Shades of the Past
by Kellnoa

Chapter III
Blood is Thicker than Water

Out across the dark and choppy water, to the far left, resided a very large land, which its inhabitants commonly called Camreon Island. Camreon was a star-shaped island, with many different landscapes across the five main areas. There was the grassy fields of Northarim, the watery land of Eastarim, the woody Southarim, and the mountainous terrain of Westarim, where Ryan's home was located. The fifth area was the Cetrand, or Centerland, where each of the four "arms" was connected. Cetrand was also home to City Crytell, the capital of the island, as well as the headquarters for the pokémon training Crystal League and the card battling Sephim League.

Ryan had heard a few times in class about a theory that suggested the island was most likely artificial, since the land was arranged too perfectly to be left to chance. Some scientists even theorized that the island was built by an ancient race, backed by manuscripts found in the Agemo Ruins. But this was of course met with skepticism; most argued that it would have been impossible for them to build such a large land mass, and that it would have taken advanced technology to attempt such a feat, technology that far surpassed today's scientific advancements.

Another thing that marked the island as unusual was the area between each arm. They each had seas between them, and in those seas there resided smaller islands, placed in such a way as to mark northeast, northwest, southeast, and southwest; the island eerily represented a giant compass. There were a total of thirteen islands, each with thier own unique environments and history.

One of the islands happened to be slightly northwest of the boat. Onidam was one of the largest of the thirteen islands, harboring the town of Fiarlem, two forests, including the famed Sapsick Forest, a small river, and Mount Enial, the second largest mountain on the island-continent, only surpassed by Mount Tarkeon in the Cetrand.

While a physical Ryan soaked in the new perspective of his only home, an intangible Ryan was distracted by by his own thoughts and emotions about this whole situation. He tried to move his arm in a futile attempt to calm himself, but it only continued to grasp the rail in the "reality", only moving when it received commands that were not there. And it made him wonder about how this would prove useful in the near future. He would be reaching out with those arms, but he wouldn't. And that angered him to the point where he just wanted to scream in fury and torment, never to stop. But it still had no effect.

"Stop it! Whoever is doing this, just STOP IT! What kind of SICK joke is this, anyway!" He lashed out at nothing with an angry tongue, but it proved to have no effect on anything.

A firm hand grasped his shoulder, forcefully causing Ryan to spin one hundred and eighty degrees. He stopped to stare at Travis' face, framed by dark brown hair adn set with an angry expression. Or what appeared to be an angry one. Ryan would have truly been scared if it weren't for Travis' hazel eyes, which in them cancelled out the facial cast, as they were brimming with pride for him, and him only. It surprised him because Travis hardly let anything he felt show there, through the so-called "windows to the soul". But that simple act of lowering that shield for him just showed the deep connection they had with each other.

"Tenth birthday, huh?" he half asked, half stated, as he fished his hand inside the cluttered mess he kept in his teal backpack. "In just three short years," he began as he withdrew his hand from there, along with a box wrapped in brown paper, "I'll have to drag you along with me across the island, giving you tips and such." He handed the brown box to Ryan, who immediately guessed that it was his gift.

Travis had called a week earlier, claiming that he had the "ultimate gift" for Ryan. And it had been a week of anticipation for his birthday to arrive, so that he could not only see his brother again, but so he could finally discover this "ultimate gift".

That was why his face fell when he held the packaged in his hand. It was a small box, about twenty centimeters in length and width, and thirty centimeters in height. It was crudely wrapped in a crumpled piece of brown paper, most likely wrapped from a paper grocery bag. The only thing that made it the least bit interesting were little black spiral designs that littered the surface. The only thing that marked the box unusual was how heavy it was. Other than that, Ryan couldn't see what was so special about it.

But Travis wasn't known to make promises he wouldn't keep, and today wasn't an exception. With a heated fervor, he quickly tore at the paper, only to find an ordinary brown box beneath. That didn't stop the boy though as he attempted to pry the top lid open. And once that was done, he looked inside the box, and realized what his brother meant. It was the moment when Ryan clearly understood the phrase, "Don't judge a book by its cover".

It was an egg! A glorious, genuine pokémon egg, with a real pokémon inside!

The egg was covered in a lavender shell, literally wrapped in a menagerie of maroon circles, some fat and some thin. When Ryan lifted the heavy object in his hand, the shell felt rough and warm to the touch. It was a perfect egg, with a perfect pokémon who would become his first.

But something marked it different from the other pokémon eggs Ryan had seen, whether on television or in person. In the exact middle of the egg, running horizontally, were strange symbols that were seemingly engraved into the shell. They looked like some form of ancient writing, like runes. They didn't seem to affect the egg in any other way, but they sure were unusual to find on the object.

"Ho-how did...I mean...why? How'd you get this, and why for me?" he managed to say in his stunned silence.

"I knew you'd want a pokémon; you always wanted one. And when I found this egg a few weeks ago, I thought it was the perfect chance to get you your first pokémon. In my opinion, it's never too late to get a head start, despite what the rules say." A smirk quickly followed Travis' explanation before he spoke again. "I told you that it was the ultimate gift. Fun's not over yet, though. Take another look inside."

Ryan noticed the gleam in his brother's eye before he looked back inside the box, egg still in hand. Inside were six objects all rolling around the bottom. He sat on the floor with his legs crossed, enough to tuck the egg safely without having to worry of it rolling into the sea, and with his free hand, deposited it inside the box. When he withdrew his hand, the objects rested in his palm.

"Pokéballs too!" Ryan scuttled over to his big brother and gave him a hug of gratitude for what he had done. "I can't believe this...thank you."

Another look at the pokéballs revealed that these were special. They were custom made, as indicated by their black and white color instead of the standard red and white, with a gray crescent moon engraved at the top half of the ball.

"Just remember that you can't legally use that pokémon or those pokéballs to battle in the league 'till you're thirteen. Otherwise the police force will lock you up for training underage."

"Like that'll ever happen," Travis finished, low enough for only him to hear, referring to Camreon's lack of a good, efficient police force, unlike those of the lands far away, like the Johko and Kamo or whatever.

His words nevertheless went unheard, as Ryan was too busy pressing the white button on the pokéball, causing it to expand to a comfortable size in his palm, before pressing it again to watch it shrink. Then he would repeat the process; it was very amusing.

Ryan glanced up towards his big brother. The gifts he had given him were rare. Not the rarity of finding an egg as unique as the one he now owned, or rare in the case of his personalized pokéballs. They were rare in that they were given to him by his brother. He knew that not many brothers would go out of their way this much just to please their younger siblings. And even if they did, most likely it was to just get a cheap sense of affection from them, as well as a false sense of a clean conscience.

But Travis...he was different. He went out of the way for his brother and sister almost all the time. And when he said or did something to or for them, he didn't just do it because it was right. No, he did it because he meant in. And having a relationship in which the persons involved are sincere about what they do, going to the farthest limits for the other - it was priceless.

So, looking up at his brother, Ryan couldn't help but feel a large sense of admiration toward the older sibling.

At least the non-physical Ryan had gotten the hug that he wanted to give.

(-o-)

Armed with knowledge that surpassed the present, Ryan's only option was to look on in fear at the aggravated waves, their natural color of a calming blue replaced with a spiteful black. He watched as they pounded high against the sides of the ship, not high enough that it would reach the deck, but high enough to make one uncomfortable. Accompanying the waves was a sea of blackened clouds that brought a steady downpour of rain.

Turning his sight away form the ominous weather, he focused on the room his bodily self had chosen to wait out the storm. It was a small room with no artificial light, just the little light from the storm that managed to creep in through the window. There were faint outlines of boxes in the room, and by the stale and musty stink of the air, they had probably been there for some time. The strange heat just seemed to make it even more distinct. But who cared about the smell or temperature of a room, when the outcome of your own family's life was at stake?

That was the question that circled inside the thoughts of Ryan repeatedly. Why was he so foolish back then? Why did he come to this room? Why hadn't he just gone to the guestroom on the boat all those years ago?

Because he was scared. That's why.

he was scared of the fierce lightening that piered the sky in quick bursts, along with the loud boom of the thunder, which was loud enough to signal the end of the world. And that heavy rain with the steep steps leading below deck...forget it. Instead, he had bolted into the nearest room until it was safe enough to get back to his family. But being two years older, he knew now that there were much more things to be scared of than something like a tempest. Such as being scared as to lose a sibling who also happens to be your best friend. And being robbed of happiness, doomed to grieve and suffer for a long time, and agonizing over the fact that you can't change the past.

One of the thoughts that passed through his mind was the slippery set of stairs that led below deck. It was so long ago that he feared that the floor was too slippery, that he would slip. He'd slip, and then he'd fall. He'd fall down all those steps, each one breaking a bone here and opening a wound there. He would cry out in pain as gravity would pull him along, and by the time he would reach the bottom of the stairs, he'd stop. Not just stopping when there were no more steps left. He would stop breathing. His heart would stop beating. His brian would stop functioning. He would stop living.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it would have been a much better fate if he had died. He would rest in peace, while the others would be the ones to suffer and agonize over his death. He would narrowly escape from the grief that now poisoned his life; he would be free. But what of his family? They would still go through the same troubles that they did today. He didn't want his family to suffer. Not like Travis allowed.

If only he had known back then that running into the nearest room as a reaction to fear would lead to a much worse fate than death. For if he had known, he probably would have taken his chances with the stairs.

Ryan snapped out of his thoughts of mental abuse in time to realize that the light was starting to get dimmer and his vision was starting to fade away. That was another factor. He had fallen asleep in that room as well. He couldn't figure out why, he just did. Maybe if he hadn't fallen asleep...

With his own eyelids closed, blocking his only link with this world, Ryan could only agonize over these mistakes that he had made in the past, and figure out the different outcomes of his life if he had not made them. Either that, or he could wait anxiously for the inevitable.

"Maybe if I hadn't..."

(-o-)

"Ouch! My hand," cried Mrs. Trouleway as she yanked her hand out of the tightened grip of her son. It took a few seconds before she realized the source of the pressure. Even with the absence of her hand, Ryan's right hand remained balled into a fist, one so tight that the knuckes became whiter than the paleness that covered his entire arm. "My...oh, my..."

She looked up at his face to discover that his mouth was wide open, closing occasionally; he appeared to be having trouble breathing. In addition, his nose flared wildly in either excitement or panic; she couldn't tell.

She felt tears begin to well up in her eyes, a powerful shock overcoming her. She felt a bottomless joy for the first few moments, believing that her faith in a recovery of her son had helped him to survive. Her vision blurred as they became too much to hold back, but those tears of joy quickly turned to tears of panic when she saw the real picture.

His eyes. His eyes; they were wide open, glazed over and distant, as if watching something else. They were filled with fear and pain, blinding the real world in which he lay sick.

"Nurse! NURSE!" She hollered into the hallway as she made her way to the side of his bed. She placed her palm on his chest to calm him down, but it was a vain attempt. Instead, he writhed in pain even more, and she quickly withdrew her hand, scared that she would induce worse symptoms.

It only took a few seconds for two nurses and a doctor to enter the room, Tami and Mr. Trouleway close behind. They all stopped in the doorway, viewing the strange scene that was happening at that moment. As the medical personnel proceeded to leave the room in search of the right equipment to use, the last two family members quickly attended the mother's side, trying in small, futile attempts to calm Ryan down and bring him to his senses.

"Mama, what happened? What's happening to Ryan?" questioned Tami, terror filling her voice.

"I-I don't know. I was ju-u-ust sitting there, a-and t-then..." She couldn't finish as she completely broke down, throwing herself over her son's body, hugging and crying as the same time. Tami repeated the process at the same time, while Mr. Trouleway watched, having no clude as to what he should do.

(-o-)

Ryan awoke with a start as he was wildly flung into one of the many piles of boxes, knocking most of them down about him. Luckily, most of them were empty.

Sill half-asleep, and thinking that he was still dreaming, the boy attempted to stand up, only to be pushed back down again as the ship rose violently into the air, only to come crashing down. After that, the ship remained level, at least as level as it could be with tons of water smashing into the hull, for a certain amount of time for which he could finally stand. A clap of thunder finally woke him fully, and realizing that he was not dreaming, he slowly made his way to the tiny window of the room, only to gasp in shock and fright.

The storm had gotten considerably worse during his short slumber. The waves seemed to be very rough and very dangerous. Up above, lightning could be seen flashing in quick bursts, lighting up the solar night. The forks of electricity were also followed by a dull, rolling sound of thunder which was strangely difficult to discern over the fierce howling of the wind.

This frightening scene made Ryan yearn to be with his family, but it seemed impossible to leave the safety of the room without killing yourself out there. In the instant this reasoning came and went, Ryan found himself on the other side of the door, right in the middle of nature's temper. Grabbing onto the slick railing for dear life, he became quickly drenched with a combination of the high waters and the heavy rain. The wind seemed to work against him as he began to slide back towards the end of the boat on the wet floor. In the back and front of his mind, he knew he was doomed.

"HELP!" he screamed, the sound swallowed up by the harshness of the weather. He continued to slide, and a look behind him revealed that he didn't have long before he would perish in the sea. The only option was to let go. it was an idea that was not appealing to him, but like a mouse backed up into the corner, with a cat right in front of it, there is no choice but to hope that the death was quick. Either that, or hope that a dog would come to your rescue.

"Hiya!" Or a pokémon.

Ryan looked up in a heartbeat, and found himself staring into a large, red reflection of himself. Looking at its source, Ryan identified the pokémon in front as being Torrent, his brother's staryu.

"Torrent, bring Ryan up to me!" came a voice over the storm, though sounding very distant.

Staryu obeyed the command as she slipped one of its appendages between Ryan's arm. It gave a confirmation, allowing Ryan to tighten his hold against the water pokémon. He nearly slipped, and almost lost hold of the rubbery skin, but he kept a firm grip on her.

With a mighty leap, the staryu jumped a few feet into the air, only to be blown back a bit as she fought against the wind. Instead of going forward, Staryu landed a few feet back from its original position, dangerously close to the end of the boat, where the water engulfed a large part of the floor. Ryan began to panic when he saw that the weather was too strong, and would take its toll on both of them within seconds.

"Torrent! Try a Rapid Spin and Water Gun combo!" Ryan could barely hear him over the loud roll of thunder that had just occurred.

"Hiya!" she replied as Torrent tried to jump up into the air again. However, this time she fired two powerful jets of water against the floor of the ship. Fired at an angle, the pokémon and human were propelled high and forward into the air, against the wind and the rain. In mid-leap, Ryan wrapped his arms and legs around her slender body as Torrent began to rapidly spin through the air. It was slow due to the added weight and position of carrying Ryan, but it helped to make staryu more aerodynamic, as she was able to go forward more without the wind pushing against her as much.

As soon as the added weight began to take her toll, Torrent would make a quick land on any surface, before jumping into the air and performing another Rapid Spin attack. She would repeat this process until Ryan was in the safety of Travis' arms.

It took about twenty exhausting minutes before Torrent and Ryan finally made it to the opposite end of the boat. As soon as Travis relieved Torrent of Ryan, she collapsed on the floor, beginning to slide toward the other side of the boat.

Giving Torrent a word of thanks, he quickly retrieved her with the pokéball he held in one of his hands. Securing it safely onto his belt, he used both hands to firmly grasp onto Ryan, unaware that his younger brother had vomited over his shoulder, caused by the almost non-stop spinning for his rescue.

"Travis," he managed to squeeze out weakly, fear and fatigue taking its toll on his young self.

"Just be quiet Ryan. go to sleep if you want to. Everything's going to be ok - ah!" As he made his way back towards the stairs, he slipped on the water, causing him to slip and slide down the path he walked. Waves after waves of water tried to bring and keep him down, but he refused to do so, trying to get up every step of the way. And he refused to give up his own brother, knowing that his life was just as important as his own, if not more so, and that if Ryan would die here, then he would too.

It was a difficult "walk", but Travis could finally see the stairs that led to the rooms below, one of them containing his own family. He knew he should have been down there, as his father and the captain of the ship had volunteered to go search for Ryan. But he had snuck off instead. If he ever got through this alive, he was definitely going to get it from his parents.

The wind made a sudden change in direction, setting the blunt of its power against Travis' progress. Because of this sudden shift in air, the waves began to get much rougher, and the ship began to bounce even more. More thunder and lightning bared themselves, surprising the determined teenager. Balancing against the slick wall, he was close enough to see the bottom of the stairwell, where his father stood, half in and half out, looking for any sign of his two sons.

"Dad!"

Mr. Trouleway looked desperately in his direction. "Travis! Do you have Ryan!"

"Yeah! He nearly drowned near the back of the boat! Help me get him inside!"

(-o-)

Inside, Ryan felt lonely and helpless as he watched the horrible scene unfold before him. He could do nothing to help, not even lift a finger. He couldn't act, he couldn't warn, he couldn't even offer encouragement, anything that could alter the inevitable outcome of this situation. And the worst of it was that it was all his fault that he had placed his family into the current position they were in now. And, he guessed, this was his punishment.

Ryan, being held over his brother's shoulder, and unaffected by the rescue, had the perfect view of what was happening behind his brother's back. And it was coming fast.

"The wave, Travis. The wave."

(-o-)

Mr. Trouleway's eyes widened as he saw the horrible danger that was quickly coming towards the three of them. "Travis! BEHIND YOU!"

"What!" he inquired as he stole a glance over his shoulder. Only to glance again.

A large swell of water was racing down the entire corridor, coming on fast tot he stair for which he hadn't even begun to descend.

As Travis watched on, he realized that he had a critical decision to make. He could attempt to carry his brother and descend the stairs as quickly as he could, but there was a high possibility that they would not be able to make it to ther door in time. Then there was the option of dropping Ryan and saving his own life. But he couldn't do that to his own flesh and blood. It would have been a cowardly thing to do, and Ryan's death would be on his shoulders for the rest of his life. And the third option...he did say that Ryan's life was more important than his own.

"Ryan," he began, as he took his brother off of his shoulders, holding him in front of himself with adrenaline-filled arms. "I'm so sorry...I don't want to leave you, but..."

(-o-)

"Travis, just leave me here! You're of more use to the family! Just go!" A silent Ryan spoke these words. They refused to perform their original purpose, and instead just remained inside the confines of his own mind.

Ryan could clearly see the decision-making skills that Travis implemented, revealed in his eyes and in the expression on his face. But he alrady knew the final decision that would be made. And it seemed like that decision had been made again. Ryan let out a silent scream.

"DAD! CATCH HIM!" came the call as Travis tossed Ryan's limp body just over the stairs. Tumbling through the air, Ryan had no sense of direction or destination. During his flight, even he forgot what was happening, as that thought of him falling down the stairs re-surfaced, bringing panic again. Both the Ryan inside and the Ryan outside were screaming.

Ryan collided with his dad, who was propelled to the opposite wall next to the open door, where he slid down to the ground, stunned by the impact. Ryan had a good view of the top of the stairwell, watching as Travis desperately tried to make it down the stairs, while trying to keep his balance on the slippery steps. Just behind him, he could see a wall of water right above the stairs, trying to make its way into the floors below.

Ryan was suddenly yanked though the open door, along with his stunned dad, most likely by the captain and the crew. They then quickly shut the door, thinking that everyone had made it isnide. Little did they realize that there was one person that was trapped on the other side, vulnerable to attack from the wrath of the sea.

The boy could distinctly hear a dull thud against the steel door, followed by a great crash. Without much thought, Ryan could easily figure out that the water had reached the door, with Travis under the weight. Right up agains the small, round glass, his face could be seen, staring at all the safe people inside. Blood framed his head, somehow not easily washed away by the seawater. And then his face was gone.

Ryan stared in a stunned silence at the door, at the last image of his brother. His eyes were wide, shock, fear, and anger shining from them. His mouth gaped open as if trying to yell one last goodbye, or one last cry for help. And the blood outlining the contours of his head...it was a gruesome sight, one that Ryan would continue to see both in his nightmares and in the ghost of his brother.

With his father still stunned, and his mother and sister crying at the image on the door and the death of a family member engraved in their hearts, Ryan, both inside and out, just continued to stare at the door, unable to believe what had just transpired had been the result of their actions.

(-o-)

"RYAN! STOP PLAYING AROUND AND WAKE UP!" screamed a frantic mother as she struggled to free herself form the grip of her husband and another doctor. Many nurses and a few doctors surrounded her son's hospital bed, trying different techniques to rouse him from the shock that he seemed to be experiencing. But she knew that it wouldn't work. He needed his mother. Only she would be able to heal him.

"Let. Me. Go!" she cried as she tore away from their grip, only to be bound by some of the doctors in the room. She struggled against them all, but she was outnumbered four to one, and her chances of escape were low. Those chances were reduced even more when one of the doctors gave her a sedative to calm her down, and perhaps even make her fall asleep.

While this was going on, a small collection of nurses watched the monitors of electroencephalographs and the electrocardiographs, measuring the brain activity and heart rate accordingly. They both were going off the scale, suggesting that it must be something within the boy's mind to induce such a response.

They were also attempting to execute every medical technique possible to wake him from the shock he was experiencing, as could be told by the facial expression that had frozen on his face. But nothing seemed to work, even with all the medication they gave him intravenously. Nothing seemed to help.

One of the doctors, after examining the different machinery, and examining Ryan, came over to the other side of the room to address the family.

"Wha-what is happening to my son?" Mrs. Trouleway stammered, the hint of a slur apparent in her speech.

"We're trying to do everything we can to bring him back. But nothing we try is working. All we know is that his body is at a heightened state of alertness. His brain activity is much more active than it should be for one in a coma, his heart and breathing rate have significantly increased, and adrenaline is being released; it's almost as if her were getting ready to counter a danger that isn't really there. He-" He stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes focusing on the monitor that displayed Ryan's bodily statistics. And it wasn't just him, but all the eyes in the room, including the nurses, doctors, and Trouleways, all fixated on that tiny screen. But they didn't even have to glance in that direction to know what had just happened. That single, piercing monotone note revealed all.

One of the doctors checked Ryan's wrist for a pulse. Seconds later, he sadly shook his head, gently placing the arm on the sheets.

Tami tucked herself into her father's chest, getting it all soaked, in an effort to find security and comfort. Mr. Trouleway just looked away from everyone, out towards the window, his eyes glazed, but tears absent. And Mrs. Trouleway, though in a dazed state, grabbed her son's head, hugging it to her chest, sobbing at her loss.

Ryan had just died.

E N D , C H A P T E R . T H R E E