BossCar
Pokémon Trainer
- Pronouns
- He/His
Darkrai’s Eyes
Rating: G
Angst, Family, Friendship, Slice of Life
Rating: G
Angst, Family, Friendship, Slice of Life
Kroonstad, 1635.
The late morning sun beams its rays down upon the Alkmaardam region’s largest city, the sky poked by the spire of a imposing cathedral. Vaporeon happily swin throughout the canals, several approaching passerbys to receive pets. Ships come and go from the harbor, they are the building blocks of the trading network that has made the city thrive. The vessels that have docked are having their goods unloaded by groups of Machamp, the crewmen welcomed back as great champions. Not even the Gyarados in the distance can deter them, for they have trekked the mighty waters into the unknown.
Many of the buildings have a sober exterior, bricks being the most common material used for their construction. The streets and avenues range from compact to wide, all packed with crowds that flow like a river. Those who wish to battle must go to one of the several public arenas, the edges of the city, or outside of the city. One such battle, an aerial clash between a Talonflame and Pidgeot, occurs in the distance. Children point and run to catch a glimpse of the avians, marveling at the two Pokémon’s majestic movements.
A number of people, plus several Machop and Machoke, scour the massive market like a pack of Houndour and Houndoom. They pick up and purchase various amounts of asparagus, artichokes, cheese, butter, peaches, olive oil, and other edibles commonly found in the local cuisine. Cobblers and candlemakers are deep into their craft, whereas the aroma of bread and biscuits exit the ovens of bakers and beckon both people and Pokémon.
Beyond the market, the more affluent browse the booksellers and the art dealers, filled with the finest written and visual arts possible. The wealthiest of them all are split, some flock there while others flock towards the exotic emeralds, the glittering diamonds, the exquisite ceramics, and the tempting spices sold by both Kalosian and Paldean merchants. Perhaps even more interesting is the fact that these goods originated in distant, mysterious regions whose names have never passed through their ears. Where is this Hoenn located? What are these lands called Unova and Calvana like? Who is this Kyurem that is spoken of in Unova?
But the distant land that has gathered the most interest is the one called Johto. Local explorers proudly relive their voyages to the furthest corners of the world through the power of words, mesmerizing countless people and Pokémon with tales of encountering interesting people and their customs.
Optimism and prosperity is everywhere, laughter is spreading and imagination is blossoming. But behind the light can lurk a deep veil of darkness. That is what plagues the mind of one poor soul, a Pokémon called Darkrai. He is a powerful Pokémon, one feared as the bringer of nightmares. They say his kind likes to lurk underground, hunting for a soul to drag down into the abyss.
But he does not wish to harm, but his appearance and power have cost him greatly. He cannot enjoy the luxuries of his home, for that has been blocked by a dolorous decay that eats away at his mind, heart, and soul. At least many are too preoccupied to pay attention to him, but that is largely to his ability to travel as a shadow.
The people who recognize his moving shadow him either scowl or back up out of fear. The only reason they do not try to drive out "this accursed Darkrai" is because his trainer is Rembrandt Aendriessen van Remis, a desired master among painters. But despite such support, there is a giant void. What good is this power if he cannot be accepted beyond his trainer being Rembrandt?
He does not know what he did to deserve this, perhaps he is just a hideous monster. Why could he not be one of the many Liepard that crowd these wide avenues and narrow alleys? Why could he not be free and soar like the Talonflame above? Why does he has to be a miserable Darkrai, one who must stay lurking in the shadows like a scared child?
Is that even a proper comparison? The human children and the baby Pokémon carry an aura of innocence, one that makes older people and Pokémon smile. If not a Liepard, he would rather be an innocent little Eevee. Alas, there is no point in hiding, he may as well materialize and endure the disdain directed at him.
Maybe he had forgotten amount a time he sent people into deep nightmares—he can hear whispers about that power of his and his sinister intentions. Did he cause nightmares out of anger? Was he trying to protect himself and took it to a great extreme? Did he summon the shadow of death through a nightmare? Did another Darkrai do a dastardly deed?
Aat least there is one family who has welcomed him. And despite all of those foul feelings, he has a desire to explore the world. He has a heightened sense of curiosity about human civilization and culture that must be satisfied, and these humans cannot stop him.
It may appear to be mundane, but the house standing in front of Darkrai is his narrow, square sanctuary. He is not seen as a foul creature in this house, it is a place where he does not have to endure his punishment. It is why home means everything to him, a poor soul cursed to be reviled and forced to carry a melancholic boulder.
Upon entry, Darkrai's eyes lock onto the floor's wooden tiles. They are as tidy as ever, it is quite remarkable to say the least.
The parlor room, kitchen, and dining room are located on the first of the house's three floors. Further ahead of him lies Rembrandt's studio, and two limewood sculptures of Xerneas and Yveltal greeting all who enter it. Paintings by artists that Rembrandt admires are scattered throughout the house, the most common being works by a human named Titian. But the first paintings one sees upon entering the house are Rembrandt's self-portraits, portraits of Saskia, and a group portrait of him and the other Pokémon.
In the parlor room, a squadron of ceramics from ancient human civilizations are proudly on display. They surround a bookshelf with friezes of the Bagon, Deino, and the Dratini families protruding form the wide surfaces at the edges, the written works stored within in ranging from epics to philosophy to history. Two ebony armchairs are placed closed together, another cabinet with engravings of Rayquaza, Zygarde, Eternatus, and Giratina on each of the four doors.
His attention is quickly grabbed by the other Pokémon. Umbreon and Espeon wag their tails and jump, whereas Froslass lets out a joyful cry. Sableye and Gengar materialize from the ceiling to wave at him. The Pokémon he encountered throughout the city do not carry any disdain, but few have treated him so kindly like these Pokémon have.
In the dining room, a man with puffy and curly black hair straightens out his robe of the same color, his eyes looking down at his beret. A woman sitting across the table, Saskia van Bruin, caresses his hand. Her elegant bodice drapes on the chair, her plumed hat over short, wavy brown hair.
"My love, please tell me what is troubling you," Saskia says in a soft tone. "Is it about Darkrai? I am troubled by his unfortunate situation too."
"It is." Rembrandt hesitates for a moment. "The disdain for Darkrai is nothing more than the putrid stench of hatred," Rembrandt declares to his wife, who nods her head in response. "If they have a problem with our family member, they can come here to declare it."
"And if they were to try any foul behavior?" Saskia's blue eyes brim with worry. "He is one of our children."
"Then, my beloved Saskia, a portrait of them shall never be painted by me,” he affirms. “I have found that when I urge people to heed my warning, even the most distasteful among them shall not dare to tempt fate.”
“Even so, will that truly be enough to protect our child?”
“I do not know, but our powerful companions shall not stand by and allow a Pokémon to be unjustly attacked or driven out.” Rembrandt holds her right hand and kisses it. "I swear to you, on my reputation within this city, that nothing foul will befall Darkrai."
“I trust you, my love.“
Rembrandt stands up and kisses Saskia on the lips. He wears his beret and heads towards his studio, stopping to reassure Darkrai with a few pats. Upon seeing that he has returned, Saskia beckons him to approach her. Rembrandt smiles at both, then he resumes his walk..
"Welcome back, my dear Darkrai." Saskia kisses his forehead. "I know you love to explore the city, but it may be furthering your troubled state." Her warm touch soothes him. "Please take it easy and get some rest, my child."
Darkrai closes his eyes, basking in her motherly affection. The first time he met her, he did not take her a minute for her to welcome him into the residence. This was before she learned of his troubles.
"Later today, I would like you to be present in Rembrandt's studio," Saskia informs. "I have seen his latest painting, and it is one that will be of great significance to you."
Rembrandt has asked for his presence in the studio before, but it is the first time that Saskia has done this. Perhaps she wanted to make the request this time, but for what reason?
He shall find out in due time. For now, Espeon and Umbreon are eager to play with him. But Sableye, Gengar and Froslass want to play with him first, displeasure visible on their faces. They are rather silly Pokémon, but he would not have it any other way.
Impressive feats by his trainer and extensive learning about human culture have occurred in this studio, Darkrai muses. He wants to be like Rembrandt, a human who is both powerful and accepted, a human who has found great success. He loves to come here, he loves to hear Rembrandt discuss his craft. And what a treat it has been to see a great master deep into his craft! Such marvelous portraits, such beautiful and somber landscapes!
Among the landscapes, many of which carry a sense of mystery, are several history paintings. The subjects range from Yveltal leading an army of soldiers and Pokémon into battle to a man named Claus Gotler conducting an observation of a Gastly, a Haunter, and a Gengar. His personal favorite among these depicts said man’s father, Hugo Gotler, welcoming a Dusclops with a gesture of friendship. It reminds him of his first encounter with Rembrandt.
All of the portraits feature a human and a Pokémon linked together in beautiful companionship. The shipbuilder rests while the Machamp holds his tooks, a Glaceon sits and assists a merchant in sorting exotic jewels, the scholar holds an old book that intrigues an Alakazam, and a prince has donned attire decorated in lapis lazuli to match the groomed fur of his Arcanine.
The most significant paintings are two portraits. The first is of Professor Koen Gerresten, the researcher of the Alkmaardam region. The region’s champion and the professor’s wife, Maria van Collen, is the subject of the second. It is like these two humans are in the studio, their gazes locked onto him and their expressions carrying no disdain for his kind. It is not a façade, for he has met both of them in the flesh.
The professor wears a dark brown coat and has long and wavy white hair, a Froakie and a Fuecoco occupying his right and left shoulders respectively. The champion stands with her Rillaboom, her brown hair flowing down her back and her elegant gown decorated with seemingly endless amounts of lapis lazuli gemstones.
Now then, where is this new painting Saskia spoke of? It is not on the easel, so it must be on the table. Sure enough, he is correct. The paint has not fully dried, but many of these paintings have not dried. Rembrandt is like a Ninjask in terms of painting speed-huh?!
What is this?!
It's a painting of his kind, but it feels so real! Those eyes and that gaze, such intense might coming from them! He has met a fellow Darkrai, one who has embraced who he is! How did Rembrandt do this, how does he continue to excel?!
He continues to stare, the painted Darkrai’s powerful gaze seeping deeper into his soul. But then it hits hits him like a falling boulder.
It is not a fellow Darkrai.
It is him.
This is what Rembrandt thinks of him.
Like all of Rembrandt's paintings, this one has been meticulously detailed. Right down to the textures of his body when he is in his solid form. The background is darkened, is there a landscape hiding behind Rembrandt's signature dark brown? Or is it the cavern that he used to reside in?
Rembrandt painted a mirror so he can self-reflect, something he is now beginning to realize as overdue. Perhaps his mindset needs to change, but how can it when he feels excluded? How can he change his thinking when he is looked down upon?
"I struggle to express myself, but I do not struggle to paint others expressing themselves."
Rembrandt is standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and his smile proud. Rembrandt did not paint this for a patron, that much is certain. But what did a Pokémon like him do to deserve such a labor of love?
Why perform such a task for a grotesque abomination?
…Of course…it is because he is valued by a man who can paint anything and excel. And now, even he has achieved artistic immortality. Perhaps it is time to accept who he is and his power. Maybe it is time to venture out beyond the city, striking fear and awe in all who challenge him.
"A few days prior, I had seen a Caravaggio painting depicting two Pokémon called Reshiram and Zekrom come up for sale," Rembrandt says as he takes a seat. "Never had I seen so many attempt to claim the same painting."
Interesting, Darkrai muses. Which human bought the paintings? How much did it sell for?
"People take great interest in the unknown, that is why people were willing to spend a small fortune." Rembrandt points towards another painting, this one showcasing a shrouded land. "Take the mysterious land called Johto, very few among us have set foot in it," he continues. "But did you not see the crowd earlier, where they took in the explorers' stories with great intrigue?"
Darkrai ponders those words, perhaps he too can intrigue like this Johto? Could it be possible that more people are intrigued than intimidated by him? Is it a folly to only take in the disdain and contempt?
"Darkrai, please look over there."
Sketches? How did he miss the sketches of Banette that rest on a desk? …Banette…that Pokémon has endured just as much, if not more, disdain from humans. It is why wild Banette are among the most hostile Pokémon, but it only served to fuel the horrific tales of their bloodlust. If they refuse to change their attitude about Banette, then they shall continue to get what they desire. Nevertheless, he must avoid the same descent into madness at all costs.
He locks eyes with his trainer, and he can feel a sense of gratitude…towards him? He should be grateful to Rembrandt, not the other way around.
"As you must have guessed, I painted you the way I saw you," he says while patting Darkrai. "You are the Emperor of the Night."
An emperor?
He's an emperor?
Really?
“Once you began to accept that, they shall see your might in honorable clashes.”
That would be most welcome, perhaps it will assist him in accepting himself. He has seen how bright the bonds shine when a Pokémon is determined to achieve victory for their trainer. He has also marveled at the drama of grand performance battles. Such passion the humans have for the arts!
He looks at the sketches again, moving closer to the largest one. It is of him leading an army of Banette and Gengar against an unseen enemy. At the bottom right, Keizer van de Nacht is written like a declaration. A Galarish translation is below it, and it's exactly what Rembrandt said.
He is the powerful Emperor of the Night.
"This painting has also made me realize another way to guarantee my own legend," he affirms. "Imagine an approaching feeling of macabre upon seeing an frightful Pokémon, but not to gain respect through fear." He glances towards the walnut bookshelves outside of the studio room. "There are countless accounts from ancient times on Pokémon that struck terror into the hearts of even the bravest warriors. I shall channel that feeling through art, I shall strike with an aura of darkness."
A sound idea, Darkrai thinks. But he never expected to be artistic inspiration. It is the first time he has felt like he achieved something, and perhaps one achievement is better than zero achievements.
Darkrai’s thought process ceases when Gengar and Froslass began pushing him out of the studio. Didn’t he just play with them earlier? Why do they want to play again?
Ah well, he shall not complain about spending time with his family.
Another lively day in the city, the hustle and bustle roaring like a Pyroar. As per usual, a sea of affluent people scours the art dealers and bookstores, searching for paintings by great masters and written works by geniuses from long ago. One young man cannot contain his grin, for he has obtained an dazzling illuminated manuscript containing the speeches of a great ancient orator. Other men and women contemplate picking up manuscripts and printed books that ranges from history to philosophy to heroic tales.
Next to that large bookshop is one of the biggest art shops within the entire Alkmaardam region, its mundane façade hiding dozens of masterpieces. The owner, a middle-aged man with white puffy hair attempts to keep up with a battle breaking out over the desire to own a work by the great Titian Vercelli, a Ragulian painter from a former age. This marks the first time many have heard the names, and have seen visuals, of Reshiram and Zekrom.
Thankfully, the crowd does not obstruct the other customers. A sea of affluent people is a common sight for Jean-François Bequel, the son of Kalosian aristocrats. His family’s wealth can be seen on his long coat and breeches, the brown fabrics decorated in the finest lapis lazuli one can purchase. Monsieur Bequel is the gentlemen to seek out.
One of Jean-François’ best customers makes his way towards the shop, the passerbys making way for him and his Darkrai. The bickering crowd goes silent when Rembrandt and Darkrai enter the shop, and Jean-François greets the duo with a welcoming smile.
“Please, come in.” Jean-François gestures with his right hand. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
“The same applies to you,” Rembrandt responds, pacing his steps as he enters. “My friend, let us catch up before proceeding to business.”
As his trainer converses with the art dealer, Darkrai can feel the crowd's gazes locked onto him. Several do not seem to be disgusted by him, they actually seem curious about what type of Pokémon he is. Those who are repulsed decide to leave the ship, causing Jean-François to breathe a heavy sigh of relief. That is fine, for he does not need such repulsive energy around him. Nobody needs such a voracious and foul sensastion pulling them down.
Now that Darkrai thinks about it, this art dealer has always been friendly towards him. He first met Jean-François when Rembrandt was sketching out a portrait, and he must try to focus on humans like Jean-François. He tends to hone in on the negative reactions, he cannot even remember any other. He shall attempt to put an end to it from this moment foreward, he must remind himself until it lives inside his mind.
There is a sense of the unknown emitting from the paintings that surround him, increasing his curiousity about these Pokémon and his admiration for what humans can create. Who is this Groudon who commands the land to expand, this Kyogre whom the local sailors plea before heading out to sea? What compelled this human called Tintoretto to paint such mighty beings?
Then there is a man called Zifar, a king from Paldea who lived long ago. He was a human whose greed undid him when two Pokémon from a distant land, Chien-Pao and Chi-Yu, because incensed over being treated like objects. Their rage had infected wooden tablets and a cauldron, giving birth to Wo-Chien and Ting-Lu. Oh, how ominously this dramatic tale been captured by this Bosch human!
He would also like to know the tale behind the other Bosch—why is there a Mew hiding and laughing under a carriage? What did it do to cause a group of humans to scan the area with confusion and suspicion?
He may be one who lurks in the shadows, but the shadows of evil and vice do not lurk with him. No matter what he does, there will always be humans that do not like him and he will not be able to convince them otherwise. Therefore, he shall not allow himself to fall into the depths of ruin.
Hm? Rembrandt just inquired about other paintings not on display. What else lies inside of this building?
"I have another Darkrai painting that has just arrived," Jean-François tells Rembrandt. "Would you be interested in such a work?"
"Certainly, my friend." Rembrandt glances back at Darkrai, who's grabbed the attention of a group of schoolchildren. "Who is the artist?"
"One of your biggest inspirations," Jean-François replies. "Marcantonio Matteo da Caravaggio."
Darkrai observes his trainer and the art dealer for a moment, then he approaches them with a twinkle in his eyes. When the art dealer places it on the table, he backs up and falls into a memzermized state. How close this Darkrai is painted towards the person or Pokémon viewing it! Somebody could reach out and touch it, the background being nothing but the blackest of shadows!
Rembrandt and him never met this Caravaggio—news of his passing reached Rembrandt’s ears five days ago. His legacy shall be enormous, his style shall forever be regarded as ferocious and unapologetic.
How does he know this? It is because this painting says what it needs to say and it shows what it needs to show. This fellow brethren of his is also the Emperor of the Night.
In Darkrai’s eyes, he has the potential to reverse the foul rumors about his kind. Soon, his power will be unleashed in the most marvelous of battles. The lingering naysayers shall be given two choices.
Shall they surrender now, or shall they prepare to fight?