting tasks of Arceus and her children, Lugia and Ho-oh, or the weather trio.

You sighed lightly and hefted yourself up off the dampened grass and into the air. You hovered up to the mean height of the trees and flew in loops, letting your small hands graze over the tops of the evergreen trees that grew healthy and in abundance on your tiny isle. You rocketed over the docks and out over the ocean and to your left your saw the barren trees and lifeless shrubs that were speckled over the unkempt shores of Newmoon Island. They were nearly as disheartening as their owner.

Canalave City's docks and bridge were soon brought into view when the mist parted, and you hovered high over the city, then lowered yourself down to the small area behind the three story library. Transforming into the not oft used form of a human was a bit of an ordeal to you, as it was every month. Feeling your skeleton reform and your muscles stretch and slide over newly grown bones was not among the most pleasant feelings one could experience, and the light that emanated from you was a pain to hide, since you only used this form when you needed stealth. Even you could find nothing good to say of the process itself. However, the outcome was a fairly pretty one, and you adored the pale yellow-gold hair that was trimmed off in a choppy bob, with long crescent shaped tendrils hanging below your jaw line and accentuating your high cheek bones. Your skin was a tanish colour, and your garb was that of light pokémon pelts hung with carved seashells and rounded opals that were sewed flush to the surface with beige thread by you instead of hanging loose and clanking around as they had done previously. There was a woven wreath on your head fashioned of pearly talons, lunar feathers, and dried flowers from an almost grown Starf berry plant. That too was pinned down with bobby pins as it had a habit of bouncing off as you leaped down the paths between towns. Your feet were bare, as with most legendaries that lived a secluded life, and a pair of bracers were bound onto your forearm, studded with half pearls tacked to the nails that were used to secure the leather that it was made of. The moonlight was bright, but even more so was the sunlight that would soon rise in the eastern horizon. And that was completely useless to you, to be honest. Sorry Ho-oh, but the sun just didn't cut it for you. You had not gained but a few seconds from the mostly south but lightly western travels and you might get three quarters of Sinnoh done, if you were lucky.

So you sprung into the trees and leaping beside the path you went, the tips of your toes springing from the cobbled stone of the pathways, streams of glimmering sparkles and a wave of pale mauve miasma sailing backwards from your palms. You finished, of course, the areas around the Spear Pillar and two of the three holy lakes and even the marshy, damp grove where Giratina inhabited was done quickly and quietly, you know that he wouldn't say anything, he was apathetic about just about everything, except his mother and siblings, the way you originally though Darkrai was to be before you met him. But you could never be too careful, of course. You knew word of you missing the area around Sunnyshore and Lake Acuity would come to Her eventually, and you deserved that punishment, in fact, you felt horrid for not finishing the job this instant, but as the trails of pink got fainter and fainter and your jumps got lower and shorter, you knew you would be unable to complete it, even if you had a good few more hours. So you took the long, though less scenic detour back to Canalave so you could finish more of the areas that you missed, and a weight filled your stomach for not going directly to the Hall of Origin and begging for forgiveness that very moment. Even though you knew that you would be found unconscious about half way there from exhaustion. Face first in the mud, reverted to your regular form, if continuity was to have any effect. Though if the full moon lasted for another night, that is if you were lucky beyond belief, you would be able to complete your job and keep the patrons of the region happy. And that was all you could wish for, really. As you reached the shoreline of Canalave City, the sunrise was at your back, and the deep purples and navy hues dulled away, and you flew after them, wishing you had brought a Salac berry with you for a speed boost. They were quite sour with an awkward tinge of sweetness and a rough, hard peel which was a real turn off of eating them normally, but the payoff for what you needed them for now easily outweighed the disgusting aftertaste.

The outside world slowed to the point where you could see every wave that crested and each Wingull who floated near the horizon line, and you poured on speed again, blurring everything into two mixed hues, a deep navy about the sky, and an inky tone below you.

It took a while for you to reach your island, and you knew that five days later, you would be making the same trip back to the mainland for to attend the legendary's meeting that was held bi-weekly at the Hall of Origin, and you would receive your due punishment for your laziness. When you landed, or crashed, to be more accurate, the sun had yet to peep over the line of aged birch that compiled the inner walls of your sanctified grove. Before you became too tired to perform the task , you returned to hovering up above the dewy grass and glided into the woods near the back of the grove.

There was nothing any different about the area from any other foliage-filled area around the island, the trees where the same and the detritus of the ground was undisturbed. A few dozen feet in, the trees had faded to mostly evergreen and an unimportant slab of greyish stone lay covered by decaying brown needles and dirt. You then began to unearth it. The corners had sunk further into the layer of soil and you were disappointed that your human form couldn't fly so that you wouldn't have had to transform out of it to return because the nearly immobile 'hands' of your Pokémon form were nigh on useless for this task. Once the dirt was flung away, you, with a certain precious carefulness, pried the stone from the soil to reveal a hidden stash. The items were placed gently on layers of plastic to keep the dirt off of the contents. They likewise wrapped in shopping bags you had gotten in ventures to shopping malls with Latias, Kyogre, Mesprit, and several others who invited you, you would never have the confidence to invite them, and take their precious time away from them on your whims. Truly, it appeared as if a hoarder had grabbed a random handful of items, and dumped them into a hole. There were combs, clothes, coins from different currencies, polished stones, beach shells, twisted knots from old trees, a darning needle and thread, and a multitude of other objects. Though this might have seemed like a random cache of objects to any normal person peering at it, to you each object had a meaning, however redundant this associated feeling was. So, digging through the objects, you came upon the purse that Latias had given you nearly a dozen years prior. The magenta bag with tassels in hues of pale lavender and blue was quickly filled with the dried Salac berries that were in a zip sealed plastic sack, even though the dried berries were less potent in their beneficial effects, they were much more convenient, especially to you, because the earth here on your island wasn't the loamy, rich soil that any rarer berry need to flourish, perhaps you could grow a few Oran berries if you were lucky and tended over then like a Swanna to her Duckletts. You dropped a few preserved Aspear berries in as well so that Snowpoint City would no longer be problem due to the frigid temperatures. You returned, wary, to the main grove. Not wary of any particular creature, but of whether or not you would be able to finish the job tomorrow, whether the moon would still be full or if your would have enough energy. You watched as the sun's rays tore above your artificial horizon of treetops and then slumbered in the long grass.

The second that hues of ebony and navy streaked the east the next night, and the full moon glimmered you were shooting across the sea at blinding speeds, with no concern for your own safety.

You skidded to a stop several hours later, disgruntled and exhausted beyond any sane belief, before a pool of stagnant water. You were disoriented, and you had been in this spatially unaware state since you had encounter buffeting gusts of wind going over the ocean, and dangerous up-drafts that twisted your avian body in the air. Had you been created with wings, they would have been ripped from their sockets from the brutal force of the winds. But when you looked around the island, something was distinctly off about it, as if it had come from the ideas of a child's nightmare visions. The trees were wilting, some dead and nearly rotting, some marred with great trios of inches-deep claw marks and their placement was different. Any grass on the ground was unkempt and wilting, the salty tang in the air was horrid, and the soil was scattered with angry furrows. The area had a dark aura over it, a miasma that couldn't seem to be pierced by the glimmering hope of sunrise on the horizon.

You knew where you were.

And it certainly wasn't your home.

Your eyes flew open like glassy, bloodshot marbles. This was Darkrai's island, and he was going to kill you.

The growing tension as of late and the growing hostility between every bout of depraved furiousness, which had led to nearly fatal class injuries being sustained by both parties. There had been more death threats as of late, in this little time span, than you had ever remembered before.

For one of the first times in your life, you were very truly and horrifically scared for your life.

Your over-stressed body refused to move, your stunted arms couldn't pry your weighted body from the mud and no psychic repulsion could lift you from the ground. It was futile, but all you could do was try, and staying here was near suicide.

From the nearby woods, grunts and furious attacks taken out on trees resounded from the foliage, and your body still refuted every command you gave it, he might have been a great deal faster, but if you managed to escape now, he might never catch you. He emerged from the nearby woods, sable energy still coating his acuminate claws.

His eyes fell, languid, to the dead grass then trailed up over the surroundings to your body to you, a grimace staining his otherwise stalwart countenance. You flinched at his gaze which was heavy and thick with disgust.

"Why are you here." His voice was grainy, as if from an old film. It broke several times from sheer disuse.

If you tried to run, he would could capture you with no effort at all. He could read you like a book. The more time you wasted, the grimmer a fate you would receive.

"It, it was a mistake! I was just so tired, I though this was my island. I . . . the storm, I just, I got lost."

Your voice was weak and animosity was curdling in the stale air.

He nodded, staring with a ponderous scrutiny. He was probably configuring an idea of the worst he could do to you with any of the objects in a ten foot range. Rather strangely, after a couple of seconds he had still said nothing more upon the matter. He peered up at the full moon which was falling from the night sky while he continued.

"So, are you going to leave now?"

So now hes going to stab you in that back with a Shadow Claw as soon as you turn to leave? Has all of his previous and so called 'honour' launched itself into the sea?

"I can't."

His face constricted as if he had taken a whiff of rancid MooMoo milk.

"Why?"

"The same reason I didn't run away when I heard you through the trees and why I got lost, I'm too tired. I don't have enough strength to move. This is the perfect opportunity for you. Just kill me and-"

"Who the hell said that I was going to kill you?!"

"I implied it."

His face actually portrayed what seemed to be a form of genuine shock.

"Because it's what you always threaten to do to me if I let my guard down. Well, I've made my grave and final mistake."

He tipped his head to the ground and fidgeted his 'fingers'.

"Stop faking it Darkrai, I'm not stupid. This is your perfect chance to finish me off. So just please get on with it will you? At least let me keep a bit of my dignity-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!"

"Of course you are!"

"But why would I?"

"Because its the way you are."

"What?"

"Let me rephrase that, its what you do. Threaten me with death, I mean. And now you've got your perfect chance."

"But I don't want to kill you!"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't fucking want to okay?"

He threaded his fingers through the ghastly white wisps that trailed behind his head like shredded silk. His body language was tense, making it seem as if he wanted to pound his fists into the earth in frustration.

"Will you just fucking leave already or do you want me to smash your head into the ground?"

"If I'm handed get out of jail free card I'll certainly use it."

"You had one a long time ago."

There was no denying it that by this point he was drawing blood from his talons pricking his palms and a miasma of shadow flitted about his fists.

The adrenalin that poured into your muscles let you hover out of his pit-like indentation quick, and it was a physically short but mentally slow trip to to your island where you hid yourself in the forest and fell into a restless, yet abnormally dreamless sleep.

The meeting came in a startling whirlwind, and you hadn't done anything meaningful since your confrontation with Darkrai several nights previous. The meandering around and peering warily out through the tree line at his island which was not as far away has you had though beforehand and seeing nothing could only be done so many times. The thoughts of punishment were far from the front of your mind, and the thoughts of the encounter had to be forcefully shoved away so that you didn't bury yourself in the forest detritus.

So now the 'Stairway to Heaven', or so the mortals had dubbed it, loomed just ahead, and thanks to your lack of legs you only had to hover, and not climb the entire way up. As it always did, it seemed to lead up into infinity, owing to the swaths of mist that enshrouded the last section of its ascent. The trek upwards wasn't as tedious as you remembered it, but the cause was probably the fact that your mind kept wandering off in as many different directions as possible. You barely noticed as the golden door flew open, and you mindlessly took your seat. Darkrai's assigned seat was vacant, which you supposed was both a blessing and a curse.

Arceus took her attendance, mentally scanning for each person. There were only two people missing in total. Darkrai, and Heatran, who was still healing from injuries sustained when several remaining Team Galactic members tried to capture her as a last ditch effort to do something. But they were quickly dispatched by the vengeful Sinnoh Dragons who, you're sure, giddily tore the remaining members to mincemeat and dumped their shredded corpses into an empty dimension. What merciful leaders you have.

The High goddess pivoted and her eyes darkened considerably at his vacant seat.

"Cresselia, do you know of Darkrai's whereabouts?"

You shook your head. Really, no one was ever stupid enough to skip one of the meetings, but if there was one person antisocial (and stupid) enough to do so, it would be Darkrai.

"Yes, well see me after the meeting concludes, will you?"

You nodded, weak from fright, did his absence have something to do with you? You turned your head to the side, and began biting your lip to shreds. You droned out the rest of the meeting, only picking up minuscule blurbs of what was being said. Hearing something about the large influx of tsunamis and earthquakes, or why the Space-Time continuum was acting oddly. You wonder why. Well, that wasn't your job anyway.

After the council had filed out the main door, the building itself seemed so much grander. Maybe it was the lack of the behemoth legends, or maybe it was your worries, making it seem as if your were nothing.

"Cresselia."

You jumped, then turned towards Arceus's calculating gaze, your reverie shattered. Nigh-on reluctant, you hovered to her upraised platform and bowed, your crescent shaped forehead grazing the floor.

"I suppose that you already know why you were called, Cresselia. I should hope that you do not need a debriefing."

You nodded, ashamed.

"No punishment will be given."

You looked up at her, she was so gracious to you!

"Indeed, I know that you have many things resting heavy on your mind Cresselia, and you have rectified the issue without any intervention, under your own free will. I am indeed quite proud of you."

Were those tears prickling the corners of your eyes? God you couldn't cry in from of her, how embarrassing.

"However . . . I would like for you to divulge the thoughts that burden you."

In the process of keeping yourself from crying, and out of respect, you had lowered your head to the floor, but now it shot up again so fast, you nearly gave yourself whiplash. The goddess usually remained out of others personal affairs unless specifically asked for help. She said it was better for them to sort it out amongst them selves and to become interdependent and self-governing, instead of everyone just asking her and her prodigious children all of the answers for their questions in life.

"I know what you are thinking Cresselia, but his could be a potentially serious issue if left unchecked. Especially for your counterpart."

"Is something wrong with Darkrai?"

"I . . . am not sure at this point. However, the hunch I have gotten has only more reason to grow. With his odd behaviours and mannerisms recently, and now his missing a meeting, the first person I would figure that I would go to for information or confirmation was you."

"Arceus, I'm sorry, but he would kill me if I even landed on his island . . ."

And then you stopped. And remembered the events that had transpired merely a half a week ago. The oddest behaviour you had ever seen from him out of all the odd behaviours. It was more pitiful than anything, and that was the only thing you could think of your impressions of the event, even though you you had though that your life might have been on the line. He had been confused. Very confused and repulsed by something very close to him. You wouldn't have been surprised if it had been you. But it wasn't, oddly, because he didn't kill you.

"Cresselia, please relay the information quickly, this issue might quite possibly be urgent! I know that you do not know of his current whereabouts, but have you seen him in the past few days?"

"I . . . well I landed on his island after returning from the first attempt- it was an accident! And I was weakened, I, couldn't even move or manage to hover even a little bit. He came out of the forest, furious, or maybe he was simply infuriated or exasperated with something. I was sure it was me, and I kept egging him to kill me, just get it over with. I though he would! With all the threats he usually gave me. You've heard him."

She nodded. Of course she had, everyone had heard him threaten to rip out your throat. You never said anything back however. You never had the heart to. It just wasn't in your nature. But you had noticed that he often cut off his threats, lately, before he finished. Seemingly resentful that they had come from his mouth in the first place.

"But he refused! He only got more bitter every time I had said anything. He - he was screeching at the end of it! I'd never seen him like it before. I, I just don't know . . ."

You looked up at her, you were on the verge of tears from your spiel. It was hard on you, both physically and mentally to see your counterpart in that horrid state. The emotions of counterparts were shared. In fact, his total lack of energy was probably the reason why you couldn't finish the dream-giving in the first place. His depression had certainly taken a toll on you as well as him.

You watched, anxious yet complacent as she crossed her pointed hooves in the air. You couldn't solve this without her help. She closed her eyes, and tipped her head towards the star-filled ceiling. Her serious contemplation was making you nervous, this couldn't be that big of an issue?

"I suggest you make haste to his island, I will follow quickly, but I must check one thing before I leave. I have a feeling that this issue has taken a turn for the worse."

"What if he's changed his mind?"

"I have a sporadic foresight ability. Though I gave the ability to see the future, and to alter it, to Dialga. However, I still have tiny vestiges of that previous power withing myself. I have a grave feeling that something deeply serious may happen if you forsake my suggestion. It may be nothing, and I know that I do not control you, but I must urge you to go anyway."

"I don't think that I'd trust him not to make an attempt on my life after he's had a chance to think about his decision."

"Cresselia, I do not believe that it is your life that should be worried over if my predictions are correct!"

You looked up at her, confused and wide-eyed.

"I will be right behind you, I simply need to speak to my children for a moment in case of an emergency and they will arrive via portal to the island."

You pivoted, then flew towards the doors and threw them open in haste, the stairway you simply flew straight over, and lost no altitude in doing so. The land of Sinnoh spread out before you once the perpetual cloudy cover and freezing precipitation of the area about Mount Coronet faded. The azure of the ocean broke over the horizon and you lowered yourself down to where the spray stung pricks on your hands and face, where the downy feathers did nothing to protect anything at all.

The twin pair of islands seemed to erupt from the churning sea as they appeared in your vision. Even from the large distance between you and them, the difference was obvious. The more yellowy bright tint that coated your was in juxtaposition with the dull, jet tints of the dead trees and rotting shrubs that composed the foliage of Newmoon island. And it seemed brooding, as the distance was cut, more and more, darker and darker.

A near wall of rain, thunder, and shadow seemed to enshroud the island, giving it an enigmatic appearance. It was unnaturally abrupt, but what your Goddess had said to you, even despite your own growing apprehensions drove you onward in spite of the oddities that you were sensing. When you hit the wall a sense of dizziness came over you, and you spun around, the place outside the perimeter of the storm was now identical to the conditions you were now in. You must have been hallucinating. So you turned about again, and continued on.

When you nearly crashed into the grey sand of the island's beach, all you could smell was rotting wood and mold, dampness and the acrid-thick sea salt. You nearly vomited with the combination of nervousness and the heavy scent. You hadn't purposely been to his island purposely for many years, and you usually landed in the central grove. But the wind was far too strong to continue in the were lost, wandering the shores with a growing sense of impeding loneliness, until you camp upon an aging stage. The building's wood-shingled roof had sagged, and nothing but a Ratatta would find it an acceptable home now, the formerly red paint was peeling in scales, showing the faded grey wood underneath.. The wharf itself was rotted and it bowed in the center where some supports had been washed out. In a great deal of luck, pathway made of birch logs, cut length-ways and inset into the ground still remained.

Further in, you found the remains of a dory, it's oars nearby and in splinters as the path ended and only a worn trail remained.

But you were worried, beyond worried, you were scared. You had never seen Arceus, mother of all, worry over anything unless it involved a life or the universe. And this particular problem involved neither. Though her last statement had made it seem like someone could and very well might loose their life depending on the choices you'd make. The only thing ever to rest on your slim shoulders was the good dreams of the people of Sinnoh. But even a traitorous, inky life like one of a thief or sinner was a great life, something you had seen and will see for the rest of your life. Every time you delved into the reaches of a mind and planted a dream there, you feel the stringent complexity, even that of a human soul, confound you.

As you progressed, there was nearly no saturation in the colours of the forest, the monochrome sheer which fell over the damp, ancient foliage, barren ground and churning, clouded sky drained energy from you. It made you feel hopeless, a foreign sensation to you. You wanted to cry.

How could anyone live in this place at all? It was one of the most dreary places you ever had the misfortune of being in. Tied with Giratina's realms, quite a feat to accomplish, surely.

Sometimes the path disappeared completely, and you meandered about, until by the luck which still seemingly trailed you from your incidents beforehand, you found it entering into existence again. The trees grew higher and more convoluted as you trekked deeper, and you were sure you were either lost or the path was leading you in circles because the island was fairly small from an aerial perspective, and it was about the same size as yours.

After a good ten minutes of confused and slow wandering, odd sounds began to emerge from the forest and the trees began to thin, and gained great tears and sear markings. Some still smouldered, as if new, very new, as the dampness should have smothered them if they were more than an hour or so old. And the sounds became sad. They were dismal, and how began to shoot forward faster, that was a sound you never expected to come from Darkrai, and he never let anyone willingly on his island. You ignored the path and went forward, sharp thistles and thorns raking over your underside, scoring scratches that stung. You huffed when the treeline broke, you leaned with one hand against a rent tree, it's bark was craggy under your feathered palm, hooking on the downy covering. Something in your chest became tangible and it sunk into the pit of your stomach.

Darkrai was standing, back to you, swinging a revolver in this right hand.

You backpedalled until you smacked against a tree a meter or so behind, and you felt the tension become palpable in the air. The silence was roaring, (or maybe that was just the rushing blood in your ears) and every crackle of twig and leave bending from the physic force of your levitation was sharply audible. Then he laughed. A horrid, deranged sound that couldn't have been sane emanated from his mouth. The sky was churning with clouds as dark as the emptiest reaches of space, intertwined with crackles of neon lightning that split the sky and thunder that rattled your bones. You had known that he was mentally deranged, but this. You, you didn't know it could get like this.

"Well, you threw that card away pretty fast, didn't you?"

"I was told to come here. You're crazy. I knew it, you're fucking crazy Darkrai you-"

"Yeah whatever, really, that's not important now. However, what is important is the fact that you're here to see it happen. You'll be happy to know, I'm sure, that soon enough you won't have to deal with me any more."

"What-"

"I'm done with this, you see? This entire world, it's all bullshit. Being the goody two-shoes that you are, or try to be, I should say. Because that's just a little facade you have put on there. You're one of the most absolutely bitchy people I ever had the displeasure of meeting. And I hate your guts."

"It's not like I didn't know that already."

"Yeah, well, I'm tired of it. You and your hoity-toity bullshit and lies. I'm done. Congratulations, you're horrible enough for a guy to want to commit suicide just to get away from you."

"What in the bloody fuck are you going on about now? You need help-"

"Ah- I needed help. I'm fine now, I know what I have to do. I also know what I want to do with you."

"What the fuck Darkrai, give this tauros-shit up already!"

He laughed, this was fucking insane, he was insane, he had jumped off the deep end and not even Lugia and Kyogre together could pull him out of the water now. You had to get away, but what Arceus had said earlier. Ugh. And, god, what the fuck. You felt that pressure in your gut that you had felt before, this awareness to something weighty that was settled in your chest. Dense and unmistakable, you searched for it's meaning while the maniac that was your counterpart swung a revolver around in his hands, tossing and catching and spinning it around his pointer talon as he pondered a bit more over what would be on the shooting end of the gun by the end of the next ten minutes.

And you finally came up with an answer; worry. Fear was certainly present as well, but the worry was overpowering. Where the hell it came from and who it was for was a mystery, but what it was was beyond a doubt. And as you watched him tip his head to the side, the pelting rain that had drenched your feathers passed trough his translucent form. He spun back to you, and you jolted, there was nowhere to go. The bolts of lightning that rocketed down from the sky would electrocute you before you got away from this death-trap of an island.

"I have two bullets in this gun, Cresselia. Can you guess who they're for?"

And he pointed the black pit of a barrel towards you.

Nothing in the world seemed relevant, you could see the malice pooling in cyan, his pose was strong and the wind whipped the ghastly bits of his form about. He stared down the length of the revolver and you stared into the jet of the opening, hypnotized.

A familiar voice, clear and frantic swept into your mind. ' Charge at him! Quickly!'

With nothing left to lose, you did. The searing steel left a burning furrow in your flank, and a line of pain seared across you, white blisters bloomed across your vision before you tackled him to the muddy earth.

A confounding blackness came over you like a shroud.

But as soon as it came it was gone again, leaving you bruised and left with a fiery streak which poisoned you with a potent agony. You felt weak, spatially lost, and feverish.

But you felt something odd, the ground felt gritty underneath you, and though the air was fairly damp, it was nothing compared to the soggy mess it had been not a second beforehand. No rain pelted you and your feathers were dry, though mildly dirty. You peered upwards at the sky, and it was simply churning and grey, not the putrid indigo-violet colour it had been moments before. Darkrai was beneath you, his eyes tightly shut and hand death-gripped around the grip of the revolver. It was the one that Giratina has given him many years ago, carved with ivy leaves and intricate Solanum nigrum, nightshade berry clusters.

You slapped the gun out of his reach, and he twitched, inhaling deep and sharp. He shoved you off to the right, and his piercing cyan eyes were pointed point blank at you.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

"What the fuck was that?"

"It was my nightmare, you dumbass. Now fuck off this island before I actually shoot a bullet down your throat."

"Why were you shooting at me when you said before that you didn't want to fight?"

"Because we were in a god damn projection of a dream, Cresselia. I figured you would notice. It wasn't actually me."

"You're not going to commit suicide then, are you?"

"Oh Cresselia, always the caring one. Ignoring the fact that I was shooting for her neck before I went for my own."

"So you're not-"

"I will if you don't leave me the fuck alone!"

You were about to pivot around and make a getaway for your island, but a great slash of magentas and mauves spilled out of a gash in the fabric of space itself behind you. Out stepped three large figures, and three small ones. Two great dragons, one navy, one mauve. Your leader, white as snow and detailed in lace-like gold. And the spirits, each a light blue with shimmering ruby gems embedded in their delicate tails and foreheads. Another similar light exploded out, but much smaller this time, and it was from near Darkrai's feet. The gun dropped with a dull clunk into Palkia's awaiting hand. All Darkrai did was stare, it was all he could do, really.

"So it was all a dream, or a projection of it. Was it not?"

The both of your remained silent under their heavy gazes.

"Indeed. Cresselia, come closer, let me heal that wound of yours."

And you hovered forwards slowing and stopping a half a dozen feet from her pointed hooves. She bowed her head, gently grazing the gold plate on her forehead to the downy feathers of your crescent crown. The sensation was not at all foreign to you, as it wasn't to any Legend who grew up under the caring eye of Arceus and her children. The side of your body cooled, them warmed, tingling, nothing uncomfortable, but odd in any sensible description. It was pleasurable, and you were a bit disappointed when the feeling of lightness left you, leaving you thrown back into the gravity of the current situation.

"Well, to clarify what has just happened, it was a projection of a nightmare, one often seen by Darkrai, onto the real world."

Dialga carried on with his mothers words in his perpetually stern-tinted voice.

"Due to stress between the relationship of the two counterparts, he projected it onto his island and himself."

"And that's that." Palkia finished. She tossed the gun, which seemed harmless in comparison to her thick pearlescent scales and large size, in between her clawed hands like a tiny trinket. Though to your downy feathers and light stature, the gun was frightful, even in it's appearance and you were confused that it could be turned into a toy to be tossed back and forth in boredom from a murdering object just by the switching of hands.

"You were truly afraid those things would happen, weren't you?" Arceus asked.

He said nothing, but turned his head to the side so he could stare unabated into the gloomy depths of the forest.

"You must tell us about these things Darkrai, or they may very well come to fruition."

Mesprit moved about the trunk-like legs of her infinitly older draconic brother to speak to your counterpart.

"You were afraid of seeing Cresselia die. You were afraid that you would be the one to perpetrate the act. And you were also afraid that you would become the monster that everyone has made you out to be. If any one of those things does not align with your thoughts from minutes previous, please correct me.'

He made no move nor sound to show that he was going to correct her nor that he even knew that she had spoken, or that she was even present on his island.

"Darkrai, did you hear-"

"Yes."

"Darkrai, listen to me" Arceus said. "Your constantly stewing over your own fears in such a manner of spirit can bring them into realization in the physical realm. When you start repeatedly thinking over such a malignant thought, you should talk to someone. You can always talk to any of us in the Hall of Origin, you know that. We are all family."

He said nothing, his eyes were shut and he was a silent wisp of black and grey and crimson on an equally bleak landscape.

"Or talk to her."

He spun around to stare at your leader. And you too gazed.

"She will always be there for you, Darkrai, even when you don't need it, or when you think your don't, or when you wished that you didn't. You are made to console each other. That is what a counterpart is. But in what directions you choose to intensify that relationship of counterparts is up to your own spirits."

"Dreaming spirits are the most free," Said Uxie, coming from behind the shadows of his older sister, "their wishes are the most intense, and they often get what they dream for. If you both truly want something, know it through and through, have the will enough to wish and be patient, and the emotions to support it all, you will find yourself in a living dream. However, it can turn to the other side very quickly. Care and caution need to be taken with your minds, your most powerful tools."

She backed behind her sister again, clearly finished.

And you were tired. Too tired to move. The wound, even in the short period before it was healed, had drained a great deal of energy from you. And the emotional aspect had left you dry and crumbled, and you were sure that your counterpart was even more so, being an even greater amount unused to the deep emotional stimulation that today taken thrusted upon you.

But in retrospect, you would be willing to help him, he could be his own kind of charming, in a way. In a very odd way that would take a great deal of squinting and perspective twisting, but it was there, and you could see it. That was the main thing.

Authoress's Note :

If you're wondering about the odd fanfiction title, the reason for it is actually because, in their original formation, they were in tiny four inch high by three inch wide notebook (that had a greyscale cover of roses) with several hundred pages. So this means that there will be more eventually, when I get to retyping more of them. As I'm currently on a one month bursary to Québec and neglected to bring the notebook with me, it'll be a while before I can start again. As for now, please enjoy this story, and another short one which will be posted tomorrow. : )