~ Chapter 65 ~

Tunnel to Celestic Town

"Celestic Town is an isolated, tiny little village located in the norther region of Sinnoh. It's not as far as Snowpoint City, but it's nestled within a small crater valley in the middle of the Mt. Coronet chain. Because of this, it's incredibly hard to get to, surrounded usually by fog, bad weather, and climbing hazards, as one must travel up the Mt. Coronet mountain chain to even reach the basin it sits in. In an attempt to drum up tourism, they opened up a Contest Hall in the small town. But it's special for another reason. Because of its size, isolation, and lack of visitors, it has remained largely unchanged since its foundation by the ancient Sinnoh Tribes. For as hard as it is to visit, it was a hub and veritable treasure trove for historians, researchers and archaeologists. Several were born, or lived within the town, one such professor was an old acquaintance of Professor Rowan, Professor Silas Yarrow, whom we had resolved to visit again once we reached the small town."

Sam and friends waited outside the Hearthome Cathedral as they waited for their surprising new benefactor.

Cynthia had messaged them the night before, requesting to meet them before the Cathedral the next day at noon. It was now a little past 12:30, and the summer's noon sun beat down hard on the group of teens as they waited.

They were surprised Cynthia had contacted them; for all they had met the former Sinnoh Champion only twice before—the second time was her coming to their rescue alongside Valentina.

Something in Sam wasn't surprised. Cynthia had been friends with Palmer, and once mentored under Professor Rowan, and even knew Sam's grandfather. Though Cynthia and Palmer were not as close as they had once been in their youth, it would make sense that, once Sam—the mutual factor between all of them—had popped up, that something would draw her back top her old friends and acquaintances.

A few minutes past half-past noon, Cynthia finally arrived. Smiling, smirking with all the confidence of a former Champion, with all of the friendliness of one's favourite aunt.

She greeted the teenagers and Pikachu warmly, and gestured for them to follow her.

When asked why the secrecy, urgency, and silence, she gently shushed Niya, and proceeded to lead the teenagers down to the side of the Cathedral, and down in the massive stone room that was once a supply cache centuries ago.

The room was last used as the waiting room during the Hearthome Tournament, and without all the people in the tournament down here, the room echoed more, and felt bigger.

It was darker than the last time Sam had been down here, as much of the lighting had been doused when the place wasn't in use.

Making sure they weren't followed, and that the room was empty, Cynthia had the teens congregate with her around the long, dark hallway that led to who-knows-where.

"This is the tunnel to Celestic Town," explained Cynthia, "I'm sorry for the secrecy, but I needed you here without the watchful eyes of Interpol or Team Galactic. And I don't hold as much power as I once did, in the Pokémon League. Most of what I can pull is clout, reputation and old favours."

"What's wrong?" asked Sam; the mention of Team Galactic had him worried.

"I am from Celestic Town, I was born there, but moved with my family to Twinleaf Town when I was young," explained Cynthia, "My grandmother still lives there. Nilama is her name, but everyone calls her Mama Lama. She's head of the small town there, and comes from a long line of High Priestesses who still worship and deify the Legendary Pokémon of Sinnoh."

"You think Team Galactic's in Celestic trying to infiltrate the town like they did with Eterna City and get what they need to capture the Legendary Pokémon," concluded Niya.

Cynthia nodded. "My grandmother's a tough old woman, but I haven't heard from her in almost two months. No messages get through, and recent heavy fog has engulfed that part of Mt. Coronet, making any kind of travel in or out of Celestic Town dangerous, and almost impossible. But few people know about this tunnel—no one uses it. Except the people of Celestic Town."

"Team Galactic, you think?" asked Jeremy.

Cynthia nodded again. "It wouldn't be the first time they tried something like this, as you know."

"You're sending us to investigate, aren't you?" asked Alyssandra.

Cynthia laughed. "You're quick. Yes, that's exactly what I'm asking. Check on Celestic Town, and report to me if you find anything—if you find my grandmother, she'll know how to get ahold of me. Something's stirring in Sinnoh, and I don't like this bad feeling I have. The Pokémon League is busy combating the Black Claw Gang, and Interpol is too busy trying to infiltrate Team Galactic's Headquarters to worry about much else. So I leave this up to you four—you're the best chance we have. You're experienced at dealing with Team Galactic and their schemes."

"Is there anything we should be aware of?" asked Sam finally.

"Two things," warned Cynthia, "The first, is that you should also look for the house of one Professor Silas Yarrow. He's an old friend of Professor Rowan's, and his research on the old Sinnoh Tribes, and the Legendary Pokémon would likely be a target for Team Galactic's scientists and Admins. Make sure he's alive."

Sam looked at his friends, but said nothing.

Niya realised what Sam had. They had met Silas Yarrow before, in the caves of Mt. Coronet; the odd, blue-haired man who spoke to himself, using a small recording device. They said nothing about this to Cynthia…something was giving them the feeling that that man was not who he said he was now.

"What's the second thing?" asked Niya.

"My grandmother is…traditional, and old. Sometimes that makes her a little abraisive. She's incredibly spiritual so…she can be a bit…tough. Have patience with her," smiled Cynthia apprehensively—there was worry in her voice. Not that her grandmother wasn't alive, but that she might eat Sam and his friends alive.

The teens, already ready to set off on the road—as Cynthia had told them to be without saying why—they got ready to make their way down the long, dark tunnel. Flashlight's out, and ready to go, they turned dutifully to Cynthia.

"Good luck," she warned with a smile, "And be safe. You've got my undying faith. All of you."

With that, Sam, Niya, Jeremy and Alyssandra—with Pikachu on Jeremy's shoulder—made their way down the long tunnel. It got darker, colder, mustier, and wetter the farther down they went.

The walls and floors were made of seamless stone, as if they had been cut and carved out the mountain.

They didn't know how deep underground they were, or how long this trip would take. Their only sense of time was their Pokétch, who told them what time it was outside of the pitch-black hallway.

And so the trip to Celestic Town went.

Alone save for each other, cold, in the dark, the smell of must and antiquity filling their nostrils.

It was an arduous trip; they slept in the narrow tunnels, ate and lived within them. It was almost a week before a bright light shone at the end of the tunnel, marking the exit to Celestic Town.

As the group exited the tunnel, covering their eyes from the harsh sunlight, the first light they'd seen in days, they frowned, as they looked down on the town below, and saw it swarming with Team Galactic grunts.

"Cynthia was correct," frowned Niya, "Team Galactic has taken over."

"We'll need to be careful then. Let's wait until nightfall before we head down to the town, they'll be less likely to spot us."

Everyone agreed, and retreated back into the well-hidden tunnel.

They camped out by the entrance, sitting there, passing the day silently. Jeremy was playing games on his Pokétch, Sam and Alyssandra took the opportunity to nap, not realizing in their sleep they had reached out and grazed hands—something Niya noticed, and had to control herself not to giggle about.

Niya on the other hand, spent her time on look out duty, thinking of the fight to come. She could feel the tension rising, and Team Galactic was nearing completion of their goals. They were getting bolder, but their strikes were becoming fewer and far between. The less they dispatched from their Headquarters, and the more they drew deeper into it, the closer they became to attaining the Legendary Pokémon of Sinnoh.

Her aunt had told her stories, of the ancient Pokémon.

The Three Lake Guardians were hatched from the same egg, created by the Creator Pokémon, and were tasked with gifting humanity emotions, knowledge, and willpower.

The Creator also created three other Pokémon.

One to lord over Space.

One to lord over Time.

And the third was banished for its violence and wickedness, ruled over the evil in the world. It was said it was banished to a world of its own, so it could harm no one else.

The Creator Pokémon then shaped the world from atop what would become Mt. Coronet, using its thousand arms.

Could these legends really be true?

There was proof that the Ancient Tribes had existed, and had worshipped these Pokémon. Niya and her friends had seen enough proof throughout their travels.

But had these Pokémon they claimed to worship actually existed?

Niya rummaged through Sam's pack, and pulled out the small, ornate box with the tiles they had found in the Solaceon Ruins.

There was still the mystery of these tiles. The Solaceon Tribe had been known for being strong in arane and mystic arts. They used these arts to create the Spiritomb.

Had they used these arts to craft these tiles?

What did they mean?

What were they?

Why could no one crack the code?

Niya gently opened the lid, laying out several tiles as she began to fiddle with them.

Nothing happened, though she didn't expect it to.

She sighed as she scrambled the tiles, and rearranged them. Once more she expected nothing to happen…and yet, when she looked up from the tiles, it went from early afternoon to pitch black outside.

Niya jumped, scattering the tiles once more, and as she blinked, the time turned back to where it had been before she started playing with the tiles.

She froze for a moment, then quickly began squirreling the tiles back into the box, slammed it shut, and locked it tight before putting it back in Sam's bag.

She wasn't touching those tiles again for a long time.

It was another few hours before the sun went down.

It was still sunset, and the sky burned orange beyond the high mountain walls the made the bowl-shape of the valley, but the sun had sank beneath the peak of the highest edge of the crater, leaving the small village below in darkness.

The lights hadn't come on yet in the town below, so the group had a few minutes to scramble down the side of the mountain as quietly as they could and make it to the town in the cover of darkness.

They made it just in time, as several lampposts flared to life, a small flame burning within them. Lights in homes turned on, and the city glowed with a faint life again.

They were pressed up against the side of a house, looking out for patrolling Team Galactic grunts.

As they tried to make a beeline for the Pokémon Centre, Alyssandra stopped them.

"Guys, look at this," she whispered.

She pointed to a small sign on the side of the house next to a mailbox.

"Doctor Silas Yarrow, PhD, Professor of Archaeology, Pokemonthropolgy, and History," read Sam in a hushed tone, "This is his house."

Everyone nodded. They knew what they needed to do next.

They tested the door…it swung right open. There was no lock, and the inside seemed dark.

They gently snuck inside and quietly closed the door behind them. They locked and deadbolted the door, then quietly made their way around the house to the windows in each of the rooms, and gently closed the curtains.

It was not a big house. There was a small sitting room off the main entrance. To the left of the entrance, a small kitchen and a table with two chairs.

The sitting room had a comfy looking armchair a squashy looking couch. There was no TV, but a radio sat where a television might now adays.

A cart of alcohol was pushed off to the corner, and it looked like it had seen heavy use.

Off the main sitting room was a small study-library. It was filled with shelves, had a massive oak desk in the middle. Down the hallway was a bathroom on the right, and a small spartan bedroom

Even with the curtains closed, the group dared not turn on the lights. They settled for a small reading lamp in the middle of the room, and their flashlights. They couldn't risk a particularly attentive grunt—or worse yet, a Team Galactic Admin with a vendetta—noticing the curtains were drawn, and that light was filtering through the cracks.

They noticed the place looked rather clean, yet dusty. As if it had not been lived in for a while. The water was still on, Jeremy noticed, after a sweep of the basement, the kitchen left spotless, yet all the food in the fridge had been left to rot.

Niya noticed that several rows of shelves had been emptied, and their contents either on the floor, on the tables of the study. Books were spilled open all over the place, some had pages torn out…but there were large enough gaps in the shelves that entire volumes seemed to be missing completely.

Someone had ransacked this place and then…went to the trouble of making it look clean, normal. Like nothing had happened. Like nothing was wrong. Like the professor had merely up and left, to go out into the field and do more hands on studies, as he was wont to do according to Professor Rowan.

But small things here and there showed this to be a lie.

The water was still on. The food in the fridge had gone old, but the kitchen had been meticulously clean. All of these books were strewn everywhere—many were missing and others missing pages.

Not to mention, the door was unlocked.

No…something wasn't right here; Sam had a sinking feeling that Team Galactic had hand a hand in the Professor's disappearance.

This theory was proved when Sam passed a picture on the wall. Silas Yarrow was in the picture, standing next to several children. Three, beaming, round young boys. Teenagers it looked like. All of them dressed ready to hike, the fain whisps of facial hair on most of their faces, something seemed familiar about these children, but Sam couldn't place it.

The fourth boy was slim, skinny, guant looking. He too was dressed in hiking clothes, but he frowned, not looking anywhere near as happy as the other people in the picture.

Silas Yarrow was a big bellied man with a spruce moustache, a thick beard, and wore an explorer's hate, brown khakis, a grey shirt, and a thick vest. A huge pack was on his back, a set of crooked, severely taped glasses sat on his crooked nose.

He looked nothing like the "Silas Yarrow" they met in Mt. Coronet.

But the blue haired gaunt boy in the picture did.

"What the hell's going on?" Sam asked himself, as he friends scoured the rest of the house.

Niya and Jeremy browsed the volumes, but Alyssandra searched Yarrow's bedroom.

Sam turned around when he heard a rustling in the hall. "Hello?" he called.

Everyone froze, looking at Sam, but they stayed silent as not to alert the potential person in the house that there were anymore than a single person here.

Sam went out in the hall, slowly, grabbing the fire poker by the fireplace for self-defence.

The next thing Sam knew there was a whoosing sound, a resounding pain in his face.

He woke up in a different house.

More traditional, like something you'd see in rural Johto.

There was a small few feet of exposed dirt floor, with a mat, where guests left their shoes before stepping up on the raised tatami floor. Several sliding shoji screens closed off the other rooms in the house. There was a small tokonoma alcove that housed a small shrine. The shrine bore stone and steel figures, decorated with diamonds, pearls, citrine and a few other gems Sam couldn't discern. But he did know the shrine was similar to to the ones he'd seen in the ancient Sinnoh ruins throughout the region.

A small irori off to the side of the room held a small fire that caused a teakettle to bubble and boil. The kettle whistled as a small, short, wrinkled woman with snow white hair began grabbed it, and poured it into several small cups.

Sam sat up, having been tucked into a small bedroll.

His face hurt, his eye ached, his face felt swollen, his nose hurt too, crooked, and he could see dried blood on his clothes.

Alyssandra was there, easing him up, and passing him a cup of tea.

Sam sipped the tea, and then turned and faced his friends, and the frowning old woman who sat tending a pot she had recent hung over the fire.

"The others already explained," she stated before Sam could get a word out, "I'm sorry about your…well your whole face; the nose, and the eye. It's broken—the nose that is. The eye will mend sooner. I hit you with my club…and then you fell to the ground and I realized you weren't part of Team Galactic."

Sam nodded and sipped his tea again. "I might've mentioned that if I was conscious," he added sarcastically under his breath.

The old woman snorted. "Ha! Such spirit," she exclaimed, "Ever since they dragged Yarrow away, I have to keep an eye on my own people."

"Your people?" asked Sam.

"I am Nilama, Chieftess of the Celestic Tribe, High Priestess of the Creators," she explained, then she turned to Sam and gave a wide, toothy smile, "Most call me Mama Lama."

"You're Cynthia's—" started Sam.

"Grandmother, yes. We established this while you were unconscious," she said pointing to Jeremy, Alyssandra, Pikachu and Niya, "I know, too, why you're here. You've got your work cut out for you. They're everywhere here, but they've ransacked Yarrow's house, and they've taken over the Temple Shrine completely. My people can't pray to the Creator Pokémon, and I can't tend to their shrines…and I know those bastards are defiling them."

Sam damn near choked on his tea, nearly spilling it all over him and the bedroll.

Nilama seemed not to notice. "But I suppose before we deal with any of that, you've got many, many questions to ask me. So I shall entertain them for as long as I am able."

"How—"

"The Celestic Tribe never died out," smirked Nilama, "No. None of the tribes really ever died out…they just…assimilated into a new culture. Being buried in this valley has helped us endure. Some tribes tried after Arceus banished us from the Holy Mountain. The Hearthome Tribe tried to, the cathedral is a testament to their ability to uphold their piousness…but that's mostly been lost now. The Solaceon Tribe dabbled in their dark magics and their wicked gods before returning to the Creator Pokémon's light. But the Celestic Tribe, the priestly tribe, was the only one to be a constant in the eyes of Arceus. For our faithfulness, we were granted powers and gifts in times of need…I'm sure you've heard the legend of what happened to the doomed ruler of Hearthome when he tried to unify Sinnoh."

Sam had. He had lost two entire legions in the mountain mist of Mt. Coronet.

Five thousand soldiers lost forever.

Something clicked in Sam just then.

"The fog's not natural," stated Aurelio, popping out of nowhere, "I figured that out years ago."

"Correct," nodded Nilama, "A wise and astute observation."

"Pardon?" asked Sam, as he had not been the one to speak just then.

Nilama smiled. "Hm?"

"Sam didn't say anything," stated Alyssandra confused, "I think he's confused as to who you responded too. Unless you read minds?"

"No. It seems I'm just confused," she smiled, knowingly, "Just a confused old woman."

Mama Lama seemed like someone who knew more than she let on, and when she did let on, it was in the cheekiest way she could find.

"Can she see me?" wondered Aurelio, "She always was a crazy woman. I'm glad to see she hasn't changed. She was a breath of fresh air, old Mama Lama."

Nilama chuckled. "Of course." That was all she said, leaving everyone confused.

"What—" started Sam.

"I can tell you their names," replied Nilama pre-emptively, "Arceus is the Great Creator. Palkia is the Great Dragon of Space. Dialga is the Great Dragon of Time. The final dragon is a being claimed to be wicked and evil…it is a troubled creature, misunderstood, that represents the chaos of the world and nature. This Pokémon is known as Giratina, the Great Dragon of Chaos and Discord. The Lake Protectors are Uxie, Azelf and Mespirt and they are the go-betweens for humanity and the Great Dragons and Creator."

"Why—" this time it was Jeremy who started to speak.

"We do not share our secrets readily. Too many would come here, seeking power, seeking glory. We have spread our priestesses throughout the world, seeding stories that these Legendary Pokémon are but figments of an ancient world's imagination," explained Nilama seriously, "Too many have already pursued the rumours as fact as it is. Look at Team Galactic, for example. Only one truly learned our secrets, Professor Silas Yarrow. He is one of us, but he kept only the dangerous, sacred information for himself. Only that which would not conflict with the Creators, or our lives here, was shared with the world in his studies."

Nilama stood up, her cane—still spotted with bits of Sam's nose blood—clacking hard against the tatami mats of the floor as she walked.

"Now we had best hurry," she declared, massaging her back, "Professor Yarrow was taken by Team Galactic to the Shrine, and he needs rescuing. You four are going to help me force Team Galactic out of here."

"Are you feeling up to it Sam?" asked Alyssandra.

"You're damn right he is!" cried Aurelio, "Celestic Town is a treasure, a gem. It needs protecting."

Sam nodded, as he knew Nilama would respond to his grandfather, and he needed to cover her boldness.

"A wonderful answer," laughed Nilama. She grabbed a small woollen, knit cloak and put on her slips. She threw open the sliding door, and waited for the four teens to file out into the darkened streets of Celestic Town.

Team Galactic was going down.