A/N: Another big change to canon in this one. But it's time I setting things up and start wrapping things up. We've only got one gym and a Pokemon league left! More after the chapter, as always. Enjoy the chapter!
The Weald was cold and silent. Rapidash led the way dutifully, but her head twitched at the slightest sound or murmuring of another Pokémon. Hop, Sonia, and I followed close behind, crunching through fallen leaves and twigs. Our breaths dispersed in even white clouds that swirled and dissipated into the fog that never truly seemed to leave the wood. Sonia was deeply engrossed in a Dynamax Reader she had brought along. It had been picking up no readings whatsoever. Tsareena walked alongside her, sporting a face that mirrored the anxieties of Rapidash. We walked along, not saying a word. I could hear the soft hooting of a Hoothoot somewhere in the distance but could not see it.
It was Hop who finally broke the silence, after twenty minutes of walking. "You think we're going in the right direction?" he asked.
"I bet Dubwool knows the way," I whispered in response. "You know, it's his fault we're in this whole mess anyway, now that I'm thinkin' about it."
"Now's not the time to be funny," Hop shot back.
"Now is a great time to be funny," I mock-scolded.
"Couldn't you just, like, I dunno, ask Zacian or Zamazenta?" Sonia asked. "This hunk of junk isn't doing anything to help."
I glanced at Hop, who shrugged at me. "I dunno," he said. "I've never actually tried to ask."
"I've only been able to do it once, and I ended up more or less passing out," I added.
"You're telling me that we're showing up to meet with literal mythical beasts unannounced?"
"Worked the first time," I shrugged, picking up my pace and putting myself in step with Rapidash.
"Bloody hell," Sonia groaned, exasperation thick in her voice. "You're more like Leon than his own brother is!"
"I resent that!" Hop chirped in annoyance, picking up his pace as well. With that, the two of us were flanking Rapidash as the fog thickened all around us. Sonia groaned again but was soon right behind us with Tsareena. As we walked, I noticed that Hop had his brow deeply furrowed, concentrating on something. He caught my eye and without a word between us I understood. I took a deep breath, furrowed my brow as well, and tried to reach out mentally to see if Zacian was listening.
"This way," Hop said suddenly. I looked over to him and saw that he had broken right and had almost completely disappeared into the fog despite being less than ten yards away. I gulped and felt the cool air grow heavy on my shoulders. Had it been this foggy before? I nodded to Rapidash and the two of us went after Hop, barely able to see him or the ground we stepped on. Sonia clutched onto my shoulders, and I could feel it twitching, but she never slowed her place.
And so, we continued to walk. I was getting no read from Zacian, but every so often, Hop would stop and turn ever so slightly in a different direction. He was filled with a calm confidence I had never seen in him before, as if Zamazenta was right next to him, guiding the way. Eventually, after what felt like hours, I could finally feel the heavy air grow lighter. Looking around, I could see the trees begin to spread out, and with nothing to cling to, the fog simply began to dissipate. It was only then that I could see to the bottom of the forest canopy, where a veritable army of Weezing were floating calmly, spouting their strange purifying gas all over the place, not too dissimilar to the way they would in Ballonlea, though their numbers were far greater here. Among them flew Orbeetle, lazily buzzing and paying us no mind either. Two Corviknight perched on a downed log, eyeing us curiously with their bright red eyes, but they made no moves to attack, and Hop seemed to pass right by them without even noticing their presence.
"Any of this look familiar to you?" Sonia whispered. Her voice was tense, but steady.
"Wish it was," I admitted. "If we are on the right path, I haven't been able to recognize anything." And yet, as I reached out, hoping in vain to probe for Zacian, I knew that we were not just on our way, but nearly at our destination. Whatever Hop was doing, he must have gotten hold of Zamazenta, because he was now unwavering in his movement.
Gloria.
My ears perked up. "Zacian?" I asked.
You came to us. I am glad to see you with my true eyes again.
"Glad to be here," I replied. "Wish you could have said hello a bit sooner, but…"
My brother wished to test his connection with his champion, Zacian's voice said with a hint of dryness. He bade me stay silent until he was certain you would arrive.
"So, we're almost there?"
Look with your own eyes and tell me.
As she spoke, Hop took another sharp turn around a downed log and soon we found ourselves on a path completely free of fog. At the end of the path was a small lake, water icy still though I could see it was not frozen over. Here the sky was open, free from the leafy ceiling, and behind a sparse set of clouds, a full moon shone brightly, reflecting onto the lake and casting everything in a surreal blue glow. The path led downwards to the lake, coming to an end at a small structure that I instantly recognized – a small stone archway, broken and decayed from years of neglect yet nevertheless still standing. At its base was that strange coffin-like granite slab with two indents intricately carved into it. And standing proudly, one at each side of the slab, were Zacian and Zamazenta themselves.
"You're…you're really here," I said, breathless.
"Who's here?" Sonia asked, squinting.
"Hold up," Hop said, pointing. "Look closer." Sure enough, I could see that the two beasts did not seem to be fully there – it was as if they were on pieces of newspaper, so thin that any bright lights could be seen through their skin.
It is true, Zacian said sorrowfully. We cannot fully regain our forms and power until our sword and shield are brought to us. Until then, only our Champions may see and hear us.
Please give your friend our deepest apologies, added Zamazenta in a warm growl of his low voice. She has quite the look of disappointment in her.
"Seriously," Sonia said. "Gloria, you better not be messing with me right now!"
"I guess only we can see them, for now," Hop explained, taking a step forward. "Sorry about that, Sonia."
Sonia sighed. "Talk about a letdown," she said folding her arms. "Guess I'll just…study the architecture, then. Tell me if I walk through them or something?"
"Sure," I chuckled, and Sonia walked forward towards the archway. Zacian and Zamazenta watched her, each mildly amused, and then turned to look back at Hop and me. Both nodded, beckoning us to come forward. Slowly, we started to continue walking, and they took steps toward us as well, meeting us at the edge of the stony ground.
"So, er, what's the deal, then?" Hop asked shakily. Zamazenta and Zacian stopped directly across from us, and though they were translucent in the pale moonlight, I could still see them clearly, for the first time. Both were massive in size, much larger than the Lycanroc they were getting confused with. On their haunches, they barely had to raise their heavy heads to look us square in the eye. Their fur was still in its matted state, far from the grandeur of how they appeared in our dreams, and I could see patches of skin underneath, where twisted scars wove a tale of conflict and battle that no doubt stretched back far beyond the Darkest Day.
Hop? That is your name, correct? Zacian asked.
"Y-yeah," Hop said.
It is good to meet and speak with you, finally, she continued warmly. Gloria implied you may not be what you seem, but we watched you battle your way to the tower with great pride.
"Way to throw me under the bus, mate," I grumbled.
"No," Hop corrected. "Gloria was right. For a time, maybe. I wasn't what I seemed. Still not sure what I am deep down here, in fact."
Within you beats the heart of a champion, Zamazenta said.
Hop chuckled. "Yeah, you keep telling me, but I still haven't the foggiest what that means," he said, scratching the back of his neck.
You are both young, Zamazenta said in a comforting voice, nodding slowly. And you both have much to grow into. We regret that our call to action is so soon in your lives.
"There's plenty of other, older people," Hop said. "Surprised you two didn't show up to Lee; he's the champion's champion." I glanced over at him. On his face was a sheepish smile, but there was a sadness and confusion that flittered across his eyes for the briefest moment. He looked over to me and flushed slightly. "Or Gloria; she's the noble one out of us, not me."
"Don't listen to him, whatever you're talkin' about!" Sonia said with a haughty laugh as she crouched down below the slab. "Hop, believe me, I've traveled with your brother, you're the noble one in the family. Man's got the manners of a bloody doorknob."
Zamazenta chuckled. It is true we could have revealed ourselves to other, older, men or women, but we take great pride in who we choose to reveal ourselves to. One could say we know what we are doing. We have been at this long before your bloodlines began.
"He's telling you what I'm telling you, right?" Sonia blurted out, now leaning up against the tab and looking between Hop and me.
"Sonia," I grunted.
"Sorry, sorry, don't mean to interrupt. You didn't tell me there would be rocks here, so I didn't bring anything to look these over with proper."
A bit of information for your friend, Zacian said slowly. She happens to be leaning on our graves.
"Your graves?!" I repeated.
"Their graves?!" Sonia echoed, pulling herself back with such force that she tumbled backward, landing inches away from the crisp water with a heavy thud.
Yes, Zacian said with a laugh, before turning back to me with a more serious demeanor. Though our spirits cannot die, our physical bodies are not invincible.
No doubt you see it in our scars, Zamazenta added, turning to show off some of his scars to us proudly. Though we may succumb in battle, we may return when called upon by those with a noble heart. I understand you have been told some of our story, yes?
I nodded. "Bits and pieces. We don't really have much information on you, I'm afraid," I said.
Then you know how we are called upon to serve our kingdoms; I Galar, and my brother, Soan, Zacian said. At first, the relationship between Pokémon and Human was seen as foreign to all, but as our kingdoms grew, our trust in each other did as well. We may have been the first to give our aid to humankind, but we were far from the last. Eventually, humans grew to trust Pokémon of all kinds, and though my brother and I were still called upon for great needs or to aid from all sorts of danger, they soon were able to stand and grow on their own. Their settlements flourished, from camps to settlements, from settlements to cities, and even further beyond that.
It was a time of great peace, Zamazenta added, sitting down close enough to Hop so that he could reach out and touch him, had he truly been there.
Zacian's eyes darkened. Yes, for a time, she said, but a time that has long since passed. Humankind is an interesting sort, Gloria and Hop. They have such great capacity for kindness and brotherhood, yet some of them have much greater capacity for violence, for terror, and far worse. Soon the city-states of all the land had spread so far that their borders knocked into each other. Some opened trade routes and shared their bounties, but some…
"Some didn't," Hop said quietly.
Many didn't, Zacian growled. And I regret to say it, but some of the worst came from the humans the two of us served.
Zamazenta nodded in agreement. I pride myself as being a shield to all dangers that come, yet I was used as a tool of war too many times, he added callously. We were both tricked, as many were, but it was our powers that overtook theirs.
We were young, like you, Zacian said, looking over at Hop. And we trusted blindly. But soon enough, we could see the irreparable damage we were dealing to the land. And so, we shut ourselves off to all but the most valued individuals. Those that had the values we deemed fit could bring us our sword and shield. Only then would we help them.
"Alright," I said slowly. "So where are the sword and shield?"
In time, Zamazenta said. We do not doubt you'll come across them. All those who we served since we first shut ourselves off could.
Hidden in plain sight, if you will, Zacian said playfully.
"Great, more riddles," Hop huffed.
Though our names may not have the same recognition they once held, we still contain tremendous power, Zamazenta said. Many would choose to search for this power and convince us to come to their aid.
"Couldn't you tell their motives the way you could tell ours?" I asked.
Some are far better at hiding their true motives than others, he explained. They are the ones one should watch out for most. It is what brought the Black Hand in the first place. As I understand it, that is how the Black Hand returned as well, is it not?
"Eternatus," Hop whispered. "That's the new name for it. Doesn't really look like a hand, though."
Names come and go, Zacian nodded.
"What can you tell us about it?" Hop asked.
I am afraid we know not much of it, Zamazenta admitted ruefully. But let us tell you of the story.
It begins in a way that may seem familiar to you, Zacian said, glancing at me. You stand at what is now our grave, but it used to be an altar. Those ancient peoples of old Galar and Soan came to us and prayed for our guidance and assistance, but when we turned our backs to them, they returned the favor. See how our shrine withers from neglect? Fewer and fewer people came. Occasionally, some would have noble intent and we helped them, but far more came with visions of war and conquest. Them, we ignored. Soon after we were forgotten entirely. It was a peaceful time, though we grew restless.
Perhaps too restless, added Zamazenta.
Zacian nodded sadly. Indeed, too restless. Soon we grew weary waiting, and though our spirits could travel to any corner of the land, our bodies remained here, in wait for our next champion. It seemed our peoples had moved on entirely, until he showed up.
"Who?" I asked. Zacian looked away in shame.
Your hero, Zamazenta said in a low growl, is naught but a sham. He is the one who brough such destruction to the land, and yet he is the one your songs and stories sing praises of.
"That…that can't be true," Hop said, shocked.
He had found our sword and shield, Zacian continued, her voice bitter and harsh, and came to us with a tale of a dragon whose power threatened to consume the land. A terrifying beast that came from the tundra to the south. It had already felled the King of Bountiful Harvests and was attacking kingdoms to the south, decimating them with ease. It was exactly the valiant quest we had been awaiting. It seemed almost too good to be true. Despite him hailing from outside Galar and Soan, we accepted his bid quickly; he was a charming man with a silver tongue and a brilliant eye, and together, the three of us made our way south to confront the dragon. We found it, and we killed it. And we left heroes of the land. We asked if he wanted anything in return, but he only asked for us to come to his aid when he needed us again and let us walk free.
And so, it went on like that for little over a decade. He would come to our shrine and ask us to aid him in another valiant quest. Soon, he came to be known as the Wandering Hero. We traveled far and wide, fighting powerful rogues and villainous Pokémon alike. Nothing could stop us, and every time, the people treated us as heroes. Little did we know, however, that the entire time he had been planting the seeds of a plan that would come to fruition entirely with our aid.
The last time he came to us, he did not even need to ask us for his aid; we lept at the opportunity. He led us to the city that would soon be known to you as Hammerlocke, the capital city of Soan. He told us that the King there was a cruel man; that he was mad with power, and he threatened to overtake all the nations and destroy all who opposed him. He said he had a plan to depose the wicked king but needed us to ensure he succeeded. He filled our heads with stories of this king; what he had done and what he was planning to do. I know not if they were truths or lies. We would never find out, neither, because the moment we were in his throne room, we…
Zacian turned her head away from us in shame. She could not finish the sentence but Hop and I understood immediately. Zamazenta stood and walked over, resting his head on hers in comfort before turning back to face us.
We were about to strike the final blow, he said, but at the last moment, we paused. We realized that we looked upon nothing more than a man, broken and praying over the bodies of his comrades and partner Pokémon. I realized that I, the so-called Shield of Soan, was about to destroy the very nation I had come to protect. In that brief moment, the Wandering Hero took note of our weakness and called upon the dragon that would become the Black Hand. We had never seen this monstrosity before, but as it appeared before us, we were filled with an immense rage we had never known before. The Hero, his hand finally played, asked the dragon to bestow its power on us. The power you have today come to know as Dynamax Power.
The energy was intoxicating, Zacian said, her head rising again to meet our eyes. For a moment, we felt truly invincible. We are powerful, but the power that…horrible thing shared with us was intoxicating. And we were nearly ready to kill this man, and for naught but the stories the Wandering Hero had told us.
Zamazenta nodded morosely. It was a great and awesome power, he breathed, but one we knew all too well. The power that creates corruption, madness, violence, and death. This alien creature, whose make we had never seen and have not seen since, was filling us with a power that was all too…human. Disgusted, we cast off its power, vowing never to accept it, never to even be tempted by it. We made to defend the poor king, but before we could turn our backs on the Wandering Hero, he ordered the dragon finish the deed.
"I…I can't believe this," I whispered. Hop fell to his knees, lost in thought.
We tried to fight the Hero and his dragon, to atone for the sins we had just committed, but the shock and surprise of the calamity was enough for him to escape the throne room with the life he no longer deserved to leave, Zacian spat. The dragon attacked us, left us broken and bloody on the throne room floor while they went off to wreak havoc across the realm.
We were ashamed, Zamazenta sighed, but we were determined to right our wrongs. We gave chase, but the Wandering Hero had crippled our power. He still held our sword and shield, and as such, we could do little more than watch as he overtook the land.
As his wave of terror swept over the realm, the dragon grew more powerful. It radiates that powerful energy, and with all it destroys and consumes, the more powerful it becomes. Soon its power was enough to make thunder crash in the sky. Great storms accompanied the Hero on his unjust crusades. One by one, kingdoms fell to his stormy might.
"So, what happened on the Darkest Day?" Hop asked, his voice barely higher than a whisper.
The Black Hand became the Black Hand, Zacian said simply.
"You mean…" I muttered.
I do, she replied. It had been nearly two years since the day we brought about the end of Soan, and each day, the dragon grew more and more powerful. Its intoxicating power bled into the Wandering Hero and his other Pokémon. He must have thought himself a god at this time. But enough power had amassed, the dragon transformed. It grew a hundred-fold into a hand that eclipsed the sun. We showed you this in your dreams.
"I did," I said. "It was…it was terrifying."
Truly, Zamazenta agreed. By then, we had joined forces with a small group of rebels, those who chose to cast off the power the dragon had been creating and fight back. Two brothers in particular bonded with us. You have seen them too, in those selfsame dreams.
"The Champions?" Hop asked.
Yes, he said warmly. They knew the only way to even stand a chance against these demons was to retrieve the sword and shield, and so we stormed Hammerlocke on that day. The journey itself was successful, and we made it all the way to the castle when we were found out. In an effort to show his true power, and to finish us off for good, the Wandering Hero bade the dragon to unleash its full power. And then the sky went black.
"This was at the ruins," Hop asked, "wasn't it?"
We do not ever wish to return there, Zacian growled. Upon the transformation, this Dynamax power encompassed the entire realm. Pokémon all across the region began to grow in size, absorbing the power and running rampant, drunk with power that they could not hope to control. My brother and I knew that this was our only chance; we had to find our sword and shield and put a stop to this once and for all. In the ruins of the castle, our party stumbled upon the Hero, mangled and broken, cast aside as a prop. He repented and showed us to where the sword and shield were, and we left him to die.
Once again at our full power, we went to slay the beast, Zamazenta said. Our companions and their friends fought valiantly, and after a vicious battle where we were both terribly wounded ourselves, we felled it. We dragged its bones far from Hammerlocke and left them to crumble to dust in a cave. Thinking our duties complete, we ran. We ran from the destruction that was largely due to our own negligence and misplaced trust, and we vowed to let our blood continue to run out, never again help humankind. We ran away to die. We did not deserve any glory or recognition for what we did.
The two stopped speaking and looked to the granite slab nearby us. My brain felt like it was drowning, barely able to focus on one thing the beasts said, let alone all of it. Hop had now fully sat on the long grass and held his head in his hands. I glanced around and saw Sonia awkwardly watching us from afar, sitting with her back on a tree at the edge of the path. She waved hopefully, but quickly put her hand down as I could only respond with a grimace.
"But wait," Hop said suddenly. "You're still here!"
Alas, Zamazenta said, much happened in our absence. Stories must be told, songs must be sung, and our accomplishments, though we did not think they deserved note at the time, were still celebrated. Statues were made of us to guard over the bones of the dragon and to serve as a warning for all that would oppose the might of Galar, Soan, Glim, and Armour, the homes of our little band of rebels. Many monuments to the battle on the Darkest Day were made, and most have since crumbled to nothing or covered by either the hands of time or the hands of men.
"Right," Hop said. "But the stories of the Darkest Day are still told and you're not in them. What gives?"
Zacian chuckled, though there was little humor in her voice. Well, my friend, there was one thing we did not account for. We left the Wandering Hero to die but die he did not. And even though he no longer had the aid of the black hand, he had the aid of powerful armies that he had amassed with it. No one was there to see the Black Hand transform from the dragon; any who did perished in the ensuing battle. Anyone who questioned this faced inquisition and death. Such was the eventual fate for our companions. After that, he sent his men to ensure that we were truly dead. They found our bodies decaying here, and they took our sword and shield as proof of their victory. Without them, we cannot return to our physical forms. This wandering Hero scrubbed any unruly detail out of the story of the Darkest Day and made himself the champion that united the realm as one. Soon, his amended story became the one people remembered, the one people told their children to put them to bed, and the kingdom flourished in the generations since.
"So, the hero just…got away with it?" I asked.
He was a king by then, Zamazenta sighed. Be it just or not, he makes and enforces the laws of the land. His descendants continued to tear our names away from history until we were little more than a footnote in books long since shelved and stored away.
"That's awful," Hop murmured.
And with the lessons of our story hidden away, the Black Hand has returned, and is no doubt amassing power again, Zacian stated.
"Well, that's not technically true," Hop countered. "Eternatus, er, the dragon that will be the Black Hand, is locked away and in safe hands."
"You really think Chairman Rose is 'safe hands?'" I asked bitterly.
"Well, Lee and Raihan—"
"Leon knew what was going on, and if this thing is as strong as Zacian and Zamazenta said, Raihan's gonna need to be a lot better of a Dragon Tamer than even he knows!" I interrupted.
"I—you're right," Hop sighed.
Nothing is strong enough to capture the Black Hand, Zamazenta warned. Not at its full power. We must put an end to it before we give it chance to gain that power again. We do not like to put our faith in humankind, but we beseech you—
"Find the sword and shield, call you back to life, become the new champions of Galar," I finished.
In a manner of speaking, yes, Zacian said with a smile.
"No pressure, then," Hop chuckled, looking back to me. "Where can we find them?"
I regret that we cannot tell you, Zamazenta said sadly. They have been away from us for so long. It was taken by the Hero's men. I imagine they would be somewhere of great importance to the Hero. But know this. We will do all in our power to aid you in finding them. Though you may not always see or feel us, a piece of us is with you and can guide you.
"That's how you've been able to talk to us, isn't it?" I asked. Zacian nodded eagerly. "Well, I hope you can sniff 'em out with those noses, because I've got a couple ideas where we could look."
"Me too," Hop said with a nod.
"Of course, then we have to figure out how to even get to Eternatus," I groaned. "No doubt Rose is going to make that hell for us if we even try."
Provide our sword and shield, and nothing will be impossible, Zacian said, a hint or mischief in her voice. We have seen what you two are capable of. Now, when you have them, bring them to our altar. You see these two indents in the stone? Place our sword and shield there and we can become whole again. Then, maybe we will be able to right our wrongs and stop this foul creature for good.
"Quite a hefty task," Hop said.
We understand it is a lot, Zamazenta said gravely, but we feel the goodness in you and Gloria. We would not ask this of you if we did not know you were capable. Our power is fading. Maintaining our forms with spirit alone is a daunting task. Have you any other questions?
"A lot," I said, "But I still need to wrap my head around all this first."
Then we shall speak again, Zacian said, and she started to dissipate into a thin fog. Seek you our sword and shield. Hammerlocke, though it is not the Hammerlocke we knew, may still provide some answers. And she was gone, with Zamazenta dissipating slowly after without another word. The air around us began to thin, and in the distance, we could hear the tell-tale chirp of a Rookidee.
"Bloody hell, mate," Hop said after seconds of silence.
"You're not goin' to bow out on me this time, are you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Are you kidding?" Hop cried excitedly. "I've got the support of massively powerful legendary beasts! That's wicked!"
"Well, they're hardly infallible or anything," I muttered.
Hop deflated a little bit. "Yeah, that story was…wow."
"You two wrapping up?" Sonia called from her spot at the edge of the tree line. "Fog's getting pretty bloody chilly over here!" As she spoke a slight breeze rippled through off the water, cutting through our jackets. Sonia had a point. There wasn't much else for us here, so I gestured to Hop to follow me, and we made our way back to Sonia. "Any answers?" she asked as we walked up to her.
I glanced at Hop warily and he shrugged. "We've got a lot to talk about on our way back," I replied, and as we left the shrine, we launched into the tale that we were just told.
A/N: So. The one thing that has lived rent-free in my mind about the SWSH story is how or why the true nature of Zacian and Zamazenta were lost and covered up throughout history. In truth, stories have a way of warping, changing little by little through each retelling until only their broader strokes remain, but 'people forgetting elements of a story over the course of millennia' hardly makes for fun fiction, so here's a tin-hat conspiracy theory! We all love those, right? Ok I know you do, I'm on twitter and I see that shit all the time. So yeah. Everything was covered up, the hero is not what he seemed, and oddly enough, there seems to be an eerie similarity between the way both Darkest Days seem to be unfolding! HMMMMMMMM
Hope you liked the chapter! Next week's should be a bit lighter fare.
NEXT WEEK: THE CHALLENGE
