Well, writer's block and a fantastic fanfiction and challenge by SilverUmbra has brought this on. Thank you, SilverUmbra, for this challenge and some good reads!
By the way, this is my first Legendary fic, so I'd love some advice on how to make it better. Really, if you review, tell me what you liked, what you hated, anything! But, if it is something you hated, I'd love you to tell me how to make it better!
Pairing: Arceus and Giratina
Arceus' Lament
It got lonely, sometimes.
How could it not? Being a god is a lonely task. Nothing but thank you's and worship and pleads for me. Not that I mind those things, the thank you's are especially nice. I am a tad vain.
It's just…I feel so unfulfilled. I've created so much, given power to so many, yet I seem to feel empty inside.
The times I have seen this is countless humans and pokémon, it's because they lack love.
But I am a god.
I lack nothing of the sort. I get nothing but love from the world, no matter what name they call me.
As for a mate?
I need no mate.
Even if it does get lonely.
Yet, there is one who seems to be having the same problem as me. One who I could share with. It's not my place to talk to him, really. Giratina isn't exactly someone a god of my status should talk to. Not because, of course, that our powers are rivaled only by each other, or that he is as dark as I am light. It is that ever since the beginning, and supposedly until the end, it simply isn't done. That's what the universe commands.
Yet the universe seemed to lead me right into his path that stormy night above the clouds. As to why, I'm sure I have no idea. The universe is strange a thing.
"You're Giratina," I said slowly, eyeing the strange creature before me. He certainly did not look like the other Legendaries I had created. He was not majestic, as Lugia. He was not graceful, as Suicune. He was not elegant, as Cresselia. In fact, I would say he was rather ugly. What with spikes of red and his black, silver and yellow body. He appeared to be an overgrown beetle a child had painted by number.
"You're Arceus," He said, his voice much deeper than mine.
It was at this moment I realized I was female, and he was male. I had a gender, like the other pokémon did. I was half of a whole. I could bear offspring, but not on my own. If I ever wanted to have children. I would need someone else. Someone male.
I had never needed anyone before.
"Why are you here?"
He would not look at me, but kept his eyes to the wreckage below; the sea was tossing a ship, a big ship to the point where many of the men had begun to pray. I could not save them from the weather. When it was their time, it was their time. I did not wish it to be so, but it was.
"I'm making the storms," He said quietly.
I blinked. "There are people there."
"Yes."
"You could kill them."
"I am killing them," He accented.
"I don't understand. Shouldn't you being doing your job, like the other pokémon? I know your job is not to create storms. I created someone else for that," I said, proud of myself. This creature might've been strange and rude, but I still knew more than him. I was still a god, and he was not. I did not need him.
"My job is not to create storms," He growled, another wave crashing down on the boat. The men's screams were starting to get to me. I wished I could save them, but rules are rules, and this was their fate. "My job is to take those who's time has come, and lead them down to where I rule."
"You rule?" I asked, feeling my face wrinkle up tightly in confusion. "But I rule everything, in this dimension and all others. I am God. My job has been explained to me by the universe. What right do you have to say that you rule?" A strange feeling began to rise in me, making my teeth bare, a strange growling noise rise into my throat, and every muscle tense and heat. I wanted to hurt him, bite him.
But I was not supposed to hurt him, and gods do not bite.
"My job," He continued, his voice strained with patience, "is also explained to me by the universe. You rule in all dimensions and in a place for the dead known as heaven. I rule in a place for the dead known as hell."
"Hell?" I asked, never feeling so confused in my life.
"You get the good souls. I take the bad souls," He explained quietly, finally looking at me. I tried not to stumble at his eyes, glowing red through the darkness. They were so…not angry. No rage was held in the gaze, but hurt. It made no sense. How could a creature with so much power, to dictate the lives and deaths of the world, ever feel hurt or sadness? How could a creature with so much strength have eyes that empty?
"You look like the rest of them," He said finally. You're beautiful. No wonder they all scream for you when I come for them." He turned his face down to the sea. "If you'll excuse me, Arceus, my bitter rival. I've some men to take to my special place, and a few more to sway to my side."
Then, with a strange, lumbering gait, he crawled forward to the edge of the cloud, and leaned towards the earth until gravity carried him over.
I was frightened, just for a moment, that the pokémon had just decided to kill himself. My vain self thought that, perhaps, the goodness and greatness and power of my presence had taken the strange thing's last straw and wrecked his mind from the inside out, but no. He began to float a second later with the hovering pattern of a ghost type, before rocketing forward with the power of a charizard fresh released from a pokeball.
I trotted to the edge of the cloud, watching him do his job with my head cocked to the side.
I had learned many things that day, things I could've gone my whole existence not knowing, yet somehow I'm glad I did. Somehow I was glad that I had met this strange being, with eyes of red and strange, strange wings. Wings like nothing I'd ever seen. Not like Charizard's wings nor pidgey's wings nor angel's…
Angel wings.
Yes, I finally understood now. I understood everything that had happened to me. I was clear to me what he was! All this time of wondering what Legendary would appear this way, what creature with such power would hide form the world, from me, the Good, the Creator, the Lover. The answer was right in front of me, in fact, stuck to his back and flapping like glaring neon signs the human used to light their cities at night.
He was an angel.
A fallen angel.
Still, he was an angel nevertheless.
And I had never been more enthralled to something more strange than Giratina.
He was dark and I was light.
Two halves of a whole.
And perhaps, it wouldn't get so lonely anymore.
And that was my attempt. That really cleared up some writer's block.
Roses are red, violets are blue, I gave this a shot, now how about you?
Are you up for the challenge?
