On the first day of every month, Clarity would spend the evening at the Pawprint Café in attendance of her book club – that is, provided she found the meetings worthy of holding her interest for the entire evening. She had no qualms about leaving early if the discussion bored her to death, which wasn't exactly a rare occurrence. Even still, she often found herself looking forward to the next meeting, going back every month in the hopes that she could experience a meaningful, insightful conversation about the book of the month. Even if she had to start such conversations herself.
As the sunlight from the windows faded to dusk, Clarity lounged on her chair in a lazy circle with ten other Pokémon, enjoying the peaceful, cozy atmosphere of the Café. The peacefulness came from the Café not exactly being a popular establishment – the book clubs were probably the most activity the place saw in the course of the whole month – and the coziness came from the place being too damn cramped, barely able to accommodate fifteen average-sized Pokémon. The potted plants near the windows were all plastic, as they'd probably all die from neglect if they were real. The chalkboard menu by the front door hadn't even been updated in so long, the chalk was probably impossible to erase. But such things were easy enough to overlook, as long as she could relax from a long day of work and have the chance to socialize. And the place did have its merits. The pastel drawings of legendary Pokémon on the wall were quite pleasant to the eye, and Clarity often found her gaze drawn in by the colorful Entei picture across from her favorite chair as she waited for the meeting to begin, losing herself to the deep red swirls of flame like losing herself to a pleasant dream.
Occasionally, as she waited for the clock to strike eight and the meeting to begin, Clarity felt so inclined as to reach out from the silence of her mind and join in with the idle conversations of the other club members. As her own ears didn't function, she needed to voluntarily peer into the minds of the other Pokémon and listen through theirs. But in doing so, such an inclination to socialize would often diminish into a mere interest to passively eavesdrop on their conversations, and then back to blocking everything out again and being content in her own private silence. It consistently amazed her how Pokémon smalltalk could possibly be so inane and pointless. Here were ten Pokémon who were, at the very least, literate; she figured it could be worth the effort to try engaging in banter with some of them. But they left her disappointed every time. They only ever seemed interested in discussing the weather or relationship gossip, or – actually, that was it. Just relationship gossip. Someone was having a disagreement with their mate. Someone's mate was cheating on them. Someone had a dashing new boyfriend. It was all the same, all just a petty, utter waste of breath that reminded her why she preferred the structured, intellectual discussions which were to begin soon enough.
She never even got far enough to learn any of the other members' names. Of course she could easily read anyone's mind to know their name, but there was no reason to expend that much effort for information she had no use for. It was good enough to know everyone by sight and character. There was the Servine girl who led most of the meetings, taking silent attendance of the members. There was the studious Braixen brushing through her book one last time before the meeting. There was the childish Togetic idly munching at a pecha strudel. That was how she remembered everyone. Besides, even if she did learn their names, members were constantly leaving the club and being replaced by new ones, so there wasn't any point. At least, she thought they were constantly changing. Maybe. Probably.
In blocking out all the banter, Clarity once again wondered how Pokémon could even survive with functioning ears in the first place, to be constantly overwhelmed and brainwashed by a cacophony of meaningless blather that can't be blocked out. Yes, some Pokémon claimed they could "tune out" undesirable sounds if they focused hard enough, but that was absolute nonsense. Just a self-convincing lie that Pokémon tell themselves. All it took was one peek into their minds to know that Pokémon are affected by everything they hear, even when they don't know it.
Clarity was taking a sip of her warm ceylon tea when she noticed the Servine clapping her hands together, signifying the start of the meeting. She reached out with her mind and telepathically linked herself to Servine's sense of hearing, preparing to partake in the discussion. Thankfully, all the mindless banter in the room had settled down, and the sounds of Pokémon voices became far more bearable to her.
"Anyway, I think it's time that we got started," said the Servine's voice as it echoed into Clarity's mind. "I know the book this month was on the longer side, at least by our standards, but I hope everyone managed to finish. Anyone not finish?"
Not a single Pokémon admitted to not finishing the book, although a cursory glance at everyone's mind revealed that two of them stopped reading as soon as they thought they knew enough to sound smart in front of a group, and another two basically did a superficial skim over the whole thing and had half the characters' names confused with one another. How typical. Clarity had no reason to call them out – yet – although she knew that if they disagreed with her about anything, she had easy ammunition to use against them.
Meanwhile, Clarity glanced down at her own copy of the book on the center table with the smug satisfaction of a student who'd actually finished an assignment while their classmates were jittering with dread and scrambling for excuses, a feeling she'd quite enjoyed since her earliest hatchling years. The Great and Beautiful Wonderland was indeed quite the journey, being over five hundred pages in length, but Clarity found it an easy read for its straightforward prose and witty dialogue. It had its share of problems, such as a particular subplot about a hunt for hidden treasure that went absolutely nowhere, but Clarity found it an overall decent read.
"To begin with, I wonder what everyone thought of the plot?" said the Servine pleasantly, flipping the book open with her vine to glance at her notes. "I know I certainly have some talking points here, but I'd like to hear what everyone else thought first."
"I thought it was amazing!" cheered the Mismagius who hadn't even finished the book, fishing for something generic to say, and failing to even answer the question. "I loved the whimsical air of the story. I have to say, the writer really knew what they were doing, making the whole story take place in a giant dream where anything can happen. It was such a cute book! It reminded me a lot of children's stories I used to read."
"Well, I've heard that some Pokémon do consider it a children's book," said the Audino. "My eldest son actually read this book when he was only three! Though, I don't think everything made sense to him at the time. He really didn't understand why Viktor chose to stay in the dream at the end while everyone else got to leave. To be fair, that's not something you'd understand until you're older. But I think it was a pretty straightforward adventure story that anyone can understand."
"Hey, can anyone tell me what was up with the Buneary following the group? The one that unlocked all the doors in the dungeon when nobody was looking? And broke the unbreakable wall? I didn't get that part at all," said the Togetic. "They didn't have a single line in the whole story!"
"The way I see it, the Buneary was a guardian spirit of sorts, manifested by the dreamer's sense of optimism," said the studious Braixen. "The Buneary only solved problems when everyone's eyes were turned. Like the way an optimist inexplicably believes success can be possible, even in the blatant face of impossibility. And we know at the end that the dreamer had many things to be hopeful about."
"You're far too kind," said the Lilligant. "I would have just called it lazy writing. Just an excuse for the author to skip over sections they don't want to write about."
So the group discussed the plot for a while, mostly giving it praise for its whimsical yet simple direction. Clarity wasn't terribly surprised; she knew that nobody in the group, save for maybe the Braixen, was a fan of difficult narratives. She recalled the time a couple of months ago that the group had finally taken one of her own recommendations and read Souls of Black, and borderline everyone at the table admitted they didn't understand the meaning of the ending, or whether the main character actually existed in the first place (yes, it was one of those stories). It was one of Clarity's favorites, though she knew they were never going to read another one of the author's other stories after that, and by the looks of it, probably weren't going to take another one of her suggestions either.
Clarity idly listened to the ongoing conversation as she drank the rest of her tea and debated buying a bowl of that Pidove soup that had been advertised as "new" on the chalkboard for the past three years; she quite liked the taste of it.
"Alright, next on the agenda: anyone want to talk about their favorite characters?" said the echo of the Servine's voice.
Clarity instantly perked up. She'd been waiting for this part of the discussion. She pointedly set down her empty cup and sat up attentively, swiveling her twin tails in knowing anticipation.
"Let's start with Xander," the Meowstic offered to the whole table through her telepathy (which was thankfully possible because none of them were dark-types). "I find him the most compelling character in the story."
"Evil. Evil, evil, evil," chortled the Salandit at the edge of the table. "Every single line he said, I just wanted him to diiiie."
"Oh gods, yes!" said the Lucario sitting beside her. "It's like, 'Hey, I'm out for a walk! What shall I do today? Oh, how about BURN DOWN A WHOLE VILLAGE FOR NO REASON!' You think Violet and Marigold finally get a moment to rest, but NOPE! They get to watch all the innocent Pokémon get MURDERED! Ugh! I wanted to strangle him after that scene!"
"Made my day when he finally got what was coming to him," the Audino said. "Just watching Marigold finally have enough of that bastard and sink that knife into his chest at the end. Like, yessss. So satisfying. He SO deserved it."
Everyone uttered in enthusiastic agreement. Yes, Xendar deserved to die. He was a terrible Pokémon. A suave and dashing Decidueye with beautiful white plumage, but with a soul of bloodstained garbage. A terrible, terrible villain that needed to die.
Or so everyone said. Everyone except for Clarity.
"Actually…" Clarity started to say.
And that was all it took for the unanimous agreement at the table to turn into groans and rolling eyes. Silence came over the group as they all gave her a tired stare. Some of them simply shook their heads and took a bite out of their refreshments, as though wanting to distance themselves from the conversation.
"No. No, Clarity. Not 'actually,'" said the Lucario quickly as she waved her paw at Clarity, springing on the moment as though expecting it from miles away. "There is no 'actually' when it comes to Xander. Look… he straight-up killed everyone in Quietroot Village for no reason. He killed everyone in Castle Grail for no reason. He was going to kill Marigold and Violet if the Buneary hadn't sacrificed itself. HE ATE HIS OWN BROTHER. ATE HIM. Please. For the sakes of all our sanity, just let someone be a simple, straightforward villain for once, okay?"
"This is Clarity we're talking about," muttered the Salandit. "Where you see a simple, straightforward villain, she sees a challenge of mental gymnastics. The sky is blue, water is wet, and Clarity absolutely must find excuses to like whatever everyone else hates, and hate whatever everyone else likes."
Clarity shook her head. "I'm not saying Xander isn't a villain. I'm saying there's more to him than you're giving him credit for. He's – ."
"We know, we know, 'he's misunderstood,'" said the Lucario, heavy with sarcasm. She crossed her arms stubbornly. "Alright, Clarity, go on. Let's see you try and justify anything that Xander did. Explain your way out of this one. I dare you."
Clarity calmly opened the book and flipped to a particular page she bookmarked, knowing it would come in handy. "Page one twenty-five," she started, speaking with an even tone. "When Marigold confronts Xander after torching the village, he says, and I quote, 'It pained me, just as it pained you, but I did what must be done. Bright burns the fire of destruction, but brighter still burns the ceaseless purgatory of complacency, of which I have set you free.' Xander burned the village because he knew that Marigold and Violet would have stayed there forever, never finishing their journey. We know he was convinced the dream world was a prison. He needed them to continue so they would wake the dreamer and set everyone free, lest more and more Pokémon be sucked into the dream until the whole real world became trapped there."
"Oh, and I suppose you didn't hear the SNEERING IRONY in his voice when he said those lines?" shot the Lucario back. "Or did you miss the part where he was LAUGHING MANIACALLY when he set the fire? He obviously only said those lines so that Marigold would let him go, and then look, he blows up Castle Grail five chapters later! ALSO while laughing maniacally!"
"First, the maniacal laughter was that of crazed pain and despair, knowing there was no other option," returned Clarity, still unperturbed. "Second, he destroyed Castle Grail because King and Queen were planning to assassinate Marigold and Violet that night in their sleep."
The Lucario looked offended and baffled. "Excuse me? Where was THAT in the book?" she returned.
"Wasn't it obvious? The author went out of their way to mention that King smiles strangely when he speaks of people dying," she said. "And also mentions how footsteps in the castle don't make a sound. And also mentions that the guards stationed outside their room used to be assassins. There's no other reason for those details to be mentioned. Personally, I think the signs were clear."
"Wow, what a stretch," growled the Lucario. "And by the way, how do you justify him EATING HIS BROTHER, exactly?"
"I don't know, but I'm sure he had a good reason," Clarity simply stated, closing her eyes. "Seeing that this takes place in a dream world, and seeing that the act was surreal in nature, I'm certain that it had a deeper symbolic meaning of some kind. Though I failed to determine the author's exact intention, I stand by my opinion."
"Maybe because the author's intention was to show you that HE'S EVIL!" Shouted the Lucario, slamming her fists on the table.
The Servine then spread her vines as though to separate the two feuding Pokémon. "Alright, alright, alright. That's enough, you two. I don't think dwelling on this topic for any longer will get us anywhere. Clarity has quite made her point, but when it starts devolving into a real-world battle, that's where I have to draw the line. I appreciate your… provocative insight, Clarity, but at the end of the day, we all have to accept the fact that some Pokémon believe that the ends don't justify the means."
That makes no difference. Every Pokémon uses the ends to justify the means, Clarity wanted to say. The only difference is whether or not they realize what they're doing.
Clarity had a whole diatribe she'd planned about Xander, about how he was symbolic of the dreamer's cynicism in the same way the Buneary symbolized optimism. There was a reason they were a raptor and a bunny, a bird and their prey. She knew Xander's purpose was to illustrate how cynicism is sometimes necessary to find the correct answers, even though it can be unpleasant and cause much collateral damage. She realized with a twinge of regret that she'd missed her opportunity to present those thoughts to the group.
But they wouldn't understand anyway. They'd just tell her that she's reading too deeply into things and that it's just supposed to be a simple, superficial adventure story and not anything complex and full of existential crisis. Worse yet, she knew in her core that she was right, that this must have been what the author intended with the character, that there was no other explanation for the way he was written. And yet, she knew there'd be no way to convince them otherwise at this rate, especially since several of the group members were very hungry to get to certain other discussions.
"We have to get to the other characters anyway," predictably said the Servine, obviously too eager to change the topic. "So, who's next? Anyone?"
"Fine, how about we talk about Marigold and Violet, and their budding relationship?" Clarity sighed. "Even though they have no chemistry because the author has no idea how relationships actually work, and only paired them because that's what everyone expects from a story like this? Better yet, how about you have your fun talking about them, and I find better things to do with my evening? Xander was the only part of the book I found worth discussing anyway. Fine, then. See you next month."
Clarity decided against ordering the Pidove soup. Instead, she collected her copy of the book and excused herself from the meeting. But she did take one last peek into the Servine's mind as she walked out the door, wondering if they were all murmuring about her and bidding her good riddance. Instead, she just heard the Togetic beaming with "Oh, the buried treasure scene? That was the best! Soooo romantic!"
She sighed in disappointment, already wondering if next month would be the month she would actually get through to anyone in that group.
Clarity's home was a bit different than some of the houses that belonged to the residents of Amber Haven. While there was a residential district where many of the homes lay clustered together in neat little rows, Clarity's home was more in the outskirts where the trees grew thicker. It had to be out there, because the Meowstic's home was a treehouse.
It wasn't very fancy nor was it very large. It was simply a wooden box sitting atop the thick branches of a century-old oak with a little balcony and a lengthy stairway granting access to the entrance. Not that Griffith ever used the staircase of course. Or Clarity for that matter.
She could see orb-light glowing softly from within the house through the windows. Clarity unfolded her ears and closed her eyes. As the world grew dark, she channeled her eyes into the arcane, unsettling oval-shaped organs. Yellow pupils filled into the red and suddenly, Clarity no longer needed her eyes. She could see everything through the psychic lens. Trees, grass, rocks, the house, and the sky itself lost its color and was nothing more than a black and white outline of itself. But any living creatures in the general vicinity? She could see them more clearly than ever. They radiated like miniature suns, their bodies giving off a golden, divine glow. They shined so brightly, that the light went straight through inanimate objects, as was the case now.
Clarity could easily see a certain Gardevoir's outline lingering within the house. He seemed to be sitting down, enjoying a glass of wine. It seemed he had bought his Mergo's Merlot after all.
She lifted off the ground and floated to the top of the staircase until she levitated a few inches off the house's platform. Pleased with her gained altitude, she folded up her ears and withdrew her power from the psychic eyes. Color rushed back into the world as she opened her ordinary, unenlightened eyes and descended with grace, not a noise uttered as her feet settled onto the platform.
She opened the door and stepped inside.
While the outside of her home had been relatively simple and humble, the same couldn't be said for the inside. With Nibiru and Griffith's help, Clarity had furnished the interior to the brim with as many lavish decorations as the three could afford in the one-room house. A large, sprawling rug of Wooloo that ran across the floor. A book shelf filled to the brim with tomes that nearly took up an entire wall. A massive horde of stuffed animals on the other side of the room arranged in such a way that they resembled a makeshift bed. A glowing violet orb the size of Clarity's head resting near the balcony that projected constellations across the ceiling. A mahogany table off to the side carefully arranged with strange, curious sculptures that seemed to be made from glass.
And there was Griffith, lying across the red lawson sofa with a glass of red wine levitating beside him.
She had barely entered the room when the Gardevoir's gaze shifted over to her. The telepathic bond between them reconnected, and she was suddenly flooded with the way he experienced her bitterness. It was weaker than how she actually felt. If she felt as though an inferno were burning in her chest, then Griffith experienced it as sitting only a little too close to a fireplace. To most Pokemon, it would be strange to experience your own feelings through someone else, even if that was expected of Griffith's kind. But Clarity was not most Pokemon, and neither was Griffith.
She latched onto how he experienced her bitterness, shutting out how it actually felt inside her own body, and she focused. Focused on how much he had numbed it and told herself that was how she felt now. The feeling that she had been experiencing moments prior? It didn't exist, it wasn't real.
Moments later, that was her reality, and she could barely sense that same feeling from Griffith anymore. He had watered down an already watered down emotion. It was tempting to latch onto that as well, to dilute the feeling further.
"Welcome back," he greeted telepathically, making no effort to move from his comfortable spot. "Do I even need to bother asking how book club was?"
"You already know the answer to that," Clarity answered as she made her way over to the couch.
He didn't even bother moving to allow her more room; he instead teleported a few inches above the sofa and had positioned himself so that he fell back onto the cushions in a sitting position. Clarity hopped up onto the couch and sat beside him. He leaned back as he took a long, savoring sip of his wine. She then felt him smile within her mind's eye, a little bubble of affection, along with an unspoken offer of wine.
She held out her paw, and the glass instantly teleported into her grasp. She shot Griffith the mental image of her shaking her head as she savored the sweet, rich wine.
"Sometimes I think you only teleport everything as much as you do because you want to show off," she quipped.
"Oh Clarity, if you had the same power I did, you would be the exact same way," he chuckled within her mind, all while keeping a blank face on the outside.
He had her there, and he realized that, because he gave her an affectionate pat on the head. Physically too, not a mere mental projection of it. Not that Clarity minded too much.
"I'm not terribly sure why you keep going to that book club when you always get into arguments every month," Griffith said as he crossed one leg over the other. "Is it not tiring having pointless conversations where no one agrees with you?"
"I keep hoping they'll eventually come around," she admitted. "I keep thinking that one day, we'll find a book that we see eye to eye on. It simply hasn't happened yet."
"Keep it up, and you might be kicked out of the club."
"Then I'll find another one. You talk as though the one I currently attend is the only one in existence."
"From how you have consistently attended this current club for over a year, it would not be difficult to believe this is the only one in existence."
The Gardevoir snickered internally before opening up his hand. A second later, the wine glass blinked out of reality and was back in his grasp. He took another drink, all while Clarity debated grabbing a glass of her own.
She decided against it and instead fell sideways into Griffith's lap, using him as a makeshift pillow. Her tails idly swiveled behind her as she closed her eyes and breathed softly. She took in that watered-down bitterness from him again, smothering her resentful feelings further.
"Where's Nibiru anyway?" she asked.
"Out," Griffith said casually. "Probably dancing atop some mountains considering it's a full moon out tonight."
"You know he doesn't actually do that."
"I don't know, maybe he does. He never tells me what he does on nights like these. Maybe he does spend the whole night dancing amongst his kind. Or maybe he spends the full moon nights kidnapping children and sacrificing them to Shadowweaver. He's a fairy, I wouldn't put it past him."
"You're also a fairy."
"Half fairy. My sophisticated psychic blood quells the uncultured and inane urges I would have if I were fully a fairy. It's why I don't hoard stuffed toys."
Clarity couldn't resist a mental giggle at that. Yes, Nibiru was a rather strange Clefable, but that was expected of his kind. She had known him for six years now, and yet he still had an air of mystery to him she couldn't quite figure out. It was like he enjoyed being somewhat secretive despite his dependable nature. She would have thought he'd outgrow that when he was older than both her and Griffith by a good ten years, but perhaps as a fairy, his mind grew more childish as the years went on.
"By the way," Griffith then said. "Hazel visited earlier today while you were at your book club. He says Pontifex wants to speak with you."
And indeed, that was true. She saw Griffith's memory of the communication and Hazel had swooped over hours prior just when Griffith had settled in for the day. She dug into the memory, trying to read more into it, and the Gardevoir let her in. He let her see that Hazel didn't tell Griffith why Pontifex wanted to see Clarity; he only stated that Pontifex awaited her. There was no hint of what Pontifex wanted on Hazel's face; only that ghoulish little smile seemingly permanently etched onto his spectral face.
She left the memory and stared absently at nothing in particular. She didn't know what Pontifex could have wanted. Her job performance had been quite adequate, exceeding expectations even. She had yet to fail vanquishing a Nightmare. She didn't think she had done anything in recent memory.
Her fur started to stand on end, and she could feel Griffith's perception of it. She focused on it and watered it down, again and again, until her body no longer felt tense.
She spent the next hour on the couch with him, vapidly taking in his stray thoughts and recollections of the day while he did with hers, neither reacting to the other's except for the occasional little mental quip.
It was only after she only saw hazy colors and heard soft, jumbled sounds in his mind did she stop. She removed herself from the slumbering Gardevoir and after taking a moment to bask in the peaceful imagery, finally set off to meet with Pontifex.
It was best to do this as soon as possible, and night was the best time to visit him anyway. He resided halfway across the country, but that wasn't an issue for Clarity when there were several dozen teleporters set up across the continents.
Besides, it wasn't as though she had to travel far to find a teleporter. There was one in Amber Haven that was available for use all day and night and was only a half hour walk away. It wasn't anything particularly fancy, only a mere metal square with a strange, glowing rune etched onto the surface.
The Meowstic brushed back her ears when she reached the teleporter and stepped onto the tile. The moment her feet touched the metal, white light filled her vision and her body disintegrated into atoms.
Then, just as quickly as her body had been destroyed, it rearranged itself back together into a Meowstic.
Clarity stepped off the new transporter and found herself in the midst of a large, dense forest. It was far removed from civilization, stretching for miles and miles in every direction. If one were to gaze upon the forest from atop the canopy, they'd find that the forest seemed to go on forever. One wouldn't find a river or mountains anywhere in sight.
She stepped off the teleporter and made her way over to the nearest tree, a pine tree that had a large collection of dry needles building at the base of the trunk. She dusted away a couple of pine cones that were too close together before taking a seat. The needles poked at her fur, but thankfully it wasn't too uncomfortable. She leaned against the trunk as she settled her paws on her chest and took a few deep breaths. She let herself drift, let the lethargy she had been fighting over slowly pull her under.
There was no need to worry that she would be harmed in The Empty Woods as she slowly fell asleep. No Pokemon lived here. For whatever reason, the forest remained vacant, uninhabited.
Almost.
"You received my message."
The Meowstic opened her eyes. She was still in the woods, leaning against the same tree she had fallen asleep against. However, the sky had changed. Once filled with stars, now only black stared back at her. The entire forest was veiled in deep darkness.
The only source of light was from the glow of a single blue eye a few feet away from her.
Clarity stood up. None of the pine needles stuck to her fur, because there weren't needles underneath the tree anymore.
"I did," she said politely, bowing her head. "Apologies for not arriving sooner; I had received the message late because I had been away while Hazel visited."
"There is no reason for apologies. You were timely, as you always are."
She felt a breeze blow through the woods. It felt soothing, warm.
"I do deplore wasting time, so I will make this brief as I can. I called you here because the Zorua you saved the other day wanted to be a Dream Eater herself."
"Does she now? I can't imagine she's any older than seven. I didn't realize we took Pokemon that young."
"Under normal circumstances, that is the case. However, I've made a special exception for her, considering she lives on borrowed time. I estimate she has three months before death takes her."
Clarity had known something was wrong with that Zorua the moment she dived into the fox's Dream. She felt the weakness, the lingering threat of death that whispered in wispy voices, the deep dark dread that one only feels as hope is slowly drowned in ravenous despair. The Nightmares always targeted these Pokemon so close to death, and Clarity knew the Zorua was no different when she entered her Dream. However, she didn't realize the child's time was so soon. She was somehow under the impression she had at least a couple years left.
She took a deep breath, attempting to push the pity deep down where she couldn't feel it anymore. She still felt it bubbling beneath the surface despite this, but this was the best she could do when she didn't have Griffith with her. Hopefully this conversation wouldn't last much longer.
"I suppose I can't blame you for not wanting to hurt her feelings if she only has that much time left. However, why tell me this?"
"Why, because she had specifically requested to join your trio. She would have no one else but her saviors."
Her composed expression fractured.
"I refuse. I'm sorry Pontifex, but I will not take her. She's a liability and I don't know the first thing about managing children. Why do you think I'm vanquishing Nightmares in your name instead of finding a mate and raising a family?"
A pause. A shift in the grass beneath her feet. A flicker of light in the blue eye.
"I disagree regarding the notion that the Zorua is a liability. Despite her weak physical body, she has quite the mental fortitude. Hazel agrees. I tested this as well by having Hazel take her into a Dream of his making and can verify that she will not be a hindrance to you."
She heard footsteps running around her. Something she couldn't see, even when she peered through her psychic sight. She heard the laugh of a young, energetic girl, followed by Hazel's cackles.
"She only has three months. Would you not allow her this last wish in her final days?"
"I'm not sure what sort of child wants to be a Dream Eater. The idea is simply preposterous."
"This one does."
"Can she even enter Dreams on her own?"
"She can. She needs to observe you entering the dream, but if she witnesses it with her own eyes, she can copy it. Hazel tells me that one of her grandparents was an Espeon who had this power, and it's been passed down through the generations ever since."
Clarity had heard of this power, something called Copycat by some of the more simple-minded Pokemon she had known. She supposed that if this Zorua did have that power, then it would be no issue for her to dive into Dreams right behind Clarity or anyone else on the team. It only meant that the Zorua couldn't go into Dreams on her own, which she supposed was a good thing. It meant the Zorua wouldn't do something reckless when Clarity wasn't looking.
She looked begrudgingly at the eye, but thought nothing further. She didn't want to take in this Zorua, not one bit, but she didn't want to disappoint Pontifex. Maybe Griffith had always been there for her and always would be until they met their inevitable ends, but Pontifex had given her purpose. Meaning. Power. She could confidently say she was stronger, smarter, and superior to every other Meowstic on the planet because of Pontifex's blessing.
How could she possibly refuse Pontifex? He was a being far stronger, more divine than she ever could be. It went against Clarity's very nature to disappoint him.
"Fine. However, she's not living with me. I don't have room for her."
"Of course. She'll most likely continue to live with her parents, as I presume children still do in this era, and simply meet with you whenever you have Dreams to visit."
A hazy line of orange light slowly trickled over the horizon just behind the eye. Clarity squinted as the light rose higher and higher. Red and purple bled into the sky, chasing away the darkness.
"Thank you for your cooperation. You'll make the Zorua very happy."
"Is there anything else you need from me?"
"No. Hazel will contact you if there is anything else needed."
"Very well. Thank you, Pontifex."
She thought she saw him give something vaguely resembling a nod, and then found herself leaning against her tree once more. The sky was dark and filled with vague, distant constellations. She was alone.
She rubbed her ears as she stood up, this time the needles clinging to her fur, and headed home. She had a long three months ahead of her.