Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.
A/N: So I've decided to write a few one-shots for practice in random genres. What better practice is there than writing random pokemon lore? I may take requests for certain species of pokemon if you ask nicely.
Sleep
Humans use many sayings which involve my species. I was so tired, I slept like an abra. As elusive as an abra. When an abra sleeps, does it dream?
I do dream, too often. And when I do, I enter that place where all of my kind, evolved and otherwise, go. It is not a paradise or a punishment to be there, but each minute ages the mind infinitely.
We share information. What is, was, and may well be. My first dream, I saw the world born of the clash of titans—land, sky, and sea mixing to form one. I witnessed how the three desperately wanted to destroy each other in great battles stained with the blood of ancients.
When I woke for those scant few seconds afterward, I felt blades of grass between my fingers, the moist earth underneath. It was my first lesson. We all have our places in the world, a purpose to fulfill. Life is strife, creation a battle, and failure… death.
I cannot begin to share what I've seen in those long hours of solitude. Things history has thrown to the wayside, the stories of conquered kingdoms, never to be told again except for whispers from alakazam to abra.
There is the good and the bad, but the bad sticks while the good always seems to fade. I've seen the seven deadly sins of humans in motion. Lust leads to overpopulation. The gluttony of one, the starvation of thousands others. Wrath starting wars, sloth finishing them. Envy making murderers and pride, the murdered. But the worst of them all is greed. I can feel it pulsing from the humans who try to catch me while I rest.
Humans want to catch me for the wrong reasons. I read it off their minds—they want a psychic type to battle for them, protect them, grow with them. They do not understand. We are not fighters. We do not evolve through fighting. Rather, evolution is status of the mind. I am abra because I understand so little of the world. Kadabra have a better grasp. Alakazam know everything, and those that survive all that knowledge must live with it. One should not wonder why there are so few alakazam.
I could not grow with a human because I am already ancient in all ways that matter. I have seen the way arceus's eyes tighten as it looks upon its creation—our world—and how it has evolved. I know how easily it can all be destroyed and made anew.
To wake is the biggest joy to me. Those whispers of knowledge slip out of my grasp, leaving silence… sweet peace. I open my eyes the barest crack, watching clouds skitter by on breaths of wind. How I long in the time I wake to be able to walk instead of sit, fly instead of teleport. It is in those minutes I have awake that I wish I could experience instead of know the world.
But it is my place to know. As I struggle against the siren's call of sleep, I realize how futile my place really is. There are those among my kind that never wake, for they enjoy their knowledge so much. It is they that will be alakazam.
I do not desire my sleep. Yet I feel it pulling at my mind, even now.