Chapter 7
Serena woke up.
The first thing she noticed was the grass. She could feel it underneath her fingers, clenching her muscles in to the dirt, savoring the cool softness of the weedy textures. Her vision remained a blur, but a brightness rained down on her from above. She could hear leaves, rustling within a dry breeze that felt much colder than a southern spring wind. The sound was everywhere.
Large trees began shake in to focus above her, filtering sunlight through a thin but high canopy, and the wind made vibrant the berry blooms, teasing the first buds on the branches with the remnants of winter chill. Serena gasped in to consciousness.
She lifted her head. Her neck felt as stiff as the dress she still wore from the gown, but she forced it to turn and scan the forest around her. The scent of pecha berries kissed her nose and she wondered how that was possible. They didn't grow in the south, or anywhere near Glorio for that matter. This made her worry. She had didn't recognize the forest, nor any landmark to aid her natural compass.
Serena sat up from the ground, picking blades of grass out of her hair, slapping them off of her sleeves. Suffocating in the thick fabrics of her dress, she decided to rip the first three layers of the gown, leaving only her light slip, and her belt, on underneath. She checked to make sure all of her pokemon were still at her side, and felt relief push up on her chest. She had half-expected them to be gone. She had half-expected to be alone.
In the clearing, Bonnie, Clemont, and the other two trainers slept in the grass. They had not yet stirred since Serena awoke. She studied them all with a dazed expression, as though this moment should be a dream. The forest was beautifully green, like an emerald city built up with soft clouds of plants, vibrant with gem-colored flowers and blossoms she had never seen before. The bark on the trees reminded her of the rich chocolate found in Snowbelle during the winter, where Kalosians celebrated the holidays by stacking mountains of fudge before the storefronts on the street.
"Pi..Pika?"
Serena whipped around to cast her gaze behind her shoulder. She saw a bright yellow body, stirring within a sea of billowing grass, and memories of where she been invaded the facets of her mind. She scrambled over towards the pokemon, wrapping him in a suffocating embrace as fire and glass and shadows ravished her senses, overwhelming her eyes, pushing tears from their ducts. She buried her face in to Pikachu's fur and only saw Ash.
"You're crying?"
Serena looked up.
A small pokemon floated before her, like a green fairy, with a round head that—coming up to a point and sticking upward in the back—resembled the shape of an onion. It had large baby-blue eyes, with thick black rings around them, and a pair of green antennae that were tipped blue. The pokemon maneuvered around Serena, its clear cellophane wings, beating softly beside the breeze.
"You're crying?" the pokemon asked again, without moving its lips, speaking through thought. It blinked directly in to Serena's eyes, "Will you tell me why?"
Serena jumped back as the winged fairy moved closer, its eyes growing larger from the closing distance. Serena wiped her cheeks and stood up. Pikachu scurried on to her shoulder and greeted the pokemon as though he had seen it before.
"You know me?" the pokemon replied to Pikachu, and the yellow rodent nodded, smiling, "Of course…You helped me long ago…you and another."
Then Pikachu's ears fell, and his face grew dark. He nodded, but sounded defeated, "Pika…pi,"
"No wonder he looked so familiar," the fairy empathized.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" Serena demanded, comforting Pikachu by bringing her in to her arms.
"You mean Drifter did not tell you?" the pokemon asked, perplexed, and flew past her towards the others still sleeping on the forest floor. "I am Celebi. I was told to save you, so I did."
"Drifter?" Serena reacted, but soon realized that this must be the name of the man who confronted Ash with the Dragonite. Who else could it be? He was the with them all when the attack on the castle occurred, and seemed imbued with an odd alienness as though he did not belong in their world. Still, Serena found herself asking, "Who is he? Drifter?"
Celebi only shrugged, backflipping through the air and releasing a bright powder over the remaining unconscious bodies. They began to stir.
"I always thought he was a human," Celebi explained, returning to Serena's side, "he is very old for a human though. I think he is a prophet."
"A prophet?"
"Oh yes," Celebi smiled, "to Solgaleo."
"Prophets don't exist anymore," Clemont grunted, coming in to consciousness, already mulling over the conversation he's overheard in his half-sleep state, "and most people believe they were just myths,"
"Well," Celebi giggled, "I can tell you two things: they very much still exist, and they were never only myths. Though, I will say there are never more than two for a generation, and even then, sometimes there will be none for many hundreds of years."
Clemont found his glasses and put them on. He jumped up to his feet at the sight of Celebi and then froze in shock. "Uh, Serena? What are you doing talking to a legendary?"
"What's a prophet?" Serena asked. This all sounded too absurd, but that man, Drifter, had spoken to Ash with familiarity. He knew more than everyone here and Serena pinned him as this key she had to find and test on many locks.
What was happening? Her heart could not bear to let Ash disappear for another five years to build upon the secrets that had already brought her tremendous pain. As much as she wanted to forget—to run away from everything that had just occurred—Serena could not forget Ash's eyes. He had looked at her. He had looked at her, for a moment, the way he used too. She could see his stare every time she closed her eyes. His new face was branded on to the back of her brain.
"A prophet is a trainer, who has been selected by a Creation Legendary, in order to serve as an intermediary with humanity and the pokemon race," Celebi said.
"Isn't the only Creation Legendary, Arceus?" Clemont muttered, unsure of what was happening, or why they were discussing it, but still feeling the need to be fed intellectually.
"No," Celebi smiled, but began to grow impatient while the others awoke more slowly, "we need to move. Even here we won't be safe for long."
Serena moved over to Bonnie, making sure the younger girl was alright. She helped the twelve-year old up on to her feet, but it was evident Bonnie was still dazed. Serena brushed away strands of the girl's pale hair out of her face before searching her eyes, embracing her.
"Are you okay?" Bonnie asked, but she sounded distant. No doubt the experience had traumatized her. The bodies of pokemon and humans had been littered all over the floor like pieced of debris.
"Shh, I'll be fine," Serena assured, gently kissing her forehead, "don't worry about me. I need you to be strong. I think we're a long way from home,"
Bonnie nodded, her memories began to form tears.
"Where are we, then?" Kaleb asked, watching the two beside Brock, who was silent as stone.
Gary huffed. "We're in the Ilex forest,"
Celebi looked at him, amused.
"And how do you know that?" Clemont grumbled, pulling twigs out of his hair.
Gary shrugged. "Pops dragged me out here a lot when he had to do research…see those blossoms—" Gary nodded over to the white blossoms, speckled with gold dots, on the trees, "—those are gold berry blossoms, and they only grow in Johto."
"How did in the world did we get to Johto?" Clemont exclaimed, snapping his head in every direction to observe the newly identified surroundings.
Serena heard Brock shift. He got up from the floor and shook the grass and dirt from his hair. His dark eyes glanced at Serena, and she looked away, not wanting him to her read anymore than he already could. She felt guilty. Serena had grown angry by Brock's presence in a subconscious, and unintentional way. Her mind associated everything that was happening, with Brock. She hated that he had continued looking for Ash. She hated that he had come to Glorio. She hated that he had come looking for her.
"There was," Brock began with a sigh, "something told me to grab this pokeball that had appeared on my belt…" He turned to Celebi. "Was that you?"
"I was the pokemon, not the voice," Celebi giggled, as though she held all the answers but could not give them quite yet, "I brought you here, so that we could find those who can help you. Now hurry, before it all gets dark."
Drifter had returned his Dragonite. The pokemon suffered a critical hit to the left wing and it crashed among the rocks of Helms Isle. Drifter, though scathed by the fall, could not let the Dragonite die, so he called for its retreat and began using the night to hide among the rocks by the sea. In the dark, he heard the waves crashing beneath his feet, his ankles deep in cool salt-water, as he crouched behind a black boulder. Drifter tried to pace his breathing, exhaling whenever a wave burst upon the rock, so as not to be heard by his pursuer, who was still flying overhead.
The Charizard roared.
Drifter shivered with fear, but kept his ground. He clutched his arm, which was bleeding from a deep gash just below the shoulder, and leaned upon the rock for support. He prayed to Solgaleo, praying for covering and protection. He knew he could not die here, but he didn't believe it. His faith grew faint.
A hundred feet away, Drifter heard the dragon land. He heard it being returned and then all he could hear was the ocean. Salt filled his nostrils. The humidity clung to his hair and clothes and the air stung his wound. He gritted his teeth in pain at the discomfort, but did not make a sound.
Between the sound of crashing waves, Drifter heard footsteps. He could not tell in which direction they were going.
"How did you know," asked a voice, dark with no light intent. But Drifter listened. The voice was cracking, though no one could hear without knowing the voice. "How did you know who she was?"
Drifter closed his eyes. He leaned his head back upon the rock and let out a pained whimper. He wanted to respond. He wanted to reach out and shake the boy back to his senses.
Speak to him…
The old prophet began to cry. He could feel the hot tears roll down his cheek and disappear in to his beard. At that moment, his fate had been revealed to him.
"You were the chosen one," Drifter shouted above the waves, coming out from behind his boulder; a silhouette behind the glistening waves. "You were to succeed me; don't you see? It is why Lunala pursued you…corrupted you—,"
"I am not the corrupted one!" Ash cried, but his voice wavered. He had drawn his sword again and its glow illuminated Drifter's shadow on the rocks, "I'm saving her life!"
"And you are destroying everyone's in the process," Drifter limped closer, streams of blood flowing down his arm. He grew faint. "Lunala knew you would be chosen to be after me. He knew you were the strongest; the purest of heart. And he came after you the only way he knew how."
"Stop it; shut up!" Ash pointed his blue sword at the old prophet, still limping his way, "You're a liar. I wasn't strong until Lunala lent me his power."
Drifter ignored the threat of the blade. He continued walking towards its blue light. "Lunala used her. He used your love for her. He used your fear of hurting her. He's tricked you…in to destroying her anyway…you're nothing but a pawn."
"I swear, I will kill you," Ash pointed the blade to Drifter's throat. The old man stopped at the tip of its edge.
The old prophet felt blood trickled from the sword's point down his neck. "There's still time. Your friends…they were all together…they're still looking for you. Don't you see that Lunala is using you to kill them? To kill everything and for what? Dominion over what can never have? He is destined to lose. He'd dragging you down with him."
"I am a pokemon master because of him," Ash muttered, his eyes shaking in the blue light.
"And what has that gotten you?" Drifter whispered, "Tell me, was it worth sacrificing all the love in the world? Was it worth sacrificing the one you felt unworthy of? Was it worth your freedom to return to her?"
"He's promised not to hurt her," Ash's lips began to quiver, "if I help him, he's promised not to hurt any of them. That's why I can't be free."
Drifter began to understand. Ash had given his soul to Lunala not only to become worthy of love, but to protect love; a love that he was doomed to lose.
Drifter bowed and shook his head. "Please…don't choose the fate your father suffered because of a lie."
Ash's face darkened. It reverted to that cold, dead stone of a soulless body. With one quiet lunge, Ash grabbed Drifter by the shoulder and buried his sword in to the old man's flesh.
"That will be impossible now," Ash whispered in to Drifter's ear as the prophet began to choke. "How can I suffer my father's fate, when the one who killed him is dying beneath my blade?"
Ash slid his sword out of Drifter's chest, and kicked the old man's body to the floor.
And then there was a brilliant flash of light.
xxxxx
"Why are you scared, Serena? You're going to do great!" a young Ash exclaimed, encouraging the girl standing before him.
He watched Serena bite her lip, still unsure about the showcase at hand. She would need to win in order to enter the Master's, but he wasn't worried. She had trained hard. She knew what she was capable of. But the past was still ingrained in her mind. Past failures never disappeared easily from a memory, Ash knew that better than anyone.
Unsure of how else to calm her, Ash took Serena by the hand. They still had some time before the finals began, but not much. He led her farther backstage, back in to her dressing room, where they could be alone. He took her by both hands now and smiled, nervous. He told her she looked stunning, and touched her gold hair, adorned with flowers and jewels. He told her that she was beautiful, playing with the ribbon above her chest, the one he'd given her.
"You know I'll be here," he said, pulling her closer in to him now; his hands moving to her waist and his forehead pressed up against hers. They both felt blush dust their cheeks. "I'll still be here whether you win or lose. I'll be here no matter what. You know that, right?"
As a response, Serena brought his lips down to hers. She kissed him deeply, as though she needed to feel his promise as much as hear it. He liquefied underneath the sensation, his face flushing and his stomach turning to stone, weighing heavily at the bottom of his gut. He pressed in to her, harder, wanting to create the impression of his promise on to her lips. He wanted to brand it on to her heart.
Serena gasped, pulling away. She smiled and it was beautiful. It was perfect.
Ash was still breathing hard, but he smiled back. He smiled back but felt a wave of panic sear through him.
He heard the announcer call for the finalists to come backstage, but it sounded distant. He felt his world begin to spin. He felt Serena press her mouth on to his one last time before leaving the dressing room. He felt himself grow cold when she let go of him.
xxxxx
Ash woke up.
He was lying on the floor. It was still dark. The ocean continued to crash against the rocks.
Ash sat up.
His sword was glowing a few feet away from his body. He scrambled on to his feet and ran towards the weapon, grasping it. He turned back to where he'd killed the old prophet—seconds, minutes, hours?—before and froze.
The body was gone.
Loved the reviews last time. Thanks so much for the encouragement! And I love hearing you all guess what's going to happen. It's great :) Keep reviewing, I appreciate them! Til next time!