Chapter 11: Temporal

While Dialga could not see a clear future, he could still look into the past. He could easily look back and bear witness to the history behind Hearthome City. The city had surprised him. When was this city set up? He could still remember when this area overlooked the Crimson Mirelands.

So he did. As he walked through the city for the very first time, Dialga watched everything he could.

Not a single moment escaped him. He could see everything - starting with the gossip brought about by Fantina's induction as a Gym Leader, five years ago-

("What was the League thinking, allowing someone like that to fill the position? Do they think it's Halloween?"

"Right? I much preferred the previous Gym Leader; his type specialization is a much better reflection of Hearthome. Not...ghosts."

"She's a Contest star too, remember? I'll bet that had a hand in the League's decision."

"Still...I don't like that she specializes in ghosts. If it were any other city, I'd be fine with it."

"Yeah, the kids aren't going to like that...")

To the construction of the Foreign Building, a century and a half ago-

("It's so elaborate, and for what? Do outsiders really need these ornate windows to commune with nature and the gods? It just seems counter-intuitive to me."

"I dunno. I can't say I fully understand it either. Maybe it's to help outsiders feel less homesick?"

"I suppose. But what about all these candles? "

"Please, you'll make my head hurt more than it already is.")

To the...aftermath of Rei's...

("Dialga, surely you knew. Rei used the Red Chain, his death was inevitable. There was nothing more you could have done."

"But for the curse to affect him even after everything he'd done to save Hisui?! Was there truly-?"

"The Red Plague does not discriminate. If there was a way to remove it, I'd have done it long ago. Rei had already accepted it as his fate."

"But...why did it have to happen so soon?"

"Oh, my child. Come here...I am sorry. I had hoped to spare you the grief, but-")

Dialga was brought back to the present by a stranger bumping into him. He was glad for it. Ruminating on that part of the past hurt more than he thought it would.

He hadn't realized that he was so close to Solaceon Ruins, and it caught him completely off-guard. The memory filled him with dread; he had not been in the Ruins since that day, and he didn't even want to think that he may have to return.

That was not to say that he wouldn't, if it was to find out how to protect this timeline. The possibility of reliving his worst memory was a daunting thought, but what was a little bit of grief when a whole timeline was at stake?

(...He did find himself wishing that he would not have to do it alone.)

The Trainers had decided to split up shortly after their arrival to Hearthome. Barry had wanted to get his Gym Challenge over with, so he immediately took off in the direction of Hearthome's Gym. Dawn had helped a contest star recover her Buneary, so she was whisked away to the Contest Hall.

As for where that left Lucas? He didn't mind wandering the city for an hour or so. It gave him time to get to know the newest member of his party; it didn't take Alger long at all to evolve into a Kirlia, so he probably needed a chance to get used to his new form anyway.

Alger was the one who noticed the crowd first. He got Lucas' attention straightaway. Curious, the Trainer walked over to get a better look at the scenario. In the middle of the crowd were two Psychic trainers. The two were picking up tarot cards that had been scattered across the ground. Standing above them was an older man - it was hard to say if he was a Trainer at all, with the fancy suit he was wearing.

"These two are frauds," the man crowed, an almost smug smile on his face. "They couldn't tell me what I had for breakfast this morning, let alone what my future will bring!"

"I told you before, our powers don't work like that!" one of the Psychics shouted. "We can only divine what your future can hold!"

"What it can hold, not what it will hold," the man responded. "So long as I'm under Arceus' protection-"

Lucas stopped listening after that. Now, he never considered himself a religious person; not after the move to Johto. He never mentioned it to his father, but he remembered those few months after their initial move to Johto. While Lucas was too young to understand exactly what was going on at the time, he always assumed it was just grief that kept his father awake at night. But then...if it were that simple, wouldn't he have heard from anyone from his father's side of the family since his move to Johto?

So, hearing the man mention Arceus' name like that (just like his grandparents used to) made Lucas' blood boil.

So many nights he couldn't do anything to comfort his dad when he needed it, so many times he asked Arceus why his mom had to die-!

"You had Kalosian toast, a sausage patty and scrambled eggs."

Lucas was quickly brought back to reality. All heads turned towards the newcomer, and the Trainer was surprised to see that it was Aevus that spoke up. The most surprising part of the situation was that Aevus had none of the awkwardness he had in the past. He seemed calm at a first glance, but Lucas could feel a twist of anger coming from his Aura.

Aevus either didn't notice that Lucas was in the crowd, or he didn't care. His visible eye was closed as he addressed the man; "You also had Pecha Berry juice and coffee with two...no, not two. Three cubes of sugar."

The man gaped at him, and stammered, "Well. I see you had the Center's breakfast spread too..."

That caught Lucas' attention, and he had to speak up; "But the Center didn't serve Kalosian toast this morning."

The two glanced over at the newcomer. Aevus was clearly surprised to see him, while the other man was bewildered...and Lucas could also detect dread and a looming sense of desperation. Despite that, Lucas addressed the crowd, "They served chocolate chip waffles and a fruit cup."

"And if that is not enough proof that you did not have your breakfast at the Center," Aevus continued, without missing a beat. "The room you were in was...I believe the term is minimalist? So tell us; where did you have your breakfast?"

"I don't have to explain anything," the man seethed, pointing a finger at Aevus. "If you can't tell me where it was, then you're a fraud just like those two!"

Aevus' visible eye narrowed, before it closed again. "Wherever you were, it took you seventeen minutes to get from there to here. And you happened to leave your hat at that location. Between the time it takes to get from there to here, don't be surprised if she comes around to return it to you in the next half-hour."

Lucas had no idea who 'she' could be, but the man clearly knew. The dread that had been present within his Aura had turned into a sharp realization.

"You stay the hell away from me," the man demanded, backing away. "I don't know what sick game you're playing, but it's not funny and you'll get what's coming to you!"

With that, the guy ran off. With a sharp exhale, Aevus turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction.

Lucas watched and - before he could stop himself - ran after Aevus.

As Dialga walked away from the growing crowd, he admitted to himself that this was not his best moment.

Initially, he was going to stay out of the conflict between that man and the two Psychics. There were far more pressing matters on his mind than a petty squabble between humans.

But then the man had the nerve to invoke his Mother's name, and Dialga acted before he could stop himself.

The way Dialga saw it, religion was a strictly human experience; that which was a mystery for humanity was common knowledge for one such as him. While he could certainly appreciate its potential for community and goodwill, he was also aware of its potential for arrogance and misery.

The Diamond Clan was one example of the former - while Dialga was at first surprised to find that there was a clan that worshipped him, he appreciated that they used their devotion as a way of appreciating the time they had in this world. He remembered that Palkia appreciated the Pearl Clan's way of living for similar reasons.

That damned merchant was one of the latter. Dialga's blood still boiled at the mere thought of that one. In fact, it was that memory specifically that spurred him to act this day. As if Dialga didn't have enough that haunted him from that day.

He was aware that only a handful within the Pantheon shared this opinion. While he could not speak for the others, Dialga could hardly call himself worthy of the title 'Temporal Pokemon' if he saw it any other way.

You see, the word temporal is not just defined as 'relating to the concept of time'. It also describes that which is connected to the physical world, where nothing lasts forever. This city that he stood in - and every building within it - could very well return to the mire within a few hundred years. The very nature of time is to provide potential for change, for all things that begin in this world must come to an end. For Dialga to deny that potential would be to defy himself.

His musings were interrupted by a sharp shout; "Hey!"

Dialga was surprised earlier by Lucas' intervention, but he was less surprised to see that he had befriended a Kirlia. Mesprit always held a soft spot for the Ralts line, so her influence on the boy could easily be indicated by the Psychic-type's presence.

The Lord of Time paused, giving Lucas and his Kirlia a chance to catch up with him. He was surprised to see Lucas so agitated; it reminded him of the Valley Windworks (which was strange, because he did not think he saw anyone from Team Galactic). Lucas spoke in a hushed voice, "Where the hell did that come from?!"

"Where did what come from?"

"What do you mean-?!" Lucas inhaled through his nose. After a loud exhale, he raised his arm to gesture behind him. "That!"

The crowd had become much more dense - but Dialga could tell that in the middle of it all was the arrogant man. Not just him, but there were two women screaming obscenities and accusations at him.

"You didn't just read that guy to filth - you aired his dirty laundry for everyone to see!" Lucas explained. From his expression, it was hard to tell if he was angry or bewildered. "How did you do that?!"

For three seconds, Dialga didn't know how to answer. He wanted to be absolutely sure he could trust Lucas with the truth of his identity, so he did not want to reveal himself just yet. But at the same time...

Thankfully, Lucas followed up with a query; "Is that something you can do with Aura?"

"That is one thing," he answered, perhaps a moment too quickly. Now that he thought about it; if Roar of Time got its power from his Aura, would it not stand to reason that he could look into someone's past by reading their Aura? "I've picked up a few tricks here and there over the years."

"How many years did it take you to learn that one?"

"...Too many to count. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno," Lucas admitted, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I guess...I wanted an idea on how long it would take to be as good as you."

Dialga did not know what to say for a moment. It was strange, he thought; that Lucas would treat it like some kind of competition. To his recollection, that wasn't how the Aura Guardians approached the development of their ability. It was different for everyone, so it did not make sense for any two Guardians to go about it the exact same way.

Then he remembered; knowledge on the subject had become scarce in recent centuries. Of course Lucas wouldn't know that.

"Well...once you get a handle on your Aura sensitivity, it's not wise to look at it as something you become 'better' or 'worse' at," he finally said. "It is an ability that grows with the user. In other words, it's different for each being."

Lucas' expression gave away his surprise, and his curiosity. Thus, Dialga continued, "Some are able to actively utilize it - that is, shape it into barriers or other things, to directly interact with the world around them. The move Aura Sphere is one example of this. For others, their senses are sharpened to an almost supernatural degree. With enough practice and persistence, these wielders of Aura are able to uncover even the most well-hidden truths."

"Like Detective Scarlet?"

"...If that helps you get a clearer idea of it," Dialga said, even though he did not know what a 'Detective Scarlet' was supposed to be. Was it some kind of mortal realm trend? "My point is...while I can do certain things with Aura that you cannot, the same applies in reverse."

"Really?" It was hard to tell what Lucas may have been thinking. Was he surprised to hear that, or unsettled? "I...wonder what I could be capable of. Although, I can't think of anything I could do that you can't."

"Keep selling yourself short like that, and you may never know."

It was only when he saw Lucas flinch that Dialga realized how harsh that came across. That was definitely a weakness of his…and the best example he could give. "My apologies. I do not have the talent of perceiving the emotions of others."

While Dialga could not perceive the emotions of others through Aura (not as well as other deities, anyway), it would not be too much of a stretch to assume that Lucas could. Mesprit's presence in the boy's life could have very well influenced how his Aura abilities would develop.

From the surprise on Lucas' face, Dialga could only assume that he was right.

"That makes sense," the boy said, more to himself than to anyone. The Kirlia by his side - who seemed much more interested in watching Lucas than the conversation at hand - tugged on his Trainer's pants leg. That seemed to snap Lucas out of his thoughts, and he looked down at the Kirlia with a weak chuckle.

"Sorry, buddy," he said, crouching to meet the Kirlia's eye level. "And thanks. I'm feeling a bit better."

Was that statement aimed at Dialga, or the Kirlia? Either way, it piqued Dialga's curiosity - he had wondered why Lucas stepped in earlier. While it would be a trifle to look into Lucas' past, he found the idea almost abhorrent. It was clear that the arrogant man had agitated him somehow. Perhaps Lucas had been hurt by similar people in the past - those who would use his Mother's name to justify making others miserable?

Something about that thought stung.