The Weight of a Soul
A bitter cold held a tight grasp through the forest, a love for the dead ancestors, but not the Pokémon that evolved from them.
The moon's glow silhouetted the rocky top of the mountain. A widened path down the mountain for a large Pokémon, that can smooth the road and plant seeds that sprout along the way up to their den.
The Aggron, not noticing the moon's reflection of the sun like a mirror, cast down its cold light in front of their cave. The clouds had begun peering inside the sleepy Aggron, with a shadow walking by the moon’s peering light in the darkness.
An eerie glow that shapes up into threads of seafoam, a house picture of a cabin of integrity. If it were a simple picture, it was surreal to remember. The Aggron was aloof in memories, a sight of staring at wood after following a rocky trail.
Threads of their dream became a snack, for one ghost, and one more uncaring for others to sleep around the area. Gengar was out of the shadows. Stretching for their morning after midnight, with the moon peering away after Gengar took a slow and patient time with eating, Aggron's dream.
When the dreams were absorbed, the unnoticeable flutter of the Aggrons lifted their gaze. They were unable to notice the shooting star approaching at comet speed. It was just their uninvited guest, 'whose weight on the world is the one wanting the dead as their companion to have more company,' Mother said.
“...Did you give me nightmares so you could eat more?”
The Gengar looked back, tilting their head with their smile, and gave a casual shrug.
The moon shines down on their translucent fur, outlining their curvy, rounded bodies. Gengars weren't known for their gender difference. But the off-putting contrast of soft, sharp eyes looking comfortable after a well-fed meal had tied Aggron's stomach.
The Gengar's flaming fur of their shadow silhouette, phasing out of the mountain. They gleamed through the forest before the sun rose for others' dreams. Grinning a haunting face of gleam for eating their 'Morning breakfast dew'.
Renergized to leave a soul-sleeping sound. But even the ghost-type would chuckle over their dismay as they left their den. The Gengars’ eyes contorted back to how it was to an uncaring and prankster gleam like their smile.
The trail, dirt smoothed, and footsteps from a dragon made of steel smooth down the path and hold the forest neatly. A bigger Aggron repetitively watches the dance of the pond market, sitting by the cliff.
A Clefairy egg by the mountain's south side, no Clefables live on this particular mountain. Well, if you were someone who hiked and didn't take any visual clues. It is not like there will be any for the Gengar to notice, for there is only a pink and brown contrast between the gray spikes.
Was there a Ditto sleeping? No dreams sensed, so whose soul isn't sleeping so small? It was but an egg, in the dusty smell of rain. What poured down on this side of the mountain? Is there a cave that had its overflowing flood like a volcano, of silent death of the dead?
There was a lot of water here. The Gengar couldn't care after the thought of climate politics came. Their nice, nice-tasting nightmares other Pokémon would guess.
A flame sparks inside its shell. It falters from being small. Around it, there is a lot of rubble.
But Gengar’s hand grazes over the head of the egg. An egg can't cry; an egg is only a cradle for the baby inside.
Gengar fades away, trying to take a closer look at the soul realm.
The soul felt itself under the palm of shadows.
The Gengar feels trivialized, with the soul not flickering like a Worried Litwick.
In Gengar’s palm, the flame balanced a little more. The sun was dampening the sky in tangerine, the color of oranges that June would harvest. With the sun, staining the sky with red herbal tea, the Gengar was left… lost in thought, smiling in their eyes.
And then the afternoon sang, in the leaves, whistles and underground rivers hit the sides of rocks.
The stronghold taiga trees of rough bark and pinecones, the orange sky seemed to drain its color on the leaves, shadows dance, and bush flicker. Tree scratches and Pokemon-marked dens and shrubs. It was down by the side of the southern side of the ghost mountain, fewer Pokémon, more empty.
Quagsire had 3 injuries dusted across her body; One crossed the side of her eye like a miss, a bruised arm bandaged around her right shoulder, and a bruise around her outer right leg.
"Hey! You'd already had your breakfast."
She shouted, being annoyed and a bit brash to the sonder pansage. Something cold burdened the wind heavily, on the edge of the mountain and the small meadow.
“It's Ariados from the webbed embroidery bushes! Have some respect for your market neighbors or whatever you call the market beside you.”
The little Pansage stared at her. Looking around for any Ariados she spoke of. No apprentice or hungry seller in sight. Feeling ready for another bite of redberry delight, that’d taste better stolen.
Till a sudden glance at red eyes locking eyes at the bush, glazing past the Pansage.
The Pansage froze and dropped the raspberry. Hitting for a sprint behind the Quagsire.
“Hey!”
The Quagsire yelped, picking up the shaking Pansage to lecture. Abruptly sighing and leaves hand in hand.
Gengar picked up the fresh leaves inside the stem, the nice trees surrounded the bushes, healthily meshing with the other bushes that caress something fruitful.
Far from the trail of an old dry well, willow trees with disorganized missiles punctured and fell beneath the tree’s roots. The willow trees are in a circle around the taiga, which is the only reason the place would be called Willow Peak, at least until you see the willow trees growing at the side of the mountain.
Maractus rolled their shoulders, taking a breath of the earthy air, winding up and down their shoulders like the wind hitting the rocks. They look over their left shoulder, blazed and dry with scorch marks of black outlining a fiery detail from the brown wound...
“Oh hey Gengar”
Gengar plucks the pins that got embedded in the trees. Gengar carried quite a handful.
“Bye, Gengar.”
Gengar looked back with a welcomed smile, seeing Maractus back, and waved back with a small bye.
Fraxure rolled down the willow trees' bigger roots, clawing out of the ground. taking the leaves from the Fraxure Pokémon's head.
“Oh, thank you, shadow mon.”
Gengar smiles, seeping into the shadow of the willow tree branches.
Back to their home in a splintered gaze, the egg resting on the ‘good’ pillow side. No risks to see if resting the egg on top of the puffy pillow will off-balance the egg with a splash.
Nesting on the rock wasn't soft enough. Cleaning off or taking the leaves that seemed crunchy and dry from autumn sleeves, sliding the leaves off the edge of the hidey hole. Gengar was glad that the willow tree’s enrichment might only dry in winter.
Gengar let their shoulders rest, eyes anticipating something they wouldn't hold for long.
Gengar held the Clefairy egg up to them. Stargazing at the egg. As if the Gengar was staring at the meteor in the sky.
He placed the egg back down onto the leaves nicely, leaving their cave filled with boxes. The river flowed, hitting the dead end by the Gengar’s doorstep.
Gengar levitated up, looked up, squinting at the sun.
The sun, which finally grazed the clouds, made the stained glass path of the market get splashed in vibrant colors. Tea bags gave the market a flavorful aroma, and webbed embroidery was hung on the stalls. With a dragon-type living there inside a newly hollowed out rock by the town. Cement and dried tea leaves were the most noticeable smells, if it weren't for the newly grazed grass, by the migrating Deerling in the morning
And Gengar passed the town, making a sawsbuck shudder in a chill. Enjoying the warmth, and catching the flowers from the Sawsbucks antlers.
Sawsbuck kicked the air. Because the Gengar wasn’t there.
Gengar ends up in the middle of the market, levitating across the stained glass, walking around the pond that was there. The smell of raspberry and citrus-dried oranges hanging in some windows and stalls around the willowing town was more pungent than the rock, grass, and teas. At least when it's closer to the pond, the smell is more stuck in the air.
The trees were willow trees, like the few that were planted. Just big, brown, and huskier for winter. Some hollowed, some not.
Aggron whimpered, down by the road heading towards the mountain, next to the taiga trees.
"Aurora, could I have the splinter on your-"
Aurora, the awake and hissy Aggron, cuts to the point quite angrily.
"Then don't eat my dreams anymore."
They held their tongue, panting through their teeth.
Their rose gold charm bracelet sparkled from the sun gazing through the trees. The bracelet had a spinal and tera stone that was pink and all-seeing. Making a bit of noise to attract a few murkrow in the trees.
"What did you ask?" Another Aggron appeared from the quiet rustling of their dexterity in the area, they fondly looked at the bushes and trees.
"A Simple Request," Gengar answered.
Gengar’s Physical presence was still similar to its shadow. Purple only glistened when the sun hit the outline of their body, somber eyes like a blood moon calmed the Aggron.
“Yeah, and that is,” Aggron asked again, leaning down to the Gengar’s height.
No answer, just a smile, eyes following the Aggron.
“What is it that you want?” Yamask asked, since the third time might be the charm. Gengar points at Avilara’s palm, “a splinter?”
A Yamask peered out of the tall grass, and beside the two Aggrons, bored.
“I say Gengar’s been nesting with the omen of surprise.” Yamask chuckled, much to the dismay of the Aggron Avilara.
“...” The Gengar was waiting patiently with a following gaze, “I apologize for the assumption of this errand, I am Avilara, let’s not have this be a bad impression.”
Avilara has yet to get acquainted with the full-moon troublemaker, quietly keeping to themselves.
The Gengar still smiled, “It’s good luck to have the blood of a big Pokémon for a nest, energy from the blood can make an egg strong. And this is just the right typing from a dragon type.”
The message hauntingly goes by the wind, unphasing the mother, but terrifyingly confusing Aurora. The Yamask laughed, wiping a small tear, “Sure, a dragon-type that hoards nothing but rocks.”
Avilara holds out her son's palm. With him whining when the splint was removed.
His mother side-eyed him, “Eh, it’s just a wooden splinter.”
“From an old woody tree.” He responded in defence, recoiling his posture back.
“What else is it supposed to be made out of, sonny boy?”
Yamask taunted, while his mother looked back at Gengar. And dropped the thorn in his hand.
With a wooden splinter with Aggron blood, the eggs' health has never made the Gengar any more hopeful than they confidently were for a strong egg.
Gengar placed the thorn by the egg, their nesting complete and back home at their dens hidden ‘attic’.
The Gengar nestled back into their cave's shadow, with a flare of soul from their newfound kin. Maybe they heard giggling in their ears, with their ears flicking up, staring at the egg with star-struck eyes.
The far up of the cave had a hole that the Gengar floated right up to. Sitting up the crevasses. A drop like that would break any egg, but out of claw reach if they don’t know where to look
The Gengar's eyes splintered, the pittering flame of the egg.
Gengar rested on its eggs. Their claw runs a circle on the top of the pink and brown eggshell, cradling the little soul.
'It Boy' by Bbnomula plays on a small recorder, by the empty candle with a sweet smell of dead rose on the light pink wax.
I thought about the titles a lot, so proud of the outline. Wich i used millonote for.
