June 9th, First Year
Two months. Ingo made his way over the next hill, the faintest of smiles on his face as the warmth of the rising sun washed over him. The Obsidian Fieldlands rolled out before him like one gorgeous never-ending painting, the sun cresting behind him giving the earth a rosy glow. New and beautiful flowers bobbed in the gentle summer breeze.
Chandelure kept closely by his side as they descended through the mountains, its violet flames burning brightly as finally, they made their way to a small beaten dirt path between two steep mountain cliffs. Life seemed brighter, easier, and less lonely with the strange pokémon around. His pokémon around, he reminded himself.
It was hard to believe that he'd been gifted something from his past. Something living and something that wasn't cursed with amnesia like he was. His partner! His wonderful, extraordinary partner that wielded flames with mastery! The pokémon from his dreams! He thought it too good to be true until nearly weeping when he realized it had been two months since he'd reunited with his beloved friend.
Ingo wasn't entirely certain that Chandelure was the same partner that he remembered, though. Ever since he had allowed the pokémon to couple with him, he'd been noticing rather strange occurrences. Whenever he slept, his dreams were filled with images of the crystalline pokémon moving about as it moved from dream to dream.
Dreams that he knew always followed the same tracks would suddenly deviate. A bad nightmare about a pack of Zoroarks that always came during the full moon would suddenly morph into one about him and Chandelure walking through a suspiciously peaceful Alabaster Iceland path.
He would also grow excessively tired in its presence, sometimes blacking out in random places on his routes through the Coronet Highlands. Of course, his engine would feel as good as new when he awoke, but he couldn't help but grow nervous when he would awake and find Chandelure staring at him. Did Chandelure ever blink in the time that he knew the pokémon? Was it using moves on him or had he really grown that tired lately?
Ingo did not care. Apart from his suspicions, Chandelure had been nothing but helpful. She was stupendously strong. Stronger than even his own well-trained team of pokémon. Besides. He had seen this pokémon around the man-in-white in his dreams constantly. Dreams which were increasing and lengthening each time that he had them.
Ingo held tightly onto the old wooden box in his hands, his eyes set firmly on the gates to Jubilife Village. While helping Warden Lian survey the damage from Lord Kleavor's rampage some time ago, he'd found this capsule abandoned by the Fabled Spring, finding a weathered piece of bark paper inside. Though he could not understand the writing or the tense burning in his fingers that the paper brought upon being held, it had brought him subconsciously to Jubilife Village. There was bound to be someone within the village that could make sense of the item.
Not long after discovering the paper, he'd slipped into another amnesiac episode. But this time, it had been more different. More vivid. There had been no man-in-white but there had been Chandelure, a small cliff town glowing prettily under the stars at night, and most importantly, of a house that he stood in front of. The lights were on, and he could hear boisterous laughter ringing from an open window like the peal of a bell.
"Home," Chandelure had whispered to him before waking. And this dream did not fade like the others.
For the first time in years, Ingo's engine was starting to rumble back to life. The soreness and pain in his neck and lower back paled in comparison to the swelling of excitement in his chest. He was finally making progress! He was finally getting switched back onto his proper tracks! For the first time in years, the hole that he'd felt trapped in began to feel like it could be escaped.
"Warden Ingo!"
He was surprised by the volume of the village guard and tipped his hat to Ress as he approached. Ingo offered a polite smile. "Sir Ress! A fine good morning to you!" he called, tipping his hat in recognition.
"You as well, sir," Ress bowed. "Was the journey from the Highlands well? Did something good happen to you? You seem happier than usual."
"It would seem so, I suppose." Ingo bid Ress a goodbye and entered Jubilife, watching as the village slowly but surely came to life. There was a warm comfort in being surrounded by other people. Once, he would've been unnerved at the prospect, but Ingo once again recalled the memory of the village and of Chandelure calling it home. Their home. Maybe that was why the trips here never seemed to be as tiring as the others.
He picked up his usual supplies of food, cloth in case of tent rips or clothing tears, pokéballs, and charcoal before stuffing them into a replica of the basket Lady Sneasler had made for him. Jubilife was, by far, the most convenient place for obtaining useful items for his survival. He greatly preferred it to going to the Pearl Clan Settlement. Then, he made his way to the Galaxy Headquarters building for his main task.
As per usual, scouts were hustling around but with much less fervor and much more ease than the last time, talking and pointing at their maps, handling potions and goods and packs with care. Some smiled and gave him a friendly 'hello'. It was the first time Ingo had been warmly greeted by any of the scouts.
"Hmm? Oh! Warden Ingo! Hi!" A boy (Rei, he remembered) popped his head out from one of the offices covered in sweat, bits of rock and red dye. "It's good to see you!" the boy cheered, a wide grin plastered onto his face. "Whenever you get the chance, could I ask you something?"
"Of course! By due means, please ask away Young Rei. I seem to have time as of now."
He was then ushered into the professor's lab where he was greeted with the sight of Chandelure's old pokéball, Rei having kept the strange contraption in a glass jar. Another pokéball was right beside it, laid out next to a pristine crafting bench.
"I managed to convince Jaku to give me that old pokéball that belonged to your Chandelure but it's nothing like the ones the Galaxy Team makes! I've been studying the differences between them ever since I got them and- well-See, there's no latch or anything on yours. It's weird."
"It is from another time," Professor Laventon cut in tiredly, a pencil in his hand as he scribbled away at a stack of notes at his desk. "Definitely more advanced than our own. Perhaps a few centuries into the future, even." He shot Ingo an amused look.
Chandelure seemed to hate their old pokéball now but looking at it made Ingo feel all warm and fuzzy all over again. Pleasant memories were attached to that thing, but they were memories he just couldn't remember. Chandelure floated over to carefully take its former ball, handing it to Ingo. It was like a match being lit.
"I think it does something else too," Ingo murmured. With a quick squeeze of his hand, the pokéball shrank to the size of an oran berry and when he rolled it into his palm with a muscle memory he'd thought forgotten, the ball expanded back to its regular size. "I'm not quite sure why a pokéball would need to do that, to be honest-"
"…That is the coolest thing I've ever seen!" Rei gasped. "You've got to show me that again! Please, please, please? Do it again!"
"Rei, your manners," Laventon scolded him.
Ingo shook his head and with Rei's persistence and Laventon's sudden interest in the item, he demonstrated the strange ability of the pokéball three times more. After Rei had thanked him profusely, the boy shook his hand, grabbed his notes, and scurried out of the room with a new spring in his step.
"My apologies about Rei," Professor Laventon piped up. He ran a hand through his dark hair as he shot Ingo an apologetic glance. "The boy's a real genius when it comes to innovations concerning pokémon but he can be a bit of a handful when he's excited like that."
"Oh? I don't mind the slightest, professor. It's nice to see such enthusiasm nowadays. It reminds me of somebody from my past though I'm not quite sure of who." Ingo then caught the professor's eye. "And I thought I might ask you a few questions myself if you wouldn't mind too terribly."
Laventon arched an eyebrow, smiling. "Nonsense, my dear man! I saw that strange box you were carrying when Rei dragged you in. Is that what you wanted to ask me about or is it something else?" He waved Ingo over to the small table and Ingo obliged, taking a seat on the couch opposite from Laventon's.
"No, you're correct. I was wondering if perhaps this means anything to you. I found this box at the Fabled Spring while assisting Warden Lian some time ago." Ingo carefully handed over the wooden box. As soon as it had left his hands, his fingers itched to reclaim the paper, afraid that the memory he had gained from having it might vanish. But nothing happened.
"Interesting." Laventon laid the bark paper on his desk and eyes wide, began smiling. He turned the paper over and gently laid it over the light of a lantern. "Fascinating! There are inscriptions within the paper, too delicate to see without the aid of my lantern here." He then shuffled the paper around some more, his eyes wandering back to Chandelure's old pokéball. "While I take a look, may I confide to you an ideal of mine?"
"You may."
"I started researching for the Galaxy Team some odd years ago when Jubilife Village came to be and never in all my days as a researcher has this much sheer-" Laventon shook his head with a crooked grin- "volume of information emerged for the first time! First, it was Young Akari with a pronounced skill with pokémon never before seen anywhere else in the world. Now it is you with relics of the past-" he glanced at the pokéball and then at the box, flicking the paper again- "and relics of the future."
"Then what is your ideal?" The word felt warm on his tongue too. Achingly familiar.
"My ideal? That this information we gather is the pioneer of living alongside pokémon! Every step we take towards becoming more knowledgeable about our cohabitants of this world erases the strings of fear that come from our ignorance! It's groundbreaking stuff!"
"Just the fact that pokéballs are so advanced where you come from is amazing!" Rei chipped in, having ducked back into the room to grab something. "Everybody is so afraid of pokémon here but you, Akari, and Jaku? You guys are something else! Maybe that's my ideal as well: that one day, we won't fear pokémon and that instead of living in fear of them, we'll live beside them as equals."
Ingo smiled, a genuine up-to-his-eyes smile, regarding the new pokéball with fondness and wonder. "I feel in my heart that your ideals will become the truth," he spoke, a newfound vigor resounding through his words. "Pokémon are not merely tools for survival or power; they are our partners. Our friends. They grow stronger through the bonds forged from traveling, enduring hardships, and through battle." He glanced lovingly at Chandelure as he continued. "My memory seems to become clearer the more I put that theory into practice."
Chandelure seemed to light up at the last item on the list, tendrils curling around Ingo's chest as it nuzzled into his back. Ingo had noticed the little nicks in her steel frame and glass globe, but they seemed to be just like the scars that littered Ingo's own body: battle scars.
"Then I hope that is at least true," Laventon replied. "That people will eventually come to respect and befriend pokémon."
"Me too!" Rei nodded.
Laventon cleared his throat. "As for this document, I'm not quite sure what this paper means but I do know a colleague upstairs who might be able to read this. I believe this might have been written in ancient Celestican. Once I figure it out, the translation is yours, my friend."
Friend? Laventon regards me as his friend? Ingo pulled the brim of his hat down to cover his eyes. "Thank you, Sir Laventon."
"Always with the formalities!" the man chided.
Ingo rested in a spare room of the training arena barracks having just finished a cup of tea with Captain Zisu after pitting their teams against one another. Battling always seemed to shake off the cloud of dust that settled in his mind and he had come up with a new suggestion on battle rotations for his good friend.
To his surprise, Warden Calaba had paid Jubilife a visit and they had bumped into one another at the market. Ingo's relation with his fellow warden was tense due to him having captured his team in pokéballs. She seemed to tolerate him with how happy his pokémon were whenever she saw them. And just when he'd thought their conversation over, Calaba handed him a mud-stained wooden box much like the one he'd found.
"I do believe this might be something you'd be interested in," she had rasped, hands behind her back. "I found this in the Mirelands during my survey about a week ago. With how Lady Irida seems to believe you were sent by Almighty Sinnoh and this being a poem about their origins, I'll give this to you. Do protect it, young man."
Ingo couldn't help the slightly rude words that came out of his mouth. "You can read this?"
Calaba covered her ears with her hands. "It's in Celestican, fool! And for Almighty Sinnoh's sake, speak quietly!" After shaking her head, she continued, albeit, softer. "I was taught how to read it when I was a little girl. I'm the only one who can within the Pearl Clan." Calaba turned away. "It is a different lettering system than the form of Hisuian that we clans have now. It's a dying skill. Hopefully, you get some use out of it. I surely won't."
Now, night began to fall on the village and Ingo, sensing Chandelure coming to rest next to his side, crawled into his futon and closed his eyes. Sleep had come much easier since Chandelure had arrived. The pokémon had been among his last thoughts as he drifted off.
"Ingo! Watch out! You're about to step into a snowdrift."
Ingo was tugged roughly to the side, nearly dropping his hat as Emmet pulled him away from the flat expanse of fresh snow before him. Snowflakes whistled around them as they walked farther, Emmet's (sharp) fingers never leaving the hem of Ingo's coat. Thunder rolled along the mountains that towered over the Alabaster Icelands, promising an avalanche as the two brothers returned from their trip to… to- where had they just come from?
"Ingo. Another snowdrift," Emmet reminded him, poking him in the back.
"Right."
"You've been scatterbrained lately!" Emmet commented, clapping his brother on the back. "It's not like you." He steered Ingo clear of another snowdrift and linked their arms together. "No worries. We will reach our destination shortly."
Strange. Emmet never wore red gloves before, Ingo thought to himself.
"Chandelure is just trying to readjust after fasting," Ingo responded curtly. "I need no repairs nor worrying conductors fretting over me. This isn't the first time this has happened."
"You nearly forget half of our bags in the village. It's not the first time but this is by far the worst one to date." Emmet's smile slipped from his face, and he gave a reassuring tug on Ingo's arm; a silent but daring push. "Are you sick? I know Chandelure feeds off of your life essence, but it's starting to become worrying."
"I am fine," Ingo insisted, tugging back on his brother. "I just need to regulate my sleep more than I usually do."
"I think you should keep her in the living room tonight. Good thing you never did add another ghost-type to our team," Emmet commented snidely.
"Quiet, you."
After a bit of walking in comfortable silence, Ingo noticed that Emmet's footsteps had died out. He turned, expecting to see his younger brother beside him but he felt his voice die out and shrivel in his throat when bright golden eyes stared back at him.
That was not his brother. Ingo got as far away from the creature as he could, watching as the form of his brother twisted into the visage of a large Zoroark. Its white and blood-red fur wavered in the wind like tendrils of smoke, a cruel sharp smile on its face as it approached, its red claws outstretched.
Footsteps crunched in the snow. Ingo froze. More and more Zoroarks came climbing out of the snow, surrounding him quickly as they grabbed at his shoes and coat. One caught him by the fringe of his hair and forced him into the snow. He shut his eyes tight.
This is only a nightmare, he thought hurriedly to himself. I am safe wherever I am. I am not in any danger here. This is a dream. I will wake up shortly. I will-"
"ANOTHER WAYWARD SOUL NOT WHERE IT SHOULD BE."
Ingo paused. The sounds of the squabbling Zoroarks had vanished completely but a new terrible kind of pressure had settled onto his upper back. He rose and then turned around, staring at the behemoth of a creature behind him. Obscured by the darkness of night and the whirling of the snow, Ingo could only make out the creature's burning red eyes. A fork of lightning lit up the sky, revealing a serpentine-like body and wings. Ingo could not speak. Not when the storm was so loud that it nearly deafened him. But this creature's voice roared in his ears with a cold quiet that rooted Ingo to the spot. This was not a dream.
"I CANNOT RETURN YOU BACK TO YOUR PLACE." The creature stooped lower, red eyes catching on Ingo's garment and in particular, the pale tunic he wore underneath his frayed jacket. "YOU MUST DO AS IT WISHES FIRST. I WILL GUIDE YOU AS MY CHAMPION. COLLECT THE OLD VERSES FOR ME AND THEN I WILL RETURN YOU TO YOUR RIGHTFUL PLACE."
And when Ingo awoke in a panic, Chandelure had already beaten him to the punch holding the two verses in her tendrils with a fearful but firm expression. He took deep rasping breaths to calm himself down, clutching fearfully onto the collar of his tunic as a bead of sweat rolled down his face. This dream did not slip away from him like all the others.
The man in white- Emmet- had been there. He could finally remember the name! He had a brother! He could finally remember why looking at his reflection in rivers and lakes made him want to cry out in relief.
And then he paused. He scowled and shook his head, running a clammy hand through his sleep-tousled hair. Those were only Zoroarks. Only the illusion of the man-in-white. They always wore the visage of the man-in-white to lure him closer. He'd grown better at avoiding them during his waking hours but as he reflected on his dream, he felt no better than a tricked boy. That was all it was. Just a trick. Maybe his broken mind had just been substituting things as was usual. Maybe Emmet wasn't Emmet at all.
As he cleared that nasty thought from his head, his eyes widened, finding something glowing from underneath his folded jacket on the floor. He reached for the item. It was the strange metal bracelet that he'd brought with him when he had arrived in Hisui all that time ago.
Now the device glowed pink and white, the previously dead screen humming back to life as he held the screen closer to see better. Ingo read what was on the screen and hummed thoughtfully to himself before laying the device back down and then moving back to rest.
He now knew his next destination: he was to head back to the Alabaster Icelands to obtain something called a Lustrous Orb.