A/N: Hello everybody! It's me, TheAuthorGl1m0 (formerly known as gl1m0), presenting a new story to the Pokémon fanfiction community. You heard me right. :P I figured that since I've finally come back from my year-long hiatus, I may as well show off some of the thing's I was able to write when writer's block wasn't bothering me. This new story, Black Wishes & White Dreams, is among my new stories that I plan to attend to full time.
Now, what is this story about? It's about wishes and dreams, and how messed up they can truly be. I also wanted to make a story in the more 'fantasy-oriented' direction. Don't judge this introduction so swiftly; we all know it takes time for any story to get off the ground. Expect a grand adventure to begin soon, folks.
I won't blab any further, ladies and gents. Without any more ado, read and review…
Notes:
- I needn't explain that this is basic text. :P
- "This signifies normal speech."
- "(These are thoughts.)"
- "Italics in normal speech are 'mysterious' voices…or whispering." xP
- 'Italics in single apostrophes are words that are being read, but not out loud.'
- This or this is when heavy emphasis is used.
OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER, 'CUZ I SAID SO: I do NOT own Pokémon; be it the franchise, regions, Pokémon themselves, etc. It is owned by Nintendo and GameFreak. I would like to stress that the story generally follows the Black/White game storyline (which starts next chapter onward, FYI), though it certainly deviates in several areas. And I would also like to point out that the story may draw elements from the B/W anime (and partly the manga) in places. Some stuff is just made up. Oh well. Please don't sue. I'm poor. D:
BLACK WISHES & WHITE DREAMS
~ Chapter 1: Be Careful What You Wish For ~
"The world is full of genies waiting to grant your wishes."
-Percy Ross
If you were to ask me, wishes are best saved for dreams. At least in them, no matter what happens, it didn't really happen. Wishes coming true in real life can be pretty scary, particularly if you're not expecting them to happen. …Actually, on second thought, it probably would be even scarier if you do expect it.
It's been said so many times that it's almost criminal, but I'll say it anyway: Be careful what you wish for.
You see, I made a wish once. It was…a bit crazy, to be honest. I hadn't really meant to make it either…so I wasn't expecting anything to come of it. …There were more than enough signs that it would happen, I was just in too much denial to see them before…
Well, believe my story or not, it really did come true. And it all started with a question: "What does it mean to wish for a dream?"
But in retrospect, all the adventures I've had and the personal growth I've achieved since then…all in all was probably the most fun, fulfilling, and exciting stuff I've ever come to experience. Not to mention all the friends I've made along the way. I kind of didn't want it to end…
My story is a strange one, to be sure. But no matter how unbelievable it may seem, no matter how warped and delusional it may sound, it is the truth. This…is my story.
A story on how my wishes and dreams were both made real.
~O~
…Zack…
…
Zack… Zack…
…
Wake up… Zack…
…
"…Mrmph… H-huh…?"
The boy began to stir from his sleep. Opening his eyes and blinking to adjust to the light, he realized that the voice was only part of a dream that he had. He could hear a man's voice clearly…but, he couldn't place who it was, or where it was coming from. However, morning had already cast aside his shroud of sleep, and its meaning meant nothing to him right now.
"Oh well," he dozily mumbled to himself, "back to reality…"
Dragging his weary body out of bed, the boy walked across the bedroom to the window, and gazed outside. It was quite a late time for someone to wake up—almost 12:00 noon—but since it was the weekend, there was no worrying about school.
The boy's name is Zachary Thompson, though everyone just calls him "Zack" for short. At thirteen years old, Zack's just an average kid scraping his way through life.
After giving himself a minute to fully recuperate, Zack threw on some fresh clothing (a green t-shirt and gray sweatpants), and walked out of his room, towards the kitchen.
No one else was there, but Zack wasn't concerned. The previous night, his parents told him that they would be away today, but home tomorrow. That was okay with Zack, since he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.
Both his mother and father had full-time jobs outside of town, which often meant they could not be home as often as parents normally should. He used to have a caretaker until he was at least eleven, when he was able to feed himself and keep the house in order.
On top of that Zack's an avid gamer, as he owns many videogame of varying franchises and companies; which helps quell his boredom immensely. But his favorite series would have to be Pokémon, made by Nintendo. He's close to beating the latest game, Pokémon Black, but went on something of a hiatus and stopped playing (as he was offset by another game that took his fancy; Cave Story). But, I digress…
After the usual routine of making himself a simple breakfast cereal and consuming it, Zack went over to the computer in his own room. Bored, he sat down at the desk and hit the ON switch, booting up the computer in seconds. It wasn't anything fancy—as the CPU was a good four years old—but dang it, it was functional. As long as it could play his games, or open his websites, it was enough.
After checking to see if there were any updates on his forums (which there weren't, surprisingly), Zack decided to keep going at the game mentioned earlier, Cave Story.
…He willed away a good hour playing it, appreciative of the change of pace from RPGs he often played, until he realized he'd forgotten something. There was supposed to be a package delivered this morning! Right on the front door's step! How could he not have remembered?
"Gah… Better go get it before someone else does," he muttered to himself, pausing the game (right before the final boss, too) and heading out of his room.
Reaching the living room, and walking up to the front door, Zack casually grabbed the doorknob and opened it. As he expected, the package, which was not-so-suspiciously shaped like…a box, was right there on the porch step.
Zack gave it a short stare before picking it up with one hand, using the other to shut the door as he went back inside. The package, for those curious, belonged to his dad. The boy had no idea what it was, but he figured it was probably some more collectable stuff he usually gets off of eBay.
He hadn't much business with the package, so he simply set it down on the living room's coffee table and was about to leave…but then he noticed there was an even larger cardboard box on the table already. Strange, Zack thought. It was never there before.
Curiosity piqued, he set the parcel off the side and further examined the larger box, quietly asking himself how and when it got there. A large, taped-on label on the side read 'Curiosities' in dad's handwriting.
"(This must've been stuff my dad kept away in the closet or something,)" he thought to himself. "(But…I wonder… What's it doing here? Maybe he was clearing it out, or maybe wanted to mess around with whatever's inside? And probably forgot to put it away?)" He shrugged. "Eh…"
Though it could be looked upon as a blatant violation of privacy, Zack opened the top folds of the box (which were already loose, since the binding tape had been previously cut) and peered inside at the contents. Apparently, his dad had made it a hobby to collect junk.
There were all kinds of things in there, some that defied proper description, but all of it could be summed up in a few choice words: "curios", "relics", "knick-knacks", "bric-a-bracs", and, more bluntly, "garbage". Still, Zack was intrigued, and began sifting through the junk.
Taking out one of the items, Zack saw it was some kind of tiny potato-shaped, hollow piece of ceramic, dotted with holes, a mouthpiece protruding out one side, and coated in a glossy-white patina finish. Was it some kind of instrument? Zack checked it out thoroughly, careful not to drop it, and noticed a tag attached to the thing. It read: 'Perfect Pitch Ocarina – I was given this as a gift by a friendly old woman in England who collect ocarinas, apparently. This one is special; it can play any tune or song perfectly, so long as you can clearly focus it in your head!'
"(Perfect, huh. Well. Guess I'll be the judge of that,)" Zack thought bemusedly, softly shaking his head. Determined to disprove such a ludicrous claim, he put the mouthpiece to his lips and—thinking of one of his favorite tunes, the Pallet Town theme from Pokémon Red/Blue—started to blow.
…To his great surprise, the very same tune actually started playing! It didn't sound exactly like it, being a wind instrument instead of sound synthesizers, but it was still pretty darn unmistakable. It had barely gotten past the first few chords when Zack suddenly stopped and stared at the ocarina with utter disbelief.
Wanting to make sure he didn't imagine it, he thought of a different tune (this time one of his other favorites, the theme from Animal Crossing) and tried using it again. Unbelievably, the result was the same. The song played perfectly; true to the ocarina's supposed name. And to think, Zack never before used an instrument!
The boy decided to finish the tune all the way to its conclusion, then stared at the round instrument like it was made of gold. He smiled. "I don't think dad'll mind if I 'borrowed' this," he said to himself, and gingerly slipped the ocarina into his pocket. "Now, what else is in here…?"
Combing through the rest of the cardboard box of curios, Zack discovered many interesting (and a few not-so-interesting) things, all of which had a descriptive label tied to them. You'd think all this stuff would belong in a museum or something…and yet, here it is. Among the stuff was, according to its label, a Death Predictor. It resembled a pyramid with an open hole atop, and a sort of clock with strange symbols replacing the numbers one would see on a normal clock.
'Bought this from a psychic while traveling around in Europe,' the label read. 'She told me that if you were to let a drop of your blood fall into the hole atop, then it would reveal (via the clock) when you are due to…expire. Even if I did understand what the symbols meant, I would not want to try this one out…'
"…And neither would I." With those words of unease, Zack dropped the ancient machine into a 'Junk's Junk Pile' beside the box.
Countless small items, ranging from a 'Blessed Candlestick' to a 'Puzzling Safe' and even 'Alien Repellent' (Zack could only speculate what the heck his father was smoking when he decided to collect these), were dug out of the box. There wasn't really anything much more 'cool' besides the ocarina, except maybe a 'Key Cannon'—an antique flintlock gun built into a large iron key—which didn't work, being centuries-old.
Finally, after much snooping, the box was nearly empty. Only one thing was left, but it was wrapped up in some kind of brown paper, and seemed to be spherical-shaped. The label attached read: 'Smart Ball? – Some strange man sold me this at a flea market in New York. He said it had a 'special quality'; due to someone placing some kind of charm inside it when it was made. Not only does it give you many more answers (and words in general) than you'd typically expect, but its predictions are always true. Even I don't know what else it's capable of. To be honest, it kind of creeps me out…'
The tag was unusually cryptic. Smart BALL? Special quality? Predictions? Creeping out? Zack was slightly put-off by these words, but at the same time it riled his sense of curiosity. Without self-debate he boldly decided to remove the wrapping. It took him a good two minutes to negotiate with all that tricky paper, along with the tape holding it together, but he managed. Finally, the covering came off, and Zack pulled out the object within. Which was…?
"…Huh?" Oddly enough, the 'Smart Ball' was, in fact, an ordinary-looking Magic 8-Ball. It's one of those novelty items where you ask it a yes/no question, shake it, and you would get a "reply", which was a simple yes/no/maybe answer.
…So how exactly was it smart?
Zack was silent as he stared at the front of the ball, where the 8 was, then turned it around to see the reverse side. He could see the tiny see-through plastic 'porthole' and spotted the multi-sided die within the ball (the one that produces random answers whenever shaken), suspended by the deep blue fluid within.
Suddenly, that same die floated to the top of the ball, and a message became pressed against the plastic so that it would be readable. This was natural, as the die was merely obeying the principles of buoyancy. It was the message that was unnatural. 'So, what's your question?'
Zack furrowed his brow upon seeing this, instead questioning himself why a ball asked him to ask a question. "…Um…" The boy gritted his teeth sheepishly, trying to think of something—anything—to ask, then came up with, "Will…will it rain really soon?"
Nothing happened, as the same message was still displayed. But that was only because he had not shook the plastic ball, and he quickly did so. The resulting message was: 'Of course. Just look outside.'
"…" Zack scratched his head nervously. Why would it be as specific as for him to look outside? And wasn't it supposed to be sunny today, anyhow? Sighing, he looked out a nearby window. At first, nothing. Then a spatter of water droplets landed on the glass pane. More soon followed. Before Zack knew it, it was a downpour.
He was agape. "(How the heck…?)" Zack thought, almost shouting that thought but held it down with a gulp. "(…This must be a trick… It has to be…)"
"…L-Lucky guess," he mumbled to himself, then turned to the 8-Ball. "Alright, next question…er… Will mom and dad be back tomorrow?"
Two shakes later…
'Be specific.'
"(About WHAT?)" Zack felt like shouting again, but instead just grunted and asked, "Will MY mom and dad be here tomorrow? Like they promised?" He shook it vigorously.
'Yes, they will. Boy, aren't you a worrywart.'
"…" Zack decided to ignore that and move on. "Are you really that smart?" he asked, then shook.
'Read the label, genius.'
"…Nrgh…" If a ball is trying your patience, then unless you're playing soccer, golf or some other sport, you've got an issue. "…Alright, how about this. Am I smart?"
'With a 54% average? Keep dreaming.'
"…!" How did this thing know about his school grades? This thing…it was starting to make Zack feel afraid. But still, he was tempted to ask it more. "Just… Just what are you?"
'Yes or no questions only, please.'
"(How can it tell if I'm asking a yes/no question or not? Cripes…)" Shaking his head with disbelief, he asked a different question, if only to try and forget the other one. "What about…would I make a good astronaut, or something?"
'You? A claustrophobic? No way.'
Zack winced, gripping the 8-ball more tightly now and gulping. How did it know about his fear? The school marks were bad enough, but…how could it seem to know two very personal things about him?
For those unknowing, 'claustrophobia' is an irrational fear of enclosed spaces, particularly very small ones. Zack's mother shared this trait as well (runs in the family perhaps?), and their house was arranged to ensure they would not suffer panic attacks and the like. The rooms are spacious enough, and Zack is plenty used to spending time in the house without incident. He still refuses to use a locker at school however; for fear of some bully shoving him into such a cramped confines…
…It may seem very absurd to most people, but if a fear is great enough—a pathological phobia—then it can be a fair bit more serious. It's not an easy thing to overcome, even with therapy (which his parents can't afford anyway), so Zack simply has to live with it.
Ignoring the issue, Zack gave the supposed "Smart" ball a withering look and grimaced. "…On the…on the tag…it said that you were bought by my dad in New York… Is that true?" He shook it.
'Duh, of course.'
The boy shrugged. Well it was a bit of a stupid question to even ask; the label already said as much… "It…it also said on the tag you had other special capabilities," Zack said, tilting his head with wonder. "Well, do you?"
'…' Yes, an answer that consisted of those three dots answered him. The answer to his question was silence, in written form. Zack was dumbstruck.
"…Hey! Answer my question!" he demanded, shaking the ball furiously. It continued to produce the ellipsis response, so he asked again and again and shook the ball to the point where bubbles formed inside the fluid. Finally, he earned himself a response.
'…If I say yes, will you stop?'
Zack was silent for a moment. "…Stop what?"
'Shaking me so hard. It makes me ill.'
The boy didn't even bother to question the weirdness of this 'Smart Ball'. It had to have had some kind of computer inside it or…something. How such a thing would even work, he had no clue, but it was the only thing he could come up with besides 'magic'. "Alright. I promise. Do you have other capabilities?" He shook it gently.
'That's better. Yes, I do.'
Finally, confirmation. It meant little to Zack, but it was better than nothing. "…Like what? What other things can you do?" A pause, then he quickly tacked on, "I-I know you said only ask yes or no questions, but if you are 'smart' and 'capable' then you should be able to answer that, right?"
'…'
"…That is, unless I'm smarter and more capable than you…" Zack gave a coy little smirk after saying this, hoping that the ball's egotistic attitude would cave in to that claim.
'…Fine. I will say so.'
"Thank you. Now would you please?" He shook the ball.
'First, I can predict perfectly.'
"You proved your point with the rain," Zack said in agreement, and shook it again.
'Second, I can read the thoughts of—' The words cut off there, so Zack shook it more, and another message appeared to continue the last. '—those who hold me. Spooky, eh?'
"…Buh?" Zack nearly dropped the 8-ball then and there. That's how it knew his marks in school, and about his claustrophobia…
'Third, I can produce any response.'
"Again, proven," he said, sighing. "Proven all-too-well by now…"
'Fourth, though it is rare, it is in—' Shake, shake… '—my power to grant wishes.'
Zack paused, letting two seconds pass before speaking again. "…That last one was a lie, wasn't it? A joke?"
'Finally, I cannot lie. Jokes, however…'
"…" The boy shook the ball again again, producing another '…' response, and frowned. "You can't be serious about the wishing bit…"
'I do not say anything with uncertainty.'
Zack could barely comprehend such a thing. Granting wishes? Tropes reserved for genies, fantasy movies and books? What a crock of… "Um…ball? Smart Ball? Whatever your name, uh…can you stick to saying things that don't sound so…?" Zack wanted to say 'outlandish', but ended up blurting, "So… So crazy? You're full of crap!"
'You were the one that asked, not me.'
He bit his lip. Okay, the 8-Ball has him there… "But still…! Ugh… It's too hard to believe, don't you realize that?" Zack shook it, then stopped, and frowned. He was having an argument with a godforsaken BALL. Talk about no life…
'Yes. For stupid people, it is hard.'
"…!" Did the ball just insult him yet again? Now Zack was mad. "Who're you calling stupid, you screwed-up novelty toy!"
'Jeez. Short-tempered. How pitiful. To—'
Another cut-off response… Zack just wanted to drop the thing and return to his room, but he decided to finish what he started. He shook it again.
'—think I considered giving you one…'
"…One? One what?" The boy shook it, anger replaced by wondering.
'A wish, of course. But it seems clear—' Shake, shake… '—that you don't want one. Loser.'
Zack made a face. Why would he want a wish? And second, what could he possibly wish for? …Well, he did fancy that new 3DS in stores…
He briskly shook his head, driving out the thought. No, not on something selfish like that…
"…And you're right about that," Zack finally answered, frowning. "I don't want a wish. Because I don't need one. You're the loser, methinks."
'A little false hope never hurt…'
"'False hope'? Gimme a break… You just said that you can go 'poof' and grant a wish…"
'Just because you can make a wish—' Zack grudgingly shook it again. '—doesn't mean it'll happen.'
Zack's eyes narrowed. "But then why were you so specific about 'having the power'?"
'At best I can influence the fates. That—' Shake, shake, shake… '—doesn't mean I have total control.'
"…You also said that you couldn't lie! Or say things you don't know!"
'Wishes and truths are very different.'
"That may be, but…" The boy sighed with exasperation. "You know what, that's it. I'm through talking to you…" He nearly set the ball down when he thought of something else to say. "…Oh, and another thing…" Zack held the 8-Ball up to his face in emphasis. "You're just a stupid ball. HAH!"
He shook it again, laughing, and looked at what the ball had to say to that. His smirk disappeared instantly.
'And you're a bit fat pussy. Burn.'
Fed up with this ball's crap, Zack punted it across the room. The novelty toy sailed through the air and landed with a dull thunk somewhere in the hallway. "Predict THAT!" Zack shouted angrily, fuming. To heck with that thing, it's nothing but trouble… "(Can't believe I argued with a ball for ten minutes… Seriously, this has 'WTF' written all over it…)"
…But then Zack realized something. "…Ah, cripes," he grumbled, face-slapping, and dashed after the Smart Ball. Running into the hallway, he picked up the black sphere and dusted it off, scrutinizing it for any major dings or scuffs. It was fully intact, and the boy sighed with relief. Even if it was testing his temper, Zack could not try and damage it; dad might notice and his butt would be roasted for sure…
After finished with his little 'inspection', Zack looked at the viewing port once again with a scowl as the die once more reached the plastic with another message. 'May I suggest anger management?'
"…Stuff it, you ball," Zack grumbled. "You're lucky that you're technically dad's little toy, or else I'd…oh, I'd throw you in the oven!"
'Okay, you're obviously upset. I get it.'
"Damn straight! I usually don't get so mad… But jeez, you are something else!"
'Still, my offer stands.'
"Eh? What offer?"
'…'
"…Hello?"
'…'
"…" Seeing as how their "conversation" (if it could even be called that) was over, Zack just wanted to ignore the weirdness of the "Smart Ball" and go let off some steam. …Oh, that's right; didn't he have an in-progress game of Cave Story on his computer? Oh, heck yeah! So, he went and hurried back to his room, unintentionally hauling the 8-Ball along with him.
Once back in his little sanctuary, Zack shut the door behind him and haphazardly dropped the ball on his bedside table before plopping his rear on a chair at his computer desk. With the push of a button, he was once again engaged with the game at hand…
…And six hours and 74 deaths later, he had defeated the final boss, passed through the Bonus Level of Hell (figuratively AND literally), and finally destroyed the REAL final boss, thus beating the game and earning the best ending. Yes, it took him six hours of persistence and constant hair-ripping to beat those last areas. It's that hard. (A/N: Seriously.)
It was late, almost 9 PM by now, so he finally decided to call it quits on the computer and straddled off to his bed…but not before grabbing his DSi from a shelf, flicking the 'on' switch, and half-jumping onto his bed.
Zack typically played his DSi late at night while lying in bed, for no other reason than he wasn't very tired even at this hour. Oftentimes he would play straight up to midnight or even further on than that. His school's within easy walking distance, so he can afford to manage his sleeping schedule as such…usually.
Once the system was booted up, the boy inserted the cartridge for Pokémon Black Version into the slot, and started up the game. Whistling as he skipped past the intros and title screen, Zack loaded his save file and got underway. Currently, he (his in-game avatar) was in Opelucid City, and he was about ready to head up to challenge the Elite Four.
Now, he hadn't even beaten the game once yet. While this may seem pretty surprising, as the game has been out for more than a year, he was too preoccupied with other matters (ie. Internet, online games, Cave Story…). That and he never actually bought Pokémon Black until just recently. His family isn't rich, remember? They can't afford to buy games all the time, much less catch up with recent titles, so Zack tends to 'draw out' a game's playability to compensate while he waits for his meager allowance to build up.
He still loves RPGs though. He's played at least one of each generation of Pokémon games, two Final Fantasy games, and he once played both EarthBound and Chrono Trigger on an SNES emulator. …Cave Story might partially count as one too, kinda, so that's another.
But now, he was ready. Venturing up Route 10, Zack encountered his in-game 'friends', Cheren and Bianca, the former of whom challenges Zack to a quick battle. After practically curbstomping him, Zack finally made his way to Victory Road. And after an hour of navigation, battling, and last-minute training, Zack went up the mountain to the Elite Four building (being sure to save before entering, of course) and started the challenges…
Over another hour (maybe two) he faced off versus the four members of the Elite Four (if it wasn't obvious), descended a really cool elevator/statue thing, and was about ready to head up the steps to the Champion's room…
…However, he was feeling extremely tired by this point. It was already past midnight, and even though it was still a weekend, he couldn't force himself to stay up forever. Sighing, he saved the game and shut off his DSi, then pulled the covers over him.
Zack couldn't help but think about the game though. So far, it was better than any other Pokémon game he'd played so far (except for maybe SoulSilver, or Emerald…but I digress). There's still the tried and true formula of "catch, train, and battle" and all that jazz, but still…the game felt almost…personal.
A question: Do you often find yourself becoming emotionally attached to the characters in many RPGs? Zack was having that issue now. From the serious Cheren, to the giddy Bianca, and to the enigmatic N… Strange, these characters felt more alive than prior ones had. Them and more. Not to mention the many conflicts faced by everyone throughout, and the overarching concept of truth versus ideals...Black versus White...it all seemed so engrossing to Zack.
Another question: In the same vein as the prior question, do you often find yourself become attached to your Pokémon team in the games? Again, Zack was feeling that knot in his stomach. He'd raised his team of Serperior, Haxorus, Klinklang, Reuniclus, Bisharp and Emolga quite well, as they all did him good in the fights against the Elite Four…
Zack wondered about something. What would it be like to actually know Pokémon? To actually raise them? Go on a journey, perhaps? It sounds way too good to be true, and as it happens, it is. So such fantasies are locked away in his dreams… Ah, but who knows? Maybe he'll dream of being a trainer in Unova again tonight… Ah, lovely dreams. The one place anyone with hopes and unfulfilled wishes can retreat to…
"(…Unfulfilled wishes, huh,)" Zack thought, idly letting his thoughts drift as he tried to get to sleep. "(Wonder what it all means… I mean, what's the point? Why wish when you can dream?)" His eyes passed over the small table beside his bed, catching sight of the 8-Ball. "(…Oh, forgot it was there… If it isn't 'Smart Ball – Granter of Wishes'… Heh, what a load…)"
Reaching out with his arm, the bemused lad found himself grabbing the ball and holding it up to his face. "Aren't you a little something," he mumbled almost soundlessly, chuckling. He didn't care what the ball had to say to him, so he covered up the viewport with a cupped hand. "(But man… This thing… I still can't figure out how it works… Is it really…magic?)" Zack shook his head. "(…Bleh, listen to you Zack, you sound like a madman already.)"
…As he was thinking of putting back down the ball, a strange notion washed into his mind, as if it was not his own but he was thinking it anyway.
"(What does it mean to wish for a dream?)"
Zack blinked, a bit confused. Where did THAT thought come from? It was weird to him, but still, he thought about it. "(Wish for a dream? But…what's the point? Doesn't the saying go 'be careful what you wish for'? …Then again, there's no guarantee it'll happen, it's just false hope…)" He made a face. "(…At least, that's how this stupid 'Smart' Ball put it…)"
Quiet in both the room and his mind, Zack spent a moment blankly observing the partially obscured 8-Ball, before words he hadn't really meant to say escaped his lips. "I…wish I knew what it was like...to be in that game…" Biting his lip nervously, he added, "Just to see if it's any more interesting…"
Gently shaking his head, he placed the 8-Ball flat-side up on the bedside table without looking, and sighed. "Yeah right… The only way I'll ever know that is…in my dreams," he murmured sadly, and slipped further under the covers, feeling even more tired for some reason.
"What does it mean…eh…what does it matter," Zack muttered before he silently slipped into the unconscious state of sleep.
If Zack had looked at the ball's latest message before he fell asleep, then he would've known it read the following:
'Be careful what you wish for, indeed.'
~O~
He is coming.
The time is at hand.
I had little faith at first.
But now, it seems that our goals will prove reachable.
The boy sleeps…
But he will soon awaken.
And when he does…
…one life will end, another will begin…
…and the world as we know it will change forever.
A/N: Oooooh, mystery! So there ya have it folks. Allow me to introduce Zack, and BW&WD! What lies ahead for him? Heh, well, we'll all see about that… *grins evilly*
…But why a wish-granting 8-ball, for Zekrom's sake? O_o Funny story about that… It all came about when I was messing around with a Magic 8-Ball, bored out of my living skull. I asked it random questions and junk (one of which was 'will I ever finish my other stories?' to which it replied "Without a doubt." :D), and after I got bored again I decided to pretend that it was 'smart'… I shared the idea with my younger brother, who got a kick out of it, and I wrote a little short story about a 'smart(-aleck) 8-ball'—which made it into this chapter. I talked with some friends about the idea, when someone (I can't recall who) suggested 'Wouldn't it be cool if it really was magic?'…
…And I sorta took the concept off from there. Somewhere along the line, Pokémon Black and White got involved—possibly due to the fact that I was playing it around the time, but who wasn't—and the idea eventually metamorphosed into what you see today… But, it's only just started. Alongside Pokéville and Pokémon Project, I plan to make this a major project. No worries, I have my OWN laptop (FINALLLLLLYYYYYY!) so I can finally get cracking on my fanfics nearly-full-time! Rejoice!
To wrap up these off-on-a-tangent notes, let me just say: thanks so much for reading! And please, review to let me know how it sounds so far! Any feedback would be nice… :D
Reference Notes:
-Most of the items in the curio box are completely made up…except for the Key Cannon. Believe it or not, they actually DID make these centuries ago. Crazy, huh?
-And yes, Zack was playing Cave Story. It's an awesome game, so if you have not played it, do yourself a favor: Download it, and play it. Right now. DOO EET NAO.
-And AGAIN yes, I referred to a couple of RPGs that Zack apparently played before: EarthBound, Chrono Trigger, and Final Fantasy, all of which are great games that any RPG fan MUST play if you dare call yourself one. …Snarkiness aside, I still highly recommend them. ^_^
-I needn't explain that the 'Smart Ball' is just a (really weird) 8-Ball… But, we won't see much more of it past this chapter. It's hard to personalize a magical novelty toy very well…
Review where it's due, osha! Until next update, FARE THEE WELL!
-TheAuthorGl1m0