It was obstinately dark where she found herself. Granted, Zinnia never expected Sinnoh's Turnback Cave to be invitingly lit, if the name was of any indication, but she had expected her night vision, well honed after years of training in the less than hospitable Meteor Falls, to be able to cut through clout that surrounded her. Much to her and Aster's chagrin, though, beyond the first room the murky darkness that was quite bearable became smothering. It seemed as if every step she took forward the gloom closed in around her even more, obscuring her vision and sense of direction, the sound of dust and dirt and stone crunching underneath her sandals bouncing off the cavern walls doing little to ease her plight.
She considered turning back and returning with a flashlight, an object that she had never quite needed before, but given that her stumbling around in an attempt to find some light had thrown her sense of direction off, that was unfeasible. And even then, the Draconid woman was not entirely certain that the rumors of a powerful stone lying somewhere in the cave, also purportedly related to Dragon Type Pokémon, was worth the effort and possibility of getting hopelessly lost once more. Though she doubted anyone would come looking for her if that became the case. The thought of how effective a flashlight would be in such a place also crossed her mind; the darkness of the cave was completely smothering, enshrouding her with a disturbing zeal that felt completely unnatural. Given the legends that had arose about the cave, and her own past experiences, Zinnia would not have been entirely surprised if that turned out to be the case.
The Whismur that was habitually by her side suddenly clung to her leg at the sound of a pebble getting kicked out of her path by accident and hitting the wall, the usually unnoticeable noise being amplified into a silence-shattering cacophony due to the high ceiling. The Draconid gazed down, and though her ruby eyes were unable to make out anything more than a blurred silhouette, which in of itself was a considerable feat since it was so unnaturally dark that most people would probably be fumbling about blindly in an attempt not to trip over a stray rock. Then again, most people would not willingly explore Turnback Cave in the first place.
Zinnia pushed those thoughts aside and reached downwards, scooping up the Normal Type into her arms, feeling it quivering in fear. She rubbed the Pokémon soothingly, silently empathizing with its fears, but still carried on, hopefully she was moving in the direction of an exit or some indicator to it, even as she could practically feel the darkness trying to suffocate the both of them. After a few more steps, each echoing off the cavern walls, the Lorekeeper narrowed her eyes as she made out what looked like a doorway; a hollow recession in the darkness around her that was shaped enough like a rectangle to pass off as such. Taking a cautious step forward, she put one of her feet out to feel if there was indeed an absence in the wall, and if there was a floor underneath it. To both the Draconid's relief and distress, the answer proved to be 'yes' for both.
Taking a breath and steeling her features, Zinnia took a step forward.
As she cautiously entered the room, the first thing she noticed that it was brighter than the path she had just emerged from. Not by much, only a few slivers of light somehow sneaking into the room from the ceiling, but they were enough to make out her surroundings and the massive pillar in the center of the room. From what she could make out it was certainly unnatural, not that a pillar standing in the center of a cave was natural in the first place, or even Turnback Cave at that, its entirely level and unmarred surface standing out as an ominous contradiction to its otherwise rough surroundings. She took another step forwards, immediately detecting that the ground nearby began to lower into what was presumably a set of stairs.
"Hy?" the Lorekeeper's breath hitched in her throat at the unexpected noise, while the scared Normal Type cradled in her arms let out a surprised squeak and began shaking like a leaf. The voice of Aster reverberated throughout the cavern, and was immediately followed by the sounds of dirt crunching against metal. She then backtracked, taking a cautious step backwards as her vision made out something shifting in the darkness, its presence having been confirmed by the previous noise. The was a repetition of the sound from before as the shadows shifted again, and, as she listened more intently, Zinnia also made out the faint beating of wings as they cut through and stirred the musty air of the cavern. A sense of dread began to overtake her as she detected the presence, or presences, as she determined that there would be no need for both sounds to exist at the same time, drew closer, cutting through the fog of bleak darkness and ascending the staircase.
By this time the woman had moved to the side, steeling herself for who or whatever was coming her way. The noise seemingly became loudly with each passing second, combined with the sounds of her own pounding heart, it was a deafening cacophony that drowned out everything else. But she refused to show fear (not that anyone would be able to see it, regardless); whatever she was about to encounter, Zinnia had concluded in her mind she had already seen, and been through, worse. The figures finally came to a stop a few inches away from her, having finished their ascent and making the Draconid realize her steps had been shorter than she realized, and, through some clout, she could make out some of the features of the man who was eyeing her.
As her own ruby orbs scanned over what little she could make of the admittedly intimidating man, his own dark eyes, matching a few strands of raven hair that were only distinguishable due to his pale complexion, scrutinized her with a reserved interest. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of maintaining their gaze in the darkness, the man let out a deep, somewhat lifeless chuckle at the determination that he saw in her.
"How... amusing."
With that, he, and the still unknown figure trailing behind him, turned to leave through the very entrance Zinnia had just come through. Said oracle's expression dropped at the conclusion. Whatever she had expected to happen as a result of her encounter with the stranger, that had certainly not been it. Even Aster had stopped shaking as well, the Whismur's befuddlement over the action overriding its fears. She took another glance in the direction of the man's shadow, which was beginning to be obscured by the darkness of their location.
While a general rule of thumb was to not follow intimidating strangers one suddenly stumbles into in the middle of one of Sinnoh's creepiest locations, something in the back of her mind told her she should. If there was one thing Zinnia had managed to discern from her short scrutiny of the man, it was that he had a presence to him that he seemed to radiate; one that spoke to a natural leader. Domineering, perhaps, but also confident. And given the confidence he had in the path he had taken, the one that she had just emerged from, that gave the Dragon Type user the impression that he knew the way out. Which meant that, as disdainful as the idea was to her, he was her best chance of getting out of this forsaken cave. Taking a deep breath, one that broke the silence that had gathered in the few seconds since the man's departure, Zinnia hurried after him and his companion.
The Draconid had been certain that he was aware of her the entire time she was following him, particularly due to the fact that she had only been a few feet away out of fear of losing him in the mire-like darkness, but he had not so much as said anything or even hesitate in his pace the entire trek. But, as they finally passed through the small break in the rock wall of the cave that Zinnia had first entered through, the gap providing a ray of both light and hope like the beacon of a lighthouse would during a terrible storm, he finally came to a stop. The all too familiar sound of blades of grass being trampled met her ears as he finally turned around, the large, purple tailcoat she had been staring at making way for a suit of black armor and a penetrating gaze.
"Hy?" the man's lips had not moved; clearly the Pokémon floating next to him, a Hydreigon, was the cause of the noise. Her ruby eyes darted to the pseudo-legendary for a moment, who greeted her with a toothy smile. It was not a warm one, nor did it look particularly malicious either (and having been around Dragon Types her entire life, she could distinguish the subtle nuances between their expressions, whereas most people would just assume they were being considered as lunch and run), but it still was enough to cause Aster to quiver. Within a split second of registering the Pokémon's presence, Zinnia's eyes darted back to the man across from her, looking over his unusual getup and failing to see any Pokéballs on him, along with any other conventional supplies one would have when traveling. Though already finding her inadvertent companion odd, this caused her to raise an eyebrow.
"Is Hydreigon with you?"
In hindsight, it was a rather stupid question, and not the best way to try to break the ice, but it was the least pointed question that came to her mind. To the woman's mild surprise, and relief, the traveler's only reply was a simple, almost mechanical, nod.
"Then I challenge you to a battle!" her voice was somewhat shaky as she issued the declaration, uncertain almost, but she refused to show her doubts in any other form. The only reaction from the man across from her was a slight raise of an eyebrow; lips remaining motionless and dark eyes still gazing down on her in the most confusing, seemingly-implausible expression of disinterested interest the Draconid had ever seen in her life. But she stood her ground.
She had hoped to find some sort of answer in a battle with him. Battling had shown her what she had to do in the past, most prominently in her conflicts against Hoenn's new Champion, and given that she had nothing left to lose, Zinnia had hoped that it would be able to provide her some indication or inclination on what path she should take next. Her unnamed companion's neutral façade fell with a hollow laugh that failed to give any indication on his own thoughts.
"Very well," a small smirk overtook his features with his reply, raising an armored hand in a signal for the Dual Type behind him to come forward. The Hydreigon crossed one of its lifeless head-arms over its body, lowering its main head in what Zinnia could only assume to be an attempt at a bow, before floating in the gap between the two humans. Zinnia reached for one of the Pokéballs attached to the back of her belt, brushing aside her tanned, ragged shawl in the process. Her eyes locked with those of her soon-to-be opponent for a short, yet agonizingly long, second, before she threw the sphere.
Though it had been nearly two days since their battle, Zinnia was still disturbed at how easily she had been bested. His Hydreigon had effortlessly dispatched half her team before Altaria finally managed to hit it with a well-timed Moonblast, only to quickly join its teammates in unconsciousness, and even then her beloved Salamance had decisively defeated after fighting fang and claw and driving its pseudo-legendary opponent to the brink of exhaustion. But the result of the battle, as dismaying as it was, was not the most pressing thought on the Draconid's mind. Though she had not received the answer she had been looking for in the battle, she had noticed something about her opponent.
It was in the way he walked, his tone of voice, his very stance and presence and even being. Something hollow. Something empty. Something broken. And in a way, a reflection of herself. And it intrigued her. Perhaps it was some mad hope that she might find what she was looking for, even if she herself did not yet know what that was. Perhaps it was a desire to get a better understanding of her own condition.
Ironic, the Lorekeeper mused idly, that deciding to travel with someone in hopes it would provide some form of clarity would only end up leaving her more confused than before.
Aster, now treading by her side best the Whismur could on the uneven path, detected her thoughts and mewled out a few words of reassurance in its name based language. Zinnia's eyes darted downwards to a second, giving a warm smile to her companion for its faith in her, but in the back of her mind wondered what the Whisper Pokémon saw in her. In a woman who was willing to sacrifice everything, and risk sacrificing that which was not hers to begin with, to save so many. In a woman who was now devoid of a cause; wandering around the world aimlessly in a self-imposed exile without a reason to live, having devoted all to that very fulfilled cause.
Her reverie came to a screeching halt as the clinking of her other companion's armor, something she had become accustomed to listening to seeing as they usually traveled in silence, came to an abrupt end. She looked up, her vision having been focused primarily on the gravelly dirt road they had been traversing, and saw that he had come to a wordless stop. She raised an eyebrow, curious for the reason behind the sudden halt, and somewhat irritated over his refusal to explain. If there had been one thing she learned about her new companion, it was that his Hydreigon probably talked more than he did. The woman had only learned his name after a bit of prying, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt he was certainly not a Sinnoh native, and beyond that most of what he said was nothing more than cryptic half-remarks and one or two-word responses to the occasional queries posited to him by herself and his Pokémon.
Ironic, she mused once more, given how easily he stood out.
"The sun is beginning its descent," Zinnia blinked at hearing his voice, first deciding that had been the most he had said all day, before realizing the now blatantly obvious observation, and then inwardly berating herself for being so drowned in her thoughts as too not notice such an obvious detail. After that one-sided conversation, and a few minutes dedicated to constructing a campfire in a small clearing, the Draconid found herself staring into the crackling flames as the sounds of Kricketots began to ring out from their surroundings. Her companion sat across from her, legs folded underneath himself and eyes closed, laconic as ever. How anyone could be comfortable sleeping like that, let alone while encased in that armor, was completely beyond her. The woman leaned back somewhat, using her elbows to support herself as she stared up at the open, starry sky, passing the time by finding various consolations while listening to Aster's rhythmic breathing.
"Why is it that you follow Nobunaga?" the Lorekeeper shot upright, red eyes darting around frantically for a second before realizing that the man across from her was very much awake. He remained completely stoic in the face of her sudden reaction, waiting as she recomposed herself and thought through his question.
Why had she decided to travel with him? For clarity's sake? She was only more lost now than she had been before. But that confusion brought up a question of her own.
"Why did you let me?" he raised an eyebrow at her question, closing the dark eyes that had been locked onto her as he let out a soft chuckle. And there it was: his laugh. It sounded real enough, almost genuinely amused in a slightly condescending manner, but it lacked any weight to it; there was no substance. It was not forced, that much she could tell, but it was far from natural either. It was an echo, a hollow shell of something that had once thrived, but was nothing more than a mere specter now. Something she had noticed in her own voice, once brimming with energy and life.
"We are alike," Nobunaga's reply was simple, but it left her amazed at his ability to seemingly tell her everything and nothing at the same time. Was it out of pity? Could it have been intrigue? Perhaps even apathy? Or, she finally wondered, was it that his reasons were uniform to hers; simply being that he had none? As if seeking confirmation to her unspoken theory, she looked back up towards her companion, only to see that a small smirk had broken out on his face, the amusement in it a bit more genuine than his laugh. Did the man know what she had suspected? If so, his eyes, unwavering, betrayed nothing, and he remained silent.
She let out a blasé sigh and leaned back again, this time putting her head against the rough ground. Tomorrow would be a better time to ponder such. The embers from the once roaring fire slowly died out.
Another clap of thunder rang out overhead, accompanying the incessant pitter-patter of the heavy, freezing rain drops that had been hounding the two for the past few hours. Mud clung to the bottom of Zinnia's sandals, bogging down her every step as what used to be a road beneath her tried to swallow her alive, the torrent of rain soaking her to the bone and weighing her down even more. She had recalled Aster sometime back, out of fear that the Whismur would fall ill from prolonged exposure to this downpour, but still carried on with strained steps. Nobunaga fared little better; though he continued to march forwards, his obsidian armor weighed him down, boots sinking deeper into the mire with every motion. The Dragon Type floating next to him, who appeared completely unaffected by the torrent beyond having its black coat matted, simply floated forwards at a slower pace to stay by his side.
And yet, as the rainfall somehow picked up in intensity, sapping away her strength and warmth with every motion she made and every second that passed, Zinnia found herself staring ahead. His burden was greater than hers; and yet while her knees began to buckle from the exertion of slogging through the muck, he remained unfazed, silently marching forward into whatever laid ahead. And in that, as the Lorekeeper's legs finally gave out and she fell downwards, a hand shooting into the loose soil to balance herself while she attempted to steady her ragged breathing, she could only wonder what made him so inexorable. What gave him the strength, the will to continue onwards?
The obsidian-clad man had apparently heard his companion fall, as he stopped his trek and turned around. He stared downwards at her, and she stared back, ruby orbs meeting black while the rain continued to beat down on them, and he finally broke the silence.
"We must carry onwards."
And it was then that she realized, even amongst her anger and exhaustion, that he was more than just a man without a reason to live. He was a man looking for one. And, gritting her teeth bitterly, eyes unwavering from his gaze, Zinnia slowly rose. Even in through the haze of the night and the raindrops that obscured her vision, she could make out a small smirk spread across his face at seeing the renewed resolve in her eyes. Nobunaga turned back and strode into the storm once more, the Draconid close behind him.
When he had finally deigned to talk about his past, a bit more than some two weeks into their aimless journey together and after more than a bit of prodding on her part, beyond simply mentioning the occasional detail, Zinnia found herself met with a strange mixture of shock and doubt. The man sitting across from her on the opposite side of the campfire, in contrast to his usual manner, had spoken beyond a simple sentence in response to the Lorekeeper's questioning. The first detail he related was that he was from Ransei, an isolated region she knew little about but had occasionally seen on world maps in passing. That she could believe without a doubt, given it answered many obvious questions. From what little she knew, Ransei had been in a constant state of internal 'fighting', if war being reduced to the status of something barely above a mere game could truly be called that, and that Warriors, people born with the ability to form links with Pokémon, were the equivalent of its trainers. And her companion across from her was clearly one, given that she had determined the Hydreigon sleeping next to him had no Pokéball.
The next details Nobunaga relayed, however, were far less mundane. He was once the Warlord of Dragnor, one of the kingdoms that made up the region, and had attempted to end the conflict that had engulfed the region. By any means necessary. He was once a conqueror; a black wave rolling over his region, engulfing everything in his path in the name of peace. Only bested by an entire region banding together, and having found himself devoid of a reason to live after his defeat, his entire life having been dedicated to achieving peace for his home, the man had gone into a self-imposed exile and now found himself sitting across a campfire from her. Her first thoughts as he finished relating his tale were of the skeptical sort, but any doubts over the truthfulness of his claims dissipated when their eyes met. His gaze was empty and lifeless, one of someone broken, but he still had the bearing of a leader, an aura that exerted authority.
Perhaps had it been a different time, a different place, and under different circumstances, she would have been horrified at hearing his past. He was a conqueror, she was a guardian; two roles that were supposedly in opposition to each other. But now, having pursued her own goals with ruthless abandon, having been willing to sacrifice so much for the best outcome for Hoenn, she could only stare contemplatively into the flames before her, picking up a nearby stick and shifting around some of the kindling before tossing it in as well.
The two sat in silence for a while, the crackling of the flames as they ate away at the wood below and the songs of Kricketots being the only noise echoing throughout the small clearing they were camped in, until, by some impulse, she spoke up and decided to share her own past in turn. He sat silently while she related the less than noble details of her attempts to save her own region, gaze stoic but eyes bearing a bit more recognition than she was used to seeing, and by the time she had finished relating the details of her own quest, a near unnoticeable smile had spread onto his face. It was mirthless, but in it she saw a small amount of relief.
Perhaps their roles had been opposites, Zinnia mused, but in the end they still strove for the same goal; peace. And in the end, both of them had been willing to sacrifice everything to achieve it.
The woman sat back, arms holding her up as she stared into the vast, starry sky that hung overhead. The Lorekeeper felt a small smile spread across her face as well, a feeling of contentment welling up in her at the realization that she did not have to walk her road alone. The two continued to sit in silence for a while, before Zinnia blinked as another thought ran through her head and she sat back up, eyeing Nobunaga with curiosity before prodding him about what he why he was in Turnback Cave. Of course, his only reply was another amused chuckle.
The Draconid just crossed her arms in response, a silent chuckle of her own escaping her lips as her gaze returned to the stars.
By the fourth week of their trek together, their journey had come to its conclusion. The duo found themselves standing in silence at the edge of Snowpoint's docks, light flakes of snow falling down and slowly covering the two. Zinnia shivered slightly, the action having caused some of the frozen precipitation gathered on her raven hair to fall downwards, before wrapping the tanned shawl that hung from her shoulders closer around her. She had never been good with the cold, something her upbringing no doubt had a hand in. The woman's eyes shifted over to her left slightly; Nobunaga seemed to be completely unaffected by the bitter temperature and snow, even as it clung to his armor and hair stubbornly and turned his near-unnoticeable breaths into a chilly haze, and simply continued to gaze ahead into the freezing waters and the morning sun reflecting off them.
"So..." the Draconid's voice echoed out with slight hesitation. "I suppose this is goodbye?"
"For now," the Warlord clarified, the corners of his lips curling upwards slightly. "Nobunaga suspects our paths are bound to cross again."
A small chuckle managed to escape her pursed lips, materializing in frosty condensation, nodding in silent agreement that Dragnor indeed was a place she intended to visit one day. In part for the locale itself, but also to visit her impromptu companion and new friend again. But, first, there were amends to make in Hoenn. He, too, had decided to return to his own homeland, for much of the same reasons as her. And yet, even standing in the middle of one of the many snowstorms that Snowpoint was famous for, waiting for the ferry that would take her back to Hoenn, Zinnia could not help but feel a bit warmer than she had when she first arrived in the region.
Perhaps it was the fact that she was no longer aimless, that having had someone to talk to and relate to had helped heal both herself and him. It might have been that they had hope now; a reason to live. It could have simply been the prospect of being able to return home, too. Or maybe even it was the realization that she no longer had to carry the weight of the world, and she was finally free to enjoy her life had finally sunk in. Whatever it was, the Lorekeeper had felt renewed as of late. Her steps were lighter, posture straighter, head held higher; she felt cheerful, even. Aster had even commented to her about such in the Pokémon's name based language one. She just smiled in response.
The former conqueror, too, seemed to be at peace. While nowhere near as upbeat as the Draconid was, Zinnia would have actually become concerned had that been the case, he too seemed livelier. Less broken, perhaps would be more accurate, but she noticed the subtle shifts in him as well. His strides were stronger, presence more powerful, gaze more confident; he seemed to be renewed, somewhat.
Zinnia's gaze returned to the horizon, sparing a quick glance at the rising sun. It was still early in the morning, and though her ferry was an early one, it would still be some time before it arrived, which meant that she had some spare time. The sound of snow crunching against her sandals drew the attention of the man as Zinnia turned to face him, a small, almost blithe, smile having broken out on her face.
"But until then..." her hand, obscured by her shawl, snaked to the back of her belt and reached for one of her Pokéballs. "I challenge you to a battle!"
A silent chuckle escaped Nobunaga's closed lips, one that was far less hollow than his previous. "Very well."
The obsidian-encumbered Warlord took a step to the side and motioned for the pseudo-legendary floating beside him, it too seemingly apathetic to the temperature, to float forwards. She threw the red and white sphere in her hands, and the two locked gazes for a brief moment. This time a small smirk managed to break through Nobunaga's neutral façade, seemingly pleased with the determination he saw in her eyes, and he raised a hand beckoning her to make the first move. Zinnia gave a nod and shouted out an order, the battle beginning.
Author's Notes:
Ugh, the excessive symbolism...
Right. So... I don't really have that much of an idea of why I wrote this, other than it suddenly occurred to me that Zinnia and Nobunaga have a lot of similarities and I was curious what would happen if they met. And, somehow, this happened as a result. Also, I feel I should give credit to Ten-Faced for somewhat inspiring me in the first place; particularly how she handled the interaction of various unrelated characters in her Platinum novelization Titanium, in which it got me thinking about how other characters who don't canonically meet would interact.