One hand wrapped around the small tube of ointment a nurse gave me to help with the bruising. The other cradling a bag of ice against my eye. Sitting alone at a spacious table and looking pathetic as I wait out the dull, yet persistent pain. This is how the two find me as they enter the dining hall meant for competitors and their companions.
Flora's hands fly over her mouth when she sees me and I wince. Not from pain this time, but from the embarrassment of being seen like this. I've had worse injuries and the last thing I want is a pity party. Before either of them can say I word, I speak, "How'd your match go, Roger?" I gesture for the two to have a seat.
He sits in front of me while Flora sits by my side, but his eyes never turn away from my wound. "Better than expected," he says with a grin, "I actually made it too the next round. But, to be honest, I think it was Medicham who did most of the work for us both…" He scratches the back of his head and seems to be debating his next words, "…And… yours, Lira?"
I smile brightly, all teeth showing even as I lower the bag of ice so they can get a good look. Flora takes a sharp breath when she sees me and I can't blame her; I probably am a mess right now. "I won," I say proudly. I'm not trying to seem arrogant, but I want to let them know I'm not some pretty pansy who can't handle her own battles. I guess it's just the Fighting-type in me to hate looking weak, even if it is just in front of friends. "You expected anything less?" Flora snorts and Roger rolls his eyes, but the relief I sense from them is what's more than enough to reassure me that they won't feel the need to pity me any longer. And as I also sense no feeling of disgust or agitation; my comment didn't push them away either.
"Guess not, the way you kicked my butt," Roger replies. "Medicham's sure tired though. I put her back in her Pokeball and Nurse Joy has got a hold of it. Thanks again for the advice, by the way. It really helped."
"No problem." With a fork, I poke at the meal I was given by one of the volunteers: a bowl of a light salad along with a triangular piece of bread covered in some sort of red sauce, cheese, and vegetables. It looks weird and I haven't tried it yet, but at least it smells good. Pricking a mushroom off of it with the utensil, dripping red, I tentatively put it in my mouth, uncertain of the taste at first, but soon finding the taste pretty satisfying.
"What? Is the pizza hot?" Flora picks up her own slice of the same dish with both hands and takes a bite from the tip. Grinning brightly, she continues, "Nope! It's great!" Huh… Guess it's supposed to be a finger food then…
I glance down at her piece to see the only topping it has is the melted cheese and quickly find a cover-up for my mistake. "I just wasn't sure about this type." This time, I do as she does, setting the fork in my bowl.
"You're eating like a Buneary," Roger teases.
Flora looks over to me, a spark in her eyes, "Hey, Lira, since we're all done for the day, how about you and I take a look around and do some shopping? I saw some really cute Pokedolls at this one stall and there's so much to explore. There's also a pool and a hot tub at the hotel we could go to later tonight!"
If only I could be that carefree. I wonder if that's what it's like to be a regular girl: no worries and no saving the day, just hanging out and having enjoying life. "That sounds great, but I actually need to find a library if I can. There are some things I need to research before I set out again after all of this is over."
"Let me check my Pokenav." She tugs free some strange device off of her waist and begins to fiddle with its controls. After a few minutes, she looks up from her work. "You're in luck! It says there's one only a couple blocks away, down Pecha Avenue. I'm sure you can find it by asking around and looking at the directories."
That sounds like a map, but since I don't exactly know what a directory is, I think I'll just stick with the latter. "Thanks!"
A new hope lights up within my heart. I return to my meal to finish it in a rush. Maybe, just maybe, I can finally get to the bottom of this whole guardian stuff! I need some sort of explanation to all of this, and now I finally have a chance to figure something out. There has to be something there, something to tell me what I am and why everything's happened like it has; I just know it!
I don't even realize it until I'm out of the convention center, but I'm running- no, flying- down the streets. Running on the balls of my feet, dashing through the people carrying out there busy lives as I pass them by with a wide smile and a racing heart.
I'm so impatient and excited that I nearly forget to ask where I'm going…
…
Hours and hours into the search, even carrying into nightfall, and I'm hardly anywhere. But those hours are worth it. They're worth everything. Through the mass of files and novels and documentaries I've read, I've found one, only one, book relevant to my constant investigation. And when I move over to a table to sit down and examine it, I hold it tightly to my chest, as if it were the key to my salvation.
It's old, very old I think, and was buried in a stack of books actually meant to be thrown out soon. The pages, given a golden tint by time, with torn edges and some slipping from the cover's bonds, smell of must and ink. And the hard cover itself has also faced much wear, scraped and scratched with the words so very faded. I bear it with such care, as if it would turn to dust in my grasp.
"Dialga, Palkia, and Girantina," I read in a low, relieved whisper, "The Legendary Clash and the Darkness of a Thousand Years…" If it weren't for just that one word, 'darkness', I very likely would have passed this one up. And that fact that Dialga is mentioned helps a little too.
When I first begin reading, it tells briefly of the legend of the world's birth. Of Arceus and the other legendary Pokemon that appeared and created the land. Of a great war between them in search of power and dominance over the planet, until it was decided that each would claim a territory of the world for their own and be made a guardian to the lesser creatures brought into this world. Within their territories in Unova, for instance, Reshiram would be a Guardian of Truth while Zekrom would be a Guardian of Ideals. All swore to serve and protect the people and Pokemon of the world, and together would stabilize the delicate balance of the universe.
However, the different abilities and mindsets of the legendaries often still brought them to the heat of conflict. Conflicts which always lead to devastation for the planet, and could rarely be stopped or intervened by their fellow legendaries without further destruction that would mean an end to all life.
'…Though Girantina now guarded another realm,' it reads, 'the titans of Time and Space still fought and the War of Creation continued. As Dialga raged war, time forever stopped. The sun would not rise. The wind would not blow. The flowers would not blossom nor would the trees bear fruit. As Palkia raged war, the land was ripped apart. Whole regions floated endlessly in a void, drifting in a darkness unknown to them. Direction was lost, and there was no way other than the random paths set and remade in continuous change. Rock and debris flew about as mountains were reduced to rubble, rubble to craters, and craters to mountains within moments. Time had frozen still and Space had distorted into an unrelenting chaos. The world that we knew was dying, and as it died the minds of the Guardians of Time and Space spiraled into madness, becoming shadows of their former selves with only darkness in their hearts as black as the world itself had become. Their hatred began their destruction and the world's, and all those that opposed them were vanquished.
'…Yet in this darkness and loss of hope, in the imprisonment that had become of life, a single beam of light was born, and in that of the most unlikeliest of creatures ever spawned from the world; a human. A small babe who had cried at first breath and laughed the next. Who wept at the pain of others and smiled upon the birth of joy. Despite all the terrors that had been brought upon the age, the youth remained as sprightful and innocent as a new dawn itself.
'…Yet only one could see the hidden strength veiled behind such frailty: the King of all Pokemon and Father to the Creation Trio. He had forewarned his children of such a creature that would purge the darkness and expel their evil from the world; only one had taken heed. The remaining duo of Time and Space ignored their elder's words of caution until the young savior's forthcoming had long since passed, and the savior was soon to fulfill his duty to all life.
'How fearful they were of such an unassuming harbor of their peril; they dared not to attack at risk of meeting the cold hands death. But the two were deceitful and cunning. In the name of survival, they duo found themselves in a loose alliance with one another. The child, in his naivety, was unaware of the danger he was so precariously placed in. And in their unawareness of the child's true strength, the duo sought not the child's own destruction, but in his corruption- to be tainted as all other souls had in the cruel world. A death of spirit, more painful than any amount of blood drawn by a blade.
'The Guardian of Time was the first to act. To reap the child's heart of light, he devilled with the greed of man, to turn a pure one selfish and cold. He approached the child with such kindness to hide his wrath bubbling within, and with a smile offered treasures and gifts beyond the heart's desire. He promised the child toys and games and riches. He promised the child a lavish home, warm and comforting, finer than any palace made by mortals. He promised the child a future without hunger, pain, or death; for his form to be frozen in time and never age another day. All this and more would all be his if he only gave in. And when he child still hesitated, he gave the youth a golden ring embedded with the most beautiful of gems as a sign of goodwill before parting to a hidden location to watch the trap he had so carefully placed snap shut.
'Yet not long after, the child met another youth, further down in luck than he, and how is heart at ached at the sight of such misery. To him he gave the ring, and called upon the Guardian to help the latter in their need, so much greater than his own. And in Dialga's anger that he could not fool the youth, he fled in great dismay.
'And with a laugh at his adversary's failure, the Guardian of Space took his turn. He sought not to bribe the youth, but awaken a bitter hatred born from despair. For if the child could not be taken by greed, then let torment and suffering rip apart his soul and snuff out the persistent, burning light. He destroyed all that the child had once called home. He destroyed all that the child cherished and dreamed. He destroyed all those that the child loved. Famine, hurt, disease, death, all followed the youth, none of which he could prevent and was made to endure if not watch in the sorrow of others. And on the day well all seemed lost, the Guardian approached the child to promise freedom from his misery if he only gave in.
'Yet the child remained ever faithful to the goodness still left in the world, in the wonder and beauty of life and all its miracles. It was only in his nature to dismiss the offer of the Guardian, the light within so very faint, but still very much aglow, the belief in a better tomorrow held onto so dearly. And in Palkia's anger, he put an end to the light by ending the breath of the innocent youth.
'… And yet the war did not resume. The duo was left with a sudden emptiness within the darkness of their hearts, a grief they had never before found themselves capable of feeling: Guilt. For though the child had lost so much, he had still won. He had fulfilled his duty, though it came with so much sacrifice. For a child that had remained for hopeful and full of life and light in such darkness could only touch the hearts of the tainted, and purify the sickness wrought by hatred. Only then were their minds and visions clear to the shadows that haunted the world, all caused by their rage. The two would turn to one another in a dismal, sorrowful cry, "What have we done?"
'…To undo all that they had done and right their wrongs, they used their powers of warping time and space to return the world as it once had been. To restore time in its careful flow. To restore space in its delicate motion. To restore day and night, and restore the lives that they had destroyed.
'…Though the tad bit of loathing still lingered, they swore ne'er to bring their battle to the world again, and in truce parted ways within the boundaries of their own realms to guard the planet from afar, the last remnant of the War of Creation the child himself, given the title of the Guardian of Light and a gift that would mean the salvation of the world should the darkness ever return.'
The Dimensional Scream! I nearly let out a cry of exhilaration upon the discovery. At last, some of my questions can be answered! According to the book, there isn't much knowledge in its use beyond what I've done so far, which is coming into contact with an object and getting some sort of vision. However, in time the ability can be mastered so that the visions do not affect the person using it in real-time, meaning no more headaches and I'll be able to focus on what's going on around me while the vision happens. I guess it all comes with practice, but I'm more than willing at this point, though I doubt what I experience now is entirely the Dimensional Scream at work, but my own memories returning.
Everything is right here, as if told in prophecy. All except for my turning into a Pokemon anyway; I suppose they had nothing to account for that variable. But even what is listed here is more than I've ever known. It a sense, it even talks about Ri, Grovyle… all of us who were a part of stopping the planet's paralysis.
'… And from the fire and ash shall rise the chosen ones to protect the morn.
'The light of dawn shall strengthen he who wields the power of the Dimensional Scream, free from the boundaries of time and space; the one to guard the world's hope and light the way in its bleakest hours. The sword of dawn to strike the night and lift the sun. The chosen one to strike against all evils and lead the people to the brighter day.
'The light of dawn shall strengthen he who possesses the key to travel through the realms, free from the invisible walls that hide home of the Trio from our own. A hero pure of heart to lift the shield of morning light and shun the darkness in protection of the good and gentle. The chosen one to defend and protect all innocence born in this world.
'The light of dawn shall strength he who acts as mentor and knight to the sword of dawn, for a weapon without a guide to sharpen its blade and direct friend from foe is without good use. A knight of strength and determination, guarding his allies and pointing them their path, always at ready, ever attentive, ever compassionate. The torch ever burning, even while trapped in the confinements of hardship, cruelty, and loss.
'The light of dawn shall strengthen he who smiles at adversity and sings the song of life in death. A ray ne'er touched or tainted by darkness, to act as sage and seer. To heal those that no one dared to cure and rid of the world of its scars. The song with lift away the sorrows of mortals, and the ray will shine through the fog that blinded the minds of mortals.
'The light of dawn shall strengthen he who dares to cross the border into evil. He who has danced in death, pain, and betrayal, who has felt guilt in all his wrong doings and at last has opened his arms toward the light of dawn. He who has been tainted, but will be someday cleansed. And in cleansing will redeem themselves. The eye will guide our heroes through the cruelties caused by that which all but he can understand and see the dangers lurking behind lies and deceit where the innocent cannot see.
'The Sword, the Shield, the Torch, the Song, the Eye will be chosen anew. The Guardians of Light will be chosen anew.
The next shows an image of two creatures I can't recognize, and both are merely silhouettes: One with smooth, sharp edges and something that appears to be a sort of crown upon its beaked head, and another that seems almost hooded, wavy and mysterious in physique.
And only have time to see one word- nightmare- before I am startled by a cold hand resting against my shoulder. It's getting very late now, so it's probably the librarian telling me I need to go, or Roger or Flora coming to find me after being gone so long. I turn around, an apology already on my lips.
And I black out.
When I waken, scared and shivering, the last thing I can remember in a single, icy eye staring at me. Tormenting me with its frigid stare. My body feeling as cold as the glare itself, stiff with fright. And the moment the stare vanished a feeling of such foreboding, terror, and dread passed through me, I feel as though I would die should that touch return once more.
Rarely have I ever been terrorized, but whatever happened, I want no repeat of. I stand, ready to check out the book and go, but something else freezes me in place and shakes me more than any of my nightmares.
The page that I had just been reading has been torn away.
