DISCLAIMER:
This is a slightly changed retelling of the fangame "Pokémon Insurgence" made by TheSuzerain (lead developer), Deukhoofd (Online developer), EchoTheThird (lead artist), LunarDusk, DankRabbit, ZeroBreaker (artists), MrSinger186 (musician), 1ofthe4rocketbors (wiki admin), Demonknight, Sleepymon12 (alpha testers).
The game is available as a download, and, in my opinion, worth a try.
Neither the story nor the characters are owned by me, they are property of Nintendo/Gamefreak and Pokémon Insurgence's dev team.
In addition, I'd like to add that I'm not a native speaker and this project mainly focuses on me improving my English, thus, I'd gratefully accept any advice regarding spelling/grammar/punctuation.
And now, without further ado, the story.
Enjoy the read ^^
Grey clouds, promising a thunderstorm, hung from the sky, covering up every single, shy sun ray that tried to reach the people's hearts. The stage, just east of the Jade Tower in Helios City, was illuminated by a few hastily set up lights. Everything else lay in darkness. Truly, it was a dark day. A dark days in dark times.
"Religion...Cults..."
A voice was raised. A single voice, speaking against the storm, threatening to overtake all those people.
"I can only scoff, talking about such things, talking about religious fanatics and cultist that aim to destroy the very core of our beautiful region. Our community. That aim to divide us, enslave us, to steal our future, our hope."
The blonde man's word were dragged far away by the howling wind, which almost sounded like furious howling. They were dragged to every core of Torren, reaching every ear, every heart. And they listened. Willingly.
"They are the storm, promising a new start, but corrupting our minds! They are the sea, striking us as refreshing, but drowning our hope! They are the fire, looking comforting, but burning our souls! They are the dream, beginning as a fairy tale, but extinguishing our soulfulness! They are the experiment, indicating progress, however, in fact, LEAVING THIS COUNTRY DISFIGURED!"
His last words were shouted, anger igniting his them, anger and hate. He spat. He inhaled. He regained his posture.
"And they were punished."
His voice was raised, still, raised and shaking. His eyes became teary, glassy. His breathing became shaky. His raised fist fell down again, in disbelieve. Frightened disbelieve.
"They were punished by a great man, a great trainer, the greatest to have ever walked on earth! Our Augur! Our saviour!"
Again he paused, again he had raised his fist, the storm pulling his hair and white clothing. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
"But now...he is gone."
At once, his voice had lost all its energy, all its power, all its hope. Instead it sounded hoarse, sounded lost.
"He is gone. He vanished. Arceus knows where he went. Arceus knows, whether he is still alive,"
Another tear rolled down his cheek. For a moment he stared on his palms, in childish wonder. Those hands…! A second tear followed the first one's path.
When he spoke again, his voice shook even more.
"He disbanded cult after cult after cult until only five were left to TERRORIZE our everyday life. Only five are left, disrupting OUR PEACE!"
He stared at the people in front of him, trying to look into their eyes, to reach their soul. He inhaled. Again. And again. Until he was sure, the shaking was gone, until he was sure, his voice would have regained its strength. Until he knew, it would spread hope instead of fear.
"Only five are left. However, they are left. And our Augur...Our Augur is no more."
He allowed his words to interpenetrate the people's minds, to make them see the consequences of this. To make them see what this truly meant, that this left their region defenceless, without a leader, without a shepherd.
"But I will and cannot let that happen! I cannot allow for these last five remaining cults to DESTROY THIS REGION! SO I WILL TAKE ON THIS BURDEN! I WILL BRING EVERY
SINGLE ONE OF THEM DOWN, I WILL BRING THEM TO JUSTICE! I...I, Jearn, will serve as your new Augur. And I will FIND and PUNISH EVERY SINGLE OF THOSE….OF THOSE...INSURGENTS!"
Insurgents. They would be banished, to another place, anywhere, where their rebellion couldn't spread. Where their rebellion would be remembered, to be a memorial to never challenge the true good.
Jearn looked up, both hands raised, his palms pointing towards the crowd. A crowd that erupted. A crowd that erupted in approval.
And then the rain started to pour down. Dirty, sticky rain, obscuring the past.
Darkness.
Deep, silent Darkness.
It was everywhere.
And in that darkness, there was a voice. Screaming, shouting. Tearing at restraints that only existed in the girl's mind.
„HEMERA! Hemera, wake up! WAKE UP!"
But to her it didn't sound like shouting or screaming or someone tearing at shackles.
To her it was merely a whisper. A buzz. Faint, surreal. And oddly familiar. A whisper that was buried too deep inside the sleeping girls mind.
"HEMERA! He..er.., you...you ha...e to wake ...p. Y… have to ...ake up NOW!"
A face. A screaming face, clad in darkness, overshadowed by oblivion, fading ever so slowly, growing more and more desperate with every passing second, appeared in Hemera's mind, stirring something inside of her.
However, she didn't know what exactly it was the screaming face was talking too.
Hemera moved, her eyes trembled, the small motion going unnoticed by the two men in strange robes, standing in front of grey bars.
Then, suddenly, a frown disturbed her peaceful expression, banishing it, making way for turmoil and exhaustion.
"H...ME…...! …E…E…!"
The faint whisper continued, the voice asking, begging her to wake up, trying to shout, trying to scream, doing anything just to make her open her eyes
All in vain.
Her eyes stayed closed.
Instead she regained her peaceful countenance and sunk back into the depths of her clearing subconscious, undisturbed by all the pictures and voices and smells and feelings that slowly but steadily disappeared from her mind, one by one, undisturbed by the dwindling amount of memories.
Instead, she enjoyed the blissful ignorance, being offered to her.
Then, footsteps. Firm. Authoritarian. Followed by a question. Followed by an order.
"The progress?"
"Hemera, you c...n't ju…t..."
The female voice matched the footsteps. Firm. Authoritarian.
For a split second the Gengar averted her attention from the girl, watching the tall woman, clad in a pitch black dress attentively. For a moment the girl could rest. However, every moment had to come to an end.
"Everything is going according to our calculations, Miss. We only have some memories left to wipe, then all will be gone", one of the man replied, his eyes twitching nervously, unsure, where to look. Surely her face wasn't an option. The floor?
"W…e up! … up!"
"Very well", the woman scowled,"the...bargain is fulfilled then. I expect you two to attend the ritual?"
"Please!"
It wasn't much of a question, the order being stated clearly through the woman's burning eyes and bidding tone. She never asked questions.
"Of course. The door is locked and Gengar is wiping the girl's memories. No problem has occurred over the course of the process and none will occur. We will be attending."
"You can't just leave like that!"
The whisper. The whisper made it to her sleeping consciousness again, this time so much more...clearly. The words didn't seem to be swallowed by a piece of cloth anymore, instead, they became louder and louder.
But still...the words were faint, but still it was merely a buzz in her thoughts and sleep was so promising, the emptiness so peaceful, the silence so calming…
"Uh...Miss? May I ask a question?"
The voice changed. The third person had spoken. Judging from the high pitch she was scared. For good reason.
"What?!", her superior hissed, spat, already having turned around and not willing to waste any more time on such a trivial matter. She was anxious, so anxious. They had to start now, now! She was soclose…She just couldn't wait any longer. It had been a year...
"What...Uh...What are we supposed to do? After we wiped her memories?"
"Don't l...t t… do …at!
The grunt flinched. However her superior had no intention of hurting her. She simply frowned, shrugged and responded, her voice and expression detached and uninterested:
"Kill her, of course."
She didn't say anything else. The only thing heard for several moments after were her footsteps, slowly dying away in the dark. Authoritarian. Firm.
"…ou hav… to w..."
"If we're going to kill her anyway, why wipe her memories?", one of the grunt stated puzzled, once he was sure his superior had vanished.
"I don't know. I don't care. She hates being questioned and thus, I'm not going to question anything..."
The second grunt glanced to the Gengar, which kept starring at the girl, having noticed the trembles running through her time and time again.
"H…a, p…ase! …o… …av… to … up! W…k… up! Wake up!"
The voice grew more and more anxious with every passing second and again, the girl stirred, her eyelids starting to flatter even more. She was on the point of waking, the Gengar noticed.
"Let's go. We don't want to be late. I'm sure it will work this time...", one of the grunts murmured, deciding the Gengar would deal with any kind of disturbance, should there be any.
The other grunt nodded in responce and both turned away, their footsteps echoing through the dark of the prison, filled with empty cells.
The strange voice echoed through the dark of her mind, filled with empty memories.
The Gengar, unfazed by the girl's movement which had turned out to be meaningless, kept using Dream Eater.
How foolish.
Had it checked on Hemera's mind, it would have been aware of the fight going on in the sleeping girls head, the fight between a more and more fanatic growing voice and her drifting subconscious.
"Hemera!"
Again, the girl stirred.
"Hemera!"
The voice grew louder and louder, but at the same time it seemed to...vanish.
"You...You can't forget! You are called Hemera, you are 16 years old and YOU HAVE TO WA…!"
Wake up.
Her eyes shot open at once. The Gengar recoiled stopping its attack and, for a moment, being frozen.
However, although Hemera had woken up...the voice...the voice was gone.
And thus, the only thing leading her through the darkness, wasn't there to lead her anymore.
So, the girl just lay there, unable to move, unable to progress what just had happened. The voice was gone. The only thing left was silence. The blissful silence.
She didn't want the silence.
She didn't want it any more.
She wanted the screaming, the shouting. She wanted the whispering, the murmuring. She wanted all that had made her mind up, mere hours ago.
She wanted it back.
Now.
Her breath quickened.
The silence that had sounded so promising had become a nightmare. The empty shells of memories, of knowledge that had felt so promising were hollow now. Lies.
Hemera couldn't move. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Her body was limb, her soul shattered, her memories taken away from her. She wanted to scream. But she couldn't. Too empty. She was too empty.
Her heart rate slowed down again. Her eyes began to close again. The silence. The silence, albeit feeling wrong, had been so easy. Just a bit, just a bit of pain and she…
"Mew."
Hemera's eyes shot open again. They were wide open, a distant feeling running through her. Darkness. There was darkness. Only darkness, where something should have been
She managed to turn her head, stare at the Gengar. Astonished. Surprised.
A Gengar. Why was there a Gengar? Where was she?
"Mew."
It looked scared, the Gengar, slowly backing up, farther and farther until it merged with the shadows. Whether it truly had disappeared or merely watched the unfolding scene from a safe distant, no one could say,
"Mew."
Another Pokémon appeared in front of her, slightly illuminating the area around it. A shimmer of hope.
Mew. What was Mew?
Why was the Gengar scared?
She didn't understand. What was going on?
"Mew."
The pink Pokémon nudged her carefully, its blue eyes staring at her, calling her...but why?
She knew her name.
She knew her age.
Everything else was...blank.
Her minds darkness was blinding. The silence was deafening. The emptiness was overwhelming.
"Mew"
Again, the Pokémon nudged her.
Was there a note attached to it?
Yes, a small note.
Shaking Hemera lifted her arm, ever so slowly grasping the small piece of paper. Her fingers looked so fragile. Worry clouded the Mew's expression.
Hemera unfolded the note, her eyes not following the movement of her fingers. Instead she chose to stare at the Pokémon. It was strange. She knew it somehow. However...It was different. She knew what a Gengar was. She didn't know what a Mew was. She only felt like it was...familiar.
Oddly familiar
A faint memory tucked at her mind, distracting her for a second, taunting her to pursuit an empty shell, hiding between all the other empty shells.
What had happened?
The cold forced Hemera to dive into reality once more and she started reading the unfolded, paper.
"Hemera,
I'm sorry that this happened.
However, now is not the time to apologize.
I've sent you Mew to break you out.
If you get it some DNA, it can transform you into the person it belonged to.
You will probably need the DNA of a Darkrai-Cultist.
Goodbye, Hemera"
The girl stared at the note. Turned the paper around.
However, that was all there was to the message,
Some instructions on how to break out of this base (why should she break out? Surely everything outside was far worse than this) and a view kind words from stranger she didn't know and that didn't want to be known.
There also was the Mew.
Frowning, Hemera looked up, examining the pink Pokémon closely. Mew. DNA. Darkrai-Cultist. Was this normal.
If her mind wouldn't be so filled with this screaming emptiness, would she consider this normal? Would anyone consider it normal?
"Mew."
This time it wasn't the cold interrupting her mind.
Again, the Pokémon nudged her, this time firmer. Then it backed away, indicating its desire to leave.
The walls were too close, the hallways too narrow, the air too stuffy and everything emanated a menacing atmosphere.
Mew wanted to leave.
Maybe someone would return to check on the prisoner.
Maybe the ritual was over already.
They had to leave.
And Hemera understood.
Slowly she pushed her cover from her legs. The air was cold, her feet were bare and for a second she froze. Then she moved on.
Quietly she sat her feet on the floor, ignoring the sharp cold, then she got up, biting her lips, before pushing some cloth from her trousers over her feet, to still the pain.
The clothes she wore were black, black and old and made from a scratching material.
Hemera hardly noticed.
She wasn't used to anything else. And if she were, she couldn't remember.
"Mew."
Blue eyes urged her on, trying to convert their hurry. Why where they in a hurry? Scraps of conversations haunted her mind, disguising the answer with their wild dance.
She shook her head.
Again.
And again.
Maybe her thoughts would get sorted…
"Mew!"
Apparently, the Mew wasn't happy having to wait this long and decided to leave the cell, slowly floating through the darkness, hissing at the Gengar, still cowering in the dark and retreating even farther into the shadows cast by the dim lights at the end of the hallway.
For a second Hemera didn't move, her eyes following the Mew's movement. Then she hurried to follow the pink Pokémon, not wanting to be left alone.
A shiver ran through her body, as she hurried through dimly lit hallways, passing cells after cells. Hemera didn't dare to look into the, didn't dare to listen to the occasional groans or voices surrounding her, she refused to see the scrawny, bone-like fingers reaching for her.
She didn't want to see it.
She couldn't stand the truth.
She couldn't stand all the sudden thoughts that filled her mind.
"Where are we going?"
Her voice sounded hoarse and was no more than a whisper, too scared to speak out loud.
However, her curiosity and fear was obvious nonetheless.
Mew decided to ignore her question. Or maybe the pink Pokémon hadn't heard her.
It kept floating. Hemera kept following it. The voice grew more distinct. If Hemera had tried, she might have understood some of the words, coughed by other prisoners, she might have heard the begging.
Hemera didn't try to understand them. Instead, she shielded herself against all those noises, clouding her empty mind,
She wanted her senses to stop, to stop feeding her. To stop working. It was so much, so much, so much, so MUCH.
Hemera shrieked, when she suddenly lashed out at herself, her hand slapping her head, her finger digging into her skin.
It hurt.
It pained her.
It was good pain.
It made her feel alive, more alive than all those voices, than all those limbs and figures, melting into shadows looking so surreal.
This pain wasn't surreal.
It was caused by her.
She could trust herself, couldn't she?
Tears started running down her cheeks, as the pain intensified and she kept going, kept going, kept going, until…
"Mew!"
The pink Pokémon's voice wasn't soft.
It wasn't understanding.
It was harsh and commanding.
Hemera could deal with harsh and commanding.
So she stopped. Looked up, starring into blue eyes, that watched her carefully for a view seconds, until it decided the girl understood its message. So it turned around again, floating on, its eyes ever so alert.
"Where are we going?"
This time, Hemera's voice sounded even hoarser. However, it also sounded...alive. There was a spark in it, something that gave the Mew hope. Maybe they hadn't been too late after all.
Mew knew, it should probably try to soother the girl. All of this...It must be so much.
She didn't know anything after all.
But they had to keep going.
They had to keep going and the girl...the girl had to be kept ignorant. Adam had wanted it to be that way.
Why exactly did they own Adam again?
"Where are we going?"
Hemera's voice grew louder, subtle impatience worked into the tone. But Mew didn't answer, keeping silent.
However, someone else did.
"To the mirror."
Three simple words. Three simple words that threw Hemera off guard. And Mew.
Three simple words that went right to Hemera's soul, unsettling her in a way she had never believed was possible.
Something inside of her was telling her to lash out.
To spin around and destroy whoever had said those three simple words.
However, she didn't obey this inner order. She couldn't.
Instead, she backed away, frightened and unable to process what exactly made her react this way (was this normal?), until her back touched the chilling wall, the cold waking her up a bit, painfully slapping her and giving her back a bit life.
Frantically she searched the shadows, her golden eyes flitting through the darkness like small suns.
Mew didn't do anything. It didn't even turn around to face the intruder of their calm space, albeit anger disrupted its face.
A figure, clad by shadows, had spoken the three words, his face facing the floor.
Hemera's breath hitched as soon as she was able to make out his dark silhouette in between all the darkness.
Strangely, the figure fit into it like a puzzle piece and at the same time...he didn't.
The girl wasn't able to out any detail, but something seemed...off. His shadow...it looked twisted. Distorted. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. But something...something about him made her recoil.
"All of you...all of you will return to the mirror."
The husky voice didn't sound right either. It sounded wrong. So wrong.
Slowly, the silhouette crawled to the front of his dark cell, seemingly unable to get up. His features were covered by a cloak, dark and red. And golden.
"Earth...", he spat,"Earth will return to the...to the mirror. It is time for you, for earth, for every living..."
He spat again, this time even more violently, to meet its creator."
The twisted figure had reached the front of his cell, his long fingers clinging to the bars, his voice... his voice clinging to Hemera's mind.
The prison bars would get rid of the figure's grip at some point.
And suddenly…
He looked up.
Right into Hemera's eyes.
Right into her thoughts.
Right into her soul.
Starring at her with glowing eyes, with glowing eyes emitting a brilliant white light.
She couldn't take her eyes off of them.
"She has waited..."
The figure wasn't allowed to finish his sentence, being pushed back forcefully by an unseen power.
Hemera shrieked, her eyes automatically locking onto the small Pokémon's now glowing silhouette.
"Mew."
The figure didn't move anymore. The Pokémon watched him for several more seconds, before starting to float again, picking up its pace.
"Mew."
Again, its voice sounded commanding and harsh. Its message impossible to misunderstand.
Keep going.
Don't stop.
Just keep going.
Just keep following me.
So she did, keeping her eyes on the trail before her, only focussing on the pink Pokémon in front of her, not showing just how much the encounter had shaken her.
She had to leave this place. She had to leave it immediately.
Sometimes the Mew halted, just for a second, sometimes it ushered Hemera into the shadows, pausing for a second, waiting patiently.
Those were tense moments.
Even Hemera realized it.
However, after a view seconds had passed, the Mew would resume to lead the way and she'd follow obediently.
There wasn't much else to do anyway.
In addition, Hemera hoped they might go somewhere...warmer? Just now the girl realized how uncomfortable the cold was. Surely, there was something…better?
Any maybe they could stop her stomach from feeling so empty. But maybe it was normal?
And indeed, they went somewhere warmer.
After an hour lasting an eternity, Hemera saw, for the first time again, actual light.
Blinding.
Illuminating.
It looked like a promise and lie at the same time, frightening her and attracting her at the same time.
Which side, she pondered, was the right one?
However, Mew didn't seemingly didn't care about the girl's inner struggle and just kept going, floating into the light, secretly being relieved it didn't have to walk through the prison any more.
Now it had to deal with light.
They had to find some DNA soon, if they didn't want to be discovered,
And why did this cult have such a luminous base?! They worshipped Darkrei, for Arceu's sake!
Mew took another turn and Hemera followed the pink Pokémon without objection, still struggling to be out in the open.
She had liked the darkness so much more.
She could hide between all the shadows. And somehow Hemera felt, she had to hide. If there was one thing, that could possibly fill the emptiness in her head, it was her desire to escape.
To escape and run from this place, these people, as far away as possible.
Mew sensed Hemera's fear.
It even understood the feeling and it definitely wanted to leave the base too. All that had happened here...it was too dark, too gruesome to stay.
So Mew picked up the pace, not showing its empathy to its companion. Empathy wouldn't get her anywhere.
Plus, the people taking care of her would show enough empathy.
The pink Pokémon wondered, whether Hemera would bathe in it.
Or whether she'd fight it. Maybe she wouldn't always stay this….this...this empty shell. Maybe some life would return back to her.
Mew floated around another edge, steering towards the place it had in mind. They needed to change Hemera's appearance. Everyone knew how Persephone's most prized prisoner looked like. And she was only 16 after all. Joining a cult at such a young age wasn't unusual, most of them were introduced to the cult way earlier anyway, but they usually didn't get to stay at the main base. So Hemera had to change. And they had to find a robe, those prisoner clothes were a dead giveaway.
Softly the girl's steps echoed through the empty hallways, sometimes mixing with others – however none of them crossed their path.
Future sight was a neat ability. However, already Mew felt its energy draining. They had to find that damn robe. Finding the…chamber afterwards was a piece of cake.
It took them some attempts until they finally found a room. It had to be one of the bedchambers and very few belongings decorated the cold walls, making it look a bit more like home.
A picture, showing of a young family, was hung over one of the beds.
A soccer trophy stood on a desk.
An image of Shaymin was placed over the door frame, following a religious believe the picture would scare of bad luck and cleanse the room it was in.
There were in midst of the Darkrai cult.
Did Persephone allow her subordinates to own something honouring another legendary?
Did she, maybe, just maybe, not hate them as much as everyone thought?
Mew didn't know. And know was neither the time nor the place to ponder such trivial things and thus, the pink Pokémon ushered Hemera into the room, the door falling shut with a "BANG".
Hemera hardly noticed the noise, she was too busy trying to process all the sudden information.
It was so much.
It was too much.
There weren't many personal belongings stored in the small chamber by any means, however Hemera didn't knew anything but bare walls. To her, this looked like an overly luxurious castle.
Unaware of the girl's stress, the Pokémon closely examined the room in front of them, deciding which of the dark robes would fit the girl's small and fragile stature best.
Not that it would make much of a difference. Persephone wasn't known for treating her prisoners like human beings, especially the ones that were destined for death anyway.
What was the last time Hemera had gotten some food?
The entire abduction and all had been…A week ago? Probably, Mew didn't exactly know. It was a miracle she was still alive anyway. Just this one time Mew would actually praise Persephone's stubbornness and pettiness. At last they had come in handy.
Softly the Psychic Pokémon shook its head, dispelling all those unnecessary thoughts, there was a time and place for everything, but this surely wasn't said time and place, and thus Mew concentrated on the task at hand again: Finding a robe.
At the end the New Species Pokémon let Hemera decide. Slowly she approached the robe closest to her, her hand shaking when she reached out for it and then, in one swoop, snatching the piece of clothing away from its resting place, pressing it to her.
The material felt much softer than anything she wore and were made of better quality.
Mew didn't have to ask Hemera to put the robe on. Hemera didn't even wait for the Pokémon's order.
The dark piece of clothing didn't fit Hemera at all. It reached over her arms, making her unable to really grab anything, the excess fabric hindered her walking and forced her to walk slowly and carefully and practically fell over her face, covering her vision.
Luckily, it was supposed to do that and wasn't a dead giveaway. Thus, the last problem was Hemera's face.
Surely, everyone would know what she looked like, Persephone was in a lot of trouble after all if Hemera was able to escape, and although the robe hid her features behind thick layers of fabric, Mew wasn't going to risk it. And finding some DNA for Mew to transform wasn't difficult after all.
Carefully the Psychic typed Pokémon examined Hemera's new robe, soon finding what it desired: a single piece of hair. It wasn't much, but it had to do.
Unceremoniously Mew plucked the hair of the robe, examining it for a second, before starting to glow, emitting a purple pinkish light in the process. And in less than a second, it stopped again, moving forward through the empty hallways.
Hemera, however, halted. Something felt...off. It felt like something was covering her face, her entire skin, and when she touched it, peeled it off of her body, it disappeared into thin air, leaving no trail behind. For a moment Hemera watched the now empty space between her fingers in wonder, then she hurried to catch up to Mew.
A shiver went through Hemera's body, when she slowly warmed up again. Albeit the robe wasn't made out of the most comfortable fabric there is (although Hemera didn't know that yet), it was warm. Hemera almost started humming. If there were a way to stop the hollow feeling in her stomach she'd be fine. She'd be happy. In fact, the silence, plaguing her mind, had dissolved. A bit at least, as feelings and sensory input filled her thoughts instead of empty shells of lost memories.
She could be happy.
Happy.
Happy.
Just a second ago, Hemera hadn't know what it meant to be happy. A smile lit up her face.
Silent they passed through hallway after hallway, Mew remaining in its form. They wouldn't encounter anyone anyway. Every single member of the Darkrai cult stationed at their base was attending the ritual. They would try again and again and again. When had the last ritual taken place? Hadn't it been just a week?
Yes, one week ago. Persephone seemed to be eager to finally lay her hands on the legendary Pokémon.
And while Mew was right, the empty hallways stayed empty, they did not stay silent. Slowly faint chanting grew louder and louder, until it didn't go unnoticed by Hemera anymore. And again, the girl halted, her eyes following a dark hallway Mew had just passed seconds earlier.
She hesitated. The voices…they didn't repel her the way the strange, distorted voice had done. In a way, they attracted her. Curiously she stepped forward, trying to see where the hallway would lead her, but all she was presented with were doors and doors and doors.
She glanced back at the Mew, that signalled her to follow it, but she didn't listen. Instead, she wondered whether she should follow the Pokémon at all.
Why would she anyway? How did she know she could trust the Mew?
Mew…It had helped, she was sure of it, but those voices…She was like an Illumise, trying to reach the light.
It would burn her. She couldn't remember much of the conversation between the lady and the grunts, but she knew they were of ill intent.
But they voices distracted her nonetheless and thus, Hemera decided to do what she wanted. It was her right to do so, after all, right? She…She was allowed to have a free will? She…She didn't have to blindly follow the Mew, just because the Pokémon had helped her once, right? Certainly she didn't know the entire picture yet. Certainly there was something missing, right?
So, Hemera decided, for the first time ever it felt to her, she wouldn't just follow Mew, but instead her own intuition. And with two more steps she had entered the other hallway, following the chanting, unsure whether she'd be welcomed by it, but sure, she'd welcome it.
And this time…this time Mew followed her, plucking another hair from her robe in the process and transforming into a Houndour.
Maybe not all hope was lost yet.
Maybe, the girl would regain herself one day. Maybe she'd be able to get the crystal back. Maybe earth wasn't destined to return to mirror after all.
Silently and barely noticed Hemera had slipped into the hall she was currently sitting in, surrounded by dark robes. No one had commented her entrance. No one had noticed the Houndour. All she had to do to not attract attention was to bow her head and sit down, minding her own thoughts and not saying a word. However, now and then she glanced up, examining the scene unfolding in front of her.
Ten robes stood there, steadily chanting strange words she did not understand and bowing down in front of a small stage, specifically in front of a circle, drawn onto the ground, accompanied by four candle stands, giving of a dark light.
Next to the chanting robes, there was a cell. Hemera could get a good view of it, as all the seat in its close proximity were empty, however the shadows inside made it difficult for her to discern anything. She thought she saw a small movement and the silhouette of a slumped person, but she couldn't be sure. Maybe she would find out later. She really wanted too, as her curiosity began to spark. But getting up and finding out wasn't an option either. Surely it would attract attention. Right?
So she sat there, her head held down, her breathing still, an immobile object, only to move when ordered, only to speak when ordered, only to eat, sleep and when ordered.
Hemera didn't even mind. At least she felt like she was a part of this. She looked the same way everybody else did.
She behaved the same way everyone else did.
This was better than everything else she could remember and for a moment...she felt...she felt like she was at... home.
But then the strict lady barged into the room.
Immediately Hemera recognized her footsteps, strict and authoritarian and...Frightening somehow. The chanting continued. The bowed down grunts kept bowing down. The candles still flickered.
Nothing had changed, right?
But stuff would change.
The strange lady walk towards the stage, stopping in front of the chanting robes, waiting for a second. It almost seemed like she were breathing in. Like she had to prepare herself. Like she had to convince herself.
But then, she ordered with a clear and firm voice:
"Get him."
So they did. All ten of her subordinates, bowed before the circle, got up at once, moving towards the cell and again, Hemera thought she was able to discern movement. Faster this time, almost like someone was retreating into the shadows.
Slowly the cell was opened and two of the grunts entered it, disappearing in the shadows.
And then she heard it.
A scream.
"NO!"
It was high pitched and she noticed her neighbour stiffened. Everyone did, except for Hemera. They stiffened and it felt like all form of compassion left the sea of robes.
The two grunts left the cell again, this time dragging another grunt behind them, who was trashing and screaming and shouting.
"NO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! I…I CAN'T! I DON'T WANT TO!"
But the ten robes didn't care. They dragged the grunt behind them in an unholy procession, ignoring his pleading and curses, hauling him up to the stage, right into the middle of the circle. Hemera's breath hitched. Her neighbour's did too. No one dared to breathe in anymore, no one dared to raise attention.
They had known the grunt, he had been part of their lives…
"YOU..!"
…he had been a friend to some.
He would cease to exist in a few minutes time.
"CURSE YOU!"
He could have been replaced by any other grunt.
"EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!"
No one could stand his screams, no one wanted to hear the familiar voice. But they had no choice but to stay. Maybe Darkrai wouldn't flee this time. Maybe they would have fulfilled their dream with this sacrifice.
"HOW CAN YOU LET THIS HAPPEN! HOW CAN ANYONE OF YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS! THIS WON'T EVER STOP, THIS IS MADNESS!"
Hemera didn't have such thoughts.
In fact, Hemera didn't have any thoughts at all, she was far too focussed on the grunt that had been placed into the circle by now. The other grunts left the stage. The one in the circle stopped screaming. He just sat there, his mouth open, as if he were trying to plead for mercy but didn't dare to say a thing, frozen by the strict lady's eyes.
She climbed the stage, an old looking book held in her hand, her eyes never leaving the grunt. Then, she snorted.
"Stop your begging. You swore to give your life for this cause – all I'm doing is to collect this promise."
She had circled him once by now and watched him a bit longer, before ordering, her voice not showing any signs of empathy:
"Undress."
But the grunt didn't move. Instead, he shook his head, over and over again, his lips moving but no sound coming out.
"I said UNDRESS!"
Hemera flinched. The lady's voice had been cold as ice and just as sharp. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. What was happening? Where was the feeling of community that had engulfed her just a second ago?
The grunt hadn't obeyed the lady's order again and Hemera expected the worst to come, however it was just another, sharp, cold cut of the voice, Hemera had learned to loathe in less than a minute.
"You will die anyway. You might as well make it easier for both of us. For all of us."
This time, the grunt flinched, his eyes focussed on the sea of black in front of him. His friends were attending this. They were watching him, although their heads may be bowed.
They weren't helping him.
And he wasn't helping them either.
Slowly, his whole body shaking, he started to undress until he was merely clothed in the short-like trousers he had been given upon the day he had been selected for the sacrifice.
"Good."
Persephone's voice sounded softer now, it almost sounded…nice. But it wasn't. And when she ordered him to lay down, he knew, she wouldn't be merciful.
The Houndour had turned around, burying its face in the fabric of her robe, but Hemera couldn't look away, when the lady sat down, a knife in one hand, an open book in her other hand, softly chanting incomprehensible words.
Hemera didn't fully remember what came afterwards. All she remembered with full clarity, were the screams. Screams, that would haunt her in her dreams.
Would she have been able to stop all of it? Would she have been able to save the grunt?
Probably. She had Mew with her after all, a Mew tasked with defending her at all cost. Maybe she could have made it so safety.
It wouldn't have mattered anyway. Some grunt would die, one way or another.
When the ritual was over, Hemera wasn't able to move, to paralyzed by what she just had witnessed.
Screams. The man's scream echoed in her ears, time and time again.
She remembered Persephone, circling him, time and time bowing down, etching markings into his flesh…
"DON'T, PLEASE DON'T!"
…writing words with his blood, murmuring words that should never have been written down in the first place.
She remembered the black mist, dark, black mist, that had spread like an illness, engulfing everyone, she heard the gasping…
"I BEG YOU! I…"
…of the grunts and she felt the trembling earth.
The man on stage still screamed. Or maybe he had stopped by now and all she heard were her memories.
And then…Darkrai had appeared. At once, everyone fell silent. It was a split second, in which Hemera controlled her own thoughts again. But then, everything drowned in chaos again.
Had Persephone tried to communicate with it? Had she tried to catch it? Hemera didn't care. For all she knew, Darkrai had vanished again, taking the black mist and the screaming man, leaving behind only his blood, splattered all over the floor and Persephone's hands.
"Why?! WHY?!"
Then Persephone had left, anger radiating from her every step, a Houndoom following her, glancing at every grunt, that had stepped just a tad too close to the Pokémon's master.
Two of them didn't survive the encounter.
Slowly, everyone scattered, every single of them having to deal with their own demons, leaving behind Hemera, frozen on spot, unable to move as slightly as lifting her arm.
The Houndour to her feet nudged her several times, its unnatural blue eyes filled with worry.
Was it its own fault? Mew shouldn't have let her see this. Surely this was too much for her young mind, surely she couldn't fully comprehend what just had happened…Why had they taken this path? Was is really just to ensure she knew, what was going on? That she saw a cult, saw their rituals and learned to despise them? So she wouldn't fall for all that had caught so many others?
Mew didn't know. Mew didn't care. But, nevertheless, they had to get going. Persephone had mentioned she would look after their prisoner, which one was obvious, and she wouldn't be too pleased when finding out she had fled.
They had to leave.
So the Houndour nudged her again, unable to get her to react.
Until another memory resurfaced.
"I BEG YOU! I HAVE BEEN LOYAL MY ENTIRE LIFE!"
Another scream.
A different voice.
Hemera's head jerked up, her eyes wide open, starring at the altar, her mouth opened and letting out a silent scream.
The Houndour took a step back. Maybe she hadn't forgotten everything just yet.
Maybe they could restore her.
Maybe she could win this time.
And, on a rare notion, Mew felt empathy with the empty shell in front of it.
She had fought, fought so hard, just to lose everything at the end.
They could only hope she wouldn't lose a second time.
They could only hope she'd surpass herself.
Because if she didn't…earth, truly, would return back to the mirror.
Author's Note:
I hope you enjoyed the story so far and 'm looking forward to any kind of review ^^
If you have any advice regarding anything, I'd love to hear it =)
I will try to upload a chapter every month, however I can' promise anything, as school will be keeping me busy most of the time.
Until next time ^^