"There you are, Lysander," the Latios said from somewhere, relieved.
Lysander was startled to find himself flying up in the sky somehow, with his arms pressed to his sides. He couldn't feel his legs. And he couldn't see where the Latios was. Trees rushed by far below him; the moon hung motionless above. He tried to look around, but he couldn't move his body.
"You're still asleep, by the way," the Latios explained, still out of view. "I'm awake, though, and I figured we could talk some more. Your dream was taking a turn for the worse, anyway."
"Where are we?" Lysander asked, still confused. The side of his own face looked different in the moonlight—bright blue in the moonlight, instead of grayish-blue like a Gabite. His other senses reported disconcerting differences too—in his form as well as the way he perceived the world around him.
"That's right, we're sharing the same body," the Latios revealed. "I can't make a second body for you, no matter how powerful the legends say I am."
"So I'm you?" Lysander questioned, awed.
"Well, you're sharing my senses, but you're not in control of my body, no matter how much it seems like you're me," the Latios said. Lysander felt an odd, gentle probing sensation, unconnected to any of the familiar senses. "Let me look for a phrase. You're probably somewhere near the right meaning," the Latios said. "Oh, it's like you're 'in the passenger's seat.' Does that make sense?"
"No," Lysander murmured.
"Hmm, I could have sworn that phrase carried the meaning I was looking for," the Latios mused. "It was on the tip of your mind. Anyway, well, remember you're still sleeping over at home. And your mind's over there, too, technically—I'm just sending my senses to yours, and communicating with you telepathically. You know, you're taking it very well. You're already used to all this."
"So where are we going? Are you sure this isn't a dream?" Lysander asked.
The Latios sniffed the night air, which meant that Lysander did, too. "Smell the air, and try to tell me you're still dreaming," the Latios said.
None of Lysander's dreams had ever been so vivid. "Okay, I believe you," he conceded.
"We're going to talk to one of my old friends," the Latios told him. "He was a friend of my father, and my grandfather, and who knows how many ancestors before them." Sensing something in Lysander's thoughts, he added, "Yes, we reproduce."
"What's your name?" Lysander asked.
"Tesoros. As part of the oldest generation, I'm supposed to go by Latios, and only use my given name for... when others of us are around. But I'm the only male left, so I don't mind if you call me Tesoros."
"Okay, Tesoros," Lysander said, making sure he got the name right. "Who're we going to see?"
"We're just going to talk to him. He's gonna help us cross over to the other world."
"We're going to the other world?"
"Yeah. If you're from over there, then we can help bring you back—and save Latias at the same time."
"Should I go back?"
The question went unanswered. They were silent for a few minutes—two minds experiencing exactly the same sensations. Lysander could almost fool himself into believing he was a Latios. At the same time, though, he had no control—the connection from mind to body ran in only one direction.
"I'm only sharing my senses with you, overriding yours with mine," Tesoros explained again. "I didn't actually connect your mind to my body. That way, we're not fighting over it." He flew into a cloud, getting covered with moisture.
"I know," replied Lysander. He wanted to shake off the moisture, but couldn't.
"Sorry," Tesoros apologized. "I read that as confusion."
"So you can read my mind?"
"Yes, but it's a terrible thing to do. I never do it—I only pick up on feelings, which is like body language for telepathy. Feelings are emotions, but also thoughts that you haven't put into words. You can probably feel some of mine."
After some more quiet traveling, they took a deep breath, tasting salt in the air. Below them rested the immense ocean, dark and flat.
"Have we been flying over the ocean?" Lysander asked, not sure if teleportation had happened. He had spaced out.
"Yeah, for a few minutes now," Tesoros said. "Not related, but I have a confession to make."
"What do you mean?"
Lysander felt guilt come from Tesoros's mind. His eyes averted, bringing Lysander's gaze down into the ocean.
"I—I saw you there, in that town, and I noticed something different about you, mentally. It's hard to describe. It was similar to whatever was pushing on our world, our universe. I thought you had something to do with my problem. You actually helped me calm down, you know. To act with reason. I was intrigued. I would have attacked you, if I hadn't felt complete confusion from you when you saw me."
"Thanks?"
"No, thank you. Anyway, there's no way I would have let myself become subdued like that—all in the dirt!—if I hadn't been so interested in you. You've got something from this other world, you know."
Memories of talking with Trace in the forest came rushing back to Lysander. "Yeah, about that," he murmured. Then he explained that he had woken up one day in a forest, thinking he had been a human in some other world. He also told how Trace convinced him that it had been some crazy dream.
He felt puzzlement coming from Tesoros. "So you're probably really from the world my Latias is in right now," he said. "Do you remember anything about it?"
"It wasn't crazy different, I think," Lysander recalled. "The only difference was it had humans. I was a human. I don't really remember anything else."
A bit of telepathic silence. "I've heard stories about that kind of thing before," Tesoros murmured. "You know what that means? You're a legend, too."
"I don't feel like a legend. Besides being a Latios right now."
Lysander felt Tesoros think something—a thought without words. Tesoros didn't feel like a legend either, except by being with a human.
"You really mean that?"
"Oh—well, feelings are hard to fake. Anyways, I wanted to apologize because I sort of—I persuaded—I kind of made you more inclined to see me, more than anyone else. I suppressed the reasoning in your head that would convince you not to go out looking."
"But I really felt like that. I wanted to help you."
"Yes. Yes, you did. And I'm grateful. I just stopped that part of your psyche that would have held you back. I could tell you weren't going to speak out in front of that crowd."
"I'm—it's okay," insisted Lysander. "No harm done."
"I feel bad for putting you and Trace at odds with each other. I couldn't help but feel your distress over it."
"Well, we're okay now. By the way, how did you get my name?"
Tesoros emitted shame. "I'm not proud of the way I lost control. I began looking through people's heads for answers. Some people associated you with danger, by the way. I thought that was unfair."
Lysander didn't feel like dwelling on the past day, especially when he had another past to think about. He couldn't remember anything about being human, besides the fact that he could probably still read in the human language. Who had he been as a human? Had the same time passed in the other world—about four days? Three?—since he had left? Were people looking for him? He felt vaguely ignorant, like he was missing something.
"I don't know, either," Tesoros said, descending quickly. "Where is he? He usually talks as soon as I reach the sea." The ocean quickly became louder than the wind.
"Where are we going, exactly?" Lysander asked, glad to not have to raise his voice over the noise.
"You'll see!" Tesoros insisted. "He'll—"
"Tesoros!" came a third telepathic voice. "You brought him?"
"He's with us, but not physically."
"Hi," Lysander said shyly. "I'm Lysander."
"Sense-sharing? I see. Well, Lysander, nice to mentally meet you! My name is Lugia."
Lysander couldn't believe it. "You mean—"
"Yes! The legends are true! Most of them, at least."
Tesoros kept flying low over the ocean, while Lysander's head spun. He was sharing the body of a Latios, and now he was communicating with the legendary guardian of the sea—all while being asleep! What a night.
"You need mental sleep, though, so we should get to business," said Lugia's mind. "You and Tesoros are going to the other world. I've been checking it out, and it looks like I can get you two over. It's easier with you, since you're from across the barrier already. Don't worry if you don't get what I'm talking about. We'll go over it again tomorrow.
"I'm going to warp you high in the sky, so you don't end up in the ground or anything like that. I don't know how different it is over there. Tesoros, do you think you can get back by yourself if you have Cair... Latias with you?"
"Probably. We can use whatever they're using to pierce the barrier."
"Okay. Lysander, do you remember anything at all about the other world? I'll try and help."
With Lugia's assistance—a bit of mental nudging—Lysander began remembering his past life.
"Well, the humans... live with Pokémon... I used to be a Trainer... Trainers have Pokémon... they were my best friends, I think." Thinking about it depressed him, like he had run away from home and everyone he knew.
"Since you'll probably turn back into a human when you go back there, you'll have to pretend to be Tesoros's... Trainer. Tesoros, you'll have to change into someone less... legendary."
"That's fine," Tesoros said.
"I don't know how long this weakness in the barrier will last," Lugia warned, "so don't waste any time over there. Lysander, you don't have to come back here if you don't want to."
"I don't know, though—"
"Yeah, don't worry about it," Tesoros interrupted. "You can figure it out later."
"Oh!" Lysander said, remembering something. "I found this ball thing yesterday, and I think it's from the other world! Humans used it to capture Pokémon. Do you think it'll help?"
"It might help you cross over," Lugia said. "And also with the disguise. Sure, bring it."
"Okay."
"Is that all?" Tesoros asked. He was still over the dark ocean, which was lit in a stripe by the moon.
"I guess," Lysander said.
"We'll let you get some sleep," Lugia said. "We're going to try this tomorrow morning. Be sure to bring your ball thing. And you might want to say goodbye to people, just in case."
"Good night," bid Tesoros.
As Lysander's senses (which were actually Tesoros's) faded away, the two psychics kept talking.
"These humans don't sound good," Lugia said faintly. "The ball thing sounds like enslavement to me."
"Lysander's a nice person," Tesoros said. "I can feel it."
"I guess they can't all be bad..."
"He's involved, but..." The voices faded away, too.
And then Lysander was back to sleep.