The architecture of Waik's people seemed smooth and effortless, but Blanche realized the depths of mathematical precision required for composing the series of perfect domes and archways Waik led them through. The rock had been carved to appear soft and rounded. Even the metallic details – hanging lanterns, weapon racks, even furniture – were forged with gentle, fluid curves. The long hall they walked down was formed by a series of domed chambers and tall arches, as though it had been modeled after the segmented body of a weedle.
And yet, Blanche had yet to see a single pokémon. They kept their eyes peeled for artwork that resembled the intricate carvings on the stone door and great hall, but the decorations in this hall were sparse. Occasionally, they'd spot a curving design on the wall, made of metal hammered into the rock, but the designs were abstract, and were nothing like the images they'd seen on the other side of the portal. No images of people or pokémon. No images of anything.
At the end of the hallway was a final semi-spherical room, utterly barren except for a pair of dark, mossy cushions in the center of the floor, and four guards standing at attention against the walls. Waik lowered herself onto a cushion and spread her hand toward the open one. Blanche sat slowly, eying the guards, wondering what this room could possibly be intended for. They faced Waik, the kneecaps of their crossed legs almost touching hers. Was this a ceremony? Or some kind of trial?
Waik, blank-faced and unreadable, extended her hands toward Blanche. Hesitantly, Blanche mirrored her, palms twisted up. Waik's hands were cool and soft as they cupped Blanche's tan hands from below. Her thumbs pressed firmly but comfortably into the meaty tissue of Blanche's palms, holding them in place. This had to be ceremonial. Some kind of shared meditation, though Blanche wasn't sure they could relax enough to meditate with this stranger who had previously been bent on murdering them. Still, when Waik closed her eyes, Blanche forced their own eyes closed. Swift and unquestioning compliance could mean the difference between life and death.
At first, Blanche could think of nothing but the likelihood of one of the guards impaling them from behind with a saber, or of Waik slicing their throat while they sat like a blind fool before their jailor. But they heard no footsteps, no shuffle of clothing. Just the slow, easy inhales and exhales of the person across from them. Blanche timed their breathing to match Waik's, though they could hear their breath catch and shudder as they forced it from tense lungs.
Blanche wasn't sure how much time had passed when their breath finally turned smooth. They focused on the rhythm of the air entering and leaving their body, filling them on the inhale, expelling anxiety on the exhale.
In.
Out.
In.
There was light. Gray but bright.
Out.
In.
The hazy shape of a pine forest on a white ridge. Snow on the shoulders of bare trees. Blanche's nose felt cold.
Out.
In.
Out.
The snow was that perfect kind of cold that squeaked and whispered under Blanche's feet. Shuff. Shuff. They crossed a clearing that had been layered in four or five inches of snow that sparkled under the glow of a gray-white sky. A breeze hushed through the trees, swaying their exposed branches, lifting a lock of Blanche's hair. The world was muffled and peaceful. Blanche wanted to lie in the snow, let it melt against their neck, wet their skin.
They weren't alone. A woman in a bright orange parka stood ahead of Blanche, her head tilted to see the sky, her short, feather-light hair tousled by the same breeze that had passed Blanche. Only when she turned her pale blue eyes toward Blanche did they recognize her.
"Waik?"
Waik smiled. As unsettling as her eyes and sickly white skin were, her expression was warm and inviting. "So this is the sky, is it? I could barely find the right word. None of us have ever seen it. None of our great, great, great grandparents have ever seen it. It's so bright…"
"How are you doing this? What's happening?" Blanche felt their pulse in their neck, accelerating. This was just as real as their hallucination at the waterfall, and just as impossible.
"I'm in your head," Waik said. "I'm guessing that's not something your people are used to?"
"Not really, no," Blanche said, swallowing. They stared at Waik's parka. "Is that…?"
Waik laughed. "Yes, I borrowed it from your memories of snow. You seemed so fond of this kind of memory, so I thought we could start our discussion here. This must be strange for you, and I apologize. I didn't know how else to talk to you, even though it sounds like you know a language that's little like mine."
She bent and raked her fingers through the snow. "Oh! It's a little sharp, isn't it? There's a place where the water freezes near our town, and the ice can be shaved to look this way. But this is real snow, isn't it? Snow. There's so much of it!"
Waik was like a child, her eyes full of wonder. Blanche felt that they were looking at a different person than the one they'd seen in the cave. They ventured a little closer.
"There you go," Waik encouraged. "Relax. We're safe in here. I'm sure I'm coming off as entirely unprofessional. You must understand that I have never seen a memory like this one. It's beautiful. You must linger here often. Your footprints are everywhere."
Blanche looked to the ground and saw Waik was right. The imprints of their boots crisscrossed the clearing. They did linger here often, they supposed. Though not quite this literally. The absurdity made them laugh.
Waik laughed with them. "There, perfect. I never got your name. Did your friends tell you mine? I thought I heard them mention it, but your language is so harsh and bumpy, I couldn't quite tell."
"I'm Blanche," they said. "They called you 'Waik.'"
Waik nodded, looking pleased. "Good. Now we can get down to business. I can't maintain this indefinitely."
Waik began to walk, and Blanche hurried to match pace. Though she was smaller than Blanche, she moved with swift, sure strides, faster than Blanche's comfortable walking speed.
"Wait," said Blanche. "I still don't understand how this is happening. How are we understanding each other? Why are we in my head? Why are you in Spark's coat?"
Waik looked down at the coat, as if she were surprised. "Oh. I didn't realize it belonged to your friend. I saw it in your memory, and wanted to wear something that would help you think of me as a fellow human. I saw how you looked at us. Like we're specimens for study."
Blanche fell back a step, ashamed that Waik had hit the nail on the head with her insight. Now that Waik was speaking a familiar language and wearing familiar clothes, it was much easier to see her as a rational person, not some cave-dwelling simpleton with a sword.
"Don't worry about it. When I first saw you, I truly thought you were one of the Lost," Waik said. She caught Blanche's confused stare, and continued. "Right, you really are outsiders. Let me clear up the basic questions. Those of us who live here can commune in this way. It's a psychic bond between two people. I assumed you'd be familiar, especially since… well, we'll get back to that. Anyway, we understand each other because we're communicating via the most basic level of human thought. While it sounds to me like you're speaking the language I grew up with, I must sound to you like I'm speaking in your tongue. It's how our brains make sense of the language-less thoughts that we hold in common as human beings. Does that clear things up?"
"A bit," said Blanche, though they were still perplexed.
"Good. We have a lot of ground to cover."
Blanche gestured at the snowy hills and trees around them. "Literally or figuratively?"
"Yes," said Waik with a mischievous grin. Her eyes moved quickly across the wintery landscape, like she was searching for something. "To start with, I'd like to know who the hell the three of you are, because by all accounts, people like you shouldn't exist here."
"What do you-"
Waik scoffed. "You know what I mean. We've been sealed inside a mountain for hundreds of years. No one is supposed to be able to get in here, and you are clearly not from these parts. Now, I'm just a small-town mayor, but I'm not as superstitious as my constituents. I'm sure you noticed their sudden reverence for you."
Blanche nodded. "I assume that has to do with the royalty who sealed you away in here."
At last, it was Waik's turn to be flabbergasted. She stopped midstride and stared with wide eyes at Blanche. Her awe melted into narrow-eyed suspicion. "How did you know that?"
Blanche described the stone door in detail to Waik, who never broke eye contact with them as they spoke. It gave Blanche a moral boost to have the upper hand, even temporarily. "I noticed a resemblance with the leaders of the armies and the mediator. Like you, I'm not prone to superstition. However, it would be naïve to ignore the parallels."
Waik brushed snow from a fallen log and sat, as if she needed respite from the weight of the information. "I'll be damned. But I have to tell you, Blanche. You got some of the details wrong."
"How so?"
"You described the armies as at war with each other, but they weren't. They were at war with Articuno, Zapdos, and Moltres," Waik said. "Back in the time before the seal, this mountain was a mecca. Three neighboring nations – Aka, Ao, and Kiiro – sought to use it for their own purposes. The warlike Aka people wanted to claim the mountain for the sake of military strategy. They wanted the high ground and the forging potential of the heat source deep inside the mountain. The scholarly Ao people believed they could attain enlightenment by living on the highest peaks of the mountain, far from the rest of humanity, whom they dubbed as intellectually inferior. The kind people of Kiiro had lived on the mountain in peace for years, but kept a powerful militia to defend their home and the pokémon who relied on the area as a safe breeding ground."
Blanche sat next to Waik and shivered as a biting wind buffeted them. The gray sky was turning violet and magenta. Was night falling?
"The nations agreed to divide the mountain and work together. Aka could provide their strength, Ao their intellect, and Kiiro their insight. There was peace before the birds came to take the mountain for themselves," Waik said, casting her eyes to the ground as if remembering the incident herself. "They battled for dominance, raining devastation on the humans of the mountain. The warlords of Aka declared the need to attack the birds and either harness them, as they had with other pokémon, or drive them from the mountain. The council of Ao was quick to agree, as their homes were the most at risk. Fearing for the lives of their friends, the Kiiro people agreed to lend their small but in indomitable army."
The snowscape of Blanche's mind dimmed to shades of purple and navy as night set in. Fat snowflakes drifted from the clouds and settled on Blanche's sleeves and lap to slowly melt. They'd never heard of these nations. The Akanoir mountain range was vast, but it astounded them that three separate nations of people could exist there and then vanish without a trace. Well, almost.
"But there were three friends who disapproved of the war on the great birds: a commander from the Aka military, a researcher from Ao, and a storyteller from Kiiro," Waik said. She paused, watching the snowflakes spin and sink through the air, her lips slightly parted, breath visible in swiftly-dissipating puffs of steam. How foreign this must be to her, yet she continued with her story. "The storyteller believed the birds were doing something other than simply scrapping for territory. The researcher's observations backed him up, and the Aka commander encouraged her friends to take action. The three of them set out to face Articuno, Zapdos, and Moltres alone."
Warm, yellow light spilled from the darkness, chasing the shadows from Waik's face. Blanche startled as they discovered a lamppost that hadn't previously been there, standing above them, spreading a circle of light across the snow, a perfect golden disc among the night-blue trees.
Waik touched Blanche's shoulder, making them jump again. "Take it easy. You're getting the hang of this place. You're in a dark mood, but you needed to see, and so we have a lamp."
Blanche still couldn't wrap their mind around everything that was happening, but if Waik could deliver a history lesson despite witnessing a completely unfamiliar meteorological phenomenon, Blanche could press on, too. "I… alright. What happened with the friends?"
"That part isn't very clear. It's been a thousand years, after all," Waik said. "In fact, much of the story I'm conveying to you comes from legends and oral histories. Who's to say what really happened so long ago? Our stories tell of the three friends approaching the birds and withstanding their attacks until some kind of bond was formed. We call it a predecessor to the psychic bonds we can create now. Through the bond, the pokémon warned the friends that the mountain was about to volcanically erupt, and the birds had merely wanted the humans out of harm's way. The friends delivered this information to a distrustful crowd of their peers, but when the birds stood peacefully alongside them, all three nations agreed to retreat. True to the birds' predictions, the volcano erupted a day after the people successfully evacuated."
"It does sound like a parable," Blanche commented.
"I agree. I haven't placed much merit in the historical accuracy of the stories, but then again, what happened next has defined the true and lived history of myself and my people," Waik said. A snowflake caught in her eyelashes and she delicately wiped it away with her fingertips. The snow fell thicker now, the flakes casting fluttering shadows in the ring of lamplight. "The nations united under the leadership of the friends and guardianship of the legendary birds, who remained bonded to their humans. The bonding gift was shared among the rest of the people, who became closely tied to their pokémon. So close that the line between one and the other began to blur."
Blanche pictured the carvings again, the people in apparent agony, growing claws, rearranging their bodies into something inhuman. Hybrids, Dillinger had said. Goosebumps rose on Blanche's arms and legs, despite their warm clothes, despite the knowledge that the cold was all imagined.
"The new royalty could not endure sharing their minds with those of the birds. They all went mad in their own ways. The Kiiro storyteller lost his ability to see the truth. His intuition and wisdom were replaced by crushing terror. He saw things that weren't there, threats that didn't exist."
Candela spoke from Blanche's memory. If you could have seen his face when he thought I was Dillinger…
"The Aka commander was consumed by rage. She lost control of her emotions and became blinded by her own ferocity. Eventually, she couldn't be trusted to roam free, and was imprisoned by her own subjects."
The waterfall. That wild hate in her eyes. Candela's panicked words in the holding cell. I saw him, and was going to murder him.
Blanche knew what was coming, and gathered the courage to proceed. "Tell me about the Ao researcher."
Waik toyed with the sleeve of her imaginary replica of Spark's parka as she spoke. "The Ao researcher disappeared into themself. They shut out the world. They claimed to have gone somewhere within themself, but their people claimed the researcher would simply sit and stare for hours, completely unreachable. They became like a living ghost."
"They…" Blanche had expected something more… binary. This was almost too on-the-nose.
"I'm not sure how the pronoun translated for you," Waik said, eyebrows twisted in thought. "The Ao people didn't use gendered terms. They claimed to be beyond gender."
Blanche stood, too filled with nervous energy to contain themself to the log. They fluffed the snow from their coat and tightened their ponytail to give their flighty hands something to do. They felt Waik's eyes on their back as they moved. She was observing and analyzing their reaction. Studying them. Deciding on what to do next depending on how Blanche behaved.
"Keep going," said Blanche, though they didn't sit back down. Their body was electric with restless energy.
Waik maintained her neutral, watchful expression. "Many people of the united nation went mad as well. When their bonds became too intense, they melded with their pokémon companions, creating monsters that were neither human nor pokémon. They were tortured souls, incapable of rational thought, driven by anger, much like the Aka commander was. We call them the Lost."
Once again, Blanche heard Candela's voice in their head. I feel lost.
"The phenomenon spread like a plague," Waik said, standing and brushing the snow from her clothes like Blanche had done. "With the last of their sanity, the royals agreed that they needed to protect the world from themselves and their subjects, who were swiftly becoming violent, murderous creatures. With the help of the birds, they created a door into the depths of the mountain range, a door that could only be opened with the combined power of Articuno, Zapdos, and Moltres, and yet would not allow the birds to enter. They believed that the birds had been the corrupting influence that led to the creation of the Lost, and if their people were kept away from them, the humans might be able to remain humans."
"And here you are," Blanche said.
Waik spread her arms. "And here we are."
It was as if a clock were being constructed in Blanche's mind. The information settled into their head like cogs and springs aligning, clicking into place. Every new piece brought the clock closer to functionality, and yet a few key components remained absent.
"So, how are you here?"
"It's a long story," said Blanche.
"I can think of only one way into the mountain, and it involves the birds and long-dead royalty. And yet, the three of you made it in. How? I don't mind if it's the abbreviated version," Waik said.
"There was a portal, and a key, and yes, the legendary birds," Blanche said. Waik rubbed her chin thoughtfully, but said nothing. "We opened the portal, but it became unstable, and we and the birds were sucked through."
"Hm," said Waik. She opened her mouth to say something else, but suddenly flinched and clapped her hand to the side of her head, as if she'd been struck there.
"What's wrong?" Blanche asked.
"I can't keep this up for much longer. We should keep looking," Waik said, standing abruptly and striding into the snow. "Think you can give us some light again?"
"I can try," Blanche said. "What are we looking for?"
Blanche thought of morning, and as quickly as the thought formed, the sky began to lighten and streak with pink and orange. A halo of sun peeked over the horizon, giving the trees long, blue shadows that cut across the crisp whiteness of snow.
"What an amazing world you live in," Waik said, her face glowing in the bold morning light. She squinted in the light but didn't avert her eyes from the rising sun. Was this her first dawn? Her first glance at the sun? But none of this was even real. It was a fake sunrise, conjured from Blanche's memory, and for some reason, that thought made them feel guilty.
Waik snugged the neck of the parka closer to her neck and continued to walk. Dark circles hung beneath her eyes, but she was smiling.
"You never said what we're looking for," Blanche reminded her.
Waik changed the subject, as if she hadn't heard Blanche speak. "The tragedy about our self-imposed exile is that we left all ties to pokémon behind. While the leaders blamed the birds for the melding phenomenon, they took no chances and banned pokémon from the inside of the mountain."
Blanche ducked their head to avoid a low-hanging, icicle-laden branch. "I don't understand. When we first entered the mountain, we were attacked by some of those creatures. The Lost, I mean. I would have thought they'd be long gone, based on your story."
"Our ancestors locked them in with us, thinking it was for the good of the region," Waik said, and her sharp delivery indicated her distaste for the fact. "They thrived down here just like we did, creating more and more monsters, growing further from humanity every century. We should have wiped them out when we had the chance, but now there are too many. They keep away from our settlements, for the most part. But they're still out there, and they're still deadly. When I saw that creature with you, I thought it must be Lost, but it was a pokémon, wasn't it?"
Blanche nodded and tried to imagine what it was like to live without pokémon. They were so essential to the society they'd come from, and yet here was a person who'd never seen one. It was hard for them to comprehend.
"So the world carried on without us, after all," Waik said, her voice soft and wistful. A strong breeze fluffed her hair and her expression sobered. "I think we're close."
"Close to what?" Blanche was starting to become annoyed.
But the answer came without Waik having to respond. In front of them, the lake from Blanche's childhood sprawled, iced-over and lightly blanketed by new-fallen snow. In the center, curled against the rising wind, sat Articuno. Blanche let out a choked cry of surprise. The legendary pokémon looked so much smaller than it should have, balled up as it was, eyes closed to slits, feathers protruding at odd angles. It looked sick. Blanche didn't know it could be sick.
"What is going on?" Blanche asked, freezing in place. "I didn't imagine Articuno like I imagined the dawn or the lamppost or the snow. Why is it here? What's wrong with it?"
Waik sank to the ground, catching herself woozily with her arms so she didn't collapse completely. Blanche wanted to go to her, but their feet seemed anchored to the spot.
"I knew it would be here. I knew it, but I couldn't believe it," Waik said, laughing humorlessly. "I thought I felt something inside of the three of you. We all did. That strong energy coming from your heads when you all stood there together."
"Waik, why is it here? What's happening?" Blanche's voice rose in pitch. They needed to keep calm. This was all in their head, and the only reason they were anxious about it was because of Waik's reaction.
"The birds hitched a ride with you when you all came through the portal, but they can't exist in here. Or, I thought they couldn't. They've found a loophole, though I don't understand how they pulled it off," Waik said, her voice thin. She looked so tired and flimsy. "You're sharing headspace with an incredibly powerful pokémon, Blanche. No human can manage that for long."
Suddenly, Blanche understood the source of their rising fear. "What happened to the royals? After you went underground?"
"You aren't them. They aren't your future," Waik said.
"Stop dodging my questions," Blanche demanded.
The wind picked up, whipping Blanche's hair and causing the trees to moan and creak. Articuno stirred on the ice and opened one glossy, unfocused eye to watch the humans on the shore.
"You already know what happened. I can feel your fear," Waik said. "They were too far gone by the time the portal closed. Their minds were so badly damaged by the birds that they couldn't withstand the separation. They died within a week of closing the door."
Clumps of snow fell from the trees as they quaked in the wind. Waik turned her shoulder against the gusts, but still barely had the power to sit upright.
"Like I said," Waik panted. "They aren't your future. You can still get out of here and release the birds before they destroy you. Look at Articuno. It doesn't want to be here. It's suffering. Once you leave this mountain, it will detach from you, and you can all be free again. Do you understand?"
"You told me the royals went mad. It's already happening to us," Blanche said. They envisioned a calm, still morning, like they'd done to turn night to day, but the wind continued to howl.
Waik pressed her hand to her chest, as if she were struggling to breathe. "I know. I had to give your friend something to calm him down after he threatened your other friend with a sword. I thought maybe he was just concussed, but now..."
"It's not just Spark. We've all experienced something. I need to know if it's too late for us," Blanche said.
Waik looked at them as if they were mad, which they supposed wasn't far from the truth. "What good would knowing that do? Would you just give up? I honestly don't know the answer, Blanche. But regardless of the parallels, you are not the people who locked us in this mountain. You're in control of your own destiny, and I still believe you have time to get out of here and save yourselves. I will show you a way out. The other side of the door. You should have arrived through it, but something must have gone wrong."
Waik squeezed her eyes shut and bared her teeth, withstanding an invisible pain.
"Are you OK?" Blanche asked.
"You'll need the birds to open the door," Waik went on, sounding strained. "Some people say the royals were meant to return and free us through it. Maybe they weren't so crazy after all. Unh, I can't keep this up. I have to break the connection."
Dillinger had said the same thing, that the society must have expected to leave the mountain someday. Blanche clasped their hand over their mouth. Team Rocket. They were still in here somewhere, and Blanche doubted they'd play nicely with Waik's people. Blanche had to warn her.
"We weren't the only ones who came through," Blanche said, and the wind was so loud they had to shout.
"What?" Waik was barely hanging on, her eyes rolling back in her head, her chest heaving.
"There's a group of scientists in here with us. They're the ones who forced us to bond with the birds and open the portal. You have to watch out for them! They're dangerous, Waik, they-"
In a flash of white, everything blazed out of existence.
Blanche's head lolled and with clouded, jittery vision, they saw the dark, round room again. Guards ran toward Waik and Blanche, asking something in the language that Blanche couldn't quite decipher. They crowded around Waik and lifted her limp body from the cushion. Blanche tensed, fearing the guards would think they'd done something to her in that psychic dream world.
But the guards – politely but firmly – took them under the arms and lifted them as well. They marched Blanche swiftly out of the room and back into the long, segmented hallway. As Blanche twisted their neck to see Waik's petite body being carried down another passageway, they hoped their message had made it through.
There were scarier things in these caves than the Lost.
§
AN: Lots of exposition, I know. This was tough to write because of that and several other reasons. For one, the fact that the wedding is now 9(!) days away (as I write this on 11/10/16). Also, I've not been motivated to write because my country just elected the most damaging, unstable, and hateful man imaginable to the highest political position available. I'm heartbroken, and I'm afraid for my future as a gay woman, and for the futures of my POC friends, and for all of those who are put in danger because of the culture that has been cultivated in what should be a progressive and powerful nation. However, I hope that by writing, I can create an escape for myself and for others. The next chapter will finally have some joy in it! Be safe, be strong, and be kind (and I won't make political rants a regular thing, I promise!).