Flyg0n
Flygon connoisseur
- Pronouns
- She/her
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From the Ashes
Sun and rain. Light and dark. Life and death. Everything moves in cycles. Orre was not always a barren desert, and Johto was not always Ho-oh and Lugia's home.
A tale of rebirth. Of the past, present and one day, the future.
Sun and rain. Light and dark. Life and death. Everything moves in cycles. Orre was not always a barren desert, and Johto was not always Ho-oh and Lugia's home.
A tale of rebirth. Of the past, present and one day, the future.
I have been DYING to share this. Welcome to my contest entry for the 2023 one-shot contest, legendary POV! From the Ashes is a concept thats been lodged in my brain for several months now, after abruptly deciding Orre was the original home of the two legendary birds of Johto!
I won't ramble here too much, except to say I am proud of how this turned out! I had a lot of fun trying to capture the POV and language. There's a vague idea for an extended version someday, but for now have the OG version, unedited, as was submitted for the contest.
CW: discussions of death, death, moderate blood & violence
Please feel free to leave any commentary that comes to mind, both positive and negative! However I might not be doing heavy edits for now so keep that in mind. I am aware of apparent tense changes, according to other judges comments? The one in the first line 'we are Lugia and Ho-Oh' is intentional, as is the switch at the end of the story to present after the resolution.
Let me know if these don't hit stylistically. The end one in particular is meant to signify them sort of 'cacthing up' to present day but maybe this doesn't work. Any others are probably unintentional? Lmk lol, this is apparently a blind spot.
EDIT: A few minor adjustments have been made purely to smooth out tense. Let me know if you catch any though because apparently I am utterly tense blind.
See authors note at the end for additional notes.
I won't ramble here too much, except to say I am proud of how this turned out! I had a lot of fun trying to capture the POV and language. There's a vague idea for an extended version someday, but for now have the OG version, unedited, as was submitted for the contest.
CW: discussions of death, death, moderate blood & violence
Please feel free to leave any commentary that comes to mind, both positive and negative! However I might not be doing heavy edits for now so keep that in mind. I am aware of apparent tense changes, according to other judges comments? The one in the first line 'we are Lugia and Ho-Oh' is intentional, as is the switch at the end of the story to present after the resolution.
Let me know if these don't hit stylistically. The end one in particular is meant to signify them sort of 'cacthing up' to present day but maybe this doesn't work. Any others are probably unintentional? Lmk lol, this is apparently a blind spot.
EDIT: A few minor adjustments have been made purely to smooth out tense. Let me know if you catch any though because apparently I am utterly tense blind.
See authors note at the end for additional notes.
Life
Endless desert dunes sprawled before us; an unbroken sea of sand. In the distance rocky canyons gutted the land like reefs, and a dark mountain split the horizon, smoke pouring from the mouth. Together we soared across this expanse, the winds carrying us like currents through an invisible sea.
A silver soul and a golden heart. Brother and sister, two apart and yet together we were whole. Just as east and west have no border, nor did our spirits. We were wanderers, destined to cross the lands and seas for all of time, protecting the fragile world. We were bound to no one, and we were free.
We are Lugia and Ho-Oh.
And we had no home.
This was by design, my sister believed. But in the depths of my soul, I did not agree.
~
While my sister watched the sky, I watched the land below. A movement among the dunes caught my eyes, one not caused by the ceaseless winds and shifting sands.
Humans.
My curiosity bled into my sister, but she paid the small shapes below no heed. Her voice rang as harsh as the sun above.
"The affairs of mortals are not our own."
I made no reply. We both knew words were wasted; I sensed her disdain spilling over into me. The sensation did little to dampen my curiosity. To see a human this far from any village is a rare thing indeed, especially in a desert so harsh and a land unforgiving. My desire to know more far outweighed my sister's caution and frustration. I drew near to her and I touched my forehead to hers in farewell. With a final cry, I descended to the land below.
There I gave up my divine form, and made myself appear as a simple pokemon. A useful trick to walk among mortals unseen. I could hold the form for seven revolutions of the sun, enough time to observe these humans.
"You are acting foolish," Ho-Oh chastised me through our link.
I fluffed my feathers and took a few experimental steps in my mortal body. "And you are boring."
For a single revolution of the sun, I trailed after the small group of humans, remaining unnoticed. In that time, I learned they are a small clan, fleeing some mortal war. Their leader was a man named Osiri, and he was like the ocean. Fierce and relentless, yet gentle and adaptable. His people were weary and worn from long travels with little food, and many fights with wild pokemon.
I could not help but feel drawn to them. Despite their troubles, their spirits remained unyielding, Osiri's in particular. In the face of all the trials the desert produced, they did not fear, nor did they seek to turn back to the land they came from.
That night, as they assembled their tiny camp to ward off the desert chill, I drew nearer to them still. But curiosity, like any good thing, is dangerous when taken too far. And in my curiosity, I had grown careless. So fixated was I on the humans, I failed to see.
Perhaps had I been truly mortal, I would have noticed the signs. The unnatural curve of the sand sloping downward, the faintest shine of dark eyes, scales that were a shade off from the rest of the sand. I realized too late.
The sand around me erupted. Three sandile surged out, razor teeth and claws lacerating the skin of my mortal body with horrifying ease. Primal fear rose within me, swallowing me, drowning me in its icy embrace. In that moment I felt the chill of death breathing upon me. To die here would mean spending an eternity's moment in Yveltal's embrace while my body healed. Hundreds of years separated from the living world and my sister.
In despair I cried out for her and sensed her response, but I knew she had gone to the far edges of the desert. She would not arrive in time. Brown scales flashed in the corner of my vision. I reacted, too slow, too unused to this mortal body. Jaws close around my neck and I close my eyes and await my fate.
A terrible roar split the night and the jaws of death were torn asunder. As the sandile retreated, I turned to see my savior, a majestic Flygon, and by its side, a human wielder. Osiri.
Osiri brought me back to camp. Wounded as I was, I could not fight back, or return to my true form. There, he took me into his own tent, tended to me from food he could scarcely spare and with his own medicine. In all his ministrations, not once did he or his Flygon hesitate.
It was then my sister reached out to me, her presence hidden high overhead. "Shall I raze their pathetic encampment and free you, brother?"
"No. They are helping me. I will remain with them while I gather my strength and rejoin you later."
I sensed her disquiet and unease, rolling off her like turbulent waves. "... Very well."
For six cycles of the sun, I remained with the humans. Though they had little, they were generous. They protected one another, shared their burdens, and their supplies. The strong cared for the weak, and the wise led the strong. During the times they were not traveling, they battled together, growing stronger in mind and body, and bonding with their partners. In doing so, these wanderers understood each other innately, almost like pokemon.
On the seventh revolution of the sun, I revealed myself, casting off my mortal bindings and once again assuming my divine form.
At first, they cowered in fear, wondering if I sought to smite them. Humans were aware of our kind, pokemon spoken of in legend who possessed power and dominion far beyond any mortal. But they knew little of us, and ignorance so easily breeds fear. Only Osiri and his Flygon did not cower, and faced me with spirits unyielding. As ready to protect as they were to extend a branch of peace.
I eased their fears, and explained to them I meant no harm. Much the opposite. My soul was moved by their kindness and their plight, and I sought to help them in some way. So I approached Osiri, and I offered my power, and I asked him, "I can grant you one blessing within my power. Ask, and if it is within me, it will be yours."
I expected Osiri to request knowledge, or perhaps human wealth, or even power. An eternal blessing for his lineage.
Instead, he bowed before me. "I would ask of you only a small favor, not for my sake but my kin. Just a morsel of water, so we may quench our thirst, and ease the burden on our water pokemon. If it would not trouble you."
"Is that all?" I cannot help but chuckle, even as a warmth filled my soul. Faced with a god before him, Osiri's spirit remained pure and unselfish. He could have asked me for anything, and I think I might have given it to him, so fascinated was I by him. Yet all he asked for was a grain of sand in the desert of my power.
Then I would give him the desert.
"I can give you much more than that, young one."
Filled with resolve, I rose into the sky.
My sister, still unseen high above, spoke. "Surely you are not going to do this."
"These are good humans. Good pokemon," I insisted.
Her words were hot and harsh, like dying embers stoked. "No. They are mortals. Mortals are cruel and cause war and strife. They do not deserve anything."
"We should not turn our backs on hope."
"Do as you will, I shall take no part in this."
My sister's disdain did little to dissuade me. Osiri would not ask much of me, but I could give him and his people far more than simple temporary things.
I soared high above the flattest stretch of desert, an area marked by cracked bedrock and salt flats, an endless wasteland among wastelands.
Groudon forgive me, I thought wryly.
Reaching within me, I drew upon every ounce my power. Deep, deep under the earth, locked beneath the bedrock, I found what I sought. Swirling chasms of water churned below the sands and salt flats. With a mighty swell of psychic strength, I tore the earth asunder, calling for the sea.
It answered, water surging forth, filling the dead plains with new life. As my power drained away, the waters came to life, currents formed, and the land awoke. I did not stop until I had drained almost all my strength to stabilize the creation.
And I looked upon my work, I knew it was good.
My gift to them would be the sea.
They did not waste my gift. They worked hard and tirelessly, day after day, week after week. I was amazed by the speed at which humans moved, the ways in which they innovated and created, things which even we legends could not have conceived of. I suspected even the Original One would have been surprised by them.
Pokemon flourished, and humans thrived. With my gift, new life filled the waters, and the people of the land found a place they could call a home. They already possessed means to transform the salted waters to fresh, and swiftly found they could harvest the bedrock and rich clay in the canyons to build.
There, on the very shores of the sea I gave them, they built their first settlement, a small village. And as time passed, the village grew, and the people did as well. The sun circled endlessly, and in that time, as I regained my strength from calling the sea, I watched them grow, their spirits growing stronger, their hope never waning. Under Osiri's guidance, the village blossomed into a shining town.
On the anniversary of its formation, Osiri called out to me. I answered, rising from the depths.
"You have given us the sea, so we will give you back something. Every year we wish to honor you for what you did."
So he gave me two gifts; the first fruits of their harvest and a grand dais in the center of the town. It was a massive perch carved from a single stone, inlaid with fine jewels and delicate reliefs chronicling their journey here and our meeting.
All of me sought to deny their gift, for I had not given to receive. But as I gazed upon the people, I saw their earnest souls, pure and true. To reject it would be crueler than accepting it, so I did, resting myself upon the perch as the humans celebrated their new home with song and feast. With the strength from their generous gift, I also gave them back a blessing of good tides and harmonious weather.
After the blessing was given, I gave a second and final gift. A single scale of mine, which I bestowed upon Osiri. "You have proven yourself pure of soul. This will be a symbol of my blessing to you, and our bond. It will keep you safe and strengthen your spirit."
Every year after, the people gathered and threw a grand festival, and gave the first of their harvest to me, and I would give a blessing of the sea to them. And for the first time in many seasons, I discovered a new kind of happiness.
XXX
This was not my home.
We were meant to be wanderers, carried by wind and warmth, sailing the skies eternally. Free. Yet my brother was captivated by these mortal creatures. Captured by them. I could not share this fascination, for my heart belonged to the sky alone, to the sun and the winds. We were meant for liberty, unshackled by needless ties. But I could not leave my kin, for without him, I would be alone in this world.
So I remained, but I secluded myself far from the sea in a volcano at the edge of the land. Every year, I watched my brother go to their fragile human nesting site for their silly festival. Why he indulged them was beyond me.
Perhaps the humans' fancy structures held a certain beauty, and perhaps their little town displayed some creativity, but it was fleeting. Meaningless. A single storm from Kyogre or rend of the earth from Groudon could smite it in an instant. How could that be worth building?
Nevertheless, my brother needed me. Every winter at their festival, he expended a great deal of energy to bless the little mortals. If I did not protect him he would surely destroy himself in the process, and I shared some of my essence to restore him. So I remained.
Still, I was bored. And boredom was its own special kind of agony. I did not wish to stay, yet I could not bear to leave. My wings yearned for new skies and freedom. Many summers passed by in monotony. I took flights around my volcanic home, but otherwise remained in seclusion, content to be far from the humans.
Until a most curious thing happened.
As I rested within the volcano, something approached me from the peak. A human, and his pokemon. Humans are quite skittish things, so I cried out with a terrible shriek to drive it off. The human did not run. In fact, it gave a battle cry of its own, and called forth its pokemon partner, Flygon.
For the first time in many seasons, something burned away my boredom in favor of something much more pleasant. Surprise. The human fought me, displaying more grace and cunning than I expected. Though my power far surpassed their own, I found myself drawn into the battle. The dance of wills, the way their hearts became one in battle. There was beauty in it.
All too soon the fire of battle died, their valiant pokemon exhausted. In a heartbeat, I healed both pokemon and wielder. I wished to meet the one whose spirit burned so bright, and to face him again. He introduced himself as Osiri.
Perhaps my brother was not as foolish as I believed.
Osiri departed with his partner, but returned the very next cycle of the sun to challenge me. And again, and again, they came and challenged me. No more did I lapse into boredom, for I found myself looking forward to our meetings. Eventually, Osiri began to bring different humans, and I would challenge them as well.
Lugia informed me that my volcanic home had been given a nickname because of me - Mt. Battle. I found the name a bit dry for my taste, but that was humans for you I supposed. Yet, I felt oddly pleased as well.
The humans built a small nest at the base of my home, and I could not help but find myself drawn to it. Humans had a way of working with the land that even the most skilled pokemon could not match. Truly, they were a gifted species in their own right, if you liked that sort of thing.
The first passing of the seasons after Osiri challenged me, the humans called me from my home with a grand song. There I found a perch, much like the one carved for my brother, built in my honor, along with an offering.
Frustration burned within me. I demanded answers. I had no need of mortal offerings, and I was well capable of finding my own food. I did not want any fancy trappings or need their worship in return.
Osiri quelled my annoyance. "It is not a matter of need, Ho-Oh. It is gratitude. My people were happy, but we grew bored. You granted us the honor of combat, and for that we wished to thank you. Please, to refuse would devastate my kin."
Every part of me desired to reject it, but I knew I could not. Or would not. The thought of hurting Osiri and his kin saddened me too greatly. So I relented. But to ensure fairness, I gave them something in exchange. A portion of my divine power, a blessing of fair winds and bountiful harvests for the next season.
So it became that every summer I descended from the volcano and they threw their festival, and I blessed them, not because of what they gave me, but because I wanted to give them something. To help them. Even if their little village was small, and fragile. Even if the mortals were weak and frail.
By our combined efforts, the little patch of desert flourished beyond anything we could have foreseen. The people and their pokemon developed a harmony stronger than any I or my brother had witnessed in our flights through other lands. As time passed, some of pokemon's unique gifts even rubbed off on their human friends, a phenomenon quite rare indeed.
For the first time, my heart did not long to leave and follow the wind. And I sensed too, my brother's soul had found peace.
And so Osiri had given us our greatest gift - a home.
One hundred summers passed. In that time, Osiri grew as close to us as kin. He had children of his own as well, and his children had children. The land bloomed.
But time is a cruel ruler to mortals.
His spirit remained strong, but his body—as every mortals' did—began to fail. No longer did he dance with his kin during the festivals, and less and less did he make the pilgrimage to my mountain home for our battles or visit the sea to commune with my brother.
One day, as winter turned to spring, Osiri called to us.
"My dear friends. My time draws near. Yveltal has turned his gaze upon me. I will not see the next Festival of the Silver Tide or Rainbow Harvest."
My brother bowed his head and nodded. Accepted it. Like a coward.
I was no coward. "No, Osiri. Let me help you. With my energy, I can save you. I can spare you from the talons of death. To grant you a decade, even a century more would take only a small fraction of my power."
Osiri shook his head. "Thank you. But I would not ask such a thing of you, nor do I desire it. It would bring me no peace to take such a gift. Us humans are not meant to walk this world forever. I have lived well, and that is all I could ask for."
Anger flared in me. "What of your people then? Who will guide them?"
"I have already appointed others in my place," he said gently.
The flame inside me burned even hotter. "Then your kin?" I demanded. "What of your children, and their children!"
Osiri gave a soft chuckle, only fueling the flames of my frustration. How could he not be more upset? Did he not care?
"My children have grown old, and their children have flourished. They have made peace with the cycle we abide by. And my dear Flygon has crossed the threshold, and I wish to join him."
"And what about me?" The words exploded from me before I could contain them. Osiri's shoulders slumped and he broke his gaze upon me. I could sense the pain in his heart and I knew my words wounded him. But my anger burned brighter than my sympathy.
He reached out a hand to me. "Please. Would you not permit me the kindness of a peaceful death?"
"No!" I spat out the words like embers. "You don't deserve to die! If you were my friend you wouldn't do this to me."
Lugia growled. "Ho-Oh." A chill rippled through the air.
I ignored him and fixed my gaze upon Osiri. "Osiri."
He gave no response.
I whipped around and flared my wings at Lugia. "You are cowards! To accept death blindly, without remorse. Do you have no fighting spirit?"
The spines on my brother's back rattled and his eyes glinted like chips of ice in a frosted sea. "I see only one coward before me, who truly fears death."
The words pierced my heart and I flinched, and my brother flinched as well, pain and guilt melding between us. I spread my wings and gave a final glance to Osiri. "When you change your mind, you know where to find me."
Then I departed.
Cutting myself off from Lugia was impossible, we were linked too close, but I was able to dampen his presence. I secluded myself in the depths of the volcano, and waited. Waited for Osiri to understand. Waited for him to change his mind, to seek me out. To accept my gift.
He never came.
"Osiri is dead." Lugia landed on the mouth of my volcano. His soul churned endlessly and restlessly. His gaze was sharp. Angry. Grieving.
Perhaps my brother expected me to feel sad, as he did. The only thing I felt was burning, blazing anger. The lava stirred and churned, and the heat in the inner chamber increased to a level almost unbearable for any not gifted with inner fire. "Osiri was a fool. He brought this upon himself." Why should I be sad? "He had his chance and he rejected it."
Lugia said nothing, simply watching me, for a long time. I tried to mute the emotions and sensations from our bond, I could still feel them lapping at my mind. I could still sense the pain within him. Sparks crackled through my feathers. Did he mean to stare at me forever? "I warned you. We should never have interfered with mortal affairs."
"Then let us take our leave." Lugia's challenge crashed over me like a wave, but I pushed aside the panic that rose within me. His own emotions receded like the tide, and I couldn't read him. "We shall take to the wind and seas once more, leave this land to its devices. There is no longer anything for us here."
Our gazes met. The volcano's heat stirred my feathers. He stood stiff and defiant, unyielding. Finally, I shook my head. "No." My heart twisted and the fire within me smoldered. "I would like to remain for now. At least until the next festival. To ensure the people receive the blessing. Then we shall leave."
Lugia narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. With a flap of his wings, he rose skyward and flew away.
The festival in my honor came and went, and Lugia's did as well. Once, I stood at the lip of the volcano, wings spread, wind caressing my feathers. I thought about leaving again. Yet I could not. Osiri or not, everything in the land reminded me of him. I could not turn my back on it yet. Even if everything I saw only hurt me more.
More festivals came and went, so many I did not count. We continued to bless the land, though lately it seemed the people hardly needed it, for they were as skilled and proficient as ever, and the land only grew stronger under their care. An anger still burned within me. Lugia and I still communed, yet it always felt as if a fog had fallen between us; one I could not penetrate. Or perhaps, did not wish to. I was no longer sure if I could tell.
Perhaps if my vision had not been so clouded, I would have foreseen what came next.
XXX
Almost one hundred more mortal years passed. One hundred celebrations of the Festival of the Silver Tide. I befriended a few of the mortals, but none quite so closely as Osiri, though I would often speak with his descendants, and his descendants' descendants. Fewer and fewer over the years, but the mortals nonetheless appreciated our presence.
In the times I was not with humans or my sister, I occupied myself in the ocean's depths, resting. My soul had been uneasy as of late, turbulent. I never believed such a thing was possible, yet my bond with my sister felt weak, merely a trickle of what it once was. Perhaps she still resented me for not convincing Osiri to accept her offer. His death was still so fresh and recent to us.
Maybe after her upcoming festival I would see if she wanted to leave. Maybe the horizon could bring her peace. Then we could be whole again.
On the day of the festival, Ho-Oh descended from the sky to greet the humans, while I watched from a distance, my thoughts a ceaseless whirlpool. Just as every year, she landed gracefully upon the perch set before her. As every year, the humans came forward with their offering. And just as every year, they played their ceremonial song in her honor.
The song wove through the air, calming my worries. We were both saddened by the death of Osiri. Perhaps she simply needed gentleness instead of my scorn. As the last notes of the song drifted into the wind, my heart was decided. After the ceremony, I would make things right with my sister. And we would leave together.
Something sliced through my chest and I screamed. My head whipped downward as a horrible pain pierced my heart. Searing agony blotted out conscious thought. Blood, I expected to see trails of indigo blood pouring from a wound on my chest. Yet when I looked, there I saw nothing.
My chest, unblemished. No wound to be seen. Yet even in my haze, I could still feel the pain, the strength slipping away from me, my vision swimming. What—
Then I saw. Far below, splayed across her own dais of honor, chest stained dark with blood and a gaping hole in her heart.
My sister.
Our eyes locked, her gaze burning with fear and rage and confusion. I felt it, clear as the skies above, like a flame blazing to life, our connection strong again for a single horrible moment.
Pain burned out all conscious thought. Primal fear swallowed my being as my heart thumped erratically in my ears, blood pumping from my chest, filling my lungs. Despair. The drumming within me grew weaker, my heart tearing weakly in my chest, a gaping wound I could not heal from, blurring turmoil and a strangled cry for help—
And then I died.
I howled, my voice tearing the sky, the winds roaring around me. Black clouds swallowed everything above and lightning split the air. The void of a hurricane's eye opened within me, an endless pit of emptiness where my sister's presence once resided, a half of me ripped away.
Rage, horror and grief drowned and took hold of me, beams of devastating energy gouged the world as I laid waste to everything.
Pokemon, masses of them, rose up against me with their humans, empowered by their auras. In the turmoil of my mind, I understood too late. The mortals whom I had loved and given my all to now sought to end my life, as they had already.
Attacks struck me and glanced off, no more than an ember to the ocean or a drop of water to a wildfire. None of them meant anything to me. Vengeance and justice for my sister would be mine. But these were mere ants. I sought the queen.
One among the mortals, dressed differently, and stronger than the others. Her aura flared with uncommon power, as she commanded the other humans and pokemon.
Wind bent to my will as energy surged from my maw, razing the land around her and cutting her off. With barely a speck of my power I smashed her to the earth as I landed. My mind tore hers open as I cried out with fury like lightning. "Explain."
Even in her agony, she was defiant. Arrogant. Hates oozed from her soul like poison. "Kill me, it matters not, now. We have our freedom. We won."
"Freedom?" I made no effort to restrain the might of my psychic fury.
"You legendaries... We give you the best of our best but we're tired of living under your rule, beholden to your desires. This is our land. We refuse to rely on the whims of petty gods to supplant us any longer." She hissed out the words, triumphant. Happy.
I looked up from the fire around us, and I saw now, the truth I was blind to. Darkness, running through so many humans, even as a few innocent ones try to resist. The people I loved are not my people any longer, and have not been for a long time. Chilling rage pooled in the hole in my heart. I turned my gaze back upon the human. She did not cower before me or flinch.
"You see? We have already won. Even if you kill me we will never serve you again. You will never have what belongs to us. I am but one of many. We are free."
I narrowed my gaze disdainfully. "Then so be it." She did not speak again. Yveltal could have her.
Many of her ilk fled the area, but I knew they would be back. Those innocent, a disturbingly small number, seemed to have hidden themselves for now. The ones who remained to try to fight me never rise again. But there are many. So many, darkness in their souls, bitterness and greed and everything I did not see, because I did not look. Because I believed. Because I hoped.
I destroyed it all. I struck it down and chilled the land and scourged it with lightning and ice and flame.
When every living soul had fled or was gone, I was free to land beside the lifeless body of my sister. There I found a final, terrible blow. Buried in her heart was a single white scale. The very gift I granted Osiri so long ago.
I had killed my sister. For what else could be strong enough to kill a god as ourselves?
The winds howled and wailed through the now empty remains of the town, and after a moment I realized the wailing was my own, the sounds of my grief. I bowed and gently pressed my head against my sister's one last time. She was cold now, as cold as the stone of her perch, stained with her blood and dripping into the sand. Her spirit was gone, far beyond my reach.
Weeping, I gathered her lifeless body and brought her to Mt. Battle, and returned her to the flames within. Once the last vestige of her has been taken by the lava, I departed.
Anger boiled within me, a primal rage cold and white hot and burning eternally, as the skies and seas bend to my will and become a turbulent storm. All those who rose against me were razed. Those who were innocent, I spared. It was a small number. It was only as I glided listlessly across the empty desert that I felt the pain, and I realized the attacks I ignored from the humans had hurt me. To recover would take time.
Still I am consumed, alone, a half of a whole, a fragment without meaning. A shell.
So with the last of my power, I took back my gift. I drew upon all my strength, and I pulled back the waters, locked them beneath the earth again, until endless salt flats were all that remained.
Then I sank into the distant water, and I mourned.
Death
I awakened alone. Swirling, impenetrable gray mists surrounded me, broken by indistinct shapes that shifted and changed with the wind. The land had no true discernible form, only phantoms of trees and mountains. Though I had never laid eyes upon it myself, I knew without a shadow of a doubt where I was.
Yveltal's Embrace.
I was dead.
And I was alone.
For the first time in all my life, I knew solitude. A hole that ran far deeper than the one in my chest. The chasm that separated me from my brother was an impenetrable wall of gray, severing us in half. The link that I knew my whole life, the link that was my whole life, was gone.
My heart burned, aching with the memory of the blow that struck me down. That glint of shimmering silver-white. The price of his belief and my love. The very gift given to Osiri by my brother so long ago. Even longer still is the time until my physical body is healed. Until I will see my brother again.
For the first time I noticed my face and neck were damp. The tears didn't sizzle away, and I realized that I was cold. All my life I had known warmth, even in the harshest of winters. I was Ho-Oh of the Eternal Flame. Now I was nothing.
I bowed my head and I wept.
After a time, I sensed a presence, though it did not seem possible to track the passage of time here.
Turning about, I sought out the presence. The mists receded. Upon a gnarled tree rested a jagged crimson and black avian, eyes like cold flames and a neck ringed in pure white. He dipped his head. "Greetings, Ho-Oh." His voice was strange. Raspy, as if unused, yet with a tone of regality. I couldn't help but note how my name rolled off his tongue oddly.
"Yveltal." I spat the word, a spark of something forming inside me. I studied him but could not read his impassive face and stoic body. My talons dug into the nothingness beneath me.
He regarded me with frustrating calmness, his eyes free of any anger. He was studying me. "You should not be here." Despite his matter of fact tone, there was a sadness to his voice. A sorrow that rankled my feathers. As if I needed Death's pity. After everything he'd done.
"The Eternal Flame should not have been snuffed out? Truly a stunning conclusion to come to." My voice was drier than the desert I left behind.
A ripple passed through his feathers and his eyes seemed to harden before they softened again. "It was not meant to upset you. Forgive me."
Never. "Have you only come to speak nonsense, or is there a purpose to your presence, oh gracious Lord of Death?"
"Only to offer my-" he hesitated. "An affirmation. I regret that we must meet under such circumstances. One such as yourself did not deserve to come to these lands as you did, not after all you gave."
A tiny flicker of curiosity shined past my annoyance. "All I gave?" I studied him closer. Until this moment, my only knowledge of him was by name and purpose, never face to face. "What do you know of what I gave?"
Yveltal flew down and approached slowly, dipping his head as he passed me. Now at ground-level, I could see he stood taller than me, if only by a margin.
Once next to me, he stretched out a wing. With a graceful motion, he dispelled the mists around us, revealing a shimmering pool of water. The reflection rippled, distorting the image of the two of us, before warping into a familiar sight.
My former home.
The city I once loved, burned; a broken, stained dais, all that remained. Golden blood, my life and my love, everything I sacrificed year after year, draining into the sands. The few people and pokemon not slain by their kin wept in anguish and cried out in anger. I could not tear my gaze from the site of my death.
It was not until Yveltal spoke again that I was jarred from my trance.
"I often watch the mortal lands as part of my duties. And to observe the way you and your brother transformed the people of the land was a beautiful sight to behold."
"And what good is that beauty now?" I turned upon him, eyes blazing. "Everything we gave was for nothing."
"Not for nothing—"
I flared my wings and took a step towards him. "Do not speak as if you understand anything of what transpired. Just because you watched means nothing."
"I understand enough to see the truth," he said coldly.
"Truth? The only truth is we made a mistake giving mortals a chance in the first place. I have no need for your meaningless observations."
The mists thickened, and the air grew heavy. Tilting my beak upwards I continued to glare at him. There was no more to fear from him here. Now I could see the anger in him, the fluffed feathers and the disgusting smug look. Yet beneath that, a sense of... disappointment? Self-righteous bastard.
"Enjoy your eternal solitude." Yveltal turned and spread his wings, then vanished into the mists.
I watched him go, a chill swallowing me. No longer could I see the tree or the pool, only gray again. My feathers deflated and I was struck suddenly by the all consuming silence. I didn't like it.
Solitude gives me time with my thoughts. Too much time. Death took everything from me, but directing my anger at it was pointless now. For however long I was to be here, I do not find myself wanting to spend it in this terrible silence.
Restlessly, I soared through the mists with no purpose or reason, if only to occupy myself and hear the sound of my own wings. In time, another pair of wing beats joined my own. Wordlessly, I glided alongside Yveltal.
Apparently, it was I who had to break the silence. "Perhaps it was harsh to rebuke your thoughts so... hastily." Even if you deserved it. I turned to study him as we flew.
"So I see you finally sickened of your solitude." His voice was sharp and cutting now, lacking the gentleness from before. "Has the eternal flame finally burned itself out?"
In a second, my anger rekindled. "This is what I get for apologizing to death," I snarled. "I see you only sought me out to preen once more, mighty one."
Infuriatingly he did not flinch, or rise to anger. "I expected too much of you."
Heat flared across my body and red swirled through my vision. How dare death mock me on top of all he'd done? The embers of my annoyance blazed to life as I confronted him. "I have nothing to apologize for. It is you who owe me one!"
Scorn bled into his eyes as he turned upon me. "For what?"
The fires within me shifted from orange anger to white hot rage. "For taking everything from me! My home burns because of you. My brother grieves because of you. You snatched Osiri from me, took his life in your talons and killed him."
Yveltal shrieked, a horrible rising cry that drew the breath from my lungs and sucked the air from the very world itself. A pervading chill seeped down to my very bones. Words failed me like a sputtering candle, and my body betrayed me, my feathers wilting as I drew my head in and cowered.
His wings, spread out, seemed to swallow all that was around me. Darkness rose up in the mist until red and black were all that remained, and icy blue. His words pierced like a dagger into my chest, lodging into my lungs. "I am the god of death. Not of killing." His body screamed anger; spread wings and flared feathers, talons tearing at the ground. "Do not dare to think for a moment you know of my duty."
I could bear it no longer, and tore my eyes away from his gaze, the color gone from me. The air returned to normal and he folded his wings, a strange spark in his gaze. I felt his eyes lingering on me. Waiting.
I turned away before he could, spreading my wings and flying away.
Much time passed, time I spent alone. Solitude was agony, deeper than I could bear. My heart burned with resentment and roared with loneliness. Death to a divine is not as to a mortal. There are no other spirits in the realm. I am the only legend to have died, the only one foolish enough to have loved a mortal enough to bring such a fate upon myself.
The black pit in my heart grew as my thoughts turned to Osiri. Did he remember me with regret and disappointment? Perhaps he hated me for turning my back on him in his last hours. If he had simply accepted my offer I would not be here, alone. And if I had remained with him in the end, he would not have been alone.
The last ember of anger in me died out and my wings faltered. I sank to the ground as a keening cry escaped my beak. And as the weight of my loneliness dawned upon me I found myself wondering a strange thought.
Can Death feel lonely too?
When I flew again, I told myself it was to give myself something to do. But I knew in my heart what I was seeking. A part of me hoped for the rest of my time here, I would simply endure being alone, and then return to my brother so we could depart for a new land. The rest of me longed for peace.
Familiar crimson graced me after what felt like another eternity. I cannot ignore the way my heart soared at the sight. The air between us rippled and thickened with tension. Caution replaced the kindness of the first time he greeted me, along with a cool anger.
I landed, steadying myself on the formless earth. My eyes met his and I bowed my head. "I am sorry." A flicker of surprise ran through him and he tipped his head. I continued. "For so long I was angry, and when I saw you... I saw him."
When Yveltal spoke, his voice was like a gentle caress. "Osiri."
I flinched at his name, and hung my head. "I convinced myself he rejected me and you took him from me. But I turned my back on him. When he needed me most, I was not there. It was I who turned my back on him."
He didn't speak, as if sensing I am not done.
"I'm sorry for being so cruel to you. You came to me to try and offer companionship and I gave you anger instead."
Instead of a rebuke, he drew alongside me, pressing his body against my own in a gesture of comfort. "I am sorry as well. In truth, a part of me envied you. To walk among mortals, to be loved and celebrated. Even though I understand it is not my place, I have found myself wishing to experience such a gift. To see you reject it stung me."
My heart lurched. I'd spent so long dwelling on the pain Osiri's loss brought, I had forgotten his love. The home he gave me. His gift. And I had not considered how it would feel to never have known such love.
Yveltal continued, his voice low and gentle. "Anger is a terrible thing. And the guilt it brings is a heavy burden, and I would not wish that fate on anyone. But you must not allow yourself to be consumed. If you cannot move past the darkness it will define you."
"Then what am I to do?"
"You must let it die. If it dies, you can move on, and you can grow. But as long as it lives it will have a hold over you."
"What if the pain is all I am now? What happens when it dies?"
"Then? You are reborn."
Time passed, and my sole companion amongst the mists was Yveltal. Though he was occasionally away, tending to his duties in some way, he always returned. In our times together, we observed the mortal world.
In the aftermath of my death, my land transformed. The earth has a curious way of remembering the deeds committed upon it. The blood of my betrayal stained the sands and poisoned it to its very core. It cast a deep shadow over the hearts of wild pokemon, blackening them and shutting them off to all but their pain.
Though the humans were not changed the same way, as they did not have the same connection to the land, the poison ate at them nonetheless, little by little. Pokemon and humans began to leave and in time, all that remained of the home I knew was a barren wasteland, devoid of color. A place no pokemon could survive, and no human could live. Even my brother was powerless against these shadows.
So it remained, for hundreds upon hundreds of seasons; until I lost count.
At least I was not alone as I watched. Yveltal brushed his head against my neck.
I turned to him, searching yet dreading to ask. "Can it ever be whole again?"
"Yes. But it will require hope."
I could not help but snort in amusement. "Hope? Hope brought us here."
"That is not all it did. Before the sea and before the blessings you and your brother gave, and before Osiri, the land had nothing. You gave it life."
I tipped my head, studying him. "All we gave was a few simple blessings... the humans did everything, and destroyed everything."
Yveltal's gaze is distant as he speaks, yet smoldering with an admirable intensity. "To hope... it is more than an empty feeling or some paltry wish. Your brother sought a future where humans and pokemons could live in peace, so he gave them the sea. You opened your heart to Osiri, and the people became strong because of their time battling you." He turned, fixing his eyes on me.
"As long as you are willing to believe and act on the future you seek, there is your hope."
Death ended too quickly.
A thousand conversations together were but an instant, forever stamped on my memory. All the time we spent together still felt like only a brief moment to me, and I found a part of me wishing I could remain in his company.
Yet my heart yearned to return to the blue skies and the familiar winds of the mortal world.
We perched side by side on the edge of a misty volcano, gazing into its maw. Gray swirled below me, an impenetrable fog, but at its center pulsed a scarlet glow. A barrier between this world and my own. The way back to the mortal world, now open to me.
I turned, running my beak through his feathers, preening him as we are accustomed to. He returned the gesture, and for a moment, we savored the silence and company.
"There is something I need to tell you before you go."
I listened, ignoring the way my heart started to race.
"Osiri does not hate you."
My heart skipped a beat and I turned to him in surprise. Oddly, until now, it never occurred to me to ask him about Osiri. Or perhaps I had been afraid to.
"He loved you as his own kin, until the end. And he would want you to know that he understands your anger. Everything you needed to say, you told him without speaking aloud. He forgives you."
It had been a long time since I had cried, but I could not hold back the tears any longer.
With his final words, Yveltal had given me back something I hadn't realized I'd lost. Words felt like a paltry expression for the feeling I wished to express. So instead, I said nothing, leaning closer to him as we spent our final moments together.
Rebirth
Lava. Surging past me as I soared upward, bursting forth and free from the maw of Mt. Battle, my cry filling the skies as I proclaimed my return. As I crossed the threshold between the land of mortal and the land of spirit, a wave of emotions overwhelmed me, a burning torrent tearing open my chest and setting every feather alight.
My consciousness slipped away and I found myself drowning, buried beneath a thousand tons of ocean and watching myself through the eyes of my brother, body splayed across the sand.
Anger and a horrible primal fear as I lay there, my blood pouring from my own chest— A strangled cry escaped my beak as memory after memory bled through me until the boundary between reality and past and my brother's emotions threatened to sweep me away.
"Ho-Oh."
His voice drew me from the depths and I found myself opening my eyes, not even aware I had closed them. My wings were limp but I was airborne, and I recognized the telltale blue shine of a psychic hold keeping me from plummeting to the ground below.
"Lugia." To speak his name again felt like the first wind of spring, pure and blissful. He hovered before me, eyes shining with iridescent tears. The wind gathered under my wings and my heart stirred. I leaned forwards, pressing my forehead against the cool scales of his own forehead.
Finally, we are whole again.
As one, we danced through the skies, and for a moment, I was free. I was happy.
The feeling didn't last. I saw our home below, ravaged, and my brother's shame washed over me. No life remained, only gray and shadow, my blood a poison that tarnished the very core of the land.
"You were right, Ho-Oh," my brother said. He banked, setting his sights on the distant horizon, his back to the sea. "It's time for us to go. I only wish I'd seen the truth earlier."
I didn't follow. I wanted to. I longed to go, to leave behind the glass burned sands and frosted canyons, and the lava scorched slopes of the volcano. But I think of Osiri and all the humans we did help, and of Yveltal.
"No."
Lugia stopped and turned.
"You were right. To be curious, to believe in a better future and to try to help."
"But what can we do? There is nothing left for us," Lugia said softly. "The curse runs deep, and will not be forgotten. It cannot be undone. Life has left this place, even wild pokemon will not stay."
I gazed out upon the land which we once called home. "You're right, we can't fix it now. But we can still choose hope."
Lugia stared at me, puzzled. "Choose hope?"
I sensed him probing for answers, but I kept my thoughts hidden. The words I wanted to say, I wished to speak out loud. It was the only way to make them real.
"We can't save the land if we believe it is lost. To do nothing is to doom it, but I desire to see the sea return and the shadows repelled." My heart grew heavy with every word I spoke, until it was almost leaden in my chest. "You once gifted Osiri the sea. Now I will give my own gift."
"Ho-Oh..."
"A divine bestowment."
My brother recoiled sharply and I forced myself not to block his shock and fear. It washed over me, pulled at me, begged me to change my mind. But my heart was already set. If I channeled all my energy into the land, I could heal some of it. Repel the shadows. Enough of it that the future would have a chance. Even if it meant more separation, and perhaps cost my divinity.
Unflinching, I met his gaze. "I am sorry, so very sorry. But I have to do this."
"Why? For what?" Lugia asked.
"For who," I replied softly. "Osiri. I refused to accept his death, and my last act in his life was to hurt him. I want to do good. No matter the cost."
The clouds overhead became gray, and a few raindrops fell across my feathers, then vanished with a sizzle.
"But why? Haven't you already given enough?"
"This land was barren once. You chose to believe in a human. And in return, he brought life. He gave us a home, and he gave us love. Then the ones who called this home turned their backs on us, and stole my life. But as cruel as those humans were, if we believe all are as them, then we are giving up. My first life was taken from me, but my second I can give freely."
As I continued, I locked eyes with him. "If I give my life for this land by choice, I can give it a chance to be whole again. Not now but... in time."
Lugia gazed out across the horizon, and I could not read his thoughts. "I hated them for what they did to you. For nothing. No reason other than falsities they placed upon themselves. Am I to watch you die for them again?"
"There cannot be change without death." I drew close to my brother, and brushed my wing against his. "I am not dying for the ones who slayed me, but for the future. If our home is to one day be reborn, this is the only way."
He turned to me, his eyes blazing. "Then I shall give my own blessing as well. Even weakened as I am, with both of us bearing the burden, perhaps it will not take our lives. And perhaps one day, we may see the seas return and the land whole again."
I could not argue with him. His mind was as set as mine, our hearts and souls resolute. For this, we would give all we could.
In the end, we did not lose our life, though we drew so near to death I imagined I saw a familiar flash of crimson and black, and a watchful cyan gaze. Thank you, I whispered in my heart.
Hope cannot undo the damage done. It cannot bring back the wild pokemon or rewind the scales of time; nor can it burn the shadows from the land. But it can bring color. It can spark a fire, a blazing carpet of green on the slopes of the very volcano my body was once laid to rest. It can raise up a forest where only rock once stood, and it can bring a tiny flicker of life back to the land.
It cannot make right the wrong, but it can give a second chance.
Golden desert dunes sprawl before us; a tapestry of shining sand. In the distance, a scarlet-mouthed volcano looms over copper canyons carving through the land. A river of azure water weaves through the emerald slopes to the west. Together we soar across this expanse, the winds carrying us into the rising sun.
A golden heart and a silver soul. Sister and brother, two apart and yet together we are whole. Just as east and west have no border, nor do our spirits. For now, we are wanderers again, bound to guide the hearts and souls of mortals.
We are Ho-Oh and Lugia.
And we have no home.
But one day, we will.
I figured I'll address a couple common worldbuilding/story stuff real quick for further reviews.
Feel free to continue to give any advice in how to clarify the following in a concise way, if you feel the story would be improved by it!
The Betrayal:
The betrayal of Ho-Oh is intentionally, sudden, abrupt, and without reason. Ho-Oh didn't do anything, and there's no unreliable narrator elements at play. Neither Ho-Oh nor Lugia did anything wrong. They gave a blessing to the land, and the festivals and everything they received in turn was a free gift they didn't want.
What did happen is after Osiri's death, as humans do, they grew ignorant of their history and past. They forgot that the legends blessings was a free gift and the festivals were for gratitude. Instead they were swayed by their own fear and selfishness to resent the legendaries, believing they were beholden to them. That they were somehow being forced to give these festivals and gifts and honor the duo. That somehow they were slaves to legendaries.
Thus a group formed within Orre's people determined to slay the legends and take that power, and end the cycle of blessings (which by this point were hardly needed, ironically). They sought to kill Lugia after ambushing Ho-Oh, but failed. Lugia kills the leader of this rebellion in revenge. Its a tragedy of human selfishness.
Not all of Orre's people agreed or sought to do this. The ones who disagreed, fled or were killed by the civil war.
Now to be clear, a lot of this is context thats unclear. Some was due to word constraints, or time. Some of it is narrative purpose of conciseness and limited POV.
I fully intend to preserve the shock of the betrayal for themeatic and narrative purposes, but I welcome any advice in how to make the followup a bit clearer now, without time/word constraints (although I'd still hope to keep it short).
Yveltal's Embrace/Afterlife
Legendaries and humans have a seperate afterlife. Yveltal oversees both, and is locked into the realm of the dead but can ocassionally leave. When a legendary dies, they rarely die permanently, rather their body must be reborn. However such a powerful physical vessel takes time to regenerate, regardless of the injury or the legend. In this time, the legends soul resides in Yveltal's embrace, aka the afterlife.
A legendary dying is rare, and challenging to do. Legendaries are aware of what happens if they die, but its probably only happened a couple times. In this case, its Ho-Oh's first time.
Blessings
Legendaries can bestow/use their power to influence the natural world, but doing so always requires some sacrifice, generally loss of power and leaving them vulnerable. Simple blessings like harvest or some weather are easy. Something like the ocean thing is pretty hard and exhausting, leaving a legendary fairly vulnerable (as in, more killable by a mortal, etc).
The 'divine bestowment' at the end is essentially the most powerful form of blessing, imbuming the land itself with divine essence. It would basically risk leaving Ho-Oh mortal or near dead, severely depleted. However two legendaries sharing the burden lessens the severity. Thus they were essentially able to create the foundation for modern day Agate, driving out the corruptive death/shadows plaguing Orre and kicking off the future way to purify shadow pokemon.
Feel free to continue to give any advice in how to clarify the following in a concise way, if you feel the story would be improved by it!
The Betrayal:
The betrayal of Ho-Oh is intentionally, sudden, abrupt, and without reason. Ho-Oh didn't do anything, and there's no unreliable narrator elements at play. Neither Ho-Oh nor Lugia did anything wrong. They gave a blessing to the land, and the festivals and everything they received in turn was a free gift they didn't want.
What did happen is after Osiri's death, as humans do, they grew ignorant of their history and past. They forgot that the legends blessings was a free gift and the festivals were for gratitude. Instead they were swayed by their own fear and selfishness to resent the legendaries, believing they were beholden to them. That they were somehow being forced to give these festivals and gifts and honor the duo. That somehow they were slaves to legendaries.
Thus a group formed within Orre's people determined to slay the legends and take that power, and end the cycle of blessings (which by this point were hardly needed, ironically). They sought to kill Lugia after ambushing Ho-Oh, but failed. Lugia kills the leader of this rebellion in revenge. Its a tragedy of human selfishness.
Not all of Orre's people agreed or sought to do this. The ones who disagreed, fled or were killed by the civil war.
Now to be clear, a lot of this is context thats unclear. Some was due to word constraints, or time. Some of it is narrative purpose of conciseness and limited POV.
I fully intend to preserve the shock of the betrayal for themeatic and narrative purposes, but I welcome any advice in how to make the followup a bit clearer now, without time/word constraints (although I'd still hope to keep it short).
Yveltal's Embrace/Afterlife
Legendaries and humans have a seperate afterlife. Yveltal oversees both, and is locked into the realm of the dead but can ocassionally leave. When a legendary dies, they rarely die permanently, rather their body must be reborn. However such a powerful physical vessel takes time to regenerate, regardless of the injury or the legend. In this time, the legends soul resides in Yveltal's embrace, aka the afterlife.
A legendary dying is rare, and challenging to do. Legendaries are aware of what happens if they die, but its probably only happened a couple times. In this case, its Ho-Oh's first time.
Blessings
Legendaries can bestow/use their power to influence the natural world, but doing so always requires some sacrifice, generally loss of power and leaving them vulnerable. Simple blessings like harvest or some weather are easy. Something like the ocean thing is pretty hard and exhausting, leaving a legendary fairly vulnerable (as in, more killable by a mortal, etc).
The 'divine bestowment' at the end is essentially the most powerful form of blessing, imbuming the land itself with divine essence. It would basically risk leaving Ho-Oh mortal or near dead, severely depleted. However two legendaries sharing the burden lessens the severity. Thus they were essentially able to create the foundation for modern day Agate, driving out the corruptive death/shadows plaguing Orre and kicking off the future way to purify shadow pokemon.
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