Summary—Dmitri gives Ash an ultimatum that will affect Ash's life for a long time, theoretically, anyway. Probably the shortest chapter ever. :-P

Chapter 19:

Lost Souls

Ash didn't even blink when the scenery changed around him, when he was suddenly on a high hill somewhere in the world. He was also not surprised at the change of clothes he now had on: a dark cape, a loose tunic, plane pants, and leather boots. Instead, he looked up into the clear night sky at the stars. Behind him Ash could hear the soft crunch of the ground. "What do you want, Dmitri?"

"I want nothing," the man responded, stepping closer.

"Then why are you here?"

He grinned. "I am but obeying orders."

"About what?"

"Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?"

"Maybe I'm wrong." He looked back up at the sky, at the bright stars.

"You're not. Probably, anyway," Dmitri shrugged.

"I know."

"You should return. It would be for the best interest."

"For whom?"

"Everyone."

"I have no reason to go back. I won the battle."

"Would you win again?"

At that Ash gave no response, other than to ask Dmitri. "Well, would I win if I were to battle again?"

"I don't know."

Ash turned his head to look at him. "If I knew what would have happened before I went to those mountains, I never would have gone." There was a soft pain in his voice.

"You would have if you were alone," he countered smugly. "That you would have done."

He had to admit it. "Yes."

"Just as Trainer Gary Oak would do if you weren't a part of the picture."

"You just leave him alone," Ash snapped.

"Why? He is such delightful bait," Dmitri laughed. "You would go only to stop the battles, and try to prepare him. But no one prepared you." Dmitri paused. "You will, of course, return."

"And why is that?"

Dmitri grinned. "Because we want you to."

Ash gave a hollow laugh. "And that's going to convince me?"

"You didn't let me finish."

He glared at Dmitri. "Finish, then."

"Did Miriam receive a letter recently?" he asked, avoiding giving a straight answer.

Ash growled. "That was a dirty trick."

"Trick, he says. We play no tricks in the Constellation League."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed, turning to look away from the messenger.

Dmitri mused thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, Endallah can be very reasonable, under the right motivation."

The statement had the desired effect. Ash gasped and froze, turning quickly, eyes wide. "What the Hell are you saying?"

"Not that we caught the Pokémon, for sure," Dmitri grinned.

"You can't be serious."

"I am. Deadly. Wait, no, wrong adverb. Maybe lively?"

"You brought her back to life?" Ash screeched, grabbing him by the shirt. "What are you, playing God?!"

Dmitri removed the hands psychically. "Well, if you would prefer, we can stop 'playing God', as you call it."

Ash opened him mouth, then stopped when the blunt realization hit him.

"It would be your call," Dmitri continued softly. "Your . . . fault, one way or another." He deliberately used the words he did, knowing the guilt Ash still had.

"You . . .. bastards," Ash hissed, turning around quickly and biting his knuckle.

"Well?" Dmitri asked once a fair amount of time had passed. "Your choice?"

"She should be dead, shouldn't she?"

"That was the way the test was originally set up."

"Then why isn't she?"

"Do you want her to be?"

Ash turned his head away quickly. "Just answer my question," he ordered savagely.

"How else would it be assured that you would return? It was quite obvious after we thought about if for a moment. You took off to rapidly, so dangerously, that the answer of why you left would be the self-same as why you would return."

"Why?" Ash demanded. "Why is having me stay there so damn important?"

Dmitri narrowed his eyes. "You know the answer to that, Trainer." He paused. "Let me show you something," he said, pointing to the sky.

Ash looked up into the sky, eyes intent for any motion. The stars still shined their light down to the miniscule Earth, and he saw no change no matter how hard he looked until it was near the end. Then he saw it, a tiny pinprick moving closer and closer. By the Law of Perspectives, the light should have been getting bigger as it neared, but at each new distance it remained the same. Dmitri held out his hand, and Ash watched mutely as the light moved to rest on the palm. It was no bigger than a grain of sand, and it shone no brighter than what it had in the sky.

"What is it?"

"For anyone who does die in the Constellation League, the eternal resting ground is the sky. I will give you three guesses as to whose, umm, I suppose soul would be a good word to use, although this is nothing religious, in that sense. Yes, whose soul I hold it. And the first two really don't count." Ash stood speechless. Dmitri saw him staring, knowing what it was, and blew the grain away without a word. Both Ash and the lost soul itself were helpless to save the light as it spiraled and whirled about. "There are many reasons why we are called the Constellation League."

Ash looked away again, watching as the speck returned to the sky, wondering how many other souls were trapped up there. He felt sick. "Did it ever occur to you I am not one for your Trainers, nor will I ever be? They gave up something they never should have to be the best, and it made them the worst. They're not even Trainers."

"So you perceive," Dmitri shrugged. "Did it ever occur to you that you only see us like that only because she helped you see it. Otherwise you wouldn't have noticed, would have been like us, and have come much more willingly. And sooner." The eyes blinked casually as Ash's face contorted with quiet fury. "You will return."

"That is debatable." He knew, and Dmitri knew, he was lying. Ash looked away again. "I promised I'd never go back," he said quietly. "I keep my word."

"And we keep ours."

Ash snorted. "Yeah, right."

Dmitri paused, then laughed. "I see your strategy, now. You are avoiding answering the question of whether or not young Shamin lives. Well? What is your answer?"

Ash said nothing, turning away, not allowing himself to choose sides, to admit and be used like this. Gus was right. They did attack your weaknesses.

The messenger smiled knowingly. "Your choice, your fault." Then he snapped his fingers, returning them back to the Ketchum yard.