The Meeting of Emotion and Willpower

Ever since the beginning of the universe, the fates of the ordinary inhabitants of the world had been closely entwined with those of the lake trio. Having given them their emotions, their knowledge and their willpower, they remained always watchful over the mortal beings, and –the gift of the Original One before She entered Her eternal sleep- were the only legendaries capable of bonding with the mortals, implanting a piece of their own soul within them to bless them with powers the like of which others could only dream of. In their turn, the everyday humans and Pokémon were constantly respectful and thankful towards the trio, ensuring that their children were told the tales of the horrific consequences of disturbing the three so that their lake homes remained peaceful, and that the shrines to them were always cleaned well and never wanted for gifts. The understanding between the higher and lower beings was deep and profound. Even the dark and light gods of the secluded region far to the north that once fought for the two brothers warring over the country could not boast of a closer bond.

As the years passed, gratitude to the trio only increased. Uxie's creation of the Granter of Wishes and the Guardian of Forests earned her much adoration, even as she retreated from the public eye to spend the rest of her existence meditating in a cave. Whenever a battle was fought and the warriors of justice seemed likely to lose, Azelf flew above them, shrieking war-cries at the foe, and victory would come quickly. Mesprit bestowed not only the powerful emotions upon his devotees, the all-consuming rage which enabled them to surpass their limits and the sorrow which spurred them on to revenge, but also calm, a simple peace which gave them the capability to endure any kind of torment. The gifts that the chosen mortals received were even greater: the ability to read minds, to understand any language, including that of different species, to fight for hours without feeling fatigued, to ignore pain to such an extent as to be able to destroy boulders with bare hands… The devotion became so great that those allied to a particular god began to live in camps, then to build huts, then larger shrines, then full-fledged temples, lined with statues of the object of their worship. Priesthoods sprung up, finding their recruits among the humans and Pokémon that wished to spend the rest of their lives serving their god, cleaning the temple, leading processions throughout the villages. Daily, incense was burned in front of the images of the deities and the statues adorned with garlands. Some legendaries began to look at the trio with envious eyes, wondering how they commanded the respect and love of whole nations despite appearing so feeble.

Occasionally, the gods they worshipped would make an appearance in front of them, a transparent, evanescent silhouette briefly appearing in front of them, its vague outline blurred by the sweet-smelling smoke rising from the temple braziers. A brief flash of colour would appear before the kneeling priests, ocean-blue, dawn-pink, or sun-yellow, before the shape vanished altogether. The devotees would press their foreheads to the floor and feel the fires of their faith stoked by the brief, momentary glimpse of their deity.

Eventually, the Custodian of Knowledge ceased to appear at her temples, claiming that to indulge the worshippers in this careless manner could lead them to the brink of insanity. Her followers became quieter, retreating to the sanctuaries they had built, but nonetheless continued to pray to her. By contrast, the Cult of Willpower and the Cult of Emotion became more fascinated by their gods with each day that passed. The inhabitants of the respective villages began to identify themselves with signs- first tattoos, a blue diamond on the forehead for the followers of Willpower and a pink oval on the collarbone for the devotees of Emotion, then metal sigils, hanging from chains around their necks, then robes of identical shade to their god's flesh. As the physical signs of their worship intensified, so too did the language they used in speaking of their beloved legendaries. It became common for Pokémon priests of the temple to venture into the woods and teach the woodland inhabitants of the superiority of their god, whilst their human counterparts gave the same sermon to the peoples of the village. As the certainty of the all-surpassing power of their respective legendaries grew for the two tribes, so too did their unshakeable belief in their own righteousness.

Squabbles began to break out between the two camps. At first, they quickly found excuses- infringements of borders, theft of water or crops, but these were soon abandoned in favour of sheer violence against the other cult, always invoking the name of the legendary as justification. Sympathising with the moods of their followers, the Master of Emotion and the Master of Will mirrored the conflict on the earth with similar battles in the heavens. Even in the Hall of Origin, where all fighting was forbidden lest it provoke the wrath of the Original One, the two continued their war in fierce debates and disagreements over the smallest detail, hurling abuse at one another as the other deities looked on in horror and disgust. More than one drew a fellow legendary aside after the council meetings and asked if they thought it wise to allow the duo to retain their positions.

Eventually, with her abhorrence of bloodshed making the quarrel intolerable at last, the Bringer of Dreams stepped between the two and demanded that they end their conflict quickly, before the mortals suffered any further through their hatred. She spoke of the endless disturbed nights that she sought to soothe with her comforting fantasies, and of the corpses to whom she could no longer provide any solace. The other legendaries stood behind her, threatening to end it themselves if they refused. With no choice, the two exchanged bitter looks and agreed to take part in single combat, to forever decide the future of the two clans.

Late that night, each appeared in front of the gathered cultists and delivered the news of the match. They would select the follower with the highest potential and bond with them, elevating their ability to new heights. The two would then join in combat against one another the following morning, and the victor, as well as claiming the opponent's life, would claim everything the defeated cult had to offer. The losing clan, whether it be Emotion or Willpower, would submit to the will of the triumphant one, and would be forced to eradicate every trace of the worship of their god or face death. They would be assimilated into the victor's clan, visibly no different from the true members, but for the fact they would remain constantly inferior, no better than slaves taken into the bosom of the clan and kept alive from pure pity. Both expressed outrage at the sad conclusion to which they had been driven, but reminded their followers of their confidence in them, and asked for volunteers to preserve the strength of the clan.

As the Master of Willpower concluded, one stepped up. A Lucario, muzzle scarred from many battles, powerfully muscled and well-respected among his comrades for his bravery, volunteered to join with the god he worshipped and crush the Emotion Cult's infamy. At this declaration, his fellow cultists let out a wild battle cry and beat loudly on the ground. Azelf accepted him, holding his spiked paw high in the air and calling to the tribespeople to face their champion as the cheers rang out into the black night.

Likewise, in the village of Emotion one young Gardevoir, ruby eyes shimmering with diamond tears, stood among her massed family and requested that she be permitted to avenge the wrongs the worshippers of Willpower had done to them. Over the assorted cries of sorrow, jubilation, and fury coming from her fellows, the Master of Emotion accepted her, telling her that no matter how the odds might seem stacked against them, the strength she carried within her heart would suffice.

Each combatant was taken aside into the depths of the woods that surrounded the two camps and there performed a ritual which they could never speak of to another living being. There, the soul of legendary and mortal came together, bound tightly to one another, and blended inextricably into a new form. There was no longer Mesprit, Master of Emotion: gone was Azelf, Master of Willpower. There was no longer Vacarlax, the noble Lucario: Syrina the loving Gardevoir had likewise vanished. There was only the Warrior and the Defender, the two foes that do battle through the aeons, present yet unseen throughout every war, and filled with hatred for the foe.

Morning rose fresh and beautiful, with clear skies and gold-tipped clouds, and the grass that would soon be blood-soaked was beaded with dew. In silence, the Warrior and the Defender walked out to the middle. The two exchanged cool, appraising looks, and, from the depths of the mind-prisons of the possessed, the entities that had once been Mesprit and Azelf felt the anticipation of the fight thrilling through their veins. Aura swirled around the Warrior's lightning-fast fists, whilst the subtle hands of the Defender were outlined in blue light.

The two stood, both unwilling to make the first move, and said nothing.

Suddenly, from between them, came an intense golden light that blinded both combatants, and a voice commanding them to cease. The demi-gods turned their heads to see an Absol, small and lacking in experience, but with the blank irises that marked it out as a creature bonded with a legendary. Behind the harsh, strident tones of the Absol's voice came the unmistakeable logic of the Guardian of Knowledge, and the two halted in their anger from sheer astonishment. This was the Scholar, the third figure in the neverending war, and it spoke of peace, of treaties, of the folly of solving a feud that had already brought so much violence by adding another body to the mass graves dug outside the fighting camps. It spoke of shame and repentance and purgatory, and ordered its siblings to separate and return the two mortals to their families. Furthermore, it demanded that the two tribes should never fight again, and that, as insurance to this end, each year the clans should exchange ten apprentices as a sign of goodwill.

Humiliated by the Scholar's words, Vacarlax and Syrina were released, and its every request was carried out to the letter. Each year, ten children of the Emotion village were sent to calm their hot tempers in the cool of the Willpower school of battling, and to apply their natural tolerance and sympathy to learning the skill of caring for the Pokémon partners that accompanied them to raise them to their maximum potential. Conversely, the Willpower children learned to soften their inherent hard hearts and to train their partners to help others, besides being taught the trick of befriending the wild Pokémon that roamed freely in the forests. Although both tribes are long since gone, the practices set in place by the exchange of apprentices remain very much in place, and are currently both considered to be among the most noble and respectable trades a youth may join.

I noticed that this idea fitted particularly well with the idea I had for the following chapter, that of the creation myth for the Mystery Dungeon world, and therefore chose to do this one first. The follow-up should show up eventually. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, namely A pokemon Kid, icefire24, and l0rdn1hilus, and for all the feedback and ideas you have given me- including the inspiration for this chapter.

By the way… I probably should have mentioned this before, but didn't due to the fact I am assuming at least a basic level of intelligence among the people who visit this site. If I owned Pokémon, I wouldn't have to look on Amazon for cut-price copies of Tracks of Light. Thank you for tolerating my stating the blatantly obvious. - Arcanus