POV: Cynthia/ LOCATION: Celestic Town
But first, a detour to a town in the middle of nowhere. We can't barge into unknown territory without proper equipment first, can we?
Celestic Town hasn't changed since the creation of Mt. Coronet. Literally. Still the same wooden houses whereas the rest of Sinnoh has transitioned to brick and mortar. I think we're the only place that still has milk delivered to each house in shiny glass bottles.
In my grandma's cabin, I gather the necessary Reviver Seeds and Oran Berries and am about to dash off when she smacks me with her fan.
"It's always vroom vroom with you, huh?" she says.
I gingerly rub the bump on my head. Ouch. "I'm busy! I need to go to Foggy Forest!"
The shades slide off Grandma's nose.
"F-Foggy Forest?!"
Her tone is enough to make me stop cold. It's not often Grandma drops her voice. Usually you can hear her from the other side of Mt. Coronet.
"Yeah," I say slowly. "You've… heard of it, Grandma?"
"Heard of it? Who hasn't?!"
"Me. And everyone else my age."
Grandma tosses my ass down on a nearby chair. Grabbing a fresh bottle of Moomoo Milk, she sits down, plants her tiny legs on the table, and appraises me with a frown.
"There exists a rumor," she begins, "when I was your age. Granted, I was the prettiest in the town. My Moomoo Milk brought all the boys to the lawn—"
"Grandma."
"Fine. Anyway, parents forbade their children from wandering into Foggy Forest. They believed that a terrible curse dwelled in the depths of the fog."
I scoff. Shift in my seat. "There's no such thing as curses, Grandma. Back then, people feared what wasn't understood—"
The fan smacks my chin.
"Have you forgotten that magic and reality exist side-by-side in Sinnoh? Who do you think built the ancient mural? The statue in Eterna City?"
"Aliens."
That earns me a wallop to the skull.
"Do not underestimate our ancestors," Grandma murmurs. "Whatever that lies within Foggy Forest is far beyond our realm of understanding. Those baseless rumors about a secret treasure only poured more coal to the fire—"
I shoot up in my chair. And Grandma exhales a low, "Fuuuuuu…"
"Treasure!" I gasp. "What kind of treasure? How come no one told me about this?!"
"Sit down! At the core of all rumors is hot air." She then rolls her tongue around in her mouth. Marinates in her thoughts. "Buuuut… the treasure is said to be exceedingly rare. A discovery of a lifetime."
That settles it! To Foggy Forest for both treasure and… whatever I'm supposed to find!
"The curse!" screams Grandma.
Oh yeah. There's that little caveat. "But curses aren't real."
Grandma shrugs. "Here in Celestic Town a long, long time ago, we had a boy who supposedly sought the treasure of Foggy Forest. When he returned… he had become an old man. Not a day had passed, but he had aged 60 years. And the worst part was, he couldn't remember anything about his life: his parents, his friends, his home… nothing."
I stare at my grandma, who nonchalantly sips her Moomoo Milk. The clouds pass by outside the window, blocking the sun and casting the world in temporary darkness.
Grandma then sets her glass down. "It is said that whoever seeks out the treasure of Foggy Forest will not return in one piece. Something will be stolen, be it time or memories. There's an ancient evil about that place, Cynthia."
For once, I am rendered speechless. This sounds like the cautionary tales at Canalave Library. A place that steals time? Wipes away memories?
Memories…
A place that steals memories…
Grandma slams her fist on the table, startling me out of my thoughts. "B-U-T! You won't listen to anything I say, so break a leg, hahaha! Most stories were created to scare children into misbehaving. But you're NOT a child anymore!"
While I struggle to wrap my head around Grandma's sudden change in attitude, she yanks me by the ear out to the wet and muddy grass. A cold wind whistles through the empty town. Most of the older inhabitants have long gone inside.
Grandma waves a hand around the dewy landscape. "What do you see, Cynthia?"
"Celestic Town?"
"Still blind to what lies right before your eyes. Look again."
Always with the riddles. I roll my eyes… then I see it.
Craters. Cracked earth, fallen trees, caved-in mountain faces. The ground is punctured like swiss cheese. Meteors no smaller than a mansion have scorched the ground, leaving a nasty scar behind.
"That's your doing!" Grandma says cheerfully. "You! And your Draco Meteor!"
I scowl. "I had to use it, Grandma! Cyrus was about to get his hands on our secrets—"
"You! Hadn't! Mastered it yet!" Each word is emphasized by a fan impaling the damp earth. "Yet you foolishly let your rage blind you!"
"But Cyrus was toying with me! You saw how he effortlessly broke into our sacred place! Next time, I'll use that Move perfectly!"
Grandma blinks. Then she laughs. It's a loud, shrill cackle that shakes her saggy cheeks.
"Perfectly?" she snarls. "You think wearing a fancy title excuses your reckless behavior? Ooh, look at me! I'm the Champion of Sinnoh! I have a Garchomp, one of the hardest Pokemon to raise! There's Cyrus! Let me blast him with Draco Meteor! Let me blast anything I don't like with Draco Meteor!"
"Grandma!" I yell, heat rising to my face. "I'm not like that!"
"Oh yeah? Then when have you used Draco Meteor? When something doesn't go your way, right?"
She takes my angry silence as affirmation.
"Delusions of grandeur," Grandma mutters, "are most dangerous when they aren't acknowledged. Same with delusions of invincibility. The next thing you know, you've hurt someone precious to you. Once a vase is broken, it is impossible to put it back to how it once was."
Those solemn words lingering in my ears, I cast my gaze to the ancient mural. Tarp covers the shattered stone walls. A lattice of cracks mars the crude chalk drawing. The grass that sprawls across the entrance has been charred to a dead grey.
"I know all this," I grunt. "But I only used Draco Meteor as a last resort."
Grandma says nothing. We shuffle back to the house in silence, where I finish packing my gear.
That's when Grandma dumps out a battered cardboard box of… junk.
"Your crap," she huffs. "After Rowan gave you a Pokedex, you peaced out and left his lovely old woman to your trash."
I scoff, a smirk tugging at my lips. "It's not trash. It's just a bunch of souvenirs I no longer need."
Inside that box are trinkets from days bygone. They still smell like saltwater. There's my old phone, the one held together by duct tape. An empty Soda Pop bottle filled with tarnished sand. Coins engraved with the palm trees of Sunyshore that tourists would lob into the beach, their golden sheen now stripped of veneer.
"I'm cleaning up the attic," Grandma grumbles. "Take what you want and throw out the rest."
"I'm not a kid anymore. You can dump everything out—"
And I stop cold. It might sound crazy, but I heard something call my name. A disembodied warble that appears to be originating from the bottom of the box.
Slowly, I reach into the junk and pull out a… stone? A rather large one that fits in my palm. Smooth. Round. White.
Like the moon.
On the surface lies a peculiar inscription: a compass with wings whose ink shimmers an iridescent green.
Suddenly, gooseflesh explodes down my back. "What is this?" I whisper.
"Looks like trash to me."
Deep in my heart, I know that it's not trash. It's… warm. Precious? A treasure? Where have I…
Oh. I found it on the beach when I used to visit Sunyshore as a child. Every summer until I left to pursue the title of Pokemon Champion. As a child, I was infatuated with being an explorer like my dad. Memory manifests as the strong smell of salinity and sweet coconuts.
"The White Moonstone," I blurt.
"Eh? Moonstones aren't white."
They're not, but I named this the White Moonstone because it resembled just that.
But… I feel like I'm missing something. Something important…
Didn't this come in a set?
It is Grandma's yelling that snaps me out of my reverie.
"The compass is glowing!"
Indeed, it is. And it's spinning. As if this stone is alive. With hammering heart, I stare as the needle cranks, as it drags across the smooth surface… until it stops.
The needle is pointing directly at me.
Grandma whistles. "Looks like you bought yourself a tracking device. That would've been useful to so many people when you decide to vanish off the face of the earth."
The rest of her unnecessary musing fails to register in my head. Right now, I am wholly absorbed in studying this… toy? Relic? It radiates an unnatural energy, one unlike anything I've ever seen before.
No…
I have felt this chill. At Treeshroud Forest. At Mystifying Forest. At Crystal Lake.
"—lots of crap to clean up," Grandma is saying. "You'd best leave right now if you want to make it back before nightfall. Good luck with the curse, Miss Champion!"
And the next thing I know, my dear grandma has kicked me out of the house. Fair enough.
I drift to the edge of town, still in a daze. Why do I feel so… empty?
Suddenly, the White Moonstone blinks. The compass needle points… eastward. Driven by an inexplicable urge, I follow the arrow to the river near the fringes of the woods.
And there, bobbling in the murky waters, apparently having been blown in the sea, is a jagged red stone.
With bated breath, I scoop the Sunstone out of the waves. Large cracks meander across a similar green inscription. The sea has taken a bite of this poor thing.
But the longer I stare at it, the more uneasy I become. It's so red. Unnaturally red, unlike the common Sunstone. A dark, pungent crimson. Beneath the stench of seaweed and salt is a powerful metallic tang.
Whatever this smell is, it makes my blood run cold.
Out of curiosity, I hold both stones up to the light. The compass on the White Moonstone points at me. At its… complimentary counterpart. Back at me.
But the Red Sunstone's needle keeps spinning around… just like Volkner's compass did in places where time stood still.
Why do I have this sinking feeling that something horrible had happened or will happen? Maybe it's the bruising sky. Or the darkened horizon. Or maybe it's just a hangover effect from Grandma's ghost stories.
Nonetheless, I pocket both stones. I'll look into this matter some more. Right now, I should be going before night falls.