Author's notes:
I drew inspiration from the Meteor Falls as shown in Pokémon Emerald to portray the geography and indigenous gijinka populations for this part. This chapter, like the former, is also more descriptive than conversational, but I promise I will get the characters talking in the next installment.
The character Kouseikei and the gijinka (humanized) forms are my creations, but the Salamence species and Pokémon in general are all the property of Satoshi Tajiri.
…o0o…
Part I: Broken Wings
Chapter IV: The Wings of Shell
The shades of night had fallen deeply into the land. After sending the last visitor away from the vicinities of the shrine, the elderly priestess with her young charge keeping close by performed the mandatory nightly chant honoring the emergence of the stars. Lanterns at hand, they slowly walked the perimeter encircling the temple and its ponds and gardens, chanting the well-practiced lines. The streets were empty and reflected off the silver light which shone from the broad band of stars that had appeared to illuminate the ink-black darkness. The steady notes of the women's song sounded eerily amplified by the silence of their surroundings.
The priestess carried the main tune while the little girl sang the descant. As their footfalls echoed off the still night air, a passerby could have sworn that the stars hovering above the temple appeared to glow brighter, rivaling the sheen of a full moon as the ritual proceeded. The song was, after all, the most important of all the prayers that needed to be invoked every single day. The temple complex's sacred status in the eyes of Space was heavily reliant on the chant respecting the stars. The shimmering guardians of the night were among Palkia's most wondrous of creations, and her priestesses must harmonize with the invisible rhythms of the interstellar dance if they wanted to keep their privileged status as her sacred mediums.
The old woman and the little girl completed the circumference of the entire shrine before the last notes of the chant faded off to join the silence of the night. The stars in the sky resumed their gentle twinkling, and the older of the priestesses permitted the young initiate to take a good night's sleep. As the young lass obediently retired to her quarters, the old lady meanwhile ascended a hidden flight of steps to enter the most restricted area of the temple, which was the tower patterned after an unopened lotus bud. She had one final business to fulfill before she went to bed.
The topmost room of the temple was conspicuously bare of adornment compared to the rather elaborately furnished sanctuary which Kouseikei had entered earlier that day. However, what the tower chamber lacked in decoration, it made up in its mystical quality. The chamber was devoid of any windows, and the floor was actually a pool filled with a kind of blessed and sentient water, such that only a Water-type could cross. Even then, the Water-type had to be a consecrated priestess to the Goddess of Space. If such conditions were not met, the deceptively silent waters would encroach upon the hapless intruder and drown him under.
The old priestess took off her sandals and carefully stepped into the waters. The liquid appeared to solidify under her footsteps, enabling her to walk on the surface of the water with the offerings clutched in her arms. In evenly-measured steps, she walked towards the raised shell-and-coral pedestal at the heart of the chamber. Balanced on top of the pedestal was an empty marble basin wide enough for a person to step into.
She laid the packages entrusted to her by the young Salamence at the foot of the pedestal before she stood up to her full height. From the depths of her robes she took a small pinkish pearl wound with fragrant sandalwood beads and prayer tags. Placing the pearl between her fingers which were clasped in prayer, the priestess began to intone the Words of Summoning.
"May the great one who bridges the water beneath my feet and the spatial entities of the sky hear my prayer."
Ribbons of mist began to rise from water covering the floor of the room, driven upwards by a nonexistent wind.
"You, who set the planets into their heavenly orbits and gave the stars the rhythm to which they dance, hear my prayer."
The mist floated higher into the air. The waters began to shift, each wave assuming a silvery-white glow. The room's ceiling, which was made up of overlapping panels mimicking lotus petals, started to open up in preparation to receive the deity. The stars sparkled like precious jewels set on a dark canvas overhead.
"Palkia, Overseer of Space, I beseech you. Descend upon this sacred water, and grant us the privilege of your wisdom!"
In one swift motion, the priestess drew some of the water from the pool and swirled the shimmering torrent into the basin. At once, the starlight converged into a single ray which struck the center of the basin. The old woman closed her eyes tightly and shielded her face from the blinding brightness with her hands. After a few seconds, the water in the basin bubbled and rose, the clear formless liquid morphing into a more definite shape. The priestess blinked and lowered her hands from her eyes to behold the Space Goddess' radiant form standing over the holy basin, the hems of her robes just treading the surface of the water.
"Lady Palkia," the priestess said, bowing deeply before the deity.
Palkia motioned for the old woman to rise.
"It has been a while, Sazanami," the Spatial Overseer said kindly, addressing her priestess by name. "May I inquire for what reasons have I been summoned?"
The priestess Sazanami wasted no time retrieving the packages containing the exquisite cloth and unusual carvings from where they lay at the base of the pedestal. She presented the wing-like trinkets to Palkia first, and she was gladdened to see the Deity of Space look at the young Salamence's work with genuine interest, if not admiration. Didn't the old priestess tell the humble youth that Palkia will be very pleased with what he had to offer?
Sazanami then undid the knots of the other parcel. Reverently taking the robe out of its wrapping, she held it out to the Spatial Overseer, praying that it will pass the final test like the first gift.
Little did she know, it had already passed even before she had shown it to the goddess.
It took a lot of self-control for Palkia to hide her surprise at the unexpected return of her stolen robe. Careful to keep her facial expression neutral, she looked closely at the workmanship and patterns of the cloth to make sure that it was the same robe that disappeared when she bathed in the mountain spring. The embroidered lotuses which were her emblems... the stenciled bands of water ripples... she could deny it no more. Thanks to an anonymous person, the robe somehow managed to find its way back to her.
Sazanami misinterpreted Palkia's lack of response as a form of disapproval.
"I beg your forgiveness, my lady," the old woman said, touching her forehead to the bit of solid ground at the base of the pedestal. "My goddess has my word that I shall accept none other than the best from her devotees..."
Palkia snapped out of her thoughtful silence to quickly assure her priestess that all was fine.
"No, no. You misunderstood me, Sazanami, so I apologize for the fright I have caused you. Truly I tell you, I am extremely honored to receive such gracious gifts." As far as Palkia can see, Sazanami was unaware of the true value of the robe. Choosing her next words well, she continued, "If I may ask, from whom did these gifts come, especially the robe, so I can thank the generous souls personally?"
The elderly priestess stood up and explained, "Ah, Lady Palkia. Both gifts came from the same person! He claimed to have made the wings of shell, in fact."
This new bit of information baffled the goddess. She glanced at the wing trinkets nestling within the box of wood. Although she kept short on words, privately she was very impressed and intrigued by the beautiful carvings. Palkia was unsure of what they were made of, but they looked very much like mother-of-pearl to her. Perhaps it was mother-of-pearl; she hadn't seen a gemstone that could actually match the luster of her signature jewels as this one. However, the fact that the trinkets and her stolen robe were offered by the same person added a new mystery to the already enigmatic carvings.
"I asked the giver for his name so my lady will be able to do exactly as she said," Sazanami added apologetically, "but he courteously refused. He said that it was enough thanks for him that his offerings are safely given to your hands."
'So he didn't want me to find out,' Palkia thought. 'It's not as if I don't understand why, though.'
"I see," the Goddess of Space said with a bit of disappointment. "Very well, I will honor his wish and I will not inquire about him from you any longer. But Sazanami, should he come back, please do tell him that he has nothing to be afraid of me. I still wish to thank him, if he will only allow me that privilege."
Sazanami bowed to acknowledge the order.
"You have my word, Lady Palkia."
"Thank you, my loyal priestess. Now if there are other matters you need to tell me of..."
"Oh, this is all there is, my lady. I hope you didn't find your visit a waste of your time."
"Don't think too much about it." Palkia winked as she said her next sentence. "After all, Time is my younger brother. I shall return to my father's palace now, if I may."
Sazanami could not help but smile at the way her lady referenced Dialga. Palkia had always wanted her priestesses to feel at ease in her presence even though her rank as Arceus' daughter dictated strict formality on the part of her mortal subordinates.
"You may leave when you wish, Lady Palkia," the old lady said. She was halfway through her bow when she suddenly remembered one thing. "Oh, a thousand apologies, ma'am! There is one thing my goddess needs to know before she goes."
Palkia gave the priestess her undivided attention.
"Please do tell me, Sazanami."
A frown creased Sazanami's face slightly as she said, "The man who offered the wings of shell and the wondrous cloth to my lady... he did have one request. It would be to tell the Lady of Space these words: 'I am genuinely sorry for what I've done.'"
Palkia tilted her head to the side, pondering on Sazanami's words.
"He said that he's... genuinely sorry for what he's done?"
The old priestess shrugged, every bit as confused as she looked.
"He didn't say any more, Lady Palkia. I couldn't get an explanation for his words, so I had to let him leave. Forgive me for not being of much help."
"You have done enough. Even more than I expected, I must say. I guess we should just let this matter rest, considering the man's reluctance at revealing his identity. Thank you once again for delivering his gifts to me."
Her priestess gave her final bow of salutation, and Palkia let her form melt back into the sacred water that was used to manifest her corporeal body. The ceiling of the temple tower closed once more into a dormant lotus bud, and her duty fulfilled, Sazanami left the room and walked to her own chambers where sleep beckoned.
…o0o…
Palkia's eyes blinked open. Prior to hearing the call of one of her satellite priestesses, the Space Dragoness was gazing up at the expanse of her creation from the surface of her lotus pond in Arceus' domain. The nebulae and galaxies always shone clear and beautiful in the skies of the Original One's palace, in a manner by which they could never be seen or appreciated from any place on earth. The pond and the aquatic plants populating it were not of the ordinary sort either. Pockets of light shone out of the heart of the blossoms that were open, while those that were still budding acted as living lamps. Like the stars as seen from the earth, they only gave off their light at nighttime.
Sighing gratefully to be home again, the Goddess of Space sat up, her hair and body untouched by dampness despite having lain on water the entire time. The friendly water and her own lotus plants kept her supine body afloat whilst her spirit traveled to respond to the summons of the priestess Sazanami. Palkia had spoken to the old priestess by manipulating the temple water to take the Space Goddess' own form, but her true body remained in her home dimension.
She cradled the cloth of the gods and the box of wing carvings in her arms, occupied with thoughts of the mysterious man described by Sazanami. Whoever he was, there was a great chance that he was the same person who made her robe disappear in the spring. Her own priestess had given strong proof about it when she told Palkia of his final message: he's genuinely sorry for what he's done.
What did he do?
Stealing the Space Dragoness' clothes while she bathed, perhaps?
Palkia refused to brand him as guilty until she had gotten the actual confession in person. Not that it made a difference, anyway. Now that her robes were back in her hands, Palkia was more than eager to forgive and forget him, along with the incident they shared. But there was the matter of his second gift, the wings of shell. Did he ever think that the Deity of Space will be so impressed with his work that she will go out of her way to thank him for it?
Did he ever expect that for the same reason, she will be willing to pass over the fact that he made her experience one of the most embarrassing scenarios in her life?
'If he was the culprit, that is,' Palkia concluded in her mind as she stood up. It was well into the night, and even the deities needed their rest. The lotus plants bade their mistress goodnight, setting off a cloud of vapors that looked like liquid light on her path as she walked to leave their midst.
…o0o…
Akigara had entrusted the guild to Kouseikei for the day. The new master explained to the other Salamence that he had to go to an important meeting with other head artisans from the nearby clans of Solrock and Lunatone, and Akigara needed Kouseikei's adept skills to manage the place while he was gone.
"I hope to enlist their help in procuring more of the dragon-scale stone that we specialize in," Akigara told Kouseikei before he left. "It's becoming extremely difficult to find them these days, and you know how Rock-types like the Solrock and the Lunatone have an unusual form of communication with the mountains. I trust that you'll be able to keep the apprentices from slacking off in my absence."
Kouseikei agreed to Akigara's request even though he didn't feel like he was in the right shape to be the stand-in for the Head Stonecarver at that moment. Not that he had much of a choice. He was subordinate to Akigara, and Kouseikei could not risk further hurting his already damaged reputation by obstinately resisting Gyokuei's replacement.
Thankfully, the Stonecarvers only had a handful of apprentices in their care, comprising of four Bagons and one Shelgon. Although Kouseikei's repute preceded him, the apprentices somehow made an effort to conceal their scorn at being headed by a flightless Salamence. Wing-less or not, Kouseikei was still counted among the fully-evolved members of the clan, and from birth Bagons and Shelgons have been taught to show steadfast obedience to a Salamence.
Kouseikei let the apprentices off for the noontime meal after spending the morning drilling them on the correct way to cut the dragon-scale stone. Their stone of specialty was notoriously soft for a gemstone, and great care had to be taken such that the carver did not go against the stone's natural crystalline structure and cause the sample to fracture. Kouseikei himself was guilty of ruining several perfectly fine dragon-scale stones as an apprentice due to a misplaced angle of the blade. Kouseikei had been so mad at himself, but Gyokuei comforted the then-Shelgon, explaining that a Stonecarver's apprenticeship was never complete without breaking a stone due to inexperience.
'I may not have destroyed a gemstone since then, but I certainly have ruined my life ever since that incident after the evolution ceremony…'
The young Salamence sighed and massaged his temples with his fingers. He sat on a stool, leaning against the teaching table to get a few minutes of rest. As a medium of instruction, the table had a removable glass covering at the top to protect the layer of sand on which diagrams and figures could be scribed for the benefit of apprentices' eyes. At the moment, the sand was etched with nothing but a latticed figure illustrating the crystal structure of dragon-scale stone. Kouseikei smoothed the sand back into its blank state with the flat side of his knife. The young dragon sat gazing blankly at a nearby shelf housing some carving tools that had grown rusty with disuse or disrepair, unconsciously tracing patterns on the sand with his fingertips.
He was no Psychic, but he wondered if his eyes were looking into his own future.
Kouseikei decided that it was time to go to the common dining hall, even if his lateness meant that he was lucky if there was still a satisfying meal to be had at all. Ah well, he wasn't that hungry anyway. As he placed the flat side of his blade once more against the sand to smooth it out, he almost dropped the knife in shock.
Without even knowing it, he had drawn the figure of a young woman flying among the clouds without the help of wings… a lady with long hair that hung freely behind her… a beauty whose arms were adorned by a pair of bangles, each bearing a priceless pearl.
Upon regaining his senses, Kouseikei quickly and furiously swept at the sand to erase the image, scattering some grains on the floor in the process. What could he be thinking, drawing Palkia out of the blue?
'I must really be hungry,' the Salamence thought to himself, sheathing the knife and walking out of the chamber, thankful that no one else was there to see him in his state of bewilderment.
…o0o…
The same morning that saw Kouseikei assume the post of Head Stonecarver for a day came upon another figure draped in the layers of white mantle cascading from her broad traveling hat of woven river reeds. As she journeyed from one Water-type tribe to another to request for an audience with their artisans, one can catch glimpses of the actual garb she wore beneath the pale curtains. Her blouse consisted of two layers, the inner one a deeper shade of violet than the outer, but she kept them tucked inside her pleated gray trousers which could have passed for a full-length skirt from afar. Over this ensemble she wore a pale purple overcoat that reached her knees, and was decorated on the sleeves and shoulders with a weave featuring a pattern recurring in the crafts of Dragon-type clans, notably among the Kingdra.
It initially felt strange to don the outfit of her priestesses, but Palkia knew that the disguise of a sacred medium doing field work was her best choice at the moment. She had left home early after consulting Uxie regarding the communities of Water-types that took abode near the Space Deity's satellite temple which lay in Sazanami's care. Her younger sister had named off three clans: the Gyarados, the Seaking, and the Whiscash. Although she was unsure, Palkia assumed that the carvings given to her the previous night were most likely the work of a Water-type artisan. They, after all, had good knowledge of the mother-of-pearl that the trinkets seem to be made of. Palkia hoped to find the maker of the wings of shell, or at least a clue to lead her to him, among those who shared her primary typing with her.
She did not tell Dialga of her plans, for the Time Deity was still quite furious about the incident in the spring. If the mysterious source of the trinkets and the thief of her clothes were but one and the same, Palkia didn't put it past her brother to try to slit the throat of the poor mortal before she could get so much a word exchanged with him, whoever he may be.
Her search proved to be far more difficult than she anticipated. Palkia consulted the Seaking first because they were the easiest to reach of the three clans, their village being located near her temple that she visited the night before. When she entered their community, Palkia introduced herself as one of her priestesses to keep her anonymity. The Water-types received her amiably, but none of the Seaking or Goldeen claimed original ownership of the trinkets she possessed. Each possible candidate showed reliable honesty, and Palkia found no reason to doubt them.
The chief of the Seaking artisans further added to her worries that their tribe did not conceal the person she was eagerly searching for. After requesting for Palkia's permission to inspect the trinkets himself, the Water-type had remarked, "Great workmanship on those shells, my lady, and quite graceful. They are, however, vastly different from our standards of grace. In fact, if that would be the sole basis of my judgment, I'd say its maker may not be a Water-type at all."
Undaunted, Palkia then sought the artisans of the Whiscash. They lived on a difficult-to-navigate portion of the same river that also sustained the Seaking, but the difference was that the place of the Whiscash was almost always impassable due to its wealth of mud. She did not progress any further with finding the maker of the trinkets among them, but when an apprentice stonemason got into an argument with the master of the trade over the composition of the carvings, a new twist in the mystery opened up a new wave of possibilities.
"I tell you, master, that's not mother-of-pearl!" the young Barboach on the verge of evolving had challenged the quick-tempered Whiscash that was their leader.
"What proof do you have, young Whiskers, for you to say such a thing?" the old Whiscash countered.
"It has the sheen, all right, but something's not right. The indications are hard to make out, but I'm not backing out from my belief that it's actually a stone of some sort!"
The master and the adamant apprentice continued to argue in technical terms that were incomprehensible to Palkia, and she had to politely excuse herself to continue her journey. What the Barboach had declared was quite radical, but Palkia noted it in her mind should the information come out as useful in the future. Her last stop, among the Gyarados, brought her perhaps the most promising lead she discovered that day.
It took Palkia more time to reach the realm of the Gyarados without utilizing her space-controlling abilities. The branch of the clan living in that region took abode among the violent rapids hidden deep in the valleys of the mountains. The Spatial Overseer didn't expect the Atrocious Ones to be so accommodating to her in her search, but they surpassed her expectations. Upon learning that a priestess to the Goddess of Space was requesting for assistance, the leaders immediately introduced her to the person in their tribe who was knowledgeable in such matters. The male Gyarados welcomed her kindly, and after a while of studying the wings of shell, he brought her attention to the motif of the carvings.
"The wing motif, my lady, has never been very popular among us who live in the waters despite our partial Flying-typing," the warlike Water-type had explained. "Although the odds may seem small, I suggest that you seek out those who take abode in the nearby mountains -- the Salamence clan. They are immensely proud of their mastery over the art of flight, and as such the images of wings are recurrent in their crafts. A Water-type like you will have no trouble reaching where they gather. Just follow the river further upstream until you reach a thundering waterfall. From the top of that waterfall you'll be able to see their stronghold from afar, and there are roads that could take you to your destination from that point."
At that mention of the Salamence, another Gyarados decided to enter the conversation.
"Ha, the Salamence!" the newcomer said with a derisive laugh."Those arrogant flying salamanders scorn us. We're just Flying-types in name, they say. Or worse, that we assume too much if we want to be numbered among the Dragons! Hmph, as far as we know, our tribe has a far wider reach of influence than them!"
He must have seen read the shocked expression on Palkia's face, because he immediately attempted to diffuse the situation.
"I beg your pardon for my rant, my lady," he said a lot more calmly. "Even a Gyarados has to admit that a Salamence is a worthy rival when it comes to ferocity in battle. We have had a scattering of clashes in the past, and our seasoned warriors found the Sky Dragons impressive in combat. They're a formidable force to be reckoned with, indeed."
'The Salamence…' Palkia's thoughts repeated the name of the new potential source of the wing carvings. She surveyed the mountains that her advisor among the Gyarados had directed her to, where he said the warlike dragons could be found. 'Could he be…?'
It was then that she remembered… she did hear the sound of wings prior to her discovery of the theft when she bathed. Were they the wings of a Salamence? Could the artisan of the wings of shell be a Sky Dragon? There was only one way to find out.
After thanking the Gyarados for their generosity, Palkia readjusted the drapes on her hat and went on her way.
