finally onto this next arc. Two more still.

Arc II, The Plate of Time

Chapter Twenty-Three:

The Bygone Dream

"How dare you?!"

The human stood across from me, his eyes as round and dark as the new moon. The Pokéball which he had thrown at me lay open upon the floor of my palace. The ground was shaking. We were surrounded by a glowing vortex of wind, debris, and star matter.

I stared back at him, incredulous. Frightened.

Definitely agitated.

"So you are a Pokémon," he said, as if he hadn't expected any better but was still disappointed. Keeping his eyes on me, he slowly reached for the Pokéball, an ancient device that evolved technologically each year, and stored it in his bag. "Nobody has known for sure. Not until today."

I was rendered immobile. "How did you get to the immortal dimension?"

"I have no idea," he admitted. "I wasn't looking for the way. But once I saw you, I knew where I was."

The swirling mass of chaos I had conceived — a primal reaction in response to my panic and acrimony — around my palace slowed and then disappeared altogether. The wind lowered my hair and robes back down. Then we stood in utter silence, reflecting in the tranquility of this curious and extraordinary situation.

"You speak my language."

"The barriers of language are nonexistent to me," I said, unsure why I was advancing the conversation.

The young man hesitated. "Can I come closer to you?"

"No—"

But he was already ten steps nearer to me. I beheld him with mute fear, having never been so near a human being before. I could smell the pine in his hair. His clothes were wool, and so was the stitched satchel around his chest.

"Do not c-come any closer!"

He touched my cheek, cementing me where I stood. I trembled fiercely.

"You aren't a human, but..." he began dubiously, tilting his head. Then he lifted a good length of my hair in his hand, caressing the white tresses with his thumb. He looked truly perplexed. "You are indistinguishable from us. Others would call me mistaken, but I know without any specter or shadow of doubt that you are Arceus."

I slapped his hand away. "Leave," I whispered.

His eyes softened. "Why are you afraid of me?"

The Alterstone was a mistake.

This young man made my heart beat too erratically. If one innocent human made me feel this petrified, how could I possibly live amongst them? I had sacrificed the seventeen pillars to a power that I would never be brave enough to use. At least, certainly never courageous enough in the face of people who gazed at me like this.

The young man saw my bracelet. "What is this? It's magnificent."

"It's…" I faltered. The stone cast its shimmering blue light on our faces. "The Alterstone."

"I've never seen a sapphire shine like this. It's the clearest blue I have ever seen." He took my hand and observed it from each possible angle. Inclining his head again, he glanced up at me. "It's the exact same shade of your eyes. What does the stone do?"

My heart drummed in my ears. His warmth crept up my arms, submerging me in its tide.

I yanked my hand from his grasp and turned away.

"Leave," I repeated, hoping that he would walk away and I would never be this close to a human again. I vigorously rubbed my wrist where he had touched it. "Humans — mortals — shouldn't be here. Go back to where you live. Tell of your glory. Let them draw me on their walls and silly portraits, and let them tell erroneous stories of—"

"Wait!" The young man watched me, his longing apparent. He held a leather sketchbook, bound by loose strings. His fingers were dark from his slab of charcoal. "Let me stay here with you. Only for as long as you allow me. Then when you've grown sick of my presence, I'll go. But let me paint you for who you are."

He wanted to draw me?

"Why do you want to draw me?" I asked him, warily regarding him.

"From where do you want to hear my response?" the young man said, grinning. "My head or my heart?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Your head, first."

"Because everything so far that has been written has been false," he said. "You are unlike anything that has ever been told, documented, or drawn. Perhaps, if you allow me here, even briefly, I might change that. I could go back to from where I came and tell them the truth. Your truth. They'll call me a liar. But I know what I've seen and what I've heard. It will give me the strength to continue with your legacy."

A brief shiver passed over me. "And your heart?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Because you're beautiful."

"I h-have far more important matters to attend to, mortal—!"

"Please," he said, clutching his sketchbook tighter. "A lifetime for me is only a breath for you. But that breath of yours — let it be mine to keep."

"LEAVE!"

Adam refused to move. His hand shook with the weight of the Pokéball in his grasp. The entire immortal dimension must have been trembling, judging how we both were unable to stand on our own feet.

"I am so sorry," he said, horrified. "Arceus, please —"

"I am no object!" I yelled. My collarbone felt damp. When I wiped my face, my hand came back wet too. "For every moment I have turned my back to you, trusting you, have you been only thinking about throwing that...that horrible device at me?! I will not be prisoner to the world I created!"

"No, I—" He dropped the Pokéball to the ground. It rolled across the marble floors and down the steps leading to my throne, finally settling in a dark corner near the gates. "I don't know what came over me."

"You treat me as if I'm…" I was overcome with tears. "...some sort of Pokémon!"

The reality of the truth set like an immovable boulder between us. I felt more idiotic than I ever had before. And the guilt painted on his face was unmistakable. In an attempt to cover my disgrace, I covered the Alterstone, willing it to be gone forever.

"This is my own fault," I muttered. A darkness passed over me. The sun had disappeared from the immortal dimension. "I should have never tried to be something that I'm not. How foolish was I — offering my love to a human? "

Adam began unclipping the other five Pokéballs from his waist. They all clattered to the floor. "Arceus, I will rid of these forever," he swore, his voice wavering. "I will forget the life that I had if only you let me stay here forever — with you."

"I am no human," I said quietly. "You'll be dead before my next breath. A life with me is impossible."

He embraced me, clutching tightly as if he had never held me before. I could feel his fingers pressing into my shoulder blades. His warmth was familiar and comforting. The sweet smell of pine had lingered on his hair and clothes even after all the time he had spent with me. And I knew that his promises were genuine.

But I saw the blue glower of the Alterstone upon him, and knew that I was the one caught in a lie.

"Leave this place," I whispered.

Sudden tightness gripped my chest. Gasping, I launched upward. I coughed and retched, feeling like I had been drowning. When I leaned forward, only my elbows keeping me steady, I saw tears land upon the grass.

So that's what dreaming felt like.

Confounding myself, I staggered to my feet. I had remained unconscious in the middle of an emerald forest. I stood under the delicate shade of a willow tree, tall and ancient. All around me, all that I saw was misty green, from the vines around my safe haven to the canopies of leaves above my head. This place was quiet and certainly far removed from any society.

The Plate of Space was laying underneath the willow's roots, well hidden from view. I stumbled over to it and picked it up. It was undamaged, except for where Luce had cracked its surface.

Luce!

Had he perished under the weight of the mountain? How long had I been here?

The world didn't seem to be in mortal peril, so things must have been good for the most part. I prayed to myself that, wherever they were, Aurelio and Latios were safe. Holding the Plate close to me, I wished and wished for that. Luce may have been slowed down, or preferably dead, but I knew Grimmwolfe, Philippa, and the rest of the Antebureau were out there.

I leaned against the tree, already feeling like my breath had been lost to the wind.

"So this is how you haunt me," I muttered, my eyes closed. "As if sending your grandson hundreds of years later wasn't enough."

I would bet that the asshole was winking at me from his grave.

I wanted to remain there for a thousand years, call it a millennia, and head home. But the voices in the trees were calling me, and they sang about the storms of danger. So I washed my face in the water of the lake beneath the willow, let myself dry under the sun, and weaved my own path through the trees, headed to where I was needed most.

End of Chapter Twenty-Three