Chapter 23: Familiar Sights And Faces.
The walk (or, in Ash and Latias's case, steady hover) to Pallet Town was a blur, his mind racing with thoughts of what her reaction would be. Would she understand? Would she be afraid? Would she still love him?
As they reached the edge of Pallet Town, Pikachu leapt onto Professor Oak's shoulder, his tiny paws gripping the fabric of the lab coat tightly, looking back at Ash with a look that held a certain idea. The Professor looked down at him with a knowing smile. "Good idea, Pikachu," he whispered, looking up at Ash and Latias. "It's probably best if you two aren't seen."
With a nod, Ash took Latias's hand, and together, they focused their energy. Their forms rippled, shimmered, and then faded into nothingness. If they had done that while Pikachu was still riding on Ash's shoulder he would have been left suspended in the air, and that probably would draw just as much attention as two Legendary Pokémon just hovering through town. The only evidence of their presence was the soft whisper of displaced air and the occasional rustle of leaves. Professor Oak watched them for a moment, his gaze lingering on the spot where they had been, before turning back to the path ahead.
Pallet Town looked the same as always, a quaint collection of houses and buildings nestled among the trees. The warm sun bathed everything in a gentle glow, and the distant chirping of Pokémon provided a soothing soundtrack to their approach. But as they moved through the streets, unseen by the townsfolk, Ash couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in his own hometown.
The sensation of being invisible was both liberating and eerie. He could see the people he had grown up with, the places that held so many memories, but he knew he couldn't interact with them as he once did. His heart ached for the simplicity of his former life, the days when the biggest challenge was winning a gym badge or capturing a new Pokémon. Now, he was something more, something that the people of Pallet Town could never truly comprehend.
As they approached the Ketchum house, Ash couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. The picket fence looked as sturdy as ever, and the garden was as vibrant as he remembered. It was strange to think that his mother had been living her life, unaware of the monumental changes he had undergone. He wondered if she had noticed his absence, or if she had just assumed he was off on another one of his grand adventures.
Latias, however, found the quaint little town charming. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the small, colorful houses, each one a unique reflection of its owner's personality. The bustling canals of Alto Mare had always been a part of her life, but Pallet Town offered a different kind of beauty—one that was quiet, intimate, and filled with warmth. She had only known the grandeur of her city, where waterways served as roads and the buildings were works of art in themselves. Here, in this simple place, she saw a different kind of artistry—one that came from the heart, not from a blueprint.
"This place is nice," she whispered to Ash, her voice filled with wonder. "So much green."
Ash smiled, his eyes misting over with memories. "It's a good place to grow up," he said, his voice filled with affection for the quiet town that had nurtured him. The scent of blooming flowers and the distant chime of a clock tower bell filled the air, bringing him a sense of comfort that was as familiar as the embrace of his mother's arms.
They hovered before a picket fence that encircled a small white house with a crimson roof. It was a humble abode, but it was where Ash had learned the values of courage, friendship, and love. "Speaking of which..." He trailed off, his gaze lingering on the quaint home.
Latias looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and anxiety. "Is this your mother's house?"
Ash nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "Yes, it is," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is where I grew up."
Latias's grip on his hand grew firmer, and he felt her love and support like a warm blanket. However, some nervousness creeped into her expression. "Do you think she'll like me?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Ash squeezed her hand back, his smile reassuring. "Mom's got a heart of gold," he said. "Once she gets over the shock, she'll love you."
Oak cleared his throat, pulling their attention back to the task at hand. "Let me handle this, you two," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "I'll knock and speak with Delia first."
Ash nodded, his heart racing. He watched as the Professor approached the door of the Ketchum residence, his hand poised to knock. The moment seemed to stretch on forever, the anticipation building like a crescendo in a symphony. And then, the door swung open, revealing a very surprised Mr. Mime standing in the doorway.
The professor cleared his throat, and Mr. Mime looked from him to the empty space where Ash and Latias hovered unseen. "Ah, good to see you, Mimey," Professor Oak began, his voice calm and measured. "Is Delia home?"
The pink humanoid Pokémon looked at Professor Oak, before calling out, "Delia, it's Professor Oak!"
Ash felt a sudden jolt of surprise. Mimey's voice was different—deeper, more masculine than he had ever heard it before. It was as if the barrier between human and Pokémon speech had been lifted, revealing the true timbre beneath the squeaks and gestures he had come to familiarize with him since they first met so long ago. It was a small revelation, but one that, once again, made him realize just how much had changed.
Mrs. Delia Ketchum appeared behind Mimey, her eyes widening with delight at the sight ofProfessor Oak. "Good morning, Samuel," she said, her voice cheerful and welcoming. "Come in, I've just made tea for my guests."
Oak stepped into the house, his eyes scanning the room, "Guests?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued. Delia nodded, gesturing to the living room where two figure were seated, their back to the door.
The air was thick with tension as Ash and Latias hovered just outside the door frame, their invisible forms feeling the heat of the sun on their skin. They watched as Professor Oak moved closer to the figures, his expression a mask of professional calm.
"Ah, I see," Professor Oak said, his eyes widening slightly as he recognized the guests. "Please, don't get up," he added, gesturing to the invisible duo behind him. "Your presence is quite... unexpected."
The two figures in the living room turned in their seats, and Ash's heart skipped a beat. There, in his mother's house, were none other than Misty and Brock—his old travel companions. Their eyes grew wide as they took in the professor's strange behavior, but before they could question it, he spoke again, his voice low and urgent. "Delia, I need you to stay calm."
Delia's eyes searched his face, reading the concern etched there. She nodded slowly, her gaze flicking to the space where Ash and Latias hovered unseen. "Okay," she said, her voice tight. "What's going on?"
Professor Oak took a deep breath and gestured to the space before him. "Please, come in," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.
Delia looked puzzled as she felt a strange sensation, like a gust of wind had blown through the hallway, even though the windows were all shut. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and she rubbed them absently, trying to make sense of what she was experiencing.
"Professor, what's happening?" she asked, her eyes searching the space where the Professor was gesturing.
"Please, Delia, just trust me for now," he urged, his eyes pleading. "Shut the door and sit down."
Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of a joke or misunderstanding, but she found none. Instead, she saw something she had never seen before—fear. It was a stark reminder that the world of Pokémon was so much larger and more complex than she could ever imagine. With a trembling hand, she pushed the door closed and led the professor into the cozy living room where Misty and Brock were seated, their expressions equally puzzled.
"It's been a while, Professor," Brock said, his deep voice filled with genuine warmth. "What brings you here?"
Misty's curiosity shone through her eyes, "Yeah, and why do you seem so... tense?"
The professor took a seat, his eyes darting to the closed door. "I have news that will undoubtedly astonish you," he began, his voice measured. "But first, I must ask, what brings you both from Pewter City and Cerulean City to Pallet Town?"
Misty leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Well, we've just come to visit," she said. "But mostly, we were hoping to hear something about Ash. We haven't had any word from him in ages."
Brock nodded in agreement. "We've all been worried," he said, his gaze lingering on the Professor.
Professor Oak took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "Well, I'm here to tell you that your concerns are not unfounded," he began, his voice tight with tension. "Ash has indeed been on quite the journey."
Misty leaned in, her eyes wide. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and concern.
It was then that she noticed something peculiar. A small, yellow creature was perched on Professor Oak's shoulder, its ears perked up and tail swishing in anticipation. Misty's eyes narrowed, and she leaned closer. "Is that...Pikachu?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Delia's gaze followed Misty's, and she felt a sudden jolt of recognition. "Ash's Pikachu?" she gasped, her hand flying to her chest. The Professor nodded gravely, and the room fell silent as the gravity of the revelation settled over them.
Misty and Brock exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion. "But how?" Brock finally asked, his voice low. "How can Pikachu be here with you, Professor? Where's Ash?"
Delia's eyes never left the yellow Pokémon, her heart racing. "Is it... is it really Ash's Pikachu?" she whispered, her hand shaking slightly as she reached out to touch the electric mouse.
Professor Oak nodded solemnly. "Yes, it is," he confirmed. "And he's here for a reason."
Misty's eyes grew misty with unshed tears as she looked at the Pikachu she had traveled with for so long, the Pokémon who had seen her grow from a novice trainer into the confident Water Pokémon Master she was today. Brock's eyes widened in astonishment, his mind racing with questions and memories. Delia felt a warmth spread through her, the sight of her son's best friend bringing back a flood of happy moments from their past adventures.
"Where's Ash?" Delia whispered, her voice barely audible. "Is he okay?"
Professor Oak took another deep breath, his expression one of solemnity. "That's the complicated matter," he began, his eyes never leaving hers. "Ash is... not quite himself."
Delia's eyes searched his, a flicker of fear igniting within her. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The professor took another deep breath, his gaze shifting to the invisible figures in the room. "Ash has undergone a... transformation," he said, his voice measured. "One that has bound him to a Pokémon in a way none of us have ever seen before."
Misty and Brock exchanged glances, their faces a mirror of each other's bewilderment. Delia's hand tightened around her teacup, her knuckles white with tension. "What kind of transformation?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
Nearby, in the corner of the room, Ash-Latios's heart raced with anticipation and worry. He had hoped to tell his mother in private, but having his oldest friends here added a layer of complexity he hadn't anticipated. He could feel Latias's comforting presence beside him, her psychic energy a gentle caress against his mind. They had come so far together, faced so much, and now, they were about to share the most profound part of their journey with the people who had shaped him into the trainer he was today.
Professor Oak looked at them gravely, then took a deep breath and called out, "Ash, Latias, there's no easy way to say this, so I think it's best if you just show yourselves."
The room grew eerily quiet, the ticking of the clock on the mantel seemingly louder than ever before. Delia's heart raced, her eyes darting around the room as she searched for any sign of her son.
"Samuel," she inquired, her voice filled with a hint of confusion. "Who are you talking to?"
Before anyone could say another word, a shower of sparkling blue light erupted from the center of the living room. Delia's eyes widened, and she shot up from her chair took a step back, dropping her teacup to the floor with a clatter. The room grew brighter, the light dancing and swirling like a tornado of luminescence. Misty and Brock's expressions mirrored Delia's shock as they, too, took in the sudden spectacle.
As the light began to fade, the form of a majestic Pokémon took shape—a Latios, his body a sleek mix of blue and white, with wings that seemed to be made of the very fabric of the sky itself. He hovered gracefully in the air, his eyes a deep, tranquil red that seemed to see into the very soul of anyone who met his gaze. By his side, a slightly smaller form materialized—Latias, her eyes a gentle shade of yellow that held a world of emotion and wisdom. They both hovered there, their keens filling the room with a serene melody that seemed to resonate with every heartbeat.
Delia stood frozen, her hand over her mouth, the shattered pieces of her teacup forgotten at her feet. She had never seen anything so beautiful, so powerful, so... otherworldly. The sight of them took her breath away, and she couldn't find the words to express the tumult of emotions that roiled within her.
Misty and Brock, however, had a sense of déjà vu that was as palpable as the air in the room. They had been there in Alto Mare alongside Ash when he encountered the Eon Duo, and the sight of them now brought back a flood of memories. They watched in awe as the two legendary Pokémon hovered before them, their forms no less graceful than they had been when they first saw them.
"The Eon Duo," Brock murmured, his voice filled with a mix of reverence and wonder. "Latias and Latios."
"But how? They're supposed to be in Alto Mare!" Misty exclaimed breathlessly.
Delia's eyes grew wide as she recognized the names. "Alto Mare?" she echoed, her voice trembling slightly. "Yes, that's where Ash mentioned seeing them!"
Professor Oak nodded, his expression unreadable. "They've come a long way," he said. "And they have quite the story to tell."
Delia's eyes remained locked on the Pokémon, her mind racing. "Where's my son?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The Latios before her shifted, and the air grew thick with anticipation. Ash forced the words out, his voice trembling with the weight of his transformation. "Hi Mom..."
The room was utterly still, as if the very air had frozen in place. Delia's eyes grew wider, and she took another step back, her hand flying to her chest as she stared at the creature that had spoken in her son's voice. "Ash?" she whispered, her voice a mix of hope and fear.
The Latios hovered before her, his eyes filled with a love so profound it seemed to transcend species. "It's me, Mom," Ash-Latios said, his voice a gentle rumble that sounded out of Professor Oak's invention, which he still wore around his head. "It's really me."
Delia's eyes searched the Pokémon's form, looking for some semblance of her son. The creature before her was breathtakingly beautiful, but it was not the little boy who had left her side so long ago. "Ash?" she repeated, her voice shaking with a mix of disbelief and hope.
Misty and Brock watched the scene unfold, their own hearts heavy with the gravity of the situation. They had seen their friend grow and evolve into an incredible trainer, but this... this was beyond anything they could have ever imagined.
Ash-Latios hovered closer, his wings fluttering gently as he tried to convey his humanity through his Pokémon form. "It's okay, Mom," he assured her, his voice a little stronger this time. "I'm still me. I just... I've changed."
Delia's hand trembled as she reached out tentatively, her eyes brimming with tears. As her fingers brushed against the feathery softness of his wing, a jolt of warmth and love surged through her. It was unmistakable—this was her son. "Ash," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Misty and Brock watched the tender moment unfold, their hearts swelling with a mix of joy and sorrow. They had always known Ash to be special, but this was something else entirely. The Professor's invention had allowed them to hear the voice of their friend, clear as day, from the body of a Pokémon. It was a revelation that shook them to their very cores.
"What happened, Professor?" Misty asked, her eyes never leaving Ash-Latios.
Professor Oak took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "It's a long story, Misty," he began, his eyes filled with a mix of wonder and sadness. "But it's best if Ash tells it himself."
Delia stepped forward, her eyes never leaving Ash-Latios. Tentatively, she reached out and placed her arms around his long, feathery neck, her embrace tight and trembling. "What happened to you?" she sobbed, her voice muffled against his warm body.
Ash-Latios's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he felt his mother's love wash over him. "It's a long story, Mom," he said, his voice shaking. "But I'm okay, really. I just... I had to become this to save someone important to me."
Misty and Brock looked at each other, their expressions filled with a mix of concern and admiration. They had known Ash to be brave, but this was a level of sacrifice they had never seen from him before. Though what could require this? Delia took a shaky breath and allowed her son to lead her back to her chair, her eyes never leaving his.
As they hovered there, Mimey, moved swiftly to the shattered teacup, his eyes wide with worry. He had always been a meticulous caretaker, and the sudden chaos was clearly unsettling to him. He began to manipulate his psychic powers, and the shards of porcelain began to dance in the air before him. They swirled together in a mesmerizing pattern, and soon, the cup was whole again, floating gently in his hands. With a grace that defied his usual comedic antics, he placed the cup back on the saucer and offered it to Delia with a tiny bow.
Delia took it, her eyes brimming with tears, and whispered her thanks. The gesture was so utterly Mimey, so utterly human in its concern and care, that for a moment, the room felt a little less alien. The sight of the restored teacup, so perfectly mended, served as a symbol of hope amidst the shock—a reminder that even in the face of the unimaginable, there could be moments of normalcy.
The room was silent as they all absorbed the gravity of the situation. Ash hovered in the middle of the room with Latias beside him, their combined presence filling the space with a palpable aura of power and grace. The furniture, once a familiar backdrop to countless evenings of laughter and warmth, now seemed small and insignificant beneath the shadow of their wings.
"Misty, Brock," Ash's voice was tight with emotion, "Do you remember what happened in Alto Mare?" His eyes searched their faces, hoping to find a spark of understanding.
Misty nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "How could we forget?" she whispered. "Latios gave his life to save the city from destruction."
Brock's voice was equally as hushed. "But you said you had to save someone," he prompted, his gaze flicking to Latias, who hovered quietly beside Ash-Latios. "I assume you mean Latias. What happened to her?"
Ash-Latios took a deep, shuddering breath, his claws folding in front of himself as if to protect from an unseen blow. "It seems, after Latios..." He paused, his eyes clouding over with the weight of his memories. "After Latios sacrificed himself, Latias was never the same," he finally continued. "The grief consumed her, turning her nights into endless cycles of painful dreams."
Misty's eyes grew round with shock, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh no," she murmured. "The poor thing… I knew she was upset, but…"
Ash-Latios nodded, his own eyes reflecting the depth of Latias's pain. "Her grief was like a beacon, calling out to the very fabric of the night itself," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "It drew the attention of Darkrai."
At the mention of the infamous Pokémon's name, everyone in the room gasped. Darkness seemed to coalesce around the name, a shiver running down their spines. They had all heard the horror stories—how Darkrai could manipulate nightmares and feed on them, a creature feared and revered in equal measure.
But Ash-Latios's next words took them by surprise. "Darkrai didn't come to harm her," he said firmly, his eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "He came to help her."
The room was as still as a held breath, the very walls seeming to lean in to hear his explanation. Delia's hand tightened around her restored teacup, her knuckles white with tension. Misty and Brock exchanged looks of astonishment, the very concept of Darkrai as a savior shaking the foundations of their understanding.
"Darkrai," Ash-Latios continued, his voice steady despite the turmoil of emotions, "saw her pain and recognized something in her. Something that resonated with his own solitary existence. He knew what it was to be alone, to bear the weight of the night's fears."
Misty and Brock exchanged glances, their thoughts racing. They had always understood Darkrai as a creature of malice, a nightmare-weaver, not a healer. Yet, the very idea that he could feel empathy was not entirely foreign. After all, they had seen firsthand the complexities of the Pokémon world and the depth of feelings that could exist even within the most feared and misunderstood creatures.
"So, Darkrai... he wanted you to help her?" Misty's voice was barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the delicate balance of the room.
Ash-Latios nodded solemnly. "He read her emotions," he said, his eyes flicking to the hovering form of Latias next to him. "Sensed our bond and knew that together, we could help her find peace. He sought me out and... everything changed."
Delia's eyes searched her son's new form, her heart torn between fear and awe. "What did you do, Ash?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ash-Latios took a deep, shuddering breath, his feathers fluttering slightly. "When I realized how much she was suffering," he began, his eyes never leaving his mothers, "I knew I had to do something more than just be a friend who visited from time to time. I had to become what she needed—a companion who could understand her on a deeper level, one who could share her eternity."
The word "eternity" hung in the air, a concept that had once been a mere curiosity to Ash but now felt like a weight that could crush him. He had been a human once, with a human's fleeting lifespan and human relationships. But now, as an Eon, the vastness of time stretched out before him, a horizon that seemed to never end. The thought was terrifying, but also filled with a strange allure.
Brock's eyes narrowed as he digested the implications of Ash's words. "Wait, so you're saying this isn't like that time you were turned into a Pikachu?" he asked, his voice a mix of skepticism and hope. "This isn't temporary?"
Ash-Latios looked at him, his gaze unwavering. "No," he said softly. "This is forever."
The room seemed to contract around them, the gravity of his words a physical force that stole the breath from their lungs. Misty's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Brock's jaw hung open, his mind racing to understand the magnitude of what they were being told. Delia felt the world tilt on its axis, the reality she had known shattering into a million pieces before her eyes. Her son, her precious Ash, was now a creature of myth and legend.
Yet, as impossible as it seemed, the truth hovered before them, undeniable and radiant. Ash-Latios's red eyes searched their faces, seeking acceptance, seeking understanding. In that moment, the bond between them was as clear as the crystalline waters of the Secret Garden—pure, unblemished, and as powerful as the love that had brought them together.
Delia stared at the creature that was her son, her eyes searching for any hint of the boy she knew within the majestic form of the Latios. "Why, Ash?" she finally managed to ask, her voice trembling with the weight of a thousand unspoken fears and questions. "Why did you do this?"
"Yeah, Ash. Why?" Misty stood up and took a tentative step forward, her eyes brimming with tears. She knew Ash, knew his compassionate heart that often led him to take on the burdens of those in pain. But this was different. This was a sacrifice on a scale none of them had ever contemplated.
"Misty," Ash-Latios said, his voice filled with the warmth of his human spirit. "You know I've always felt a deep connection with Pokémon. And when I saw the depth of Latias's sorrow, I knew I couldn't stand by and watch her suffer."
Her eyes searched his, looking for the friend she had traveled alongside, the boy who had become a man before her very eyes. "But to give up being human," she whispered, her voice cracking. "What made you make such a sacrifice, Ash?"
Brock stood up now, his features tight with a mix of admiration and anguish. He approached the floating figure of his friend, his hand reaching out to rest on the softness of Ash's new form. "You've given up being a Pokémon Master," he said, his voice gruff with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. "Your biggest dream, why?"
Ash-Latios turned to Latias, his eyes filled with a love so fierce it seemed to burn away any doubt or hesitation. He leaned in, his feathers brushing against hers, and whispered, "This is why." And before any of them could react, he pulled her in for a kiss that was as gentle as a whisper on the breeze. Their forms melded together, their essences entwining in a display of affection so profound it seemed to illuminate the room. The air was thick with the sweetness of their bond, the scent of jasmine and moonlit nights.