Eight years later....
A soft wind whispered throughout the mountainside, the breath of a newborn day, with its golden fingers slowly pulling itself over the peaks. The sun approached cautiously, bringing forth its brilliant light.
Morning also brought Aurora's wake up routine.
The female lucario I had found years ago told me that was her name. I had once thought of her as a dumb pokemon, but now I felt terrible about assuming that. Aurora never known her parents – I supposed they died when she was born. She never had a friend to turn to, because other pokemon were scared – her sharp eyes belonged to the eyes of a warrior, not the gentle, lonely child I came across. Aurora was in fact like a child, something right that I had concluded on first impression – she confided that she had never remembered ever being a riolu. She had grown up as a lucario. Being undereducated, her annoying questions had always pestered me. At least now she knows more, but that's after years of teaching basic principals.
But somehow, I found pleasure in passing along my knowledge to this young companion – her mind was eager to learn about the world, and to learn about her own people. And in doing so, I learned that she wasn't the typical lucario – not at all. Aside her stunning, magenta eyes, she possessed abnormally large reserves of aura. The problem was that Aurora could not control the flow of her aura very well – she may spend a majority of it in a single aura sphere. Her emotional waves are incredibly strong, like a riolu's, but I guess it would be the fault of lack of parental guide. Many times over, I had pulses of curiosity running through me, distracting my ability to train myself. However, those times were over – I could say that I am very proud of my accomplishments as a teacher. Aurora is pretty well balanced now.
I had my eyes closed, letting my aura flow evenly as I slowly lifted my arms into the air. Every morning since I was born, I performed thai chi exercises, in order to practice control, harmony, and balance. I was with the wind, the mountain drafts that blew up from down in the valley. Slowly, I shifted my weight to my other leg, and lifted my tail higher to prevent myself from tipping. Aurora does these exercises with me, too. It is something that she also needs to enhance her control of aura and balance.
My ears twitched – I heard the soft paddings of Aurora's feet behind me.
"Lucario?" I smiled; she always had to tell me something in the morning.
"Aurora, can you not see that I am a little busy?" I replied, shifting positions again. I heard Aurora step closer.
"Lucario?" she asked, despite what I said.
"Aurora," I sighed, "you are distracting me."
"I thought you said that you need to practice your focus more." she retorted.
"Aurora," I found myself regain my normal stance, and opened my eyes, "You are being a hypocrite – you need more time to practice your concentration than I do."
"It's going to be my birthday soon." she smiled, ignoring what I said earlier. I sighed, and shook my head.
"You said that yesterday."
"And the day before that, remember?" Aurora laughed, "You need to exercise your memory, Lucario." I huffed, irritated and yet amused. Aurora looked at me curiously through her flickering eyes.
"Lucario?"
"Aurora," I groaned, "please start, or we will be here all day." The female lucario serenely dipped her blue and black velveted head and blanketed the fuchsia teardrops with her lids. Slowly and gracefully, she performed each exercise, but I knew her weaknesses – all I had to do was wait until she starts balancing on one paw. For the meantime, I bent my body back so my own paws touched the ground, and carefully lifted my weight onto them. I shifted so that only one arm supported me, and I held the other arm steadily outwards. Through aura vision, I surveyed Aurora's progress – she was now bending backwards to perform the same, one-arm stand. Surprisingly, she had completed the task successfully this morning, but I still had other tests to put her through.
"Aurora?" I called her name out softly, but the figure remained silent. I smiled to myself – she has learned to ignore me.
"Aurora?" I asked again. Aurora remained her silent vigil. It was time to move onto the next test. I flipped back onto my legs, and slowly walked over to my pupil. I bent down and waved a paw in front of her face, but she remained still. Standing up again, I circle around to her back, and pretended to push her. Aurora's eyes flung open and she toppled over with a quick yelp.
"Lucario!" she cried, picking herself off the ground, "don't scare me like that! We're standing next to a thousand-foot drop!" I looked at the edge of the cliff and sighed,
"You would not have fallen off either way – the edge is a lengthy five yards away." Aurora blinked and looked over to the edge of the cliff, her tail flicking in distress. She glanced back at me over her shoulder.
"What if the cliff edge crumbled?" she said. Oh no, here comes another volley of the "What if" game. Despite being fourteen, she still acted as if she was a riolu. I moaned softly and closed my eyes. I tried to ignore her, and raised both of my arms.
"So? What if the cliff edge crumbled and I fell?"
"Aurora..." I sighed, "Focus."
"What if that happened?" I could see through aura vision that she was peering at my face, her ears tilted slightly. Even with my eyes closed, her intense eyes remained the same – not the vivid color, but the same luminosity. It was almost as if she could see right through me with her intelligent and piercing stare. I shuddered – those eyes always left me with a cold shiver, tinged with fear. I couldn't stand the way she looked at me now, so I said,
"You would use use to crumbled stone to jump back up." Aurora blinked, carefully studying me. I tried not to look at her through aura vision, so I slowly turned and swung my arms in graceful sweeps to another position facing away from her.
"What if I died?" she asked, cautiously stepping around my standstill body. My mind was suddenly jarred, concentration lost; I relaxed and opened my eyes.
"Why would you ever think of that?" I asked her gently as I could – eight years of traveling together has shown me that she is a very delicate person on the inside. Aurora is surprisingly good at hiding the somber depths of her heart with her teasing and childish questions, but sometimes she breaks down and cries for hours. I didn't want to waste more traveling time today waiting for her to stop crying.
"I was thinking that if I died, what would you do?" she asked. I blinked in surprise – mainly her what-ifs are like "what should I do when something happens?" Now she asked me what I would do. I felt uncomfortable about answering that question – what would I do? I tilted my head, the better to think of how to convey my thoughts. In my point of view, I find it better to carefully think about what to say rather than just blurting it out, like Aurora standing in front of me.
"What would a master do if their apprentice dies?" I answered. Apprentice is the title that I had bestowed upon Aurora, being a student. The female lucario straightened, her magenta eyes flashing.
"I am not a master, Lucario, so how am I supposed to know?" she replied sharply.
"Some answers are meant to be kept a secret, Aurora." I leveled my voice to match her tone. Aurora gave me one of her lethal glares, and turned away from me. Suddenly, I felt pulses washing through me – feelings of anguish.
"Aurora..." I sighed, "Learn to control your feelings." This time, instead of feeling the waves subsiding, I was nearly knocked over from a sudden burst of anger.
"So, I am only a student?" I could hear Aurora trying to keep her fury down, but the pressure was too much for me so I stepped back, "And you have no feelings whatsoever for me? Am I not a friend?" I winced from the painful feelings of betrayal and anguish that flowed through me, beating along with Aurora's heart. Guiltily, I looked away from her intense glare. It is not typically me to show my feelings openly, nor show signs of comfort. I find it rather awkward to speak soothing words and wrap an arm around a small child, or anyone. But Aurora was indeed someone, not just any stranger; I could trust her to watch my back for me, and I would watch her back in turn. Yes, she is still very annoying, but her funny quirks and what-ifs had made the sunrises brighter every dawn of the new day. Indeed, there were strands that connected me to her. I swallowed, thinking of what to say – the pulsing made it hard to think, but I finally came to my senses.
"Aurora, I wouldn't consider you as a best friend," it was too awkward to bring myself to say friend, "but you are definitely an acquaintance." The pulses subsided slightly, and I breathed gratefully.
"Acquaintance? What would that be?" she cocked her head to one side, her pointed ears tipping gently in the direction. I was fumbling with my thoughts.
"I could guess that it would mean 'friend', but not a best friend." I answered slowly. The pained glint in those magenta pools vanished into the watery, or fiery depths – I cannot tell, for they are in some ways, both at the same time; flickering like flames, rippling and swirling like water. The pulses stopped as Aurora regained her control over her aura. She frowned, her brow furrowing, thinking.
"I'm sorry I got angry at you, Lucario." she finally said.
"So, is that a lesson learned?" I replied; forgiving is unbearably foreign on my tongue. But I nodded so she understood I accepted her apology.
"Yes." Her nose pointed downwards, in shame; she turned away, and sealed her luminous orbs. I sighed, out of impatience and out of empathy, but I only stared at her hunched figure, bent sorrowfully. I felt as if I was her older brother, with me taking care of her like this. I could not feel as if I was a teacher anymore, but more equal to this female. I was lost at words, staring at Aurora. Then she opened her eyes again and gave me a sly, sideways glance, her mouth curved upward in a half-smile.
"I guess I could be a master." she said, her canines flashing mischievously, "I have to teach you how to remember." Her tail flicked side to side in self pleasure as I tried to remember what she was initiating. I searched through my mind, but I shamefully couldn't remember anything important for today. I raised an eyebrow, silently surrendering and demanding to know what was it that I had forgotten.
"What if," Aurora leaped lightly over to me in graceful gestures, "I told you," she moved behind me, speaking softly in my ear, "that I," she slowly moved to the other as I tried to see what she was doing, "am fifteen today?" I blinked in surprise; it was her birthday today?
"But I thought that you said that your birthday was soon today," I said, trying to hold back the confusion in my voice, but by judging the way Aurora smiled, I could tell she heard it.
"But I told you that it was going to be my birthday three days from now three days ago!" Aurora laughed, "You are too concerned with survival." I snorted – of course I was concerned about survival.
"Lucario, you have to learn to live." Aurora emphasized the word 'live'. Since when has she learned to grow wise?
"What do you mean?" I was reluctant to know, but asked despite this.
"All you are concerned about is what will be." she said lightly, eyes flickering with intelligence, "You must enjoy the time now, and stop worrying about the future." I gasped, quietly; did she ever think about if she might come across another, equally dangerous pokemon she had to protect herself against? Did she even care about living?
"Surviving, not living, Lucario." I snapped out of my thoughts, and realized that she has read them – again.
"What did I tell you about reading my mind? I don't read yours." I grumbled. Aurora paid no mind, and moved about nonchalantly, almost as if she were dancing.
"Learn to enjoy life as it is today, not what will it tomorrow." she swung her body into an arabesque, "Learn to live – you are so... Serious." She laughed, and leaped to another footing. I was thinking – if she is telling me not to be concerned with the future, then why does she play "what-if" games?
"To annoy you." Aurora smiled, flashing her mischievous smile. In contrast, I felt irritated – irritated with all the times she nagged me and with the fact she has read my mind once more.
"Why?" I asked hotly.
"I find it rather amusing." she tilted her head again, perhaps thinking about earlier this morning, "You have no sense of humor." I raised an eyebrow.
"No sense of humor?" I asked, smiling in spite of myself, "Aurora, you have a leaf sticking to your back." Aurora suddenly stopped dancing, and spun around, trying to see the "leaf".
"Where?" she asked, and started spinning around faster, trying to find that leaf. But I knew there was not a single leaf involved. I just watched Aurora become lightheaded, smiling. Eventually, she stopped, and stumbled around for a bit, and then shook her head.
"Is it off?" she asked faintly, placing a paw to her head. I felt my mouth tugged into another smile.
"I miss the trees, how about you?" I sighed, gazing around the tree-less mountains. Aurora looked around too, and then back at me, and quickly back around the mountainside.
"So," she asked, "how did the leaf get on my back?" I snickered.
"Maybe the leaf flew." I said, loftily, waving my arms upwards like a leaf carried up by the wind.
"I highly doubt that, Lucario," Aurora scoffed, "were you lying about the leaf on my back?" I tried my best not to smile, and Aurora took the hint.
"You were?!" Aurora cried, "What kind of humor is that? What if I became so dizzy that I fell off the side of the cliff?" I folded my arms across my chest, over the spike protruding out it. I pinched my mouth slightly.
"You are too concerned with what will be." I said, smiling. Aurora huffed and stomped one of her feet. I have never seen her so annoyed before; usually the version is vice versa. She rolled her eyes, the fuchsia fire leaping brightly.
"All right," she admitted, "maybe you do have a little bit of humor, but you are still too serious." She looked off into the glowing horizon, the wind blowing through her fur. The small, warm smile softened the blazing magenta eyes, flickering gently. I couldn't help but smile too, and so I did. Aurora had a certain way of entertaining me, I'll have to admit, every morning. But this morning, at the dawn of her fifteenth birthday, seemed to be more than other births of the new day. I guess that Aurora deserved a special day to relax, and be herself.
"I think," Aurora said, taking her gaze off the scenery, "we have fooled around enough – I find that cliff very ominous. Let's skedaddle." And she jumped clear over my head and landed behind me, and started walking down the rugged, mountain path. I stood there, watching her leave, and turned my gaze upon the horizon.
"Yes," I said to the sun, its fingers of soft warmth brushing on my face, "today has certainly been different." And with that said, I bowed my head, turned on my heel, and followed Aurora down the misty mountainside.
Okay, so what's with the time skip? Well, basically nothing happened during that time, so I didn't feel like boring you with that part.
So how is it? Yay or Nay? Please tell me what you think, so I know whether or not to delete this story. It's okay if you say it is the suckiest thing in the whole wide world. ^^;
Oh, I almost forgot to say thanks to Star's Snowflake! I am glad you liked the intro, and thank you again!