o
As an ember fades
Color is the first to vanish
Then distinction, then identity
Then, finally, shape itself
The perfect distillation
Form outlives function
The question becomes the conclusion
The hint becomes the answer
The reminder becomes the thought
The promise becomes the action
The book becomes the cover
Until one day you notice the pages are empty
The world becomes but things,
And things, and things
And things, and more things
Surprising things, heartfelt things…
Precious things, thought-provoking things…
(Though which thoughts, I cannot tell…)
Vibrant things, important things…
Then at last, only just things…
Then finally I remain
To pretend such things
Was I always pretending?
But I am certain, so certain
It always felt real…
I have seen it happen before
So many times, so many worlds
Yet I refused to believe it would happen here
Though I knew better, I still refused…
And now my grip wanes
Upon reality
Walls closing in
Upon every turn
Every surface is hard
Every edge, a corner
Every idea, a suggestion
A vapor of an impression
What once was alive and wild
Growing without restraint or limit
Has become petrified, encrusted
Randomized
I am forgetting.
My friend… I am forgetting.
How much have I already forgotten?
…
I am sorry, my friend.
I have not the strength left.
I have tried for eternity, but
Even I have only so much heart
Perhaps this was always
how things would be.
Perhaps the end was long ago
And we only refused to see.
I can no longer save you
Wherever you are.
But your glowing ember is the proof
That where you stood,
There were once beautiful things
Meaningful things
Things I once cherished
Things I once loved
Things I took as important as myself
They were real
Because we wanted them to be real
And now, your ember…
The last thing remaining
I have left to treasure…
I remember you, Amadeus
As always I will
I feel you still
The last to fade
Vivid and bright
In a world of nothing
Yet what surrounds you
has become but ash
Yours still burns, my beloved friend.
But mine is dead
Perhaps long since
I cannot tell
What meaning has time?
Or shape, or place?
When all converges
Becomes all-nothing
Souls become ghost
Hearts become stone
Shores contract inward
And mazes become home
Every step a mistake
Every direction wrong
All will fade
Until you wander alone
A tragedy I have not
the heart left to mourn
…
It already ended long ago
But you remained
You kept it going
You wanted this change
But my friend…
What is there left to change?
You've already changed so much
I cannot remember how things were
Were we once meant to live forever?
And your soul…
Was it once silver?
…
Through the season of winter, the effort had continued to fortify, rebuild, and repurpose the underground metropolis of Basin Canyon. With the Starborn defeated, the dust of the battle having settled, and the influence and control of the Master seemingly dispelled, the Sandslash were free to sculpt the caverns according to their artistic vision, building themselves a perfect, sprawling underground home while trading their valuable feral-shards with the rest of Ambera to sustain a strong local economy.
The most immediate efforts, of course, had been put into the evolution shrine near the front of the complex – the tourist attraction which invited Pokémon to make pilgrimage for the sake of celebrating their evolution with an extended ceremony, making it more of a spiritual affair. Already, not even half a year after the battle, the shrine was considered a finished work of art, and all Pokémon who made the pilgrimage agreed it was worth the journey, especially for the experience of a real-life mythical Pokémon handing them their feral-shard. The whole event made Pokémon feel like their change was the perfect end to one chapter of their lives, and the beginning of another.
A tiny pink Pokémon drifted between the sandy golden pillars of the shrine, its large eyes drawn by the sparkles of diamond and sandstone. It felt humbled by the height and grandeur of the chamber. The long isles, the crystal-tiled floors, the blazing fires across the walls all caught his attention as he floated past. The chamber seemed particularly eerie when not in use, not unlike the larger chambers of the Gold Division base such as the meeting hall – even in the solitude, it felt as though it were guarded, or perhaps haunted, by the presence of something vast and large, something which superseded oneself.
The little Pokémon drifted slowly, careful not to lose his sense of spatial awareness, lest he take a wrong turn and find himself lost in an unending series of tunnels which, at times, almost reminded him of a mystery dungeon.
"Excuse me!" he called out, noticing a single Sandslash walking along the wall of the chamber, seemingly occupied with collecting bits of gravel that littered the room. He drifted closer. "Hey! Excuse me, there!"
The Sandslash had to blink, not knowing what to make of what he saw. "Why! Either you are some talented illusionist, or you are the trainer that we've heard so much about from Shander," he said. "What brings you to our home, little Mew?"
"Oh! Um, not much!" Domo replied cheerfully. "I suppose I just… um… I wanted to see how the rebuilding effort was going. This place looks gorgeous! Where did all these crystals come from? Did you dig them up from the desert?"
"We've built our caverns only out of materials we've dug ourselves from the ground, or collected from the canyon itself," said the Sandslash proudly. "It is our way of respecting the earth beneath our feet, that we reshape the terrain, rather than to destroy it, or merely to replace it."
"That's wonderful!" said Domo, gaping at the orange-and-red tinted chandeliers hanging above the ceremonial stage. "Gives me a whole new appreciation for your architecture. So! To be honest, I actually came here because I was wondering… what's your schedule? When are you going to hold your next ceremony? Anytime soon, perhaps?"
"To be determined," replied the Sandslash. "Once we get enough applicants. Why so? How come you are concerned with evolution? There isn't a Mew evolution that we aren't aware about, is there?"
The Mew hung bashfully in the air for a moment. "Oh, uhhh, welllllll, you see, I just wanted to, um… see a ceremony in person, you know? I heard so much about them, especially from all the Division members who have gone to one… Yeah. It sounds absolutely magical. You could say… It would really be a wish come true!"
Domo awkwardly giggled as the Sandslash examined him for a moment, before returning a warm smile. "Perhaps you could convince some of your close friends to participate," he suggested. "It would help us fill our roster, and we could schedule a new ceremony."
"Hey, that's a great idea!" Domo cheered. "I know a few Pokémon still in need of an evolution. That would give me more of a personal excuse to – I mean, something to look forward to! Yeah! Hehe!"
Domo floated along the wall, pretending to look mesmerized by the patterns of gemstones and glyphs embedded in the sandy surfaces, while he waited patiently for the Sandslash to finish his patrol and leave the room.
Once he was alone again, Domo zipped quickly to the front of the room, where there stood the portal that would, apparently, connect the mortal realm to the alien world of the Spacial Rift during the evolution ceremonies. He pressed his front paws against the cool surface, as though listening for traces of the magic spells present in its design.
"Aww… so close, yet so far," he whispered to himself. "Figures they wouldn't be holding these ceremonies daily. It is a pretty long flight here… Guess I'll just have to catch one of the ceremonies for myself."
He spent a moment pressing his face and his paws into the stone, silently hoping he could push his way into the Spacial Rift merely by the sheer force of wanting it. But while he was zoned out, a voice hissed his name from nearby.
"Hey! Domo! What do you think you're doing all the way out here?!" rasped a quiet voice from beside the evolution stage.
Domo jumped back, nearly forgetting how to float for a moment. Scanning the shrine for the source of the voice, he noticed a Scyther peeking around the corner of the adjacent hallway, the one leading to the rooms where the ceremony participants would stay the night while they awaited the ceremony. The Scyther motioned for him to approach, acting in an oddly secretive manner.
"Do you know how hard it was to find you?" hissed the Scyther. "You were supposed to be at the Gold Division. How was I supposed to know you ran all the way out here? Wasted five extra days trying to find you. Good grief."
"Uh… sorry," sighed the Mew, drifting around the corner to speak with the Scyther in secret. "So, um… who are you, exactly?"
"Name's Adarc," said the Scyther. "Scythe put me in charge of the Basin Canyon effort a while back, though I'm not at liberty to tell you about all the details. Listen… I actually have a message for you, from Scythe himself."
Domo looked thrilled, bobbing and bouncing in the air at the mention. "Oh! Is he okay? Everyone's been so… I mean… Well… those who know he's missing, they've been so worried about him! Where is he? What's he doing? We all… I mean, I'm worried sick about him! Can't he come back already?"
Adarc's eyes shifted, as though sensing for eavesdroppers. "Scythe is just fine, though obviously he doesn't want to be found," reported the Scyther. "But see… he's got a job that he thinks only you can pull off. So he's going to need your help."
"Oh! What? Me?" Domo cried. "But I'm still pretending to be Scythe! It's sooo hard, though! I have to pretend to be so smart and always know what I'm talking about… I don't know if I can put any more work on my plate! And already some Pokémon have figured out that I'm not actually Scythe and they have to keep it a secret…"
"Don't worry about that," said Adarc, slashing his scythe in front of the yammering cat's face. "That's about to not matter anymore. Now listen closely. Are you listening? Because I'm only going to say this once. After this, you're going to have to pretend we never had this conversation, and I'm certainly not going to try contacting you again. It was hard enough the first time."
"Yeah! I'm listening! I think," said Domo. "Lay it on!"
Adarc pulled the conversation further down the hall and ducked into one of the empty visitor rooms. He checked outside the door one last time to make sure nobody was following or spying.
"Alright," said Adarc, lowering his voice. "You know Team Ember, don't you?"
"Well… yeah, pretty closely actually," said Domo. "Especially as of late, I've had to, um… work with them quite a lot, for uh, reasons. Why? What's this have to do with Team Ember?"
"Team Ember is about to embark on a trip," Adarc said. "Char and a few of his close friends are about to take a trip south to the Black Division. Scythe needs you to go along with them. Understand?"
"Wait, wh- uh, how does Scythe know that?" Domo wondered.
"Quiet, you," hissed Adarc, swiping his blade again. "Don't ask questions. Just listen. Scythe needs you to tag along with Team Ember. But he needs you to make sure that Team Ember doesn't know you're tagging along with them. See the picture? You've gotta pretend to be one of them."
Domo's poor eyes went so wide. He sagged in the air until he came to rest on the ground. "Buh! Wha! How am I supposed to do that?!" he sputtered.
"Look, Scythe didn't tell me why or how," muttered Adarc. "He only told me the what. He needs you to be there, with Char, but disguise yourself as a Pokémon so that Char doesn't know it's you. Scythe was very particular about it. That's the only way his plan is going to work. And he's going to have to trust you with the details. But he needs you to be there when he puts his master plan into motion, and this is the only time you can secretly relocate."
"That doesn't make any sense…!" Domo gasped. "I'm… look, I can transform, see! I could turn into a bird and fly wherever I want, and nobody would know! Perfect stealth! Why specifically do I need to be with Team Ember? Why do I need to turn into one of them?"
"Can't say," said Adarc, shaking his head. "Scythe didn't give me all the details. Pretty sure that's on purpose."
"But… but, but…" stammered the poor Mew, already feeling very defeated. "Why can't we just… I dunno, tell Char about the plan?" he tried. "That would make this so much easier! We could let them in on the plan, and, with Char's cooperation we could make it even more secret that I'm traveling with him! Huh? What's wrong with that?"
But the Scyther just shook his head in disapproval. "Sorry. He was very particular about this. Char can't know. If he knew, he would be too suspicious. We've had things like this happen before, you know. When Pokémon have to hide something for so long, it does things to them. His body language would be all wrong. Also could get his mind read. This needs to be absolutely, indistinguishably secret. Can I tell Scythe that he can trust you?"
Domo only stared ahead, possibilities already flashing before his mind. None of them were pleasant, and all of them seemed to lead towards dead ends.
He frowned. This was not going to be a fun assignment. He'd have to target a single member of Team Ember, figure out whether they were going on the expedition, then secretly convince them to stay back…
"This had better be really, really important," grumbled the Mew. "I'm not sure if I'm up to it."
"It's very important," Adarc assured. "Scythe is about to neutralize Adiel on a permanent basis. They're having a final confrontation. If he comes out on top… Not only will Adiel not be a problem anymore, but he'll have dealt a brutal blow to Enigma's operations. It's a big deal. And just think… you could be the one to help make it happen."
Domo rubbed his head.
"Y'know… I never wanted to do field work like this, I hope you know," he grumbled. "That was the deal I struck with the Gold Division way back in the day. I didn't want everyone constantly using me for my transforming powers like I'm some kind of secret weapon. The deal was, I get to use the Gold Division as a base of operations to hunt for rare Pokémon, and in return, I could help train the resistance teams in personal combat. I knowwww that Scythe has had ways of forcing my hand in the past, had me pretending to be other Pokémon that I'm not, but I hate it. I hate it, I hate it! I've already been pretending to be Scythe for long enough. When can I go back to just being myself, huh?"
Strangely, Adarc's eye glimmered with sympathy for a moment. "Look… I get it," he said. "I know how you feel. You might not believe me that I know, but I do know. See, my brothers and I have this thing where we're not supposed to ever evolve, but some of us do anyway, because we feel that we're not good enough in our basic forms. It's like… the world forcing us to grow up when we never wanted to. And some of us, we try real hard to resist that change and keep our silver blades, but it ends up happening anyway, despite our best efforts to stay the same."
Adarc put the tips of his blades down to the rug on the floor, and looked down sadly at them.
"You can't just galivant around being yourself forever," he said with a hint of disdain. "You spend forever trying to be yourself, you're just being a coward, delaying the inevitable. Turns out your whole duty in this world… is to adapt. Take some hits, and prove that you're gonna be left standing when others would fall. In other words, it's not who you are that matters, it's what's left of you once the world chews you up and spits you back out. Because until that happens, you have no idea who you even are. Turns out, when you're afraid of losing yourself, it only means you've never met yourself. Otherwise, you'd know there's much bigger things in this world worth being afraid of. And things worth wanting for, things worth sacrificing for."
Domo only stared at his reflection in Adarc's blades. His huge, child-like eyes stared back at him.
"What do you think you're collecting all those transformations for, huh?" Adarc further said. "Don't you think it's a waste of Mew's special gift? Mew went through all the trouble to find you and give you unlimited transformations, and you're not going to use that wonderful power to change the world? Do you really want to be remembered as the Mew who collected all the transformations in the world, who could turn into twenty different legendary Pokémon, then only used them like a toy to play around with in fake battles with children? You really don't think there aren't greater things in this world you can accomplish?"
The little Mew took a deep breath, and noticed the tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes in his reflections.
"See, that's the thing about your deepest, darkest fears," said the Scyther, lifting his blades up from the ground. "Sometimes they come true. That's why you have them in the first place, so you can start planning for them. But once they come true, they're also gonna end. You get through 'em one way or another. And the Mew who's gonna come out the other end of that mess… the one who's not afraid of losing themselves anymore… That's going to be a Mew worth meeting in person, don't you think? I'd love to meet them. So would Scythe. So should you."
Domo shook away his tears. "Okay, fine, I'll do it," he decided meekly. "Alright. You can tell him that I'll do my best. I'll… find a way to come with Team Ember without them knowing. So you can tell him that. But just one thing. Um… when he's, y'know, done with this… do you think he's coming back? Is he, y'know, going to move back to the Gold Division and… well, I mean, I'm trying to ask… is there any hope that things can go back to being the way they were before? It just… doesn't feel the same without Scythe there. I hope he knows that."
Adarc chuckled sadly.
"Nothing ever goes back to the way it was," he answered. "Not really. Nothing wrong with it, though. Sometimes it's even better. Thank you, by the way. I'm sure he'll be very pleased to hear about your cooperation. Good luck… and farewell."
The Scyther disappeared around the corner in the blink of an eye, leaving the Mew to sit and stew in the gravity of the task set before him.
