Chapter 10

Short chapter, but important. R&R

When Serena was a young girl, she didn't know what it meant to love someone well. She was a people pleaser. She would do things all the time for her parents, her friends, teachers, mentors—in order to receive something in return. She gave to be given. She served to be served. She loved to be love back. Her greatest fear was disappointing others. She did not know that this was necessarily bad—in some cases it wasn't—for most appreciated her thoughtful and caring nature, but Serena needed affirmation from other. She did not like tension. She did not like to assert herself in the way of other people, scared of ruining a relationship. But this always came back to bite her. She did not know how to love authentically.

Not until she began to love Ash. Here was a case—a person—to whom she would devote herself only to receive nothing in return. It exhausted her. The first few months of traveling with him had been, in a sense, heartbreaking. She would seek any way to get his attention, to garner his affection—but he never reciprocated. There were times when she would feel taken advantage of. He began to expect things of her, and she felt imprisoned by such expectancies. He would give her clothes to mend, bags to hold, food to cook—but he didn't know what he was doing. Part of it had been her own fault. Serena would go out of her way for him, bending over backwards, and he kept staring at the stars.

Months of this. She remembered breaking. She remembered one night outside on the steps of the pokemon center, overwhelmed by her heart and the showcase at hand. That was the night Ash came out and found her. He smiled at her, asked her what was wrong. She couldn't speak.

He then loved her—in his own way, of course. You're going to do great, he had said, throwing his fist up in the air. You are going to learn; you're going to get better. You'll be inspiring and be inspired.

Serena watched him jump off the steps, Pikachu on his shoulder. He was holding his arms open to the world, as though it were this limitless possibility for him to explore. He laughed and looked at her, his ambers eyes fired up against the streetlights.

That was the moment she decided to love him, unconditionally. She would no longer expect things from him—she no longer expected to be loved back. She just wanted to love this boy, who inspired her, without cause or effect. She would not do it for pleasure; she would not do it for anything in return. She would love him and let him be. And she loved him well.

Three months later, he would kiss her. She would not be expecting it.

xxxxx

Ash had been surprised to see Gary, pounding up towards the mountain with Aerodactyl under his grip. His surprise quickly turned to amusement, however, when Gary's face fell at the sight of him. The auburn-haired trainer had tried to turn his dragon around, his face stricken with a strange remorse. Ash could read the word "no" being uttered over and over again on his old friend's lips. Ash awaited him in the blistering wind, upon the onyx platform before the mountains threatening mouth. He had sensed a presence drawing close.

Before Gary landed, Ash called upon his Charizard, in case his old rival should try anything—though it would be futile. He's come in to a place where he has no power. Part of Ash was deeply distressed. He wished for Gary to turn back with all his might, but Lunala sensed this in him, and hardened Ash's heart in to a dark determination that rendered the man's desires in to wanting to cause Gary harm. Ash grew enraged, but could not fight off the black presence in his soul.

As soon as Gary touched the platform, he was seized by three other trainers, dressed as Ash, whom appeared out of nowhere through the wind. They said nothing; held nothing but anger on their faces. They began to beat the new trainer, and forced him on to the ground, in to chains. One took Gary by the hair and sneered in to his face, causing the trainer to recoil in fear and whimper.

Ash looked away. He could do nothing else.

After they had beaten Gary in to streams of blood and bruised skin, Ash walked up and crouched down to the floor. He looked at Gary, his mouth opening and closing at a loss for words. For a moment he saw his past; the white fence of his backyard, his mom filling the house with the smell of fresh bread, pigeys flying over his head out towards the sea.

Gary spat in his face. "You bastard, I'm going to kill you."

Ash drew back. He wiped the frozen spit from his cheek and began to shake with rage. He jerked Gary's head up by his hair. "You don't even know what it means to die."

The other trainers in black then began to take Gary away, dragging him inside the mountain as he cried out curses towards Ash, ones that condemned him for betraying his friends, for lying to them, for leaving their side. Such convictions would have cut Ash to the core, had they not been coming from a hypocrite.

He asked Lunala, are you going to kill him?

I will leave that up to you, Lunala's hiss penetrated the darkness of Ash's mind, after he tells us where the Purehearted can be found. We cannot continue until they are dead.

Ash nodded, and followed Gary's screams in to the mouth of the darkness.

Three days ago, Brock woke up to find Gary gone. He wasn't been surprised. However, when he found the sheets thrown aside and the bed void of life, Brock could not help but weep. He had, in a sense, dragged Gary in to this—knowing that the young man, who in many ways was still a boy, had not been enough to bear the weight of his best friend's betrayal. And Brock had not helped. He lacked much sympathy for Gary, it was true, and Brock felt selfish for acting so single-mindedly towards his cause without any consideration for other whom might be affected by Ash's sudden reappearance. He has been so focused on the fact that Ash was alive. He was alive and now tangibly in their grasp, and Brock would not lose him this time. He would do anything he could to get the old Ash back, because Brock still believed that person existed.

Brock placed a hand on the empty pillow. He found the case cool and damp. Then, in a sudden fit of rage, he slammed his fist down in to the cushion and began tearing off the sheets and the blankets. He was in the process of such destruction when Kaleb and Clemont came in to the room. The two younger men went over to pull Brock back from tearing out the feathers of the pillow, from clawing at the comforter and mattress. They were two leaves trying to push back a boulder burying itself in dirt.

"He chose to leave," Clemont reasoned, sweating from the effort of holding Brock back, "you can't save us all."

"That idiot," Brock muttered. He clenched his fists in to the sheets. He began to calm down, and Clemont let go of him, backing away to give his friend space.

"We have an even bigger problem,"

"Not now, Kaleb," Clemont turned to give the younger boy a stern glare.

"I don't think you understand," Kaleb stepped forward. He placed a hand on Brock's shoulder. "We need to tell Drifter. We need to warn the others."

"What are you-,"

"No, he's right," Brock said, interrupting Clemont. He got up from the floor and stood by the bed as still as a stone. Then he lifted his head towards the door.

Outside, numerous shouts shot through the air, and a vibration began rattling the windows, as though a strong wind was picking up outside. Kaleb was the first to run to the glass, watching a dark storm begin to settle over the forest, the trees bending beneath strong gales coming from the west.

"This looks uncomfortably familiar," Kaleb muttered.

"Yup, time to go," Clemont grabbed the young trainer by the shirt, dragging him to follow Brock out the door of the barracks.

Brock shielded his eyes from the dirt and grass being torn from the ground, swirling about the air. He and the others rather blindly made their way to the sounds of distress coming from the center of the camp. Their steps picked up speed at the sound of Bonnie crying out for Dedenne and Kaleb. They found her beside a group of soldiers, their swords of light drawn and pokemon at hand.

"This storm…it is the Dark Army," Flynn said, standing beside a gigantic Pigeot, imbued with light, resting in its ultimate evolution form. "We have been found. Where is Drifter?"

xxxxx

Serena had seen the storm coming out of the trees from her room. Her stomach dropped so quickly that she vomited in a bin resting by the door. She struggled to stand, terrified, praying that she would not see him riding on the dark clouds with his great, black dragon. She suddenly wanted to become nothing but the wind blowing by and disappearing upon the horizon. She wanted to vanish and dissolve like an atom being split from its molecule. She felt her heart dying, contracting in to itself like as it bled from the stress old memories bore. She was not quite reliving the moment he left her, but reliving the moments where he'd look at her and be miles away. Too far for her to follow.

The door opened. Drifter came bounding in to the room, finding her doubled over the pail, still gagging. He bent down to help her up.

"Serena, are you all right to come with me?"

The young woman nodded. She let him lift her up by the arm and was led out in to the windstorm. She could feel her chest begin to burn as the storm drew closer. She clutched her heart and whimpered from the pain.

"I know it hurts, but be strong. It will not be like this forever."

Serena panted, sweat beginning to form on her neck. "Why does it not hurt the others?"

Drifter led her towards the center of camp where the others were gathering. He looked back at her only to make sure that she had not fainted.

"Your connection to the light is not complete. It will remain unfinished until the other half of you has either given up or…" He did not finish; and looked as though he had said too much. "You must be hidden. You cannot fight yet, because of the one who possesses the other half of your spirit holds you back. But the connection goes both ways. You must stay alive."

Serena had lost him. His words sounded like a foreigner's tongue, and she did not have the energy to decipher it. She could only hold on to him for strength, for even that was in fast decline. She wanted to be there, to help her friends, but the larger part of her was relieved that she was being hidden so that she would not have to fight him. She knew she would not be able to harm that boy even if she tried.

"Drifter!" Flynn cried out, "Where have you been? How has Lunala located our camp?"

"Well, we might know the answer to that," Kaleb muttered, but went silent under Brock's stare.

"None of that matters, we must be prepared to retreat. You know where to meet. I have told you where to go when this should happen." Drifter looked calm, but Serena could feel the tension in his muscles as he clenched her arm.

"Retreat!?" Flynn's eyes turned violent and he stabbed his bright sword in to the ground. "You're joking. We have an entire army here."

"This is not our entire army,"

"What?" Flynn looked as though he was about to explode.

"Fly to the mountain and you'll see."

Flynn was going to retaliate, but a deafening roar erupted from the forest, followed by a chorus of bestial sounds. The earth began to rattle with heavy stomps. The tree tops began to rustle, something large moving between their branches, breaking their trunks and causing some to fall. Out from the thicket bloomed a fog of darkness; the shadows pregnant with black pokemon, some being ridden by men dressed in black, holding up blades of onyx.

The first wave was a line of Tyrannitars, some as tall as the trees. Their armor was painted black and blue, their eyes were ablaze like red rubies reflecting a flame. In their jaws they began to breath fire, and bellowed out bursts of flames in to the camp.

Everyone scattered. Some took to the skies, following Flynn, and began to attack despite Drifter's orders. The Purehearted then met the Dark Army head on. Serena watched Arcanines, Dragonites, Charizards; pokemon of all kinds race by her, the clash of swords and shouts filled every fiber of the air. She saw Brock draw on his Onyx while Clemont called upon Luxray. Kaleb and Bonnie also joined in, but borrowed a Venasaurs as their own pokemon were not strong enough to hold their own yet.

Drifter knocked Serena to the ground out of a reaction to avoid a hyper beam, which blasted apart an armory behind them, splintering the wood upon its explosive collision. Serena looked up from the floor, her hair already tainted by dust and dirt, her pale face flushed with adrenaline. She turned to find Drifter, but instead found herself surrounded by swords and pokemon, all violently engaged in war. She tried to stand up, but something grabbed on to her leg, and pulled her back down. Serena looked to see a dark Garchomp, its fangs deep within her calf. She didn't even feel the blood as it came down her leg, she kicked the beast with her other foot was freed herself.

Again she tried to stand, but then the pain came and shot up her spine, dragging her back down to the floor where the pokemon pursued her, a dark trainer following close behind. He lifted his sword to finish her off, but was struck by flash of blue light and blown across the camp.

Serena took her chance and began crawling beneath the battle, clawing her way through the ground, tearing up the grass and the roots trying to find her way back to the surface. Her leg throbbed; pulsed like an erratic heartbeat about to give out. She felt faint. She reached out.

A rough hand grabbed her delicate wrist. She was lifted up, as easily as leaf, and found herself buried within a dark embrace. She could barely lift her eyes to see the man's face, her body weak and still weakening. The blood dripped hot down her skin. Serena gripped the man's arms, figuring it was either Drifter or Brock, but the arms felt familiar. So did the chest. So did the scent of the breath.

Serena began to grow cold.

The tall figure began to pull her away from the chaos, but she heard Drifter. He called out her name, in a voice more frantic and and more troubled than she had ever heard it before.

She felt the stranger's arms rest her against a fallen tree. The hands let her go gently. As he pulled away from her, she could feel her body react to him drawing back, and Serena didn't have to look up to know it was Ash.

She had memorized the way they felt together; and the way they felt apart. Serena stared down at the floor, avoiding the eyes—which she could feel—on her. She tried biting back her tears, but between his touch and the pain in her leg, Serena began to weep. Water fell down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. And she felt Ash kneel down, his hand reaching for her jaw…

"Get away from her!" Drift came bounding up upon his Dragonite. His sword drawn, aglow with white light.

Serena looked up to see Ash's face go dark, drawing his sword with a jerk of surprise. She watched the shock move up from his muscles to his face. He went white; his eyes growing darker beneath the contrast.

"I shouldn't be surprised," Ash growled, his face falling back in to its rigid intensity, "you just don't seem to die."

"This is between you and me, step away from the girl," Drift warned, lifting his sword to the level of Ash's throat.

Ash didn't move. His countenance seemed to be contorting in to itself, twitching with rage. To anyone watching the scene from afar, it looked as the the young man was about to erupt; to explode with hatred and fury towards Drifter—

But, Serena watched his eyes. His eyes began to flicker, lightening for just a moment—a tenth of a second—in to a familiar golden amber. She knew him then. She knew those eyes. They were jewels imprisoned behind burnt rock; glistening even behind their dark cases, waiting to be picked at and found and polished to take home. They held color that still fought to glow, like stars hidden behind thick clouds striking the earth with lightening; storms that fought to rid the world of stars and make men lose direction.

Serena did not need the stars to guide her. She loved him beyond the storms, and always would.

She reached out to touch him.