Inamorata
8.

She takes you home.

The one place she feels safest; where she was born and raised. Celestic is quiet. Peaceful and alienated from the world. Although you've never had the opportunity to stay here, you've always felt attached to the small village. It suits your desire for isolation; it suits a trainer. A trainer, the best kind of trainer, is always alone.

Naturally, they seek lonely villages, lonely Pokemon––lonely people.

Cynthia doesn't talk about Cyrus, but you know she knows. She knows his death has bothered you, to put it lightly. You aren't a murderer. You aren't a killer and, yet, somehow, without trying, you have become one.

Somewhere along the way, you have transformed into a bad person.

Does that make you great? Does that only confirm the amount of power and brilliance you possess? Is that a fact that you ought to celebrate?

You turn to Cynthia, half a mind to ask her, but quickly change your mind.

Telling her you loved her, the entire scene––it plays in your head over and over again. You picture her expression, how she smiled at you when your confession was finally out in the open. Cynthia is never one to judge, but you weren't sure if you were expecting her to admit the feelings were mutual. That she, too, loved you back.

That, in itself, must surely prove that you aren't a bad person.

Cynthia only has a heart for the good. The kind. It would go against the very fibre of her being to like a hateful person. She is a selfless, wonderful and sweet woman. And when she confessed her love for you, she did not hesitate. As has always been the case. From helping you train your Pokemon, to accepting you as the new Sinnoh Champion, to you kissing her for the first time, and now admitting her love, Cynthia has not once hesitated.

So, it comes down to that: the hesitation. The absence of it.

Because Cynthia doesn't have to think about whether she loves you, or whether she ought to love you. She simply does.

Realising this fact makes you kiss her. Cynthia is taken pleasantly by surprise, but you feel her smile against your lips, and you kiss her harder. You could kiss her for hours if you could. Just lock her and yourself away, where nobody can disturb you, and just kiss her. Just show her how wonderful, how perfect, she has been to you all of these years.

When you both arrive in Celestic, Cynthia takes your hand, and you recognise where you're headed.

The elder of Celestic owns the largest and the most ancient building in the village. It is easily noticeable. 'My grandmother has requested your visit,' Cynthia says lightly. She sounds dreamy; relaxed. 'She has something she wishes to show you.'

Initially, you're flattered and a little excited, but heat rises to your cheeks immediately when you consider your current situation. With the elder's granddaughter. 'Uh, Cynthia?'

Of course Cynthia is aware. She smiles. 'Trust me, she won't bat an eye. My grandmother is too fascinated in her studies to notice much else.' Before you can respond, Cynthia reaches the door and knocks. 'Just be yourself. And don't worry,' she laughs slightly, and places a hand on your shoulder. 'I'm here.'

You smile. 'I know.'

The door opens. Cynthia's grandmother looks exactly as you remembered, and she exclaims in joy at the sight of her granddaughter. 'Oh, you should have told me you'd be coming!' The two lock in a brief embrace. 'I would have prepared you some food.'

'Don't be silly. Anyway, I brought you a treat.' Cynthia presses a hand to your back, and you become the centre of attention.

The elder of Celestic smiles at you. 'Ah, yes. Our curious prodigy. Come on in. I have something you might like.'

You enter first. Stacks and stacks of books are scattered virtually everywhere around the house. A fire has been made in the living area, and an elderly man is seated in one of the chairs. He waves over, but doesn't communicate vocally. You watch as Cynthia comes over to him, and kisses his cheek, 'Hello, grandpa.'

The elder distracts you. 'Here,' she says.

An old, tattered folder is shoved into your hands.

'A fine, young gentleman gave me this. You might have met him: he goes by the name of Red.' You look at her. She grins. 'I thought so.'

Opening the folder, you approach the table. Inside are a few black-and-white photographs, as well as several reports and dairy entries written by scientists. Cynthia has come over to join you, and leans over your shoulder at what you're studying. You feel her presence and glance up at her briefly, then back to the photographs.

They depict a Pokemon, one infamous for its magnificent powers and impossibility to capture.

A clone.

'Mewtwo,' you murmur.

'The clone of Mew, from the Kanto region.' Cynthia's grandmother joins your side. 'Have you ever seen this Pokemon?'

'No,' you confirm. You pick up one of the reports.

It is a brief report, one discussing the awesome powers of Mewtwo, that it was their plan to design an indestructible and immortal Pokemon…

… and they succeeded.

A chill travels up your spine.

'I hope you're not tempting Dawn to get herself into any trouble,' Cynthia squeezes your arm.

'Oh, of course not! However, I'm sure she's tempted. Are you?'

You think about Giratina.

In a way, Mewtwo is inferior to such an amazing creature.

In a way, Mewtwo is superior.

Cynthia takes the report from your hands, and closes the folder. 'My friend has been through plenty. Although, we shall hang onto these.'

'We?' Her grandmother remarks. 'You're too obsessed with your myths to care about the legends.'

'Aren't they technically the same?' You ask. Cynthia smiles, but her grandmother responds.

'That depends on who you ask. If I say so myself, legends have more credibility behind them. Myths can be equally as credible too, but they're usually fictional beliefs. At least, in my experience of studying our Pokemon world, that has been the case.'

'Except for the fact the myths I'm researching are credible,' Cynthia interjects, 'I've seen the legendaries who create such myths. Dawn, you're partially correct, but, occasionally, there is a fine line between the two of them.'

'Well. I can't argue with a historian, can I?' The elder glances at you. 'Dawn, I hope you're staying this evening. It would be nice to feed you; we've spoken so many a-time, I've never had the opportunity to treat you.'

'That's very kind, but I––'

'It's all right,' Cynthia says. 'I'll stay too.'

You exhale, and smile. Already, you feel at home.

'Lovely. You two can settle in then.'

The view from your guest bedroom is generous. From where you're standing, you can see Mount Coronet. A mountain which changed your life forever; the first time when you really became a trainer, and a decent one at that. When you defeated not only Cyrus, but the Devil itself. Staring up at the great landscape, you still find yourself haunted.

Yet, the moment Cynthia comes up behind you, and wraps her arms around your waist, it all seems to fade away.

Leaning into her, your hold her hands at your stomach.

'Who was the man by the fire?'

'My grandfather. He's mute. He knows a fair amount of sign language, but when faced with guests, he… tries to avoid it.'

'Why?'

'Pride. Timidness. He likes people to think he has a voice.'

You frown. 'What happened?'

Cynthia tightens her embrace. She's quiet for a moment. 'Nothing really.' It's a whisper; vacant. You want to turn around and look at her properly, but she's holding you so firmly and, yet, so lovingly, you can't make yourself.

'There are things I want to ask you. A lot of things.'

'Oh?'

'About you. Where you came from.'

'I'm not particularly interesting, Dawn. I started off just like you.'

You don't argue. You respect Cynthia's reluctance to reveal her private life. After all, she would do the same for you as well.

Still…

'Cynthia?'

Her embrace loosens a little, and you take this opportunity to look at her. As always, her expression is happy. She smiles at you, and her smile is just innocent. Nothing has appeared more innocent to you now than Cynthia's smile. And it makes you love her all the more. She's too grateful for her own good.

'I can ask you anything, can't I?'

The smile doesn't disappear, but a shadow of reluctance passes her eyes. Regardless, Cynthia nods. 'I've never lied to you, Dawn. It is true: I began my training as an orphan, but so did many. But I did start just the way you did: a young teenager, with barely any knowledge at all about the Pokemon world. I learnt as I progressed.'

The orphan Rowan spoke about was spoken about highly. Perhaps there is more than Cynthia is letting on. 'Was Cyrus ever a friend to you?'

Cynthia looks puzzled. 'I don't understand what your concern is. Cyrus and I were more acquaintances than friends. He is… he was always quite a difficult man to get along with. And he was jealous. I've told you about him before.'

'I just need to know.'

You need to know what you have done. The repercussions. Whether you made a mistake, or did the right thing.

'He demanded why you wouldn't let him win. Before I…' Before I ended his life.

Cynthia's expressions softens. 'There is little point in worrying about the past.'

'I know. I…' You cock a brow. 'Says the historian.'

'There's the past, and then there's history, dear. Cyrus isn't history. He's just past. To me, he will always be that way.' She sighs, and her hands fall to your shoulders. 'Dawn, if I was worried about you, or what you had done, I would tell you. Many criminals and violent trainers lose their lives. Even innocent ones. Furthermore, you acted out in defence, and so there are no charges.'

'How did you know I was in trouble?'

'I didn't necessarily. I was returning to the Elite Four building, when I heard the explosion. You'll be surprised: a Pokemon's powers create an impact. The entire city was in devastation after Cyrus's influence.' She pauses, lowers her gaze. 'But I also know you. You're stubborn, and you would have gone to find him.'

You brings your arms around the back of her neck, and pull her into a soft embrace. Cynthia returns the affection at once.

'Are you okay?'

'Mhmm.' Closing your eyes, you bury your face into the crook of her neck, and try to simply erase everything Cyrus has done. Including his death. Cynthia is right: you aren't to blame––not really, and it was coming to him. And, surely, what's important is that Cynthia has stayed by your side. She hasn't rejected you. She has stayed.

That is something you'll never take for granted. Ever.

Her palm tenderly caresses your back, and she patiently waits for you to recover.

'I really liked you when I was younger.' You pull away slightly.

Cynthia smirks. 'I could kind of tell.'

A blush makes its way to your cheeks, and you cringe. 'Oh.'

'It's okay.' She kisses––of all places––your nose. 'It was endearing. Flattering, even. Nothing to be embarrassed about.'

'Did you like me too?'

She giggles, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 'Back then? I thought you were charming, and very cute. I suppose I never thought about you in that way until…' She inhales, and looks at you. Her eyes are so pale in this light. Beautiful. '… Until you went away. You left very soon after you fought me over the title of Champion. I always wondered why.'

You blink, amazed she even thought about your absence. 'I needed to discover more.' And: 'I had my reasons. I'm sorry I concerned you.'

'No matter. The past is past. I only wondered. I did miss you, though. You were––and still are––a passionate woman. Your absence was noticeable.'

'I had no idea.'

'You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Do you honestly believe I would have spent so much time with you, if I thought you were any less than what you are? Dawn, you had a gift from day one, and you were inspiring. You made an impact on me.'

This causes you to blush harder. Heart racing, you try to calm yourself down by looking away from her eyes. That does little to help, however.

She's laughing softly. 'My darling. You made an impact on everybody you met. Honestly, Flint wouldn't stop babbling about you for days. I actually felt a little jealous.' You look at her then, a smile reaching your lips. 'What?'

'You? Jealous?'

She shrugs. 'So, I had a crush too. Whatever.'

The woman is teasing you, you can tell, and you're grinning now. Sniggering at her. Before Cynthia can come to her defence again, you silence her with kisses.

Dinner with the family is calm, and there isn't any demand for conversation. Most of the time, you sit and listen to the conversations Cynthia and her grandmother share. The majority of their talks concern the Lake legendaries, and when her grandmother discusses how wonderful it would be to actually meet them, you smile to yourself.

Cynthia nudges your leg with hers, and you smile wider.

'Have you told Dawn about what you've discovered in our ruins?'

You raise your brows. Cynthia smiles sheepishly, 'Uh, no. We've had quite a lot happening since Dawn returned from her travels.'

'Be sure to tell her.' Cynthia's grandmother looks at you. 'I don't blame you if you find Cynthia's obsessive babbles tedious, but what she's found out is quite interesting.'

'Thanks for that backhanded compliment.'

'Of course.'

Cynthia looks over at you. 'I can show you later, if you like. Do you remember my previous theory that the orbs on the wall are of the three Lake spirits?' You nod. 'Well, I've considered the possibility that they could mean more than simply those three legendaries. It is all very exciting! And could lead us onto what, or who, created the universe. Is there truly a higher being, a Pokemon, which designed our world? The two of us met the being from the underworld. Who is to say there isn't one which guards the heavens?'

You're smiling. Cynthia getting lost in her own thoughts isn't something new to you. In fact, it's one of the reasons you were so drawn to her. Sometimes, Cynthia is so sucked up in her own world, she doesn't even notice who's arrived or left.

'But, then, maybe it is beyond our capabilities to come close to an understanding of this higher being. We're too finite. Too mortal to know anything at all.'

'Isn't design, in itself, evidence?' You suggest. 'How we have evolved, how lands are shaped, the way we live, how beautiful our world is––is it all deliberate, or mere accident?'

'Maybe both,' Cynthia's eyes are fond. 'Perhaps something caused such design, and has allowed things to go ahead independently. The domino effect.'

'Maybe that is planned too.' You can't tell what Cynthia's grandmother is thinking, but she's smiling. Happy. 'Every happening happens for a reason.' She glances at Cynthia, then at you. 'I have no doubt that my granddaughter found you for a reason, Dawn. Otherwise you wouldn't have become such a powerful trainer.'

Cynthia chuckles nervously. 'I am being awarded too much credit. Dawn did it all on her own.'

You're watching her while she speaks, and you think you wouldn't want anybody else. You really wouldn't. Cynthia is belittling her influence. You agree with her grandmother. Without Cynthia, you would not have achieved so much greatness. Nor would you have healed from your adventures. You owe her everything.

She's perfect.

Completely.

You look over towards Cynthia's grandfather, and you're surprised to find he has been observing you, or even studying. He smiles kindly, and you smile back.

Maybe it is so.

Maybe Cynthia finding you was for a reason. For many wonderful reasons.

For bringing you home.

'I asked her, one day, how her studies were progressing. For a whole year, all she could talk about was your successes.'

You look up from the photographs of Mewtwo's birth, surprised. Cynthia has disappeared upstairs, and you weren't expecting her grandmother to pay much attention to you after dinner. Yet, here she is, sitting beside you. She reaches over and slides over one of the scientist's diary entries, reading it briefly.

'I think you helped her believe in better. My granddaughter has always been an optimist, despite losing her parents at such a young age. Yet, she overcame that, and grew to love the very creature which destroyed her family. But you… you inspired something deeper. You were what made her go out and study the thing she loved so dearly.'

Forgetting about the photographs, you listen in silence.

'Unfortunately, Cynthia's sister wasn't so forgiving. She always struggled to like Pokemon, and, frankly, I did too. They killed my daughter and son-in-law, and so many other innocent lives. But, perhaps that is nature. Perhaps it was always meant to be. After all, if her parents weren't killed by Pokemon, I don't think Cynthia would have become a Pokemon Master. She needed a reason to forgive them, so she sought that reason.'

You're smiling vacantly.

'So she sought you.'

You drop your gaze to the table.

'And I'm relieved.'

Later, you find Cynthia at Celestic Ruins. She has been studying the inscriptions and drawings on the wall. When you come over, she acknowledges your presence by bringing an arm around your shoulders, but she's quiet. You lean into her side, think about her grandmother's words, and hold onto her.

The three orbs on the wall catch your attention.

'I thought they could also represent the other legendaries. For example, Entei, Raikou and Suicune, and trios like them. However, just now, I think it also represents mankind as well. Perhaps the mind––' she points to the top orb, '––the body––' to the left orb, '––and even the heart––' she ends at the right orb. They glow, almost sparkle. 'Or, earth, water and fire. Heaven, purgatory and Hell. All the ungraspable elements.'

Cynthia, you and Cyrus.

The three movements of the earth; the three elements.

Earth. Water. And Fire.

Heaven. Purgatory. Hell.

Love. Ambivalence. Hate.

Mespirit. Uxie. Azelf.

You kiss her. 'Come back with me.'

She pries her eyes from the orbs, looks at you, smiles. Cynthia finds your hand and squeezes.

Without hesitance.

'Anywhere with you.'

End.

author's note: This story means a lot to me. It has been an absolute pleasure to write about these two. Dawn, Cynthia and Cyrus really made the Sinnoh region, and Pokemon as a whole, for me, and I'm really glad I was able to write about them.

Thank you to everybody who has supported me with this piece of work. I hope you enjoyed the final chapter!

I might write a sequel, and turn the focus onto Cynthia instead (and her very Mulder-like speeches) but, for now, I'll leave it as is.

Until next time!