Mt. Silver, 5:23 A.M.
I met the Champion quite by chance.
About two years after his disappearance, I had decided to scale Mt. Silver, for I had heard rumors of the peak being home to Arceus. Of course, I knew these rumors were false; even a rookie trainer knows that Arceus actually resides on Mt. Coronet, all the way out in Sinnoh.
This being said, I merely climbed that mountain to debunk a myth. Right?
It took half a month, a twisted ankle, countless bruises and abrasions, and the ever-present risk of hypothermia, but I had finally reached my destination. And I know by now you have at least this question hanging in your head: why did I really do it? Why didn't I just use Fly and go check the peak without all that added crap? Well, my answer may or not suffice: it was the call of adventure. You try defeating an entire criminal organization, catching over fourteen legendaries, and beating the Elite Four of two regions, then come tell me that sitting on your lazy rump gives you that same rush. If anything, I figured, I'd start losing that slacker flab I have going on.
Nothing could prepare me, however, for what awaited me at the end. I was correct; it was not Arceus, but there was a legend waiting there. And I certainly could never be braced enough for the condition he was in.
His body lay silently in the rocks and snow, still and unmoving. His long, shaggy black hair was fanned in frozen, beautiful contrast to his surroundings; specked with delicate white spots. The body was on its side, and his clothes were by far insufficient for Mt. Silver's unforgiving temper. I dare not describe his poor, red face and frostbitten, gloved hands.
I wondered if there was a way to help him, but first I knew to check if he was worth helping. I lifted the stranger up as best as I could in my own numb arms and held an attentive ear to his chest. My breath quickened at the sound of his barely beating heart. Faint, painful sounding as it was, he could still be saved.
Getting him down would be the easy part, I promised myself. I summoned my fire type, Ho-Oh. (I also had with me a Meganium, a Marill, an Ampharos, a Meowth, and a Squirtle, but Ho-Oh was my best bet warmth wise.) Hastily, I swapped out my dead Pokègear batteries and opened my Kanto map and phone apps. "Ethan," I panted to my childhood friend, "I'm at the peak of Mt. Silver."
"That's wonderful, Lyra! Anything worth reporting?" His voice was drowsy. I must have just woke him.
"There's a guy up here. Our age."
"Huh?"
"I don't know! I think he might be unconscious. Any way you can fly up here? I'll send you our location." I tapped a widget within the app. Ethan lives in New Bark Town, in Johto, but luckily it's not too terribly far away. "Ho-Oh," I whispered to the Rainbow Pokèmon, "Try to keep him warm." It pulled the stranger into its huge wing and cooed.
"Ly, why can't Ho-Oh fly you to a Pokècenter?"
"I twisted my ankle on the way. Barely made it up here, and that meant crawling." There was a sound of blankets rustling and his old, old bed squeaking.
"I'll do my best. Give me about forty minutes. It'd be faster, but I don't have time to get Pidgeot out of the PC."
"Thank you," I gratefully smile.
"Oh, and, Lyra?"
"Yeah?"
"Keep warm and stay off that ankle." The call was ended with a merry series of beeps.
I slipped under Ho-Oh's wing next to the guy, glad to notice it had been helping some. "Help is on the way," I quietly cheered, hoping he could hear. With that, I closed my eyes, not realizing how exhausted I was until sleep began to consume my every limb.