A/N: Hey look I actually got another chapter done not a month later. I am glad to see the feedback greatly appreciate it. I hope this chapter sheds more light on the mystery going on in the deserts of Saharos. Hopefully things will finally stabilize and I can get back on my regular writing. If you feel so inclined leaves review or favorite otherwise enjoy chapter 10.
Ash found himself standing in the heart of the aldea, though something was wrong. The usually quiet village was in chaos—buildings crumbled as fire and sand swirled through the air. The sun hung low in the sky, casting an eerie red glow over everything, like blood seeping into the earth. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, and the cries of Solarans echoed around him, their voices desperate and filled with fear.
His heart pounded as he scanned the horizon, trying to understand what was happening. Then, from the swirling sand, a massive figure emerged—Zephyr, riding atop a colossal Pokémon Ash didn't recognize. Its body was a fusion of metal and stone, gleaming with an unnatural shine. It had the shape of a Tyranitar, but something about it was wrong. Its eyes glowed red, and its massive claws tore through the aldea with terrifying precision. The Solarans screamed as they tried to flee, but the creature was relentless, smashing through homes, sending debris flying in every direction.
Zephyr, perched on top of the metal beast, looked down on the destruction with a cold, detached expression. His eyes, hidden behind his signature tinted goggles, scanned the chaos with an eerie calm. "Destroy them all," Zephyr commanded, his voice booming over the din of battle. "Leave no one alive."
Ash's blood ran cold. He couldn't move, couldn't call out. His feet felt rooted to the ground as he watched the mechanical Tyranitar-shaped Pokémon—a creature that seemed to pulse with dark energy—obliterate everything in its path. Solarans fell before it, their cries lost in the roar of destruction.
In the midst of the chaos, Ash's eyes searched frantically for Pikachu. He called out, but no sound escaped his throat. The world around him was muffled, as if he were trapped behind a veil. Then, he saw it—Pikachu, lying still in the sand, its small body lifeless, barely visible beneath the debris.
"No! Pikachu!" Ash screamed internally, but still, no sound left his mouth. His heart raced in his chest, each beat a painful thud as he tried to force himself to move. But his body wouldn't respond. He was paralyzed, forced to witness the horror unfolding before him.
Zephyr's cruel voice rang out again, his tone indifferent as he directed the monstrous Pokémon. "You're weak, Ash Ketchum," Zephyr sneered, his voice chilling as he spurred the creature forward. "This is the price of your failure."
The ground shook as the Iron Thorns—a strange machine, or was it a Pokémon?—advanced on the remaining Solarans. Ash's vision blurred as he watched it unleash an attack, its jagged metallic tail glowing before striking the earth with a thunderous crash. Sand and fire exploded into the air, the force of the blast shaking everything around him.
Finally, Ash's legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground, helpless and shattered. His eyes remained locked on Pikachu's unmoving form, his chest tight with grief. The world around him seemed to dissolve into a blur of red and black, the screams of the Solarans fading into nothingness.
And then, a flash—bright, white light erupted from the heart of the chaos, blinding Ash completely. It swallowed everything, and for a brief moment, there was silence.
Ash woke with a start, his body jerking upright as his scream tore through the stillness of the night. "Pikachu!"
Sweat drenched his skin, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He was back at the *Circle of the Ancients, the cool desert night a stark contrast to the heat and violence of his dream. He glanced around wildly, disoriented, his heart still racing. Brock and Misty stirred beside him, groggily waking up from the sound of his voice.
"Ash, what—" Misty mumbled, rubbing her eyes as she sat up, her expression shifting from sleepy to concerned as she saw the panic in his eyes. "Are you okay?"
Brock was already fully awake, his gaze sharp as he looked over at Ash. "Ash, you were screaming… what happened?"
Ash panted, his hands trembling as he wiped the sweat from his face. His gaze darted to Pikachu, who was sleeping peacefully beside him, its chest rising and falling gently with each breath. Relief washed over him, but the images from his dream still burned in his mind. The lifeless form of Pikachu... the destruction of the aldea... Zephyr and that terrible machine...
"I—I don't know," Ash stammered, his voice shaky. "It felt so real… Zephyr… he was riding this... thing. It looked like a Tyranitar, but it wasn't. It was some kind of machine, and it was destroying everything... and Pikachu—" His voice cracked as he looked down at his partner, his heart still hammering in his chest.
Misty exchanged a worried glance with Brock, her hand gently resting on Ash's shoulder. "It was just a nightmare, Ash. You're okay, and Pikachu's okay."
Ash nodded, though the dread from the dream still gripped him tightly. "But… what if it wasn't just a nightmare?" he whispered, almost to himself. "It felt… like something real. Something coming."
Brock leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concern. "Do you think it's connected to everything we've been through here in the desert? The prophecy? The Tsika Army?"
Ash didn't have an answer, but the pit in his stomach told him that something dark was looming over them. The image of Zephyr riding that monstrous, mechanical Pokémon—an Iron Thorns—still haunted him, and for the first time in a long while, Ash felt truly afraid of what might lie ahead.
He settled back down onto his blanket, his body still tense, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just a dream. And whatever it was, it was coming for them.
Ash wandered through the *Circle of the Ancients, his mind still reeling from the dream that had woken him so violently in the middle of the night. Pikachu perched on his shoulder, as always, offering silent comfort, but even Pikachu's steady presence couldn't calm the storm of thoughts swirling in his head.
The image of Zephyr atop that monstrous Tyranitar-like creature—its eyes glowing red, its body more machine than Pokémon—still haunted him. It had felt too real, too vivid to dismiss as just a dream. *What was that thing?* Ash wondered, his hand absentmindedly brushing Pikachu's head. *Was it some kind of machine Zephyr created? Or something worse?*
He couldn't shake the memory of Pikachu lying lifeless in the sand, the destruction of the aldea, and Zephyr's cold, commanding voice as he ordered the attack. Ash clenched his fists, trying to push the images from his mind, but they clung to him like the desert sand, refusing to be forgotten.
Misty, walking a few steps behind, kept her eyes on Ash. She could tell something was wrong—his silence, the way his shoulders were hunched as if he was carrying some invisible weight. She had seen that look on him before, back when they were younger, and she knew Ash well enough to recognize when something was bothering him, even if he didn't say it.
Just as she was about to ask him what was going on, Soraya approached her from the side, her vivid blue eyes scanning Misty's face before flicking toward Ash. "Is everything okay with him?" Soraya asked, her voice low but laced with concern.
Misty shook her head slightly, glancing at Ash again. "I don't know. He woke up in the middle of the night, yelling about Pikachu. He's been quiet ever since."
Soraya frowned, watching Ash as he walked ahead. "Has he had nightmares like this before?"
Misty bit her lip, her mind flashing back to when she and Ash had first started traveling together again. "Honestly... I'm not sure. He's never really talked about it. But I do remember a few times, even back when we were younger, when he'd wake up in the middle of the night looking… scared. But he always brushed it off, like it was nothing."
Soraya nodded, crossing her arms as she thought. "He had a few restless nights when he was staying with my brothers and me. He never mentioned anything about nightmares, though. Just kept everything to himself, like always."
Misty sighed, her worry deepening. "That sounds like Ash. He bottles things up and doesn't talk about what's bothering him until it's practically eating him alive."
Soraya's gaze softened as she studied Misty's expression. "You care about him a lot, don't you?" she asked quietly.
Misty blinked, caught off guard by the question. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked away, pretending to focus on Pikachu for a moment. "Yeah, I do," she admitted, her voice soft. "But it's not just that. We've been through so much together. I just… I want to make sure he's okay."
Soraya nodded in understanding, her own concern for Ash clear in her eyes. "I get that. My brothers and I have only known him for a short time, but it's hard not to feel protective of him. He's stubborn, but he's good. Still... whatever this is, it's something he's not talking about. And I don't like that."
Misty's gaze met Soraya's again, her blue-green eyes filled with a similar worry. "Maybe we should talk to Kaida. She might know more about what's going on, especially if these nightmares are related to the prophecy."
Soraya hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "That's probably the best idea. Kaida has a way of seeing things we don't."
They both looked back toward Ash, who had stopped near one of the ancient stone pillars that marked the Circle. He seemed lost in thought, staring at the weathered carvings, his face tense. Misty knew that look well—it was the look he got when something weighed heavily on him but he didn't know how to put it into words.
Pikachu, sensing the unease in its trainer, nuzzled Ash's cheek softly. Ash smiled at Pikachu, but it was a fleeting expression, quickly replaced by the same troubled look.
Misty turned back to Soraya. "We'll talk to Kaida after this. If anyone can figure out what's going on, it's her."
"Agreed," Soraya replied, her voice firm. "Whatever's bothering him, we can't let it go unchecked. If the dream is tied to the prophecy—or worse, if it's a warning—then we need to know."
They stood in silence for a moment, watching Ash as he absentmindedly stroked Pikachu's fur. Misty's heart ached for him. She knew he was carrying more than just the burden of their current mission, but whatever it was, Ash wasn't ready to share it—not yet.
Misty turned to Soraya, her resolve strengthening. "We'll figure this out," she said firmly. "We have to."
Soraya nodded, a determined look crossing her face. "For all of us," she agreed, her voice steady.
As the two women exchanged a final glance, the weight of the decision settled between them. Ash was more than just a friend—he was someone they both cared for deeply, and whether or not he realized it, he needed them now more than ever.
With that silent understanding, they both turned back toward the Circle of the Ancients, the next steps of their journey becoming clearer with each passing moment. They would seek out Kaida and find the answers Ash needed—even if he didn't realize it yet.
Misty and Soraya made their way through the *Circle of the Ancients, the ancient stone formations towering over them as they walked. The desert air was cool in the early morning, but there was a weight to it, a sense that something monumental was about to unfold. Both women moved with purpose, the worry they carried for Ash urging them forward.
As they approached Kaida's tent, the fabric gently swayed in the wind, adorned with symbols and patterns passed down through generations of Solarans. Inside, they found Kaida seated at a low table, surrounded by old scripts and scrolls, her slender fingers tracing the lines of ancient Solaran text. Her sharp, angular features were softened by the light filtering through the tent, and her amber eyes—so striking against her weathered skin—seemed to glow with an otherworldly wisdom.
When Kaida looked up and saw Misty and Soraya standing there, her expression shifted ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her usually unreadable face. She set down the scroll she had been studying and leaned back, her gaze now fully on the two young women.
"I wasn't expecting visitors," Kaida said, her voice soft but with a note of curiosity. She motioned for them to sit, her amber eyes watching them closely as if already piecing together their reason for coming. "What brings you here, at this time?"
Misty exchanged a brief look with Soraya before stepping forward. "It's about Ash," Misty began, her concern evident in her tone. "We're worried about him."
Kaida's eyes, as amber as the desert sands at dusk, remained steady and unreadable. She gestured again for them to sit, and both women lowered themselves onto the cushions spread out around the small table. The air inside the tent felt heavier than the cool desert breeze outside, filled with the gravity of their conversation.
"It's not just that he's quiet," Soraya added, her voice low. "He's been having nightmares. We don't know if it's the desert, the prophecy, or something else, but… they're getting worse. He won't talk about them."
Kaida listened intently, her face betraying no emotion as her gaze moved between them. The silence stretched for a moment before she finally spoke.
"And why do you believe these dreams are something more than just nightmares?" Kaida's voice was calm, her words deliberate.
Misty hesitated. "Last night, he woke up terrified," she explained, recalling how Ash had screamed for Pikachu. "He looked like he'd seen something horrible. It wasn't like a normal nightmare."
Soraya nodded. "He's had restless nights before when he stayed with me and my brothers, but he never talked about it. He kept everything inside. This feels different."
Kaida's amber eyes narrowed slightly, her fingers steepled beneath her chin as she absorbed what they were saying. There was a long pause as she studied them both, her expression giving away nothing. Misty couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy under Kaida's intense scrutiny.
Finally, Kaida spoke again, her voice carrying the weight of her years of wisdom. "The desert… it has a way of pulling the truth from those who wander its sands. Sometimes, it reveals what we need to see. Sometimes, it shows us things we are not ready to face."
Her words were carefully chosen, and though she did not explicitly say it, there was an implication that Ash's dreams could be something more than just figments of his imagination.
Misty glanced at Soraya, trying to gauge her reaction, but Soraya's eyes remained fixed on Kaida, her expression one of quiet determination.
Kaida's gaze lingered on Soraya for a moment longer before she spoke again, her voice softer this time. "You've grown to care for this moeng," she said, addressing Soraya directly. "Despite what happened with the last one."
Soraya's body tensed at the mention of the previous moeng, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. Misty, noticing the sudden shift, glanced at Soraya in curiosity but said nothing. The name of this previous outsider had never been mentioned before, but the pain it caused Soraya was palpable.
"I care about helping people," Soraya replied, her voice steady but laced with emotion. "Ash… he's different. He came back to warn us, even when he didn't have to. He's not like the others."
Kaida's amber eyes softened, a rare flicker of warmth crossing her features. "I'm proud of you, Soraya," she said quietly. "After what happened with the last moeng, it is no small thing to trust again. You have a strength that many do not possess."
Soraya didn't reply, but the words seemed to resonate with her, and Misty could sense the unspoken weight that hung between them. There was clearly more to Soraya's past than she had let on, but now wasn't the time to ask.
Kaida's attention shifted to Misty, her amber gaze seeming to pierce right through her. "And you," Kaida said, her tone still calm, but with a knowing edge. "You care for him deeply, don't you?"
Misty felt her cheeks flush, caught off guard by the directness of the question. "Of course, I care about him," she replied, trying to sound casual. "He's been my best friend for years."
Kaida's lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Yes… best friends," she mused, though the look in her eyes suggested she believed there was more to it than that.
The conversation turned back to Ash, and Kaida's expression grew serious once more. "It is possible that Ash's dreams are simply nightmares, the mind's way of grappling with the unknown. But it is also possible," she continued, her voice lowering, "that they are visions. The desert is full of mysteries, and it often reveals its secrets in ways we do not expect."
Misty and Soraya exchanged a glance, both of them unsettled by the thought. They had come seeking answers, but Kaida's response only left them with more questions.
Finally, Kaida stood, her robes flowing like the desert wind as she moved toward the entrance of the tent. She paused, looking back at them with a final word of advice. "Watch over him. Both of you. And remember… the desert reveals truth, but it does not always reveal it kindly."
Misty and Soraya stood as well, their concerns still heavy on their shoulders. As they left the tent, Misty couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Kaida's words than what she had said aloud.
"Who was the last moeng?" Misty wondered silently as they walked. She knew Soraya wouldn't talk about it now, but one day, she hoped to understand.
For now, their focus remained on Ash—and whatever truths the desert had yet to reveal.
Ash stood in front of the towering statue at the *Circle of the Ancients, his gaze distant as he absentmindedly traced the weathered lines of the stone. The colossal figure loomed above him, a serpent coiled in an eternal dance with the sands, its presence ancient and imposing. Pikachu rested quietly on his shoulder, unusually still, as if sensing the unease that weighed down its trainer.
The dream still clung to Ash's mind, vivid and terrifying. Zephyr riding atop a monstrous Tyranitar-like creature, commanding it to lay waste to everything in its path. The destruction, the lifeless bodies, the ruins—it all felt too real, too much like something he could see happening. And then Pikachu, lying lifeless. That image haunted him the most.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Nadia approaching until her soft voice broke the silence.
"You look like the weight of the world's on your shoulders," Nadia said, her tone light but tinged with concern.
Ash turned slightly, seeing her standing beside him, arms crossed, her amber eyes glinting in the dim light. Pikachu shifted a little, acknowledging her presence but still remaining quiet.
"Just a bad dream," Ash muttered, trying to sound casual, though the tightness in his voice betrayed him. "But it's fine. It's just a dream."
Nadia raised an eyebrow, her expression thoughtful as she studied him. She wasn't one to press too hard, but she wasn't easily fooled either. "You don't seem so sure about that," she said, leaning casually against the base of the statue. "I've seen you handle more than most, Ash, but even you can't take on everything."
Ash let out a small sigh, his fingers brushing through his hair. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just letting everything get to me. This whole situation with the Tsika Army, Zephyr, the prophecy… I keep thinking I have to figure it all out. Do something."
Nadia gave him a small, almost teasing smile, but there was warmth behind it. "Ash, you're not the first one to walk these sands and feel like the world is resting on your shoulders. But you've got to stop trying to carry all of it by yourself."
Her words were direct but kind, meant to ease some of the burden he seemed to be piling on himself. She respected the legend, the prophecy about the *Moeng Legend* and the role it might play in their future, but to her, it was just that—a legend. Something passed down through generations, not necessarily something that had to be fulfilled by anyone, least of all Ash.
"I don't think it's that easy," Ash replied, his voice quieter now. "What if this isn't just a story? What if it's something real, something happening now? And I'm in the middle of it?"
Nadia let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "Even if it is real, even if you are somehow connected to all of this, it's not just your burden to bear. You have friends, people who care about you. You're not alone."
Ash shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at Pikachu, who gave him a soft, concerned look in return. He knew Nadia was right, but it didn't make the weight he felt any less heavy. "It's hard not to feel like it's all on me," he admitted. "I've been through a lot, and sometimes it feels like... if I don't do something, no one else will."
Nadia tilted her head, her amber eyes studying him carefully. "I get that," she said, her voice softer now. "But you've got to let people help you, Ash. You're strong, but you're not invincible. And besides, the desert doesn't work like that. It reveals things in its own way, its own time."
Ash gave her a small smile, appreciating her words even if the knot in his chest hadn't fully loosened. "You're right," he said quietly. "I just... I don't know. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because I didn't do enough."
Nadia reached out, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. "Trust in the people around you. Trust in your friends. We're all in this together, whether it's fighting the Tsika Army or figuring out what this prophecy really means. Don't put it all on yourself."
Ash nodded, though the tension in his body remained. He appreciated Nadia's words, the way she spoke with both respect for the legend and a healthy skepticism about it. She believed in the desert and its mysteries, but she didn't let it define her. It was a balance that Ash found himself envying, especially now.
Pikachu nuzzled against Ash's neck, offering its silent support, and Ash felt a small flicker of relief. He wasn't alone. He had Pikachu, Misty, Brock, and even these new allies who had come into his life in the most unexpected way.
Nadia gave him one last encouraging look before stepping away. "Come on, let's head back. There's still a lot more to face, but we'll do it together."
Ash followed her, his mind still swirling with thoughts of the dream, but for the first time in a long while, he didn't feel like he had to bear the entire weight of the world alone. The desert held many secrets, but maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to face them all by himself.
As Ash and Nadia turned to leave the *Circle of the Ancients, a sharp voice cut through the silence.
"So, you really believe this legend matters?" Rashid stepped forward from the shadows of a nearby statue, his dark eyes fixed on Ash with barely concealed disdain. His presence was commanding, his expression hard as stone. The flickering light from the nearby fires cast long shadows over his face, making him appear more severe than usual.
Ash, caught off guard by the sudden confrontation, blinked in confusion. "I never said that," he replied, trying to keep his voice calm. "I'm just trying to help."
"Help?" Rashid scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He crossed his arms, stepping closer. "You think you, a moeng, can come in here and fix things we've lived with for generations? You're delusional."
Ash tensed, feeling a flicker of defensiveness rise in his chest. He hadn't expected such hostility, especially not after everything they had been through together. "I don't think I can fix everything," he said firmly. "But I've seen what the Tsika Army is doing. I can't just stand by and watch."
Rashid's eyes narrowed. "Stand by and watch? That's all moengs like you do. You think you know better, but you don't. And this legend—this so-called prophecy—means nothing to me. It's just a story, nothing more. People who put their faith in it are only setting themselves up for disappointment."
Nadia, sensing the rising tension, stepped in between them, her hands raised in a calming gesture. "Rashid, ease up. Ash isn't claiming he believes in the prophecy. He's just trying to do what he thinks is right."
Rashid shot a sharp look at Nadia, his voice cutting. "You're too quick to defend him. Just like you're all too quick to believe in some mythical stranger saving us. We've survived out here, with or without the help of moengs. And we will continue to survive."
Ash, feeling the heat of the accusation, stepped forward. "I'm not here because I think I'm some chosen one. I'm here because I've seen the destruction the Tsika Army is causing. I've seen people get hurt, and I can't let that happen."
Rashid's face twisted with frustration. "You think you're the first moeng to say that? The first one to come here thinking they could make a difference?" He leaned in, his voice lowering to a dangerous tone. "The last moeng who believed this legend was about him vanished into the desert, convinced he was destined to save us. And all he left behind was destruction. You're no different."
Ash felt a wave of confusion and frustration. He hadn't come here to fulfill some prophecy, but Rashid's words stung. "I'm not like him," Ash said, his voice steady but edged with emotion. "I don't believe in any prophecy. But I can't ignore what I've seen. I won't stand by and do nothing."
Nadia placed a hand on Rashid's arm, trying once again to diffuse the situation. "Rashid, he's not the enemy. He's not here to make things worse."
Rashid pulled his arm away from her touch, his expression hard. "That's exactly what they all say, Nadia. And every time, it leads to more chaos." He turned back to Ash, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something deeper—fear, perhaps. "You don't know this place. You don't know what it takes to survive here. And believing in some legend won't save anyone."
Ash stood his ground, though the weight of Rashid's words hung heavily in the air. "I'm not asking anyone to believe in me. I'm just trying to help however I can."
Rashid let out a sharp breath, his frustration clear. "You think that's enough? That your good intentions will somehow make up for the fact that you're an outsider? The desert doesn't care about your intentions, moeng. And neither do I."
The word *moeng* hit Ash harder than he expected, and he clenched his fists at his sides. "I don't care what you call me," Ash said, his voice firm. "I'm not here to prove anything to you. But I've seen what's happening, and I'm not going to stand by and watch more people get hurt."
Rashid's face twisted into a scowl. "You don't get it. You think you're different, but you're just like every other outsider who thinks they can walk in and fix things they don't understand."
Before Ash could respond, Nadia stepped in more forcefully. "Enough, Rashid. He's not here to take over. He's here because he cares, and whether you believe in the prophecy or not, we all have the same enemy. The Tsika Army is a threat, and Ash isn't the one causing chaos."
Rashid glared at her for a moment before finally stepping back, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface. "We'll see," he muttered, turning on his heel and walking away, his steps heavy with tension.
As Rashid disappeared into the shadows, Nadia sighed, glancing at Ash. "Don't take it personally. Rashid doesn't believe in the prophecy, but he's seen what happens when outsiders get involved. He's just... protective of our people."
Ash let out a long breath, the tension slowly leaving his body. "I get that," he said quietly. "But I'm not here to mess things up. I just want to help."
Nadia gave him a small smile, though it was tinged with concern. "I know. But don't let the weight of this place crush you, Ash. You're not alone, no matter what Rashid thinks."
Ash nodded, though the knot in his chest remained. He wasn't here to fulfill any prophecy, but the weight of the legend—and the expectations, both spoken and unspoken—felt heavier than ever. As he turned to follow Nadia, his mind raced with questions.
Rashid's words echoed in his ears: *The last moeng who believed the legend vanished into the desert...* What had happened to that man? And was Ash destined to follow the same path?
Misty and Soraya caught the tail end of the tense exchange between Rashid, Nadia, and Ash. Soraya felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her, realizing that Ash must have been talking about the *moeng* she had once brought to the aldea. The thought sent a familiar chill through her, and she could sense Misty's curiosity sparking beside her.
Misty, ever observant, gently placed a hand on Soraya's arm. "Hey, what was that about?" she asked softly, her eyes full of concern. "I keep hearing about another moeng… the one Kaida mentioned."
Soraya's gaze flickered with hesitation, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, it seemed like she might shrug it off, but after a beat, she nodded. "Walk with me," she said quietly, turning away from the crowd.
Misty followed as Soraya led her down a winding path, away from the noise and the bustle of the *Circle of the Ancients*. They walked through the towering statues, their shadows stretching long across the desert sands. The quiet here felt sacred, as though the desert itself was holding its breath.
Soraya remained silent for a time, gathering her thoughts as they moved further away from the ceremony. Misty waited patiently, sensing that this was not an easy story for Soraya to share.
Finally, Soraya spoke, her voice carrying a mix of regret and something deeper. "It was a few years ago," she began, her steps slow and deliberate. "I was out in the desert, scouting… like we often do. That day, I found something—something I'll never forget."
Misty stayed quiet, allowing Soraya to continue at her own pace.
"I came across a sight I could barely believe," Soraya continued, her voice tightening. "There was blood everywhere. It looked like a family… had been attacked. Their bodies were scattered, and the sand was stained red." She paused, her vivid blue eyes narrowing at the memory. "From the tracks, I thought it might have been a Tyranitar. Something big, at least."
Misty felt a knot forming in her stomach as Soraya's words painted a gruesome picture.
"I thought they were all dead," Soraya said, her voice softening as she spoke. "But as I was about to move one of the men, I noticed a twitch. Just a small movement. I checked his pulse, and… he was still alive. Barely."
Misty's eyes widened. "What did you do?"
"I couldn't just leave him there," Soraya replied, her voice firm but tinged with emotion. "I carried him back to the aldea. He was badly injured, but I managed to get him to Kaida. She helped nurse him back to health."
Soraya's steps slowed as they reached a quiet spot overlooking the desert, the stars beginning to glimmer faintly overhead.
"At first, he didn't say much," Soraya continued. "He was… angry. You could see it in his eyes. He was furious that he hadn't been able to save his family." She paused, her expression darkening as she stared into the distance. "But then, he learned something. He learned that none of us… none of the Solarans… would harm the Tyranitar that he believed was responsible."
Misty frowned, confused. "But why? Why wouldn't you…?"
"Tyranitars are sacred to us," Soraya said softly, her voice filled with the weight of tradition. "No matter what happens, we don't harm them. They are the guardians of Saharos. He couldn't understand that. It enraged him. He wanted revenge—he wanted blood for what had happened to his family."
Misty could hear the sorrow in Soraya's voice, and she felt a pang of empathy. "So, what happened?"
"He stayed for a while," Soraya continued, her gaze distant. "But the anger… it never left him. He grew distant. Cold. One day, he just left. Disappeared into the desert, and I haven't seen him since."
Misty stayed silent, processing everything Soraya had just said. She could sense that this was deeply personal for Soraya, a wound that hasn't fully healed.
"Did he ever say anything before he left?" Misty asked quietly.
Soraya nodded, her jaw tightening. "He promised that he would return one day, stronger. He said he'd come back for the 'power of the desert.' At the time, I didn't know what he meant, but… now, looking back, I think he believed the prophecy was about him."
Misty felt a shiver run down her spine. She couldn't help but feel the weight of Soraya's story pressing down on her. Whoever this man was, he had clearly left a mark—a dark one—on Soraya and her family.
"Do you know where he went?" Misty asked, her curiosity piqued.
Soraya shook her head. "No. He vanished into the sands, and we never saw him again."
Misty bit her lip, glancing over at Soraya. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I had no idea."
Soraya gave her a small, sad smile. "It's not your fault. Or Ash's, for that matter. But... it's hard to forget."
Misty nodded slowly, understanding now why Rashid had been so hostile. She could see the burden Soraya carried, the scar left behind by this man she had saved.
As they stood there, the wind sweeping gently around them, Misty's mind began to swirl with questions. Who was this man? And why did Soraya's description feel eerily familiar, like someone she had heard about before but couldn't quite place?
But more than that, Misty couldn't shake the feeling that this moeng, whoever he was, might not be as far away as they thought.
And as Soraya's words echoed in her mind, Misty couldn't help but feel that the desert, with all its secrets, wasn't done with them yet.