She stood sentry by the door of the healing-place. Ash-Mother Delia had left mere moments ago. She had blocked entry to Friend-Champion Lance and Mentor-Steven, though she was loathe to do so. Master Claydol's assistance would be invaluable, she felt.
Yet they could not enter. Not while her Master lay defenseless and reeling after his Mastery of the Void Swarm. She shuffled across too-clean tiles and past the sleeping shape of King and Caretaker. King's large purple body lay still save the silent rise and fall of his chest. He had guarded this room for twelve hours before she had laid him to rest. King would need his strength in the coming days.
The others were scattered about the room, save for the Brute. She relished that he was trapped in his binding-sphere. It was not an unpleasant experience for the Brute, but it kept him and his fires away from the innocent. Brute would have been far too difficult to lull into slumber.
Her soft white mane shone in the moonlight which peaked through the windows. She brushed her foci against it, cleansing the jeweled loop of any impurities. Its cleanliness was essential. To allow anything less than pristine condition was to mock her own power.
She watched Master rest underneath the covers. It was something she saw far too little. Even in rest he normally tossed and turned, tormented by whatever fell thoughts raced through his young mind. It was why she normally granted Master the mercy of dreamless sleep. It had been… difficult for her when Brat-Sneasel had stolen that kindness from him.
Large, unwieldy fingers brushed against Master's tanned face, over the scar left by untamed Ice's Blizzard. When she touched it a deep cold bit into her essence, flooding her. She removed her fingers, unwilling to tempt the frozen power running in Master's veins. Were she to look deeper she knew she would encounter great and terrible powers beneath his skin, powers that Master scarcely knew he possessed.
Hot Fire, warm and comforting yet liable to sear flesh and soul when its wrath was awakened.
Focused Lightning, quick and direct and powerful. It was the first to leap to Master's defense when she peered deeply into his sleeping mind.
Frozen Ice. Cold and still and lifeless that lulled her into the trap of inaction and passivity.
The Song which Master was so fond of. This was perhaps her favorite, the only Concept which did not threaten her Master in the least. It comforted her as well to have such a great shroud against the forces to test them in the coming days…
Fury, once foreign but now familiar, ate at her spirit. Pressure flooded the room, a tangible sense of the hatred which filled her, as she sensed the last - and perhaps deepest - of the Brands on her Master. A cold heat, similar to Ice's but altogether different, filled her and for a moment she felt arrogance and satisfaction and all-addictive power before she tempered it away.
The Shade. Mewtwo, as Master called him. She knew his great fear and hatred of the beast and felt it in turn. The powerlessness of the grim sight when the Shade had nearly conquered the Guardian of Life itself, and drew on strange, dark powers to overcome its progenitor. The dread when the Guardian of Life, desperate and reeling, slew her Master while the Shade had sucked his essence into his own.
Her focus trembled. It leapt to and fro as though it were possessed by a force far greater than her own. She relaxed her hold on the great well of power within Master and withdrew. The power was different than normal. Beneath its dark thoughts and satisfaction - and pleasure at watching through the eyes of Master - was a deep tempest of discord.
She took what little satisfaction she could from the Shade's discomfort.
But that mattered little. It was a truth she knew. Instead, she allowed her eyes - dull and faded as they in comparison to her brothers and sisters, especially the Vain - to rest upon the small, unassuming tablet that lay inert upon her Master's bare chest. The stone was simply that at first glance, even when she reached out with her mind, yet hid so much more...
The events of the previous day flooded her thoughts, and even the memories of her brothers and sisters roused at the thought and nearly overcame her well-ordered mind. She shut the deluge of memories away and calmed the foreign minds. They returned to their slumber and she was at peace once more.
She did not brush against the Concepts again. She gave no more thought to the amulet. They were not mysteries for her to comprehend, no matter how tantalizing the knowledge and insight they offered might be. Her bones spoke to her, warned her against such folly. Only Master could delve deep into their secrets with his mind intact, his spirit hardened against such forces by continuous tests of his will.
Her eyes quirked up into the eye-smile her Master enjoyed so much. She allowed her fingers to brush against the black hair on his head. It was coarse, like her own. She marveled at how odd humans were. How had they developed in such a way? They looked so strange with their naked skin.
The senses her mind granted her warned that he would awaken if she kept it up - his heart raced, his skin tingled, and if she continued he would be pulled away from the dreams. She stopped, though regretted it.
Master needed such comforts.
She could not help but recall when she, a young and untested member of her kind, had first found Master where he slumbered beneath a tree in the wilds she had grown up in. He had been so calm then. So relaxed in his sleep with a young King against his legs, the Vain in the trees above his head, and the Torrent resting fitfully as he sunk to the bottom of the lake.
Master had been another meal back then, an easy source of dreams for her to devour. Yet he'd awoken, and she had been driven away and captured by the might of his team. Her eyes quirked into another smile. Oh, she had hated him for a time. It was impossible to imagine now, but for those first few days she knew him, he had been a figure to despise. She had resented him deeply for stealing her freedom, for taking her from the wilds she had known from the day she had hatched.
Yet on the sea-vessel that haunted Master's dreams, she had seen him as so much more. He was young yet courageous, had fought on for not only his survival but his brother and sister's. She respected him, then, and assisted him in his escape.
In the time to come she came to appreciate him. A boy - older than her in years but a mere child in human terms - who loved his brothers and sisters more deeply than he loved himself. A boy tested by tragedy and grim tidings. A boy transformed by the black-and-red garbed trainers he would hunt across the region.
He had come far. It was unimaginable how much had changed. She could only marvel at how strong he had become, by the powers and determination he clung to. Master had done more than most could think of in scarcely a year. He had transformed her life and the lives of them all.
Where would she be now had she not found him? She would not have matured for some time. She would have been a scavenger subsisting on the dreams of what few lone or sleeping creatures she came across in the wilderness. She would have fought constantly to sate her hunger for dreams and rest.
She would not be Dazed.
Her eyes quirked again and she pulled her dull, clumsy fingers farther away from her Master. She hoped he would find solace in his rest. He deserved it after the darkness he had faced.
When he awoke, she would help him find the light. When he awoke, she would be at his side.
And she always would be.
