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Chapter 1— The Mysterious Stranger from the Shadows

A bright spotlight illuminated the lone figure, in the centre of the stage, with the gleaming grand instrument before her. Darkness everywhere else; darkness in her mind, as the moody timbre of the piano resonated through the large auditorium: every seat filled; every eye intent upon her. Her fingers moved swiftly and gracefully across the smooth ivory keys, her slender figure swaying with the frantic beat of the song, her expression as she rushed through each cadence bewitching the audience. And then, it all stopped; the last note rang out and rushed past each person's ear; and there was utter silence. Gracefully she stood, her red hair tied in a neat coiffeur, wearing her dainty black dress, and she bowed. Suddenly, as if a tap had been turned on, the audience erupted in an enormous applause, and as the rest of the room faded into light, she saw as each person stood to give her a standing ovation. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek: and then once the gratifying applause died away, she slowly walked off the stage; into her dressing-room, where she sat in contemplative silence.

Three years earlier

Thunder crashed loudly in the distance; and the bitter tears streamed down Misty's face as she looked once more into those beautiful, deep eyes; cupping his cheek with her hand, stroking it, longing for happier times.

"Why are you leaving me?" she moaned, her words barely audible between loud sobs.

"I must, Misty, if I am to be the Pokémon master that has been my dream since I was a boy." He looked eerily grave, not repulsing Misty's touch, but not responding to it positively, either.

"But I love you!" She sounded almost childish as she cried it; and perhaps she was. "Can't I go with you? Please, you can't leave me! All alone in this strange place—you will forget me; I know you will; and then I will never be able to forgive myself for letting you go. Stay with me, here, and we can be happy all the days of our life. I want nothing else but you, dearest."

"It's not my destiny to be trapped in this remote place. You can't come; it's too dangerous. A man who loved you less might allow it." Now Misty withdrew her hand, beginning to feel defeated; beginning to realize that her feminine skills of persuasion were not enough to induce her lover to alter his opinion. Another crash of thunder; then their figures were illuminated momentarily by the proceeding lightning.

"Oh Ash!" was all she was able to say in her trembling paroxysm of emotion. She collapsed into his arms, kissing him feverishly; drinking in his presence for what she knew would be the last time in a long time. And he caressed her, and kissed her brow, and then each cheek, and then her nose, and lastly her lips, the kiss lingering, their mutual desire begging them to not separate; but circumstance tearing them apart all the same. She ran her fingers through his soft, dark hair as they pulled away from each other, and then she only looked at him, fresh tears streaming down her face.

"Take good care of Pikachu; and I will never, ever forget you, Misty Waterflower," he said hoarsely. And then he turned away, and out the door, into the torrential downpour, with little more than the clothes on his back. And she stood on the porch, not caring how drenched she got: watching, pining already; as his figure became smaller and smaller as he walked away, and he not being able to bear looking back upon she whom he could no longer kiss and caress. And he was just a dot in the distance; Misty was about to turn around; and then, a sound much more powerful than thunder and lightning echoed through the flat country plain: and as she squinted into the distance she saw fire, and destruction. There had been—an explosion. And Misty fainted.

Present day

It had been three long years but not one detail of that faithful night had faded from her mind. It was still etched into her memories, screaming for release. A knock on the door sounded and Misty turned her head, suddenly hopeful to see the dark-haired man walk through the door but only a small skinny stage-hand entered, clutching a clipboard.

"Miss Waterflower?" he asked. She nodded, her throat very dry from the fierce recollection of her past. He smiled and tapped on his clipboard, "There's a letter for you here." She stood up very suddenly and strode over to the younger man, snatching the envelope out of his hand. She tore it open and unfolded the letter, letting the envelope fall to the floor with a faint clap.

She sat down and immersed herself in the letter, absorbing every detail. It wasn't what she hoped for…it was intriguing still. It was still very, very important. Her eyes widened as the impact of the letter hit her like a kick to the stomach and she began to sob heavily into her hands.

She dismissed the bemused stagehand with a wave of her black, gloved hand. He walked off wordlessly, swinging the door shut behind him to let the distraught woman deal with her own problems. She ran her fingers over the letter, afraid to read it again. Rain pattered down heavily on the window and she noticed the door open a crack and a small yellow rodent trotted in. Pikachu wandered up to his carer, lightning bolt-shaped tail swaying with distress at seeing his friend like this.

She looked up, sapphire eyes glistening with ghostly tears of despair. Pikachu trotted up to her and stared intently. She knew he knew something was wrong. Oh, how she would give to tell Pikachu what she knew that he wasn't supposed to know and wipe that concerned look off his face. She pondered for a moment. He knew something was wrong and it wouldn't hurt for him to know, would it?

No, he can't. He mustn't know what she knows, even if he knows that she knows something that he doesn't know.

"Pikachu…I'll meet you back at the house. There's something…something I need to do," she said with a sigh as she exited. The rodent stared, feeling dejected before he wandered away, too honest to his friend to betray her trust.

One hour later

She paced relentlessly up and down the path. The moon above shone brightly, bathing the park in silvery moonlight. Misty was often at this scene, staring up at the sky on a park bench and reflecting on days gone by.

But not today.

Today, she couldn't focus on the past. She turned her head as she heard footsteps approach and a shadowy figure walked towards her. She shivered; she'd recognize that figure anywhere.

"Miss Waterflower," he said in a low-pitched voice. She gulped and gathered her courage. She'd have to face him some time.

"Yes?" she said, her voice shaking despite her attempt to keep calm.

"I bring you…news. Grave news," he continued. She stepped back instinctively and felt her face pale with fear. She clutched at a pendant that usually hung inside her shirt, but today she gripped it in her hands for dear life. It was the last gift her true love had given her before…before…that day. She didn't even know if he was alive, but she was going to hold on. She couldn't give up.

"I read the letter. I understand that already," she hissed, almost venomously. If she wasn't frightened beyond belief, she would have scared him.

"I'm afraid that," he said and then paused for a second and dug inside his coat pocket, producing a small silver disc, "Your husband wants you back."