Rating: K+
Uploaded: July 19/10
Summary: "You are now one of My Chosen, for I have plans for you..."
Been wanting to write this idea for a while now. Also, ironically, I listened to Giratina's theme while writing this lD
-x-
-x-
You realize you're dreaming the instant the dream begins.
You can't place why this is, but then again, dreams are never rational things. Of course, it might be because of your surroundings and how they are far beyond words. There is no color. There is no dark, there is no light. A maelstrom of rainbow butterflies dances across your vision, filling the area. Your tongue lights up with a thousand different tastes, both exotic and remembered. You melt from delight and recoil in disgust, even as wisps of wind dance over your skin. Flames follow, their heat both painfully hot and painfully cold, and scents overwhelm you. A rose, a Grimer, freshly-baked cookies, the stench of decay, and other things you can't place...
This is a place of ordered chaos, or should that be chaotic order? And it is no ordinary dream. You can feel it.
The butterflies solidify in the uncolor, and it approaches you. The scents shift and the flames shrink, and the static in your ears quiets. A hush falls in the dreamworld as it holds its breath and waits.
"I Am," the figure says.
It is your size. No larger, no smaller. The sifting color allows you to only make out the barest of details - a quadrupedal, slender body and little beyond that. There is an arc of sorts around its midsection, dotted with patches of uncolor. You realize that it's the most normal thing in this strange landscape. That, however, counts for very little.
"Who are you?" you ask. You're not sure if you expect an answer or not.
"I Am," the figure repeats. The dreamworld shudders alongside its words in silent laughter.
Is it mocking you, you wonder? The tone sounds more playful. Here, though, nothing is what it seems.
"I Am," the figure says again, but this time it is an explanation. You understand, this time, and your confidence and voice desert you. This being is not to be trifled with. Its importance cannot be overstated, because without it... nothing would exist. Nothing could exist.
The being nods, and the universe shakes with laughter once more. "It is not I that is important, mortal. No, it is you."
You struggle to understand its words. There is a meaning behind them, you're sure of it. It's a paradox, but surely...
"You are now one of My Chosen, for I have plans for you..."
You finally find your voice, and you open your mouth to speak, but of course - this being before you needs no words. Indeed, it needs no thoughts. It simply knows.
"There is an imbalance in My world - in your world. Foolish creatures are involved in matters that they do not know the consequences of. Your task... is to stop them."
"But - " You stop, because you're sure it isn't wise to disagree with this being. It has inflicted its wrath on others for far less. Being a 'Chosen' will not save you.
Yet, the being takes no offense. It acknowledges the emotions behind the doubt, rather than the doubt itself. "I will walk the path with you. No harm will befall you, mortal."
And you realize that this being isn't forcing its will upon you. It doesn't want a slave. No, it wants a person that has entered this journey through their own free will. One who has the desire and the willpower to see it to the end, no matter how tough things become.
The being waits. It feels like an eternity. You know it's waiting for an answer, and despite its power you know it won't begrudge you if you refuse. But the question is, can you refuse? This is your chance to be something different, to stand out from the crowd. If you do what this being asks of you, you know you will accomplish things beyond anyone's wildest dreams...
You nod.
It smiles.
-x-
You awaken to your alarm clock. Odd; it's summer, and you have no place to be so early in the morning... you're sure you didn't set it the previous night... You roll over and fumble for the off button. The shrill sound cuts off, and you settle back into your sheets, ready to sleep for another few hours.
As your eyes slide shut, a butterfly lands on the windowsill.
The dream returns to you, and you find that you're no longer interested in sleeping. You sit up, rubbing your eyes. The butterfly is gone, as though it was never there, but you can see the roof of another building. As you pad over to the window and look out, you realize you know what the building is.
It is the lab of the resident Professor. You know he has Pokemon, and you know he has been considering giving them away to young Trainers. You were never particularly interested in becoming a Trainer... too much danger, too much travelling. But that was before. Now...
You're quick to dress, half-stumbling down the stairs in your haste. You stop only to grab your pack and explain yourself to your mother. It isn't long before you're out the door. You find yourself with a sudden boundless energy, a drive to leave this sleepy town and explore the region and beyond. And besides, you have things to do. Places to see, people to meet, Pokemon to catch...
A butterfly flutters ahead of you and the wind whispers through the trees.
'Godspeed on your journey, mortal.'
