Author's Note: Welcome everybody! I appreciate that you stopped by. This is a story about the life and feelings of two original characters in a tenuous world that may soon be engulfed in water or fire. Because the story mostly takes place on Mt. Pyre you will also encounter some elements of the supernatural too. Though this pokemon fic is primarily a drama and a love story, its not 100% one genre or the other. There will still be a bit of fantasy now and then and pokemon battles!
I have two other stories I am working on right now, a rarepair comedy Wedding Yells and drama about Team Plasma called N's Shadow. They're kinda all competing for my attention since I work slowly :) I plan to complete all of my fanfictions, but I will likely prioritize the story that I think more people would like to read unless a bolt of inspiration suddenly strikes. So if you like High Tide then let me know. Obviously you don't have to review, follow or do anything that you do not want to, but it does help me to keep track of who is reading.
Happy reading!
- Lore
I: Back from the Dead
Dylan stood in front of her adoptive family. A lake of hair poured down her hips as she made a deep bow before the couple. The priestess had two tendrils braided and held together by heart scales, and wore a ceremonial crown on her head made from palm bark, prism scale, cowrie and abalone. Her last totem was a teardrop-shaped amulet that hung from her neck known as mystic water, a talisman to enhance the power of water-based moves.
Though she wore sacred robes Dylan had not come from a line of priests but a den of thieves. She had left Team Aqua when she was twelve, but Team Aqua had not left her. Archie's people were distinctive men and women with dark pools of indigo for eyes and brown skin like the earth. It was almost unnerving to see a female version of Archie standing in attendance at Mt. Pyre, guarding the colored orbs.
"Honorable Grandparents," said Dylan, clasping her hands together."Do I have your permission to take Goldeen to the top of the mountain for the water ceremony?"
"There is no need to be so formal with us Dylan-chan," the old woman replied with a broad smile.
An old man wearing glasses with lenses the size of voltorbs rose from his rocking chair. "Such a loving girl, but always so serious. We hoped that by now you would come to see this as your home as much as ours."
"I do sir, I do with all of my heart. You have each shown me every kindness," Dylan exclaimed, finally making eye contact.
"Go on and flatter these old bones of ours," she chuckled, lifting her granddaughter's chin gently. "We are the ones who are treated with kindness. You are like our Phoebe. We thank Rayquaza everyday for sending you to us. It is your strength that keeps the orbs safe from every threat."
"That's not true Grandmother," she cried out, placing her head on the old woman's shoulder. She turned and looked back at her grandfather with love. "You both taught me everything I know."
"Bless your heart," she said, presenting the girl with a bowl that contained a plump but lovely goldfish with what seemed to be a unicorn horn protruding from its skull.
The old woman looked at Dylan and still saw Phoebe. They were about the same age, both dark-skinned with similar eyes, raven hair and were able to speak to the dead. They might have been sisters.
In other ways the two girls were as different as Mt. Chimney to the cool sea surrounding Sootopolis City. Phoebe was genkai and curious, while Dylan seemed decades older just from the look in her eyes as she sternly performed her needlework.
Her manner was understandable. Dylan had left behind everyone and everything she had ever known, trying to do the right thing. Her father was the head of Team Aqua. She had never spoken of a mother.
She does not even have one friend her own age, the old woman thought to herself pityingly. Only us two old-timers and pokemon to talk to.
The old man asked, "Is there anything else sweetheart?"
"No Grandfather, you have prepared me well," she said, bowing again out of habit. "With your permission I will take my leave now to prepare the grounds atop the mountain."
"Always remember that you are our granddaughter now," she said hugging her tightly.
Dylan nodded as both of her grandparents came and kissed her on the forehead. She accepted Goldeen, then silently carried the fishbowl up the staircase to the highest level the tower.
It was one thing for an old couple to end out their days on this mountain, and another for a woman as young and spirited as Dylan to scrub floors and build funeral pyres until she was gray and bent over, the old woman thought with a shake of her head, watching her disappear into the dark.
Yet, I am not brave enough to tell her to go. We are old and frail. The goldeen I found fishing is the closest I have to a trained pokemon. Without Dylan here or Phoebe how long can we ward off criminals? How many years do we even have left?
Dylan climbed the spiral staircase, passing mediums and channelers who had come to the shrine to hone their skills. Hex Maniacs were on the knees, crumbled in the corners of the walls wearing their hair wild and unkempt as they stuck pins into their voodoo dolls. All the while psychics leaned against the wall with disinterest.
The psychic men were barefoot as usual, clad in black and white, moving pokeballs through the air with just one look by using telekinesis. As far as they were concerned a girl who had only memorized a few eulogies was nothing compared with their own powers.
There was a fairytale girl who whispered to her mom about how very pretty the priestess was, and that she wanted to be just like her when she grew up. Dylan's face remained ice as she walked by a wall of urns.
Some trainers bowed in the presence of the high priestess, but Dylan acted as though every man or woman visiting the shrine was invisible to her. There was a pelipper who was no longer living, and that was her only concern. The pokemon's trainer was devastated, and Dylan's place was to make Pelipper's journey to the next world a swift and peaceful one, rather than stand around and listen to gossip and flattery.
She stepped outside into the light. The air was clean and spring flowers were in bloom, a welcome change from the heavy fumes of lax incense that filled the halls.
Out of a patch of grass appeared a stray pokemon. Vulpix's face was closer to a lamb than a fox, with round, soulful eyes. His fur was brick-colored, his underbelly soft and creamy. A fluffy fan of six orange tails coiled behind him as he mewed at Dylan. She set food out for him daily.
Dylan wanted to wave at him, but now was not the time. She was beginning the ritual and was going to keep a straight face. Vulpix followed the pair of long legs up the hardstone stairway. The human and pokemon entered the fog together, venturing into the deepest part of the graveyard.
She knelt by a boulder and faced the empty grave. This was the place where they would bury Pelipper once the trainer arrived with the bird pokemon's body.
A band dangled from her wrist with a clam shell attached to the string. She struck the shell bell over and over again with her fingers, filling the cemetery with the sound of stones clashing against each other in a rattle.
Vulpix stayed back, situating himself in a patch of grass with his paws crossed. The big jasper eyes shined with interest. He had not seen this ritual before. Vulpix yawned and stretched as Dylan began playing a jolly tune on the white flute. Before he realized it his head was bopping along to the melody.
She clutched at a circle of prayer beads that hung around her palm, closed her eyes and whispered fervently, "The ground on which we stand is sacred, the blood of great ancestors runs through it."
Goldeen circled the bowl anxiously, knowing that at any moment the priestess would call on her to perform her duties and cleanse the space with water.
The sky opened and a flock of wingull poured out of the heavens and descended on the cemetery. Vulpix stared amazed at the hundreds of white birds that walked across the grass and perched on the text of the headstones. Hordes were never this large.
Many of the seabirds covered Dylan from head to toe, perching on her wrist and in her hair, nuzzling her neck, thirsting for the belue berries in her crown, making their high-pitched cries and carrying with them the smell of salt water.
They were cute, slim pokemon with airplane-line wings, upturned tail feathers and innocent, dark eyes. However, appearances could be deceiving. Dylan kept her eyes closed as she carried on with the ritual. She knew as a priestess what the pokemon really were- dead.
The wingull that played in the graveyard had died years ago. They were the ancestors of the pelipper that would be buried this week. Trainers and pet-owners had been bringing their pokemon to Mt Pyre for centuries. When Dylan played the white flute it was a call to the ancient pokemon to let them know that another pokemon had died, and would try to cross over and be with them soon. It was her job as a priestess to request that they help him and be good to him.
Grandmother had told Dylan that it was best not to look at the dead pokemon when they came to attend a wake. Even though the spirits were generally benevolent they were still pokemon, and some would long to have a pokemon trainer again. If they made eye contact they might settle on her! It was very important not to excite the wondering souls any more than was necessary for the ceremony.
The priestess sat a reveal glass on the moss-covered tiles of stone without ever opening her eyes. Next to the mirror was a plate full of every kind of berry to appease the spirits of the dead. The food remained untouched as the pokemon walked about the grave site.
"I humbly speak in the presence of greater beings than myself. I give thanks, and pray that you will accept Pelipper and teach him your ways good spirits."
With closed eyes she held up a second bell, the soothe bell, and shook the tiny silver instrument. It chimed a sweet harmony to make the ghosts all around her rejoice.
Had she opened her eyes she would have seen a shadow standing behind her. There was no pokemon visible, just the the contour of a pelipper. This was the spirit of the pokemon that would be buried soon. He had arrived at Mt. Pyre and was waiting for his trainer to bring his body for proper burial. He was not fully part of this world any longer, but neither had he completely crossed over into the next, and was nothing more than a shadow.
"Goldeen, aqua ring now," Dylan demanded with hands still clasped in prayer.
"Goldeeeen!" cried the white and red goldfish, leaping from the bowl.
The pokemon's large, heavily lidded eyes grew serious as she surrounded herself with a circle of water. A wall of bubbles filled the cemetery as Dylan continued to pray. The priestess grasped handfuls of shoal salt and tossed them into the open grave.
Dylan slipped the black flute from her pocket and played the same melody she had performed on the white flute, but this time she played it backwards and lowered the key. It was the instrument that would close the circle and send the pokemon away.
One by one the ancestral spirits took to the skies, and wrapped themselves in the clouds, never to be seen again.
Dylan opened her eyes only after she heard the flapping of wings come to a stop, and knew for certain that the ritual was over and no one had stayed behind. She carefully picked up her tools, washed them off and walked to the entrance of the graveyard, holding the fishbowl with Goldeen close to her heart. Vulpix rushed out behind her.
"Goldeen, quickly! Cleanse me," she commanded, standing just outside of the gateway.
"Goldeen," the pokemon responded in an assuring tone of voice.
A ring of water appeared over Dylan's head. Vulpix hurried away, careful not to get his paws and six tails wet as Goldeen used soak. Drops of holy water fell from the halo that formed around the priestess, washing her clean.
"Thank you Goldeen," said the priestess petting the wet fish scale.
The fish smiled. "Goldeen, goldeen!"
Dylan held a cleanse tag. She threw the pink and white ofuda at the arched entrance to the graveyard, adding a little extra protection for restless spirits.
Dylan's ears were filled with a gentle ringing. The music was similar to wind chimes. Only one pokemon made such a sound. She looked at the sky and saw a round psychic pokemon. The cheerful pokemon's color scheme blended in with the sky as she floated by. A papery tail trailed behind her across the clouds. However, Chimecho's expression was far from her usual joyful mood. She was beside herself with worry.
Dylan already knew why she had come. She ran back into her home, and the fox pokemon raced behind her, ready to do whatever he could to help. Dylan had instructed the Chimecho to use her cry as a warning bell whenever she saw intruders near. Her sudden appearance and the sound of the bells meant only one thing- someone was after the orbs.
They guarded precious relics that belonged to Kyogre and Groudon. There would always be thieves who would seek to use their power to their own ends. People like my father, she thought with shame.
At the bottom level of the temple stood hooded men and women in red. The priestess of Mt Pyre held her ground with a net ball in the palm of her hand, ready for battle with Team Magma.
To be continued...