Cynthia Shirona is having a bad day.
Her secretary spilled coffee on the mountain of paperwork she had painstakingly cleared, her laptop decided to break down in the middle of an important league meeting and now, at the ungodly hour of 3 am, her phone has been ringing non-stop.
And it's only Tuesday.
She picks up the phone on the fifth ring with a growl.
"Cynthia Shirona. How may I hel –"
"I think my brother has manifested the mark."
Cynthia halts. Her mind spins. She recalibrates, remembers to breathe and then asks briskly, "where are you? Are you with him currently?"
"Yeah, I'm with him. And we're at La Rousse right now, at the mansion." Aaron's voice, usually smooth, cracks. "He's not waking up. And his hand is emitting a very bright flash."
"Show me a picture of the mark."
"Alright, give me a second."
Cynthia hears the sound of his phone fumbling around. "Okay, done."
She checks the picture that he has sent her, her heart pounding so loudly that she can almost hear it.
Goddamn it, she's a Champion. She spearheads an entire region. She needs to get her shit together or else it will really hit the fan.
After that pep talk, the photo loads and everything she has thought earlier simply evaporates.
Yeah, she's a Champion.
But she's not infallible.
There, on the hand of Aaron's brother… The many curves formed an unsymmetrical circle, glowing radiantly… That sigil.
There's no doubt about it.
It's the mark.
As the Champion, Cynthia is duty-bound to know all about it. And also sworn to secrecy about the details unless it takes place. She has known it will, someday.
She just never expected it to happen in her lifetime.
"Cynthia? Are you still there?" Aaron's voice comes from the other line.
"Yeah." She answers on auto-pilot. "I'll call back."
"Wait! What do I do about Drew?" Aaron asks hastily.
Right. His brother.
Cynthia isn't usually a scatterbrain. But clearly the incident has unnerved her enough to throw her off her balance.
Now she's teetering on the edge, where any move can make her fall.
"Just… Don't do anything yet. He'c unconscious but he shouldn't be in any pain. If he wakes up, check on his condition and make sure he's physically healthy. And for Arceus's sake, Aaron, do not let anyone else know of this."
"Okay. He – he'll be fine, right?"
"I don't know." Cynthia replies honestly. "But I'll do everything I can."
She hangs up, and dials the Hoenn League's emergency line.
Steven Stone, unlike her, picks up on the first ring.
"Cynthia, what's wrong? You could have called me norma –"
"Cynthia Shirona, Champion of Sinnoh, officially requests for an emergency international league conference. All other regional Champions will be called soon." Cynthia intervenes, adopting her professional, I'm-a-Champion-and-not-taking-any-bullshit tone. "The topic at hand…"
She hesitates.
"The topic at hand concerns the Mark of the Arcana. I humbly ask for your cooperation."
Stone-cold silence.
Then.
"Fuck."
Steven never curses. He's the perfect epitome of a flawless gentleman.
Cynthia wasn't sure he even knew how to curse.
So she can't help it. She throws her head back and barks out a laugh.
Perhaps she isn't the only one having a bad day.
No one cares about the seventeen-hour-long meeting the six regional Champions of the Parelle Union had alongside all the head professors, so to skip right to the weary conclusion, they had all finally, finally decided on an international wide broadcast to locate and assemble those with the mark.
Since Cynthia first sounded the alert, the de facto hotspot is the Sinnoh region; all those with the mark are required to gather at the Sinnoh League.
After wrapping up the tedious, draggy, completely inefficient meeting that lasted fifteen hours longer than it really needed to – thanks to countless squabbling and disagreement and going round and round in circles; at one point Alder suggested the same idea five times but paraphrased, until Lance had the guts to crudely asked him if he had gone senile and then the whole meeting had dissolved into a chaotic clash between the two until a fatigued Cynthia stepped in – Cynthia is utterly, completely and impossibly drained.
It was an online conference since it will take the other Champions, particularly those from distant regions, a few hours at least to fly here, yet it felt as draining as a physical meeting. No, it was even more exhausting, considering that Cynthia couldn't be there to break the two apart when they started arguing.
And now, Cynthia is left to deal with the fallout.
Great.
At least Steven pitied her and offered to draft up the emergency broadcast message; meanwhile, Cynthia needs to prepare for a venue large and accommodative enough for all the Champions and Elite Four and regional professors and the soon-to-arrive Arcana. Cynthia needs to alert all the Gym Leaders of the current situation, Cynthia needs to arrange for transportation regarding how the Arcana are going to get to the Sinnoh League and then have the methods approved by the regional Champions, Cynthia needs to coordinate between all the other Champions as she has somehow found herself forefronting this entire operation and Cynthia fucking needs to get some sleep.
But she can't.
She needs to accomplish all that within half a day, at most.
Oh, and don't forget she needs to redo that aforementioned mountain of paperwork.
Her phone rings.
She's really starting to hate that sound. Then again, that's why she chose that ringtone. So she will pick it up faster instead of letting it ring on.
Her brow creeps up when she reads the caller ID.
Johanna Berlitz.
Not good. Cynthia can count on one hand the number of times she has received a call from the wealthiest woman in Sinnoh.
She answers it with a foreboding feeling.
"What is the Mark of the Arcana?" Johanna certainly does not beat about the bush.
"Who has it?" Cynthia's mind whirls. "Lucas?" She recalls Johanna has a son. And that son has a twin sister… Diane? No, what's her name again…
"Forget about that and answer my question." Johanna snaps.
"I'm afraid I can't. In fact, using my authority as the Sinnoh Champion, you are obliged to tell me how you know about that matter." Cynthia replies measuredly.
"Alder. I loaned him a hundred grand and he coughed up that information." Johanna sounds almost smug. In her world, money solves everything.
Cynthia grits her teeth. She just knew that Alder would be the death of the Parelle League one day. His addiction to gambling and betting has left him in severe debt countless times, and of all the Champions, his lips are the loosest.
She wants to pry those lips off and chuck them into the nearest bin.
His work attitude towards league business is abysmal. She awaits the day he gets kicked out of the league with dark glee.
"I'll deal with Alder. The league will soon release information pertaining to the issue you called me about. Please wait until then." Cynthia responds tightly.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know who I am?" Johanna roars. "One word from me and all funding to the Sinnoh League will be cut off, and you wil –"
Cynthia cuts off the call.
She'll pay hell for it later. But later can fuck itself.
She chugs down three shots of espresso. Cracks her neck and knuckles.
And gets to work.
Though all of that flurry of activities has made Cynthia realize something.
She's not having a bad day, apparently.
She's having a bad week.
A/N:
I know, I know. Why do you need a prologue when you already have a prelude?! But hey, look closely, everyone, it's Prologue... I! Wow! (Don't worry, Chapter 1 is coming next. Like, finally.) Also Darksteelshipping ftw.