POV: Cynthia/ LOCATION: Foggy Forest
The humidity drops in a heartbeat, so suddenly that I break out in cold sweat.
"We're close."
I turn to my companion, who's absently munching on a sweetened rice cracker. Condensation dots his sugar-sprinkled moustache.
"You could've stayed at home," I say. "Haven't you heard of the curse, Professor Rowan?"
The old man unwraps a red bean dorayaki and chews it wistfully.
I can't help but tease. "Are you scared? You've been binging on snacks."
"Cynthia, must you underestimate everyone you meet? I have bear witness to many strange and inexplicable things in my 60 years. A mere rumor will not deter me from a discovery of a lifetime."
The surroundings fizzle like a mirage in a desert. A miasma of white descends onto the horizon, thickening as we approach.
"Curses," Rowan mutters. "Hexes. Magic. In the end, there's only one truth, and we will get to the bottom of it."
He's so pragmatic. If not for Professor Rowan, I would've let Grandma's ghost stories take on a life of their own.
Still. A place that steals memories? How oddly convenient…
Suddenly, my stomach curdles. A frigid chill accompanies the presence of an inky white haze. Phantasmal fingers claw at my hair, at every exposed square of skin, stabbing flesh with slender, icy fingernails.
A low, ominous wail snakes through the heavy fog. The very air pulsates like it's breathing.
"It's getting difficult to breathe," Rowan murmurs from somewhere nearby. "Stay close, Cynthia."
Visibility is so bad that I can't see my own hand. I try using Defog, as I often do to Celestic Town's fog problem.
Not even a dent.
The investigation to Foggy Forest continues on foot. As Rowan and I wade deeper into the white gloom, an intense pressure builds up behind my forehead.
"It's so quiet here," I hiss.
A bleached branch shatters under my heel with a snap suspiciously akin to a bones breaking.
After a while, Rowan says, "Do you suppose time has stopped here as well?"
I stop walking. The murky mist churns like colorless sewer water. A spray of odd, distorted light glints off every speck of suspended moisture. The dark trees whisper, their silent stories carrying through the rustling of leaves.
"No," I whisper. "The forest is alive."
Rowan gives a pointed look behind us. At the trail of small bones off to the side. "Do you suppose we're not the only livings things here?"
Despite it being freezing as hell already, chills still shoot down my spine. "That's a possibility we can't dismiss. Something is definitely here in Foggy Forest. Lurking."
"Something like a curse?" a mean voice taunts in my head.
Suddenly, something yanks my arm. Rowan. With a ghastly shadow over his face that sends colonies of gooseflesh exploding down my neck.
"There."
Beyond the dewy grass is a color that stands out against the slurry white canvas:
Red. Red here and there, staining the ground. A big splat adorned by smaller pieces like a ritual pentagram. The moisture has preserved the purity of the odious color, leaving the blood as fresh as it was during the moment of impact.
No doubt that's human blood.
"Not another step," Rowan growls, his tone uncharacteristically solemn. "I'll make a pager for the authorities when we return." In a lower voice, he adds, "That's what I get for coming here on the prospect of treasure. Instead, I get a cold case…"
While he notes the scene, I hover behind him, a hand pressed on my uneasy stomach.
Great. The first thing we see in Foggy Forest is the scene of someone's demise. Judging from the boulders nearby, an accident must've happened somewhere up above. A nasty fall, perhaps. A quick strike on the back of the head…
But where is the body?
"I hunted my enemy into the outskirts of the forest. Driven by my lust for revenger, I shoved her off the highest ledge…"
My blood runs cold like the mist around me. No way… Cyrus, did you really…?
"What's this?"
With gloved hands, Rowan holds up a scrap of silver metal. A whole lot of them mixed in with the debris. Fallen parts of a machine… one whose design aesthetic matches what I've seen on my tour of HQ.
My heart sinks. Oh, Cyrus… So it was true? A part of me knew that you were lying with your confession. You were hiding something, that's what I believed. That's what I hoped.
But I guess I was wrong. You are the heartless monster they all make you out to be… aren't you, Cyrus?
How disappointing…
Out of the blue, an association clicks in my brain. This smell… this strongly metallic, moisture-heavy stench… I've stumbled across it before. Just recently, in fact.
Why, that thing is sitting in my pocket right now. Carrying the foul stench of blood.
"There's no such thing as curses," Rowan says. "Just evil acts born from the darkness of the human heart."
After he notes the crime scene, we head an overgrown path leading deeper into the forest. Soon the pounding of water leaks through the fog. We have arrived in some sort of clearing near the waterfalls.
There, in the heart of the woods, is a stone statue half-sunken into the earth.
Rowan steps closer, his brushy brows furrowing. "A statue of such fine craftsmanship, all the way out here? What on earth does this mean…?"
While he muses to himself, I investigate the odd statue. Roots and flowers have claimed the weathered surface. One thing's for sure: it's been sleeping in Foggy Forest since the creation of Mt. Coronet.
Another mystery in this swamp of enigma. But how does this all tie together…?
Rowan presses his ear against the stone edifice. "Why, I'll be… this is Groudon, the legendary Pokemon rumored to have moved landmasses in ancient times! Your likeness is captured well beyond any recreation of the Pokedex!"
"Um… Professor? Sorry to interrupt your fangirling, but there's something written here."
A cracked plaque hangs below the Groudon statue. I don't recognize this language. For something to precede the Unown alphabet, the oldest alphabet to date in Sinnoh… we are dealing with a fragment from a long-lost time.
Rowan utters a quiet, excited breath. "Footprint runes! Once upon a time, it was said that Pokemon communicated through a written system."
I scoff. "That's ridiculous. Pokemon can't talk, much less write."
And what I receive is a patient frown. "For the Champion of Sinnoh, you are incredibly narrow-minded."
"Hey…"
"Anyway, we seem to have run into quite a predicament. Half of the text is missing."
Upon closer inspection, there is a jagged edge running down the side of the Groudon statue. As if it was ripped apart.
So that means… this was part of one statue? Of what exactly?
Luckily, we don't have to search far for its complimentary counterpart. There, half-submerged behind the waterfall, is a Kyogre statue.
"I see!" Rowan gasps. "These two legendary Pokemon were rumored to clash in ancient times, bringing droughts and floods as they battle for dominion…"
He then scribbles furiously in his notebook, piecing together the cryptic puzzle while I marvel at his childish glee.
With a dramatic clearing of his throat, he reads it out loud:
"Bringer of life and death. Shine the brightest before your demise.
Bringer of deceit and truth. Guide the lost back to the light.
Reignite the spirit that burned within Groudon.
Awaken the soul that dwelled within Kyogre.
The path to treasure shall open for those chosen by the Relic Key."
A shocked silence follows Rowan's words.
"Relic Key?" I echo. Now where have I heard that before…?
Meanwhile, Rowan is trembling with anticipation.
"Treasure," he murmurs. "The discovery of a lifetime."
"What if it's a trap?" I say.
"What if it isn't?"
After a brief consideration, Rowan and I come to terms with reality.
"I am certain that these statues are tied with the secrets of the fog," he says. "But how exactly does one ignite life? Awaken a soul from a statue?"
I ponder long and hard, running my hand across the moss-eaten stone.
Ah. There, in the chests of the Pokemon, is a cavity. Fitted to hold… a large object. Palm-sized. A round object for Kyogre, a jagged thing for Groudon.
Rowan sighs. "Splendid. A dead-end, when we're so close."
And like lightning to the skull, I have it. What if… No, surely it can't be a coincidence…
With pounding heart, I whip out the White Moonstone and Red Sunstone. They're… glowing. Synchronizing.
While Rowan watches intently, I slide the White Moonstone into Kyogre's heart. A perfect fit. Same goes with the Red Sunstone for Groudon.
"It's a long story," I say to his unspoken question. "It's just a wild hunch—"
Then the earth begins to tremble. Tremors shoot up my legs, rendering my stomach to jelly. Rowan pulls me aside as the earthquakes worsen, as water froths out of the ponds, as the sky falls down in chunks…
"Cover your head!" Rowan roars.
Seconds after his warning, a dazzling explosion of light blows through the fog.
It's what lies ahead that I still have trouble believing up to this day. Grandma was right: something did lurk behind the fog. Foggy Forest concealed not just an incredible, breathtaking treasure, but also a big secret:
The truth, to be precise. A horrifying one.