A/N: Welcome, readers, old and new. This is the rewrite of my first story, Gardevoir, My Angel. I stopped writing the story near the climax of the second book, and, due to personal issues, lost motivation to continue. However, I'm back now and ready to give it another shot. For now, only the Prologue will be posted. I plan on finishing the story, or at least the first book, before posting again. This could change, depending on how many requests I get.

I want to thank all the readers who stuck through the story so far. Gardevoir, My Angel has hit over 15,000 views, and over 60 follows/favorites. I hope that this new story will do even better. I'm not very far into the rewrite as of now, so for the time being, I will consider SYOC submissions. Whether or not I use any, I haven't decided yet. Feel free to go back and read the original, if you'd like. It starts out pretty slow, though.

For now, that's all I have to say. Good night, and happy reading and writing. It's good to be back.

-Orthros

There comes a moment in everyone's life where you realize your life is over. Where your fate comes to light, where you utter their last breath. The time at which you realize the truth, and your soul slips Onward.

Many people are defiant in their final moments and do not wish for it to end, you might say. But that is unrelated. I do not speak of a person's final moments, but rather their final moment, in which your consciousness releases it's grip upon the Earth.

What's the difference? Everything. I should know. I died already, after all.

I felt many things in my final moment, but the most overwhelming one was kind of hard to describe. Peace, perhaps. It certainly was peaceful, compared to the time before that, at least. Another could be relief, in the sense that my life had finished.

A wise man had once said "not to pity the dead, but the living." And he was sort of right. The feeling of death was far better than I expected. But along with it came a hollow, lonely feeling of losing my friends. Even people I thought I had no love for, I came to miss. Only the knowledge that I would see them again comforted me.

I still don't recommend dying, at least, not before your time. You lose more than I think it's possible for you to realize. Although, I may not be the highest opinion for that… I'm not even sure if I died at "my time" or not. Perhaps I should consult… Never mind.

Another saying that gets tossed around goes something like "your loved ones are watching over you from above, protecting you, always," and that's also only half right. After all, I'm watching my friends finish up my funeral right now, far below me, and I can't do anything to interact with them, much less "protect" them. Root for them, perhaps, but not much else.

Evil comes in many forms, but there's one thing that every form has in common: None of them are the worst. There will always, always, be a new level of horror that one can sink to. If I could tell the people kneeling at my grave any one thing, it would be that. Not that I love them, no, they already know that. Now all I can do is pray.

There's a couple of pokemon kneeling at my grave, one crying, the other rubbing her back softly. A few people stand behind them, grief and anguish in their eyes. After a couple more minutes, they slowly pull the pokemon away, gently leading them out of the graveyard.

I'm glad they did. They have plenty of work to do, after all.