Prologue
Icirrus Moor was a place of perpetual silence. In the day, the sunlight that struck the bare, empty grassland was tinted light gray, and it always touched the tough, rough ground with a gentle hand. When noon arrived on a summer's day, most of Unova would feel the snarling sun beating down on the backs of the landscape, but here on the moor, the summer days were kinder, as if some supernatural force warded off the worst of the sun's wrath. When dusk settled on the empty space, never were the bright reds, vivid pinks, and deep oranges of sunset seen. The sky would turn a grayish blue, then a darker blue, and fade straight to black. When the moon cast its gentle light upon the dry, stringy grasses, silvery mist would roll across the moor, dipping all who walked its paths into a world of dreams, of hopes, and of gods.
It was in these gray, creeping mists that a pokémon sat on a dark silver stone, equipped with only a piece of off-white parchment, a quill and inkpot, and knowing blue eyes. His long tail swished behind him, batting at the crawling clouds, as the Stranger dipped his pidgeotto feather into the tiny glass vial of black and started to etch his marks across the page.
In the late spring months of the year 4845, the Dragon Uprising finally came to a close. This red-stained crusade of widespread terror in the guise of a quest for an ideal world began over ten years ago when a pokémon known as Netami Hydreigon made a discovery of the like no other exploration team has made before. The unearthing of a jet black stone, radiating an aura of static power and marked with the image of a dragon eye, was the catalyst that began his unholy reign of fire and blood that swept across the region like an inescapable cancer. Netami fueled his campaign with one revolting, ideal belief; the dragon-type was superior to all, and no pokémon who lacked the type of the powerful beasts would escape their reign. Those known as the dragons spread their beliefs through terror and murder and enslavement, and their victims could only watch as their lives were consumed by dragonfire, and peace gave way to war and fear. For the first time since the sun had set on the old age and beasts walked the earth, pokémon turned on pokémon for no reason other than simple hatred.
After eleven long years of suffering and strife, one chance occurrence made way for the end of this crusade and the return of peaceful truth. A storm unlike any seen before swept the region of Unova. It was a storm of blistering cold only Darkrai could know, covering everything in unrelenting ice and snow. The ocean froze mid-crest, leaves were locked in place, and the fires of the region sputtered out within seconds. No such natural anomaly has been seen since the Endstorm of Hoenn nearly two thousand years prior. The storm and the day it struck were both named, accordingly, the Dance of the Dragons.
The day to follow was dubbed the Silent Day, when none in Unova moved, for the cold that descended on the region proved to be unrelenting. None would dare to speak lest their words freeze midair. However, it should be known that the Silent Day's name comes from two occurrences. The second is the silent death of Netami Hydreigon's dragon army. On the Dance of the Dragons, the dragon rebels were the most powerful force in the six regions, capable of dismantling governments and besting even the strongest and noblest of armies. When the sun set on the Silent Day and new warmth arrived with the morning, the dragon army was gone. Some fled, most slain, but none know what happened on that fateful day, and those who did quickly vanished, melting into the wilderness or the jungle of society. The world took a vow of silence, never to speak of what occurred in the heart of the region on that day ever again.
Most historians and scientists believe that the Dance of the Dragons was a freak weather anomaly, similar to the Endstorm of Hoenn back in the Age of Exploration and the Great Olivine Storm of Johto in the Union Age only a few hundred years before. However, some are not so certain. Is a storm that comes from nowhere, travels nowhere, and vanishes to nowhere truly just weather? Or is it something more, something peculiar? Something that may have come from a world from which none leave unscathed?
The pokémon paused for a moment as a little melody drifted into the air, rolling alongside the endless mists. "You're distracting me from my work," he commented aloud.
A shadow shifted in the fog, and the Stranger could just make out locks of hair flowing in the faint, icy breeze. "Oh, you don't like it? Perhaps I can play something else for you. I wouldn't want you to be upset, my dear."
The pokémon wrinkled his nose at the velvety voice. "Don't think I'm not still mad at you."
The shadow feigned hurt. "Oh dear, you're upset with me? Why, whatever shall I do?" A mockingly sad song drifted into the air, most likely from some Kanton string instrument.
"Oh, stop it," the Stranger spat. "You could've done more."
The shadow was quiet for a moment, the music quickly fading. Then she spoke, her voice thickening with annoyance. "It is not my job to meddle in the world of which I was forced away from, my dear. You're old and alone and desperate, and you cling onto guilt like you cannot let go. Honestly, you're pitiful."
The pokémon scowled at her but made no retort. "It's all pokémon like us can do, I guess. Cling to the past like there's no tomorrow. But don't you see what's happening? We're being left behind. We all still act like it's a few million years in the past, like nothing's changing, but every day, pokémon are becoming more and more like-"
The sudden screech of dissonant notes sliced the air, as if someone had banged the keys of an imaginary piano, and the shadow sprang to her feet. "Don't you dare mention them."
The Stranger said nothing, and the shadow turned from him. "We all swore to forget. It's time you recalled that little tidbit." She sauntered off, her shadowy form swallowed by the mists. "Gift yourself a little forgiveness, my dear. And stop writing that blasted paper. Don't think we don't know what you're doing." A minor chord of piano keys dripped through the air, and she spoke no more.
The pokémon watched her go for a while, and then sighed and turned back to his paper. He dabbed the feather in the inkpot one last time and plonked a large, ovular period at the bottom of the page. "I wish I could, my friend," he murmured, "but I'm saving this for someone."
Author's Note
Hello again! CinnamonPearl here with the third book of Walking With Gods. It's been a long time since I've uploaded anything, as I've been focusing more on original works than fan content, but I thought it was time I got back to this series and try to finish it proper. If anything, I can at least finish the third book. Now, unlike when I was uploading the other two books, this one isn't complete yet. I'll be uploading it as I go along, but note that earlier chapters may be subject to change if I decide some things need to be different before the end. I'll be sure to announce it if I change anything or plan any rewrites.
Due note that this is the third book in a series. Since the books are all standalone stories, you are free to go ahead and read this one! But I do recommend going back to read the other two books, as there will be some details you may miss out on. It's your choice.
I hope you enjoy the story!
