Special Episode 10 - Wishkeeper
Year 982
“Okay, okay, it’s okay!” Wishkeeper held his hands forward firmly, but the Sceptile in front of him was inconsolable. “Please, speak carefully, and from the beginning. What’s going on?”
“My daughter, my daughter, please!”
It was a whole scene inside a small village south of Quartz Mountain. A Sceptile, wailing desperately for help, only a few buildings away from the
actual place she was supposed to report problems. Instead, she’d seen Wishkeeper, who of course stood out from everyone else thanks to being taller than the buildings themselves.
“What in the world is going on?” called someone from a nearby home.
“Someone was kidnapped!”
“Kidnapped?”
“Bandits…”
Wishkeeper took in the context clues, but let Sceptile calm herself. She was old. Her scales were sagging and her leaves looked soft and withered. If she had to fight, perhaps she could, but she was nowhere near a state to assist in any rescues. If she offered, he would firmly refuse.
“Tell me everything and I’ll help.” Wishkeeper nodded.
Suddenly, Wishkeeper got a flash of something when he locked eyes with this old Sceptile. Images. He saw a little Treecko swinging a wooden sword strapped to her arm. Horrible stance. There was a Rhydon nearby, smiling cheerily. Then the images rapidly melted to an adolescent Grovyle, rolling her eyes and nodding. Exasperated about yet another question about her wellbeing. Then, a Sceptile, lithe but powerful, holding something over her shoulder. It looked like delivery supplies. Yes, she was a messenger.
This was a power granted to him by Necrozma to help with his Wishkeeping duties, but it had been recent. He still wasn’t that used to it… being able to read someone’s past that way. In some ways, it was overwhelming.
The images disappeared and Wishkeeper was staring at Sceptile again. No time had passed. In fact, she’d only just started talking. Details, details. A forest to the west, along the trail, was where her daughter—a Sceptile named Mhynt—had last been seen. She had disappeared a day ago, which made Wishkeeper’s stomach feel cold. A whole day. Anything could have happened to her.
Wishkeeper nodded and asked for some distance. He flew directly to the forest.
The trail was easy to see even from above, and once he landed, he saw what looked like signs of a struggle a quarter of the way along the known trail. He landed and checked. He nearly touched some of the ground, but then recalled the blessings he’d been granted by Necrozma and closed his eyes. The center of his back felt hot as he channeled energy from the mark placed there. His body was still young and acclimating to that power again, so it burned.
In moments, he knew the area around him completely. Buried rocks and stones, discarded berries, the network of roots, and all the abnormal gashes left in the trail to the left, along the wood. Gashes that perfectly matched a Leaf Blade. There were also patterns of puncture marks in the soil that matched a thrashing Sceptile’s tail. Accompanying the marks were other footprints and markings impossible for a Sceptile to make unconsciously.
Kidnapping. So, she had lost. He didn’t sense any thick liquids in the dirt or congealed mud, and it hadn’t rained recently. No blood had been spilled, or if it had, it wasn’t significant. Perhaps there was still time.
He followed the trail of destruction, noting that these struggles were getting weaker. They abruptly stopped, and that only meant there was a hidden passageway. He was starting to get a headache from keeping Perceive active for so long. He would have to take a break soon.
But he at least found a suspicious vine whose connections went beyond his normal vision. He suppressed his Perceive and sighed with relief as the pressure on his head and the burn on his back both subsided.
The secret entrance was an underground tunnel obscured by leaves and tree branches.
He was also too big.
Muttering a curse, he folded his wings and then crouched down, and he
barely fit through the entrance. This was going to be horribly claustrophobic, and his sheer bulk kept his natural flame from illuminating the way forward. Primal fear gnawed at him, but there was a Sceptile in need to rescue deeper inside. He couldn’t stop.
But only five steps inside and he stepped on a part of the ground that felt too solid, and yet gave way too much to his weight. Then came a click, and he realized he should have set his Perceive on anyway. Now, it was too late.
A strange, yellow powder filled his vision and he snorted to burn most of it away. Some of it clung to and between his scales, sinking into his blood next. His muscles were locking up, but he tensed and resisted most of it. He powered through, releasing the tile.
Then came a deluge of greenish powder, and he held his breath. That didn’t stop it from entering his scales the same way. He powered through again, hearing shuffling ahead.
“Hey!” spat a Gabite, crouching down with his claws forward. “What’re you doing in here? Who’re you working for?”
“I am here,” Wishkeeper said, realizing that his voice was more slurred than he wanted it to be, “to find Sceptile Mhynt and put an end to whatever bandit gang you have operating here, at once!”
“Hah! Good luck.” He slammed his claw into the dirt next to him and then ducked. Wishkeeper wasn’t sure why until a segment of the wall opened up. A vacuum sound followed, and then three poison-laced thorns whirled through the air.
Without a twitch, a golden barrier conjured itself in front of the Charizard, deflecting them. But several more came from other directions, and he couldn’t block them all. From other alcoves, nocturnal eyes reflected the dim light of his flame. This wasn’t a gang. This was a whole squadron!
<><><>
“In retrospect, your first mistake was entering without taking a break.”
I know, I know…
“Did you really enter hostile territory alone and unequipped?”
I got careless! Besides, I died all the time!
“Oh, don’t worry, I reprimanded him about it.”
Can we just move on?
<><><>
Wishkeeper stomped over a ground that was more Pokémon than dirt. Despite the fact that he’d defeated them all by his own flames, that fire was finite. He was bruised, cut, wounded, and dizzy. All kinds of toxins were flowing, and he briefly wondered if his blood was still the majority of what flowed through him.
But as he rounded the corner and saw a Sceptile standing at the entrance, looking battle-ready, he smiled with relief. That was easily her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, cautious and not lowering her stance. She was covered in small wounds herself. Had she been fighting off the bandits, too?
His orange flame reflected off of her eyes as he wobbled. He reached out, knowing that they’d all been defeated. “Come on,” he said, “let’s go. It’s safe.”
Her mouth was agape with surprise, then a flash of exasperation. She dug through a bag under her neck and produced a small sack of powder. “Idiot,” she muttered, tossing it at Wishkeeper. In his surprise, a single breath was all it took for him to fall asleep.
<><><>
Time passed in an instant, and he was on his back. His stirring brought about fearful shouts, but they were all quieted by a single, cutting voice above them all.
“Quiet!”
His vision returned in blurry shapes first, seeing mostly greens and yellows.
“Are you awake?” called a gentle voice.
“Sleepy…”
“Yes, you’re sleepy. What’s your name?”
“Mmggh, Wishkeeper Owen… Charizard, if you couldn’t tell…”
“That was unclear to me, thank you.”
“You’re welcome…”
“Wishkeeper? Did he say Wishkeeper?
The Wishkeeper? Oh, Gods, we’re in
divine trouble now!”
“I’m not ready for divine retribution!”
“If he beat us up already does that count?”
“Shh!” Mhynt snarled at them. “…I’m sorry if they gave you any trouble.”
“Muh?” He finally found the coordination to sit up. The ceiling nearly touched his horns.
Aside from Mhynt herself, they were all staring fearfully at him. Pokémon of all kinds, fur or feathers, scales or skin. All a little beaten up or burned. He slowly realized that those were burns from
him.
“They’re under me,” Mhynt explained. “I… put them in their place.”
“You what?”
Mhynt sighed and gave what felt like a very brief explanation. She was part of the town that Wishkeeper had been sent from as a messenger between two settlements. That was her official career. On the side, however, she led a team of enforcers that kept the traveling paths safe, and had recently caught wind of a gang of troublemakers who stole from unlucky travelers.
This strange Sceptile had intentionally gotten herself caught after having gauged their strength, and beat them all from within. She had tied up their leader and somehow asserted herself on all the underlings, and suddenly
she was their leader instead.
“All in one day?” Wishkeeper asked, incredulous.
“After some planning,” Mhynt clarified. “I want you to look at them closely, Wishkeeper. They are Pokémon who can hear the feral tongue. They tend to listen to strength and have trouble finding guidance on their own.”
“Listen to the…” Wishkeeper frowned. He, too, could hear those words, as could Ire, but he didn’t know what that had to do with anything. Their kind were rapidly assimilating into the rest of society, after all, generations upon generations until the two accents became one. It did make Wishkeeper feel lonely, his accent so strange in the current era, but times change.
“They aren’t at their best. I knew this after some study. So, please, they will be better now. Do you understand?”
“…You beat them all up?”
“Didn’t you?”
Wishkeeper blinked. “Yes, but, you know, I work under Necrozma.”
Mhynt nodded, then looked him over. “I suppose you do.” She was half his size. “Do you need anything?”
“I should be fine…” He finally staggered up. “I’ll send word to your mother that things are fine.”
“My mother? I had already sent word a while ago. Long before you’d arrived.” Her eyes trailed behind Wishkeeper, glaring at someone.
It was the Gabite from before, who hissed fearfully. “Y-yes! I sent a message, said… said that Mhynt was safe, and she would be home soon!” His smile was wide. Too wide. He was nervous.
“…To which town?”
“Eh… there are two?”
Wishkeeper couldn’t see Mhynt’s glare, but Gabite looked like he was staring at Yveltal herself.
“…It was nice meeting you, Owen,” Mhynt said, turning her head. “Perhaps we’ll meet again sometime.”
“Sure.” He grinned, and Mhynt flinched. “Oh, uh, something wrong?”
“You have a big smile.”
“Well, I have a big body.”
She opened her mouth, but was stopped by a small giggle. Then a sigh, and she ushered him along. Everyone else in the room looked completely dumbfounded and Wishkeeper didn’t know why.
<><><>
Year 984
Energy leaves collided with an ethereal spear. Wishkeeper snarled and pushed as hard as he could, beating his wings to knock her off her feet. But her claws were firmly in the dirt and her stance was unshakable, even with his weight thrown around. But she, too, was large.
“Something wrong?” Mhynt whispered, leaning into her advance. Wishkeeper’s hands were trembling.
“Not at all,” he grunted back, finding the strength to push her back. She kicked off of his gut at just the right moment, gaining several feet of ground before jumping off of a tree behind her. She collided with him again and Wishkeeper held a Protect shield out to parry, conjuring another javelin of light as a follow-up.
He pointed at Mhynt’s chin, but before he could declare a technical victory, the Sceptile weaved around the javelin and swung her blade at his neck. In turn, Wishkeeper conjured a small Protect directly in her path, parrying the blow. Flicking his wrist, he used the javelin’s side to pin Mhynt against the tree behind her.
“Ugh!” Mhynt tried to push against Wishkeeper, but he had gravity on his side, too. Owen pressed harder, immobilizing her shoulders.
“Give up?” Wishkeeper taunted.
Mhynt puffed again, going for one last push against the radiant javelin. Her own Leaf Blade was glowing with the same light and sparks licked at both their cheeks.
With one last roar, she pushed just enough to get some ground. Wishkeeper’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t react in time and was suddenly toppling backwards. Mhynt had gone too far and fell on top of him next, piling on and losing her stance. They both lost their focus and the radiance around their conjured weapons vanished instantly.
Wishkeeper was breathing hard. That had taken a lot out of him, and it wasn’t often that Mhynt was able to overpower him, even with the agreement to not abuse his elemental advantage. Mhynt was still on top of him and he couldn’t find a good way to get up without giving free hits to his opponent.
“Alright,” Wishkeeper grunted. “You win this one. Gonna get off me?”
She breathed with him, body still tense like she was ready to fight. But then, she relaxed, though she still did not rise. “Maybe I don’t want to.”
“Ng—” Wishkeeper gulped, feeling his scales get hotter. Mhynt was…
very close to his face. “What for?”
“Maybe I like being on top.”
“I thought you preferred being under my wings.”
“Depends on the mood.”
Wishkeeper’s tail flicked against the dirt, sending little embers into the air. “I must be a soft place to rest.”
“Your scales feel pretty hard right now.”
“I
am pretty solid.”
She leaned closer, then pressed her snout under his neck.
“I…
actually can’t get up,” Mhynt admitted. “Why don’t we stay like this for a while?”
“That worn out,” Wishkeeper remarked, “after just one round?”
“You came at me with everything you had that time,” Mhynt said. “I felt like I had to reciprocate.”
Wishkeeper sighed, bringing his neck back until the top of his head was on the ground. “I’m done, too. Exhausted. At least we’re finished at the same time.”
She practically sank into him. Wishkeeper’s wings crawled over her back in a warm embrace.
“…So…”
Mhynt abruptly rolled off of Wishkeeper at the sound of the new voice, rising to see Marshadow standing awkwardly with Azelf floating nearby. Azelf seemed bothered by something for an instant, but then smirked at Wishkeeper and Mhynt.
“M-Marshadow,” Mhynt said quickly, crossing her legs. Her shoulders were still slumped; she was quite weak. Wishkeeper, meanwhile, mentally chided himself for not sensing him coming. Had he been so exhausted he couldn’t even…
“Hi, Marsh,” Wishkeeper said, not sitting up. The world was upside-down. “Looking for Jirachi?”
“Nah. Just here to send a message from Necrozma.”
“He couldn’t send it himself?” Wishkeeper said, his scaly brow rising to the earth.
Marshadow shrugged. “He said that if y’want, Mhynt oughta consider climbing Destiny Tower.”
Wishkeeper squinted. “What?”
“Guess there’s an open position.”
“It’s been centuries. How? Did—” Wishkeeper suddenly tried to sit up, fighting the dizziness that came. “Did Arceus… actually, uh,
descend someone?”
“Nah, nah, nah.” Marshadow held up his hands. “We’d’ve heard about that. Dunno. Guess there’s need fer one. Maybe Groudon, finally, eh? Make the world bigger fer once.”
“We’d need a Kyogre, too,” Wishkeeper said.
“Well, regardless, I don’t intend to for some time,” Mhynt said, holding Wishkeeper’s hand. “Perhaps later. Much later.”
Wishkeeper glanced at Mhynt, tilting his head. “Why?”
“I think I’d like to spend more time with you,” Mhynt said.
“Being a Legend doesn’t usually change that. Look at me and Jirachi.”
Mhynt’s eyes narrowed the smallest amount. “Perhaps more quality time together.”
“Like sleeping together?” Wishkeeper said. “We do that all the time.”
Azelf, who had been quiet, looked like he’d just seen a Mimikyu’s true form.
“Owen…” Mhynt’s squint became even narrower. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Doing what on purpose?”
“Jeez’m.” Marshadow shook his head, shrugging. “You really know how ter pick’m, Mhynt. You sure that’s a life yer lookin’ fer?”
“It’s been years. I think it’s time I made my decision.” Mhynt nodded. “Owen. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Yeah, I do,” Wishkeeper replied, nodding sagely. “It’s alright. I’ll teach you everything you need to know if you want to ascend.”
“No, that—”
Wishkeeper’s wings wrapped around Mhynt, pulling her close. Firm. She was silenced instantly, eyes wide as they stared into his.
“We’ll need to spend a lot of time together, though.”
She blinked, staring at him.
“Think you’re alright with that?” He leaned forward and gave her a lick, then a nibble, and then a little growl.
For once, and only once, she was spellbound.
<><><>
Year 996
Wishkeeper and Mhynt had a single egg together, which hatched into a healthy baby girl. A Treecko, though her tail had a tinge of autumn scales to match Wishkeeper’s fiery orange. She was a little feral, wanting to fight mere days after hatching, and Wishkeeper humored her by letting her battle his claw and little else. He knew not to use his flames against her, and Mhynt didn’t seem at all worried until she started trying to wrestle with his tail.
His flame was ethereal, but if he was surprised, it could get hot like a real fire. But perhaps she had a little Fire in her anyway, because she lacked the instinct to fear it, and Wishkeeper was positive that even when she was burned, it bothered her little.
Years passed like days. Remi grew up from a delicate Treecko to a plucky fighter who wanted nothing more than to follow in her parents’ footsteps. Perhaps not work with the gods, but at least work for the people. Before Wishkeeper and Mhynt knew it, Remi was a Grovyle, training every day to fight and keep the peace of the ever-evolving world.
And just as quickly, Mhynt seemed to notice the first signs of her own aging. Unlike Wishkeeper, whose kind took long to waste away and burn, Mhynt’s kind showed signs early. It was, in some ways, convenient; the minor blemishes did not impede her, and showed experience to other Pokémon in ways that Wishkeeper could not. Her scales were a little darker, her leaves wilting faster with each cold season.
But that was the time Mhynt had agreed to make her ascent before that age caught up to her.
“You got this, Mom!” Remi cheered, standing with remarkable balance atop Wishkeeper’s head. The Grovyle did a flip off of Wishkeeper, falling thirteen feet to the ground and landing with grace. She did a few slashes in the air with a Leaf Blade, imitating Mhynt’s style with a more reckless flair that she’d developed.
Destiny Tower loomed ahead of them, with Mhynt standing at its entrance. She smiled at Wishkeeper, looking fully confident that she’d make it. And Wishkeeper knew she would, too.
That’s why he felt so nervous.
“GOOD LUCK!” Remi said, waving as she finally passed through the entrance, disappearing. “How long do you think she’s gonna take, Dad? A day? Two? The record was two days, right? She’ll do it in one.”
Wishkeeper forced himself to laugh, if only so she could be reassured. “I don’t know about a day, but after all this time and all this training? She’ll give the… record holders something to worry about.”
He stared for a while longer, flame crackling behind him as he ruminated over it all. The free slot a thousand years into the land’s age was suspicious, but what reason did Necrozma have to lie to them? Maybe it really was just a coincidence.
“Dad?” Remi tapped him on the forehead while sitting between his horns. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Wishkeeper nodded. “Let’s… go home for now.”
Remi shrugged and kicked off of Wishkeeper’s back. She twisted in the air, falling slowly, as transparent wings briefly formed around her back, resembling his own. With a brief updraft, she slashed at a branch, then slashed twice more to dice the wood, before landing gracefully on the ground.
“Let’s train when we go home!” she proposed. “I wanna practice Aerial Ace again!”
“Are you sure you aren’t already a master at it?” Wishkeeper glanced at the chopped wood. Remi pointed at the severed portion of the tree while her other hand touched the trunk. In seconds, the branch regrew.
“Maybe,” she said, “but I wanna get even better!” She conjured a prismatic Magical Leaf like pulling a card from a sleeve and tossed it at the branch again, expertly severing an apple from the leaves.
Wishkeeper caught it. “Well, sure,” he relented. Perhaps it would distract them both.
<><><>
“I’m going to be sick.”
“Personally, I think it’s adorable.”
Please…
I didn’t shirk my travel duties, but… yeah. I spent a lot of time with her. Maybe it was luck, or something, but, you know. When I had mentioned it to you, I figured you’d say that I should focus on my duties, and I guess I would have been fine with that, but instead…
“Instead, I suggested you see her more, yes… I did.”
Why?
“Well…”
Why, when right after that, you were going to…
“Perhaps that is precisely why. He was guilty.”
“Yes… to an extent. I no longer feared you making a family despite your reincarnation cycle because… this was going to be your last. For everyone. And I owed it to you at least that you could make a family in the end.”
…
“I’m sorry, Owen.”
It’s over with.
“He doesn’t accept your apology.”
Diyem…
“I understand. But I am sorry regardless. I understand that you have many happy memories of developing your relationship with Mhynt.”
I did.
“He doesn’t feel very happy about them now.”
Diyem… Don’t broadcast my feelings.
“I see. Very well.”
“Perhaps we should continue to after Mhynt became Lunala. Is that okay, Owen?”
Yeah. We’re getting close.
<><><>
Year 998
It was, in a way, a second honeymoon. Mhynt was now Lunala, and while she occasionally returned to her Sceptile form as a means to blend in like several other Legends did, her new sense of duty drew her back to that new, immortal form. What thrilled Remi the most, of course, were her wings.
They’d gone on evening flights, morning flights, even flights at noon, at least one flight a day. Even though she could have done so all the time with Wishkeeper, it was different when both of her parents were able to accompany her so easily. Now there were two pairs of wings in the sky, rather than just Wishkeeper’s and Mhynt on his back.
She bragged about it at first at school, because of course kids would. They were quick to tell her not to, as not only was this sort of arrangement unprecedented, but she would only endanger herself should less noble, perhaps stupid people catch wind of it. Being Wishkeeper’s child was notoriety enough—but the child of someone who ascended? Unheard of.
That thought bothered Wishkeeper at night. Why, after almost a thousand years, did Necrozma and the other gods relax their policy? It had been, for a fleeting fifteen years, almost relaxing to no longer have that lingering sense of obligation to ascend. Really, Owen had almost considered broaching the subject of retiring to Jirachi. Wishkeeper did not have perfectly clear memories of all his lives, but it was starting to feel like a lot. A staggering amount that he could no longer fathom.
He never had the heart to, though. And Wishkeeper wondered if he’d forgotten about all the other times he’d been on the fence about it.
But then he had Remi, at Necrozma’s approval. Was that his hint that perhaps he could remove his spirit fragment from the Reincarnation Machine? That he could become mortal, and there would be no hard feelings over it?
“Owen,” hummed Lunala, pulling him a little closer. “You have such a serious face.”
“Sorry,” Wishkeeper murmured, but he forgot to follow it up with a smile, or anything, really.
“What’s bothering you?”
“Well, just… Why do you think Necrozma let us have Remi?”
“That’s an odd way to phrase it.” Lunala loosened and shifted upward until she was in something like a sitting position. It was hard to tell with the new body, which still, admittedly, was not something Wishkeeper was used to. “I feel like we could have done just what we wanted.”
“It’s… a thing to do with ascent. Necrozma always wanted me to because I fit all the qualifications, or something. Never did. Maybe he thinks it’s some kind of challenge.” Wishkeeper sighed, leaning into her chest as he thought. “But now I think he’s finally accepted that maybe I just wanted to be mortal. Instead of all the reincarnation stuff…”
“Why did you, then?” Lunala asked, adjusting so her wings went behind Wishkeeper. He reciprocated, curling up. This night, he was the one being wrapped up.
“I don’t really know anymore,” Wishkeeper admitted. “It just… was something I decided to do. And kept deciding once the cycle started. It wasn’t really so bad. I liked being around everyone. They were my friends.” And while he didn’t like to mention it often, he’d thought of a few of them as something more, but had never asked it of them. Then, once ascent happened to each of them over time, it was no longer an option. They had become bonded instead to their duty.
It was a relief that Lunala hadn’t changed in that way, even if she still preferred the new form.
“I… I’m sorry if that isn’t what you wanted to hear,” Wishkeeper said. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling strange lately. Having Remi, and you, it’s… it’s been different. Like… loosening something from the bottom of a lake, or something. Everything is moving again. It feels like these fifteen years have been more than I’d lived for the past centuries. I—I know it’s because it’s
different, so that’s why I see it that way, but. It’s better, too.”
As Wishkeeper spoke, Lunala gently ran part of her wing over his head, stroking him. That always relaxed Wishkeeper, and he leaned a little more against her.
“You should do what you want, Owen.” She nodded. “I appreciate what you’re doing. But it will be okay… I’m sure of it.”
“That obvious, was it?” Wishkeeper smiled sadly, keeping his eyes closed as he focused on their breathing.
“You know,” Lunala said, and Wishkeeper could hear the grin in her voice, “it still isn’t too late.”
“Too late…” Wishkeeper opened one eye.
“You can still become Solgaleo. We’re meant to be pairs. Lunala and Solgaleo… We can still be the same, just like we are now.”
The thought only filled him with more conflict as he shifted his weight. “Maybe,” he dismissed. “But I’m… I’m tired for now. We can talk about it later.”
She nuzzled his cheek. “Okay. Good night.”
“Night. Love you.”
She nipped his cheek, and they settled again.
But in the end, Wishkeeper was never the one to bring it up.
<><><>
Year 999
With an ethereal clang, sharpened blades of Grass energy slammed into a golden Protect. Wishkeeper pushed forward a little harder than he normally would, and the Grovyle he sparred against yelped in surprise, her back slamming into and then through a tree, leaving a Remi-shaped hole where she’d hit.
“Oww, no fair!” Remi complained, having left a gash in the dirt behind the tree. She sat up, looking dizzy, as she pointed at the tree. Her hand glowed with energy as the trunk sealed itself up, slowly.
“Err, too hard?” Wishkeeper said, tittering.
“I’m not Mom, you know! Parry like a normal Pokémon!”
“Eheh…” Wishkeeper dispelled his Protect and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, I guess I—” He abruptly spun around and conjured another shield, narrowly blocking a stab to his side. Another Grovyle was right there, eyes wide. “Nice try,” he whispered.
The other Grovyle disappeared in a puff of golden smoke.
“Oh, come on!” the real Remi complained. “That was
perfect!”
“Maybe,” Wishkeeper said, “but I guess I got lucky.” Or he knew her tricks. Still, that was one of her best Substitutes yet, and so young, too… She had talent. His chest swelled with pride.
She kicked a little more before finally settling down. Wishkeeper silently noted her movements; she was worn out.
“How about we take a break?” he offered. “I’m feeling a little tired after that.”
“Fine, fine,” she said with a dismissive wave. “What’s for lunch?”
Lunala was off on some mission, leaving Wishkeeper with Remi again, as was the norm most of the time. It was, once again, a nice change of pace to spend most of his time at home. He and Remi enjoyed a small prepared lunch of rice and meats, apparently a
bento from recovered cultural projects. Something about it felt familiar, but Wishkeeper ignored the feeling. It was probably from some faded life in his many reincarnations.
Remi seemed a little tenser than usual. She wanted to say something, but Wishkeeper waited patiently. She finally broached the subject when there was only a little rice left in their ceramic platters.
“Mom told me something kinda cool yesterday.”
But despite her words, there was hesitance in her tone.
“Cool?” he asked. It was also an odd descriptor. “What d’you mean?”
“Do you know what Cosmog is?” she asked.
It was like all the air in the clearing had been sucked out. A chill ran down his spine and he suddenly knew precisely where every beat of the conversation would go. He hoped Remi did not see his darkening mood in his expression.
Thankfully, she was looking at her near-finished lunch. “It’s a rare sort of Pokémon that’s considered ascended but not fully formed. A Legend that can evolve. Usually, the ones that are female become Lunala, and the ones that are male become Solgaleo. In that way, there can be more than one. They’re like guardians of the stars, of light itself. Guardians of the spirit.”
“Yeah, that’s correct, Remi,” Wishkeeper said in as even a tone as he could. “How come she told you about all that, anyway? It’s not really important to, you know, daily life. It’d just distract you from school.”
Remi smiled a little. “Well, it’s because she wanted me to climb the tower a little early.”
“Oh.” His mask slipped just then and he quickly amended, “That’s great! I mean, if that’s what you want, and—”
“Dad, why did you never ascend? Mom says you could any time you wanted. So, you don’t want to…”
This was more of a corner than Remi had ever put him in battle.
“Do you want to become… Cosmog?” Wishkeeper asked.
But then, suddenly, Wishkeeper sensed Lunala’s presence and glanced above him. Moments later, the light around the clouds warped oddly, and Lunala burst out from seemingly nowhere, like a pool of water in thin air. She descended quickly, fanning out her wings to slow her descent.
“Back early,” Lunala replied, pecking Wishkeeper on the cheek. “How was lunch?”
“Just finished,” Wishkeeper said, nipping at Lunala’s wing before nodding at Remi.
Remi, however, had gone quiet, and was now looking at the ground.
“Remi?” Lunala asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, um.” She hesitated. “It’s about… Cosmog.”
“Oh, of course. Have you come to a decision?”
“A bit of a rush, don’t you think?” Wishkeeper asked Lunala warily.
“I—I don’t think I want to,” Remi said quickly. “Dad didn’t ascend because he wanted a family. And… and I want one, too.”
Wishkeeper blinked, but then glanced at Lunala just in time to see the smallest hint of a scowl on her face. It was faint, and gone in an instant, but he’d seen it. That image chilled him to his core.
“Oh,” Lunala said, “well, that’s… fine. I understand, Remi… And you’re still quite young anyway. It isn’t as if there is a rush for it.”
“Yeah. Sorry, Mom…”
“No, don’t be sorry. It’s your decision. Climbing Destiny Tower halfheartedly will surely result in being rejected.” She nodded.
She leaned down and rubbed her on the head, and Remi smiled a little, looking relieved.
But Wishkeeper couldn’t forget that look in Lunala’s eyes. It was still there like a cold lump of ice in his chest. Like all of his quiet fears had been confirmed just then, for an instant, a little seed of doubt. That he was no longer with Mhynt. That it was “Lunala,” and nobody else.
No. No, that wasn’t true. It was still Mhynt, just like Jirachi was still Tim, or… everyone else who’d ascended but him.
They were still themselves.
<><><>
“Owen… They truly were themselves.”
I don’t want to talk about that right now.
“When they ascend, they are not the same. Their minds are altered to handle their longer lifespans, and to have tendencies related to their duties. You would not simply place a mortal spirit into the duties of a god and expect them to perform as they would. In the end, even gods have… instincts.”
“Indeed. And so, the decisions they made were… with their duties in mind, but not without their memories as well, and—”
Can we just move on?
“…Of course, Owen. Let us move on to… the decision I made, when I called Jirachi and you to Destiny Tower.”
<><><>
Year 1000
“I’m not doing that.” Jirachi shook his head. “It goes against my very duties. Did Arceus approve of this? I bet he didn’t.”
“Arceus is not the authority here,” Necrozma said firmly, his light reflecting off of the countless gems in the cobalt caverns of Star Cave.
“You know as well as I do that there is an instability in this world, and we can’t find it. Before something even worse than death happens, we need to end it.”
“Why can’t we find it?”
“Finding it is not so easy. If we weren’t aware of it when it was created, it simply isn’t… something to detect. It’s better just to end the world entirely. We’ve gone on for long enough. The world has gone on for long enough. I fulfilled my promise to Arceus and Mew. It has been a thousand years. Civilizations have risen and fallen, leaderships transferred, kingdoms made and lost…”
They continued to bicker. Meanwhile, Wishkeeper stood in awe. He had gone through so many reincarnation cycles that he was not clear how long it had truly been. Each cycle, he forgot swaths of his past, and when he recovered them, they were hazy and blurred together. He did not have a mind that could withstand long, long stretches of time the way Jirachi had been blessed with one. His mind was simply unable to hold it all together. When Necrozma and Jirachi got into these talks, he often tuned it out.
This time, though, he held his attention. He tried to follow every term thrown out. He eventually caught on when Jirachi made another proposal.
“I’m not ending it. The world needs time. It’s… I don’t want to just end it where the sun won’t rise again tomorrow.”
“It will have to stop eventually. And then all can be at rest and all can be still. This was an inevitability. Only when it is upon you do you object?”
“Yes?!” Jirachi said. “I thought you’d come around, not actually follow through! How many zeroes are in the number of lives at stake here?! You’re just going to take everyone here, store them up in your… prism of death body, and that’s it?”
“That is where all life goes in death, yes. They will die, but they will no longer suffer after. They will be still. At rest. I could ask the same thing if you wish to plunge these souls into a chaotic world when the instability prevails.”
“And how instantly will that happen, huh? Will we see it coming?”
“It could happen in a matter of years as soon as we see the first true signs. If that happens, it must be ended immediately.”
Jirachi shifted his weight, looking conflicted. Wishkeeper understood some of it. Jirachi’s duty was to protect the world, and sometimes the greater good meant sacrifices. Some wishes had downsides, but for a greater end. But this was taking it a step too far, wasn’t it? Killing everything to save it from a worse fate? A fate they did not even fully understand?
“Is there another way to… quietly let everyone wrap things up?” Jirachi asked. “That’s what I want.”
“A way for the world to end without killing everyone,” Necrozma repeated.
“Well. I suppose one way to go about that would be… taking advantage of the mortality of the world. If no new lives are born, eventually the current lives will be all that’s left. Then, nothing. A quiet end…”
Necrozma had come up with that too quickly. Had he predicted this?
But Jirachi was buying it. “That might be okay,” he said, apprehensive.
“Okay?” Wishkeeper protested. “But that would still—”
“Owen, I… I’m sorry. But I do still need to protect people here. And this seems like a good solution. You don’t understand, Owen, we
can feel that instability growing. I don’t want to kill people. But preventing new people from being born might be okay. If it gets too large, it might become something that has its own domain. And if it does, we can’t fight it or dispel it. It might take over. It might even hold spirits hostage within itself. Then what?”
“There is already a risk of that happening. But… this will minimize that risk. I’ll revise my wish, then. My wish… is for no new souls to be born within Quartz. No children. All eggs formed now will be the last generation. And then, as the population dwindles, it will be our responsibility as gods to guide everyone in their final years. It will be our payment to them.”
A noble way, Wishkeeper thought bitterly, for them to pretty up the fact that they were about to make a whole era suffer. He thought about Remi. If he’d delayed, he never would have had her. She never would have existed.
But Wishkeeper felt unheard. No matter what he said, this was a decision for the
gods to make, not him. And perhaps even if he’d chosen to become Solgaleo, or Reshiram like Brandon had, there was nothing he could do. It was not his domain.
Wishkeeper gave Jirachi one last, pleading look. But as silver lights began to encircle Jirachi’s head, and as the whole cave lit up with silver and blue, Wishkeeper knew that it was too late.
“Wish granted,” Jirachi whispered. And with the power of Necrozma and Jirachi combined, a great pulse of light escaped from Star Cave and sank deep, deep into the earth. Unshakably, the wish had been granted. And now, the only way to undo it would be with an equal power.
In that solemn silence, as the lights blinded them all, Wishkeeper whispered for only himself to hear. He kept away from the one he’d once looked up to so much. He turned away from the one he’d been with all his lives.
He had Jirachi’s power, too. And Star Cave was still resonating.
For the first time, Wishkeeper decided to slip in a wish for himself. It was forbidden. He didn’t know if it would work. But that didn’t matter anymore.
I wish I could find this instability myself.
<><><>
“So that’s
what you did…”
I don’t think it actually worked. I don’t think granting my own wishes is possible. Maybe it was from Jirachi, and we felt the same wish? That could have been it…
“Or perhaps it was my own. Perhaps all three of us wished there was another way.”
Sure. But… Diyem. Do you remember any of that?
“I only know that, not long after that wish was made… we met in a dream during your travels. When you were spreading the news about what had happened, along with so many other Legends.”
“This is where, for now, my part of the story ends, Owen. I was not aware of much of what you had been doing in the interim. I will explain what happened, but… go on, Diyem. Now it is your turn.”
“…I’m not going to enjoy this.”
I thought you were waiting for this?
“I was. Now I’m regretting it. Whatever. Let’s begin.”
<><><>
Year 1003
Wishkeeper often dreamed. It had become an acquired skill, being able to dream lucidly like the gods often did. They used it to communicate with one another at night. Rayquaza and Dialga often doted over each other; Kyurem had even found a way to communicate with Ire; but Wishkeeper didn’t feel like playing with Tim tonight. In fact, he felt as if he didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t in his usual corner of the mind. He felt distant. Elsewhere. And… cold.
“Hello?” Wishkeeper called. “Who’s there?”
He heard no words, only a horrible, cold wave of dust that buffeted him. He winced and pulled his wings over his head. His flame flickered against that haze.
“Is anyone there?” he called again.
Another haze, but this time he saw something faintly red beyond it. In the otherwise void-like surroundings, it was the only thing he could walk toward.
“I’m here to help!” Wishkeeper called blindly. It felt like his voice didn’t carry past a few feet ahead of him, so he roared louder. “I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU!”
The winds continued, but they slowed. He eventually dared to open his wings. His flame was stable. And, in front of him, there was a great, red sphere. Wishkeeper felt like it was staring back at him.
“I—”
Wishkeeper had tried to reach forward, but then it roared back in a noise irreplicable by anything mortal. A scream that was more like glass grinding against stone and metal. It blasted him away at speeds that felt like hundreds of feet in a second.
He woke up with a start.
“Owen?” someone whispered.
“Wh-what?” Wishkeeper sat up, panting. His flame was bright; it must have woken her up. And it was humming loudly, too. He glanced worriedly around him, hoping that latent battleheart didn’t set anything alight, too. No burns, thankfully.
“I’m okay,” he said. “Just had a startling dream. That’s all.”
Crescent wings draped over him in a nuzzle. Wishkeeper leaned into them, but he couldn’t feel that same warmth in his chest when they touched.
“It’s going to be okay, hun.”
They sounded genuine from her, but felt empty to him. Wishkeeper’s eyes trailed across their room. It was a small and simple abode with oversized furniture to compensate for Wishkeeper’s size. It dwarfed Remi, who had been sleeping across the hall soundly. The little Grovyle hadn’t stirred. Remi… What would become of her?
“It’s for the greater good,” Lunala said, correctly guessing his thoughts. “I’m really sorry, Owen…”
He didn’t want to fight her on this. Not her. Not when he could either find a different solution or let it happen. In neither case did they need to fight about it.
“Are you okay?” Lunala asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” He leaned against her, appreciating the cool, smooth touch her wings provided. He tried to remind himself that it was her. “…Love you, Mhynt.”
She always humored him, even though she no longer acknowledged the name. “Love you too, Owen.”
He drifted off again. Perhaps, when he had a better grasp of what he’d seen in his dreams, he would be able to tell her more.
Somehow, Wishkeeper knew he never would.
<><><>
…Don’t feel sick this time, Diyem?
“No, the heartbreak evens it out.”
“Mhynt didn’t so much as read your mind with how much she trusted you.”
I don’t want to think about that…
“You must. It is likely why she felt so betrayed when you learned more about Diyem. Night after night, you tried talking to him. For how long?”
Years. It was a slow, slow process. I usually could only get a word in, but eventually, he answered, and… we talked. The same way Anam talked with you, I bet.
“And you told someone else before you told Mhynt, didn’t you?”
“What?”
I… I don’t…
“He could not trust his own mate. And Jirachi was all the same, loyal to Arceus. But there was a single other that you trusted. And in a moment of weakness…”
That was the start… of when I took more drastic actions. When I started betraying everyone’s trust. I remember, now…
<><><>
Year 1004
Wishkeeper parried another Psychic blast, sensing it from the distortions in the air rather than the energy itself. Sensing the air was difficult, but such dramatic changes made it easier.
Ahead of him was Azelf, a larger target compared to Mesprit and Uxie thanks to Necrozma’s blessings, but that meant little when he moved around so swiftly.
“Better get ready!” Azelf telegraphed, forming a Psychic blast for Wishkeeper to quickly deflect. With a flick of his claws, flames erupted from below and Azelf yelped in surprise. Moments later, he spiraled to the ground, looking only slightly singed, but that had been the wager.
“Gah, no fair!” Azelf flailed on the ground before going limp. “Feh… got lucky.”
“At some point, my
luck is going to be a
pattern,” Wishkeeper taunted, sitting next to him. The tremor knocked Azelf off balance the moment he tried to sit up.
“Yeh did that one on purpose,” he growled.
Wishkeeper shrugged innocently.
With a flick of his wrist, Wishkeeper drew out from seemingly nowhere two boxed lunches, sliding the smaller one to Azelf.
“Eh?” Azelf tilted his head. “Usually Lunala drops one off fer yeh so it’s fresher.”
“Oh, I made one myself this time. Lunala’s been busy.”
“Mmeh…” Azelf narrowed his eyes.
The silence felt more tense than usual. Azelf could probably tell, couldn’t he?
“So… still arguin’ about…” Azelf trailed off.
It was such an awkward subject to explore, but… “Yes,” Wishkeeper said with a sigh. “I… I still haven’t told Remi. I don’t know what to tell her. And… if I tell her, and she ascends, would that be… tossing her life away anyway?”
“Tossin’ it away? Ain’t it gonna make ‘er immortal? Well… not like it’ll matter…”
Wishkeeper paused. Not like it would matter…
“…Why… did Mhynt ascend?”
Azelf tilted his head.
Wishkeeper groaned. “Lunala.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. Hey, wait! Yer right? If the world’s endin’, why’d he go an’ have her show up? An’ then offer fer Remi ter ascend next… oi, that don’t make sense at all!”
A new seed of doubt began to form, wondering what Necrozma’s ulterior motives were for that. Was it all to attract him into his fold? But
why?
“Owen,” Azelf said, breaking Owen’s concentration. “Jus’ tell me what’s up. We’re a team. Yeah?”
They were. And… Wishkeeper couldn’t sense anything strange from Azelf, either. Not that he would delve deeper. Maybe he could trust him with this, just once…
“You can’t tell anyone about this,” Owen said.
“What about Mesprit ‘n Uxie?”
He hesitated. More people to know, more chances for the secret to spill. But if he told Azelf to keep quiet… No. Uxie would tell; she was too smart. And Mesprit would sense the emotional distress.
“Fine, you can tell them, too,” Wishkeeper said. “Listen, I… I spoke with it. The instability.”
Azelf’s eyes widened a little, but he didn’t interrupt. He urged him, silently, to continue.
“I think we can save this world, if we just save him, too.”
<><><>
I was eventually able to get words from you. And I gave you my name. And eventually, we figured out what you were. The instability. A poor little… entity that was born from… Y-yes. I remember now. You were the fear and doubt… that Star had when she created the world. And the hatred and betrayal that Barky felt. Those stray thoughts… became you! And… I proposed trying to convince all three gods to help you, and you weren’t sure. I wasn’t sure, either. So instead, we tried to fight and rally for undoing the apocalypse. There were already resistances forming for it, even if there was no real way to stop it… Not without power.
“Power I had.”
“There was a turning point eventually, wasn’t there? Tell us about that.”
<><><>
Year 1007
“Hey. I’m here,” Wishkeeper called routinely, flicking his tail across the landscape to form a simple, nighttime hillside. The instability, who refused a name of any kind, preferred the night. Sometimes Wishkeeper had a feeling he also did not like his flame or his golden spirit, but there was little he could do about either.
“Today… hurt less…”
“That’s good.”
“Good?”
He winced. Right, he couldn’t feel that. He didn’t
know that. Wishkeeper sighed. “Sorry. Anyway, I heard that there’s a lot of outrage over… uh, you know, and that it’s still growing, but that’s not going to amount to anything. Even if they try to scale it, or destroy it, or anything. It isn’t even an actual
tower. It’s just a gateway to the ethereal plane… Destroying it won’t do much. If we want to stop this, we have to convince them that you’re safe.”
“I’m… not. They hate me… They want me gone…”
“If they find you, you’ll—”
“No. No. No.”
“Okay, okay!” Wishkeeper held up his hands. The quickly churning winds slowed.
It had been a decade. He was getting older. And if he wasn’t going to go through a reincarnation cycle, he would actually die. He’d return to Necrozma. And then… Necrozma would be able to see all of his memories. He’d be helpless. All that knowledge… Necrozma would destroy the instability, and then the world next.
It just wasn’t fair. He couldn’t trust Necrozma anymore, but it was getting dicey, always evading the subject with Necrozma. Thank goodness he assumed it was only because he was unhappy with the circumstances.
“…I agree,” the instability said.
“You’re out of time soon. If you die…”
“You heard all that, huh?” Wishkeeper sighed. “Yeah… I’m getting old again. It’s starting to catch up to me. It’s hard for me to do the things I used to, but only a little. But I really am out of ideas, and I think I’m getting complacent.”
“If you reveal me… I’ll die. But not if…”
“Not if… they can’t kill you. If you’re strong enough to subdue them, right? Then we can work together to fix you instead.”
“Fix… me…”
“Sorry. You aren’t… broken. But we can help you stop feeling pain, right? And you won’t die. Nobody has to die. There will be a lot to repair, but it’s not all gone. But…” That just led to one uncomfortable question. “My power is a gift from Necrozma, and he’s pretty adamant about… you know. And he’s not the only god here. He seems to have, you know, the most sway. How are we supposed to convince all three? Or to any of them?”
“…I… have power, too.”
“What do you mean?” Wishkeeper asked. “You have…”
A dark haze drifted toward Wishkeeper and he held out his hand on reflex, like the instability was reaching toward him again. A rare thing.
“Take this…”
<><><>
That very night, Wishkeeper woke up because he thought he’d heard sobbing. He opened his eyes, but did not move from his spot. He listened quietly, only to hear Lunala soothing Remi with kind words and gentle nothings.
“Remi, it’s okay,” she said softly.
It was a strange sense of normalcy to be comforting their daughter over something so mundane—a breakup. Such things happened. But the backdrop reawakened that cold pit in Wishkeeper’s stomach all the same.
She had moved back in after sending word, and Wishkeeper and Lunala gave her no shame over it. It would be nice to spend time with her during the end-times, after all. They’d been there to support her, and he figured she was still heartbroken. But when he listened longer…
“Remi, it’s… just how things are. How it was meant to be,” Lunala said softly.
“I wanted a family,” Remi sobbed.
An awkward, tense silence broken only by her sniffles followed. Wishkeeper tried his best to suppress the popping of his flames.
“He wanted a family, a-and… and because nobody can anymore, he… c-couldn’t take it and… just left me…”
“Remi, no, it really isn’t your fault… I’m sure it’s not that clear cut.”
“Everyone’s
scared, Mom. I… I’m scared. Is it all just going to end? Is the world really… emptying out? I don’t… I don’t want that!”
“Remi…” They shuffled. Wishkeeper could sense how much Remi was trembling, all that frustration and pain, while Lunala only pulled her close for a hug. Wishkeeper didn’t know if Lunala truly cared or not, or if she was just echoing her dutiful statements as part of Necrozma’s goals. None of her words felt real anymore. Wishkeeper wondered if Remi felt the same.
As they continued to talk, Wishkeeper finally came to a decision. A dramatic one. And he had a strange feeling that if he lost his resolve now… he may never get the chance again.
When the time came, and he found the opportunity to slip away… he would start the fight against Necrozma. He would reverse the wish and save the world. And the first step to doing that… was defeating him any way he could.
Perhaps this “instability” they feared so badly would be the answer.
<><><>
It was another lunch out while Lunala left for her usual duties, some of which Wishkeeper still did not fully understand. The Charizard and Grovyle spent another afternoon out as father and daughter.
But Wishkeeper felt tenser than usual, the night several days ago weighing heavily on his mind.
“Dad?” Remi asked.
“Oh, uh—hi. Yeah. It’s good as usual, Remi. Your mother cooked it herself.”
“I thought you cooked this one?” Remi asked. “You use different spices.”
“Oh.” Right. He had.
An awkward silence followed. Wishkeeper took a few extra bites.
“Are you going to fight Necrozma?” Remi asked.
A cold chill ran down the back of his head, like his horns were being gripped by ice. “What?” he mumbled. “I—no, that’s…”
“…Are you going to convince him to stop destroying the world?”
“He’s not… destroying it, he’s… just not letting new Pokémon be born. It’s… different. It’s different.”
The Grovyle’s frown deepened, and she curled her claws around her sandwich, prodding at the soft bread beneath the hard crust.
“Are you going away?” Remi asked.
“Remi, what’s this all—”
“Please just tell me,” Remi said. “I’m not a kid anymore, Dad. Just… just tell me.”
Any number of things could have clued her in. She was too perceptive for her own good. Probably took after him. And he knew, without having to check, that she wasn’t doing this to deceive him. She simply wouldn’t.
She was looking down, unable to maintain any sort of eye contact. “Are you going to fight Mom?”
“Remi…” His wings struggled to stay folded by his side. They wanted to droop. But he had to keep a strong face in front of her. Otherwise… everything was going to collapse. Her whole world would.
But wasn’t the world already…?
“You have a plan, don’t you?” Remi asked. “You’re going to go against everyone just to save the world. Because you refused to become a Legend. You’re… fighting for mortals because all the strongest aren’t. Except for you.”
“I never… saw it that way. I just…”
The bread in her claws crunched quietly. “I… I don’t know what to do, Dad. I don’t know who’s right. Mom… says everything would be fine. B-but I’m scared to ascend. Why didn’t you?”
He didn’t have an answer for her. All of his words had left his mind. Listening to her was all he had left.
“I don’t know what to do, but… but you need to stick to it. Okay? If you and Mom are on opposite sides, then… then maybe it’ll work out. Maybe the right side will win and everything will be okay. Right? You can fix it, right? Dad?”
To this, too, he had no answer. He was still stuck on how she’d figured this all out. So clever… Had it not been such a dire subject, he would have been filled with pride. But now all he could feel was a bitter lump in his gut.
“Go,” Remi whispered.
“What?”
“Go now. Mom’s got a long day. She told me. Just… go now. Whatever plan you have. B-but… but promise me—”
She paused and he didn’t interrupt. She was shaking, trembling.
“Promise me you won’t kill anybody.”
A summer breeze kicked up loose blades of grass. Wishkeeper breathed with the wind, unfolding his wings; his natural warmth carried on to Remi, and he draped them over her.
“Of course,” he said. “I promise.”
<><><>
“Not long after that, when agreeing to use my power fully, you told me Remi’s wish. I did not understand it… but those were your conditions. You were adamant. So, I had no choice but to comply. I knew you did not make allegiances and did not force you there, either. I never felt any deception from you, or distrust. I eventually learned that it was because you were not truly native to this world… and that Necrozma’s blessings further masked your feelings. But at the time, I had no reason to doubt you.”
And I used that power as a way to catch Necrozma by surprise. Or, that was the plan… Necrozma. How come you didn’t just try to attack me immediately? The moment you knew, for example, that I… betrayed you?
“I simply didn’t know until it was too late. And once I learned… Mew and Arceus were not fully onboard with ending the world. I think, in a way, my forcefulness on the matter discouraged them. They wanted this world to remain. I tried
to overrule them, then convince them, but…”
“I played my part as well.”
“Oh?”
“Doubt is a powerful emotion to anchor myself. I sensed the gods’ doubt and amplified it subtly. It was one of the powers I learned I had over the world, along with other destabilizing abilities.”
“Destabilizing abilities… ways to cause chaos?”
“In a sense. Curses with the power I had acquired. Rifts in the fabric of the world. Not quite Dungeons, but distortions that, if done right, could have drawn out the gods for me to strike on my own. None worked, though. Most of them were… aimless. I did not know what I was doing.”
“…Manny’s assignments. He often thwarted you. Him and his team, while the rest of the pantheon maintained the world’s turn.”
“Indeed. Like I said… a true thorn in my side.”
Manny…
“He tried to play both sides, in a way. But I appreciated that of him.”
I remember. He kept trying to challenge me with his resurrected team, but I beat him. Sent him away, and once he saw that I knew mercy, well… He sent word to meet me one on one.
“Obviously, you were stronger. You took the offer.”
<><><>
Year 1018
Wishkeeper walked, alone, up a large hill with a note in his hand. It was extra-large paper, of course, which meant whoever had sent it certainly had him specifically in mind. The big print was a nice touch.
He’d brought backup. Hiding away and watching from afar with farsighted Pokémon were Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf, his closest allies during this struggle. But Wishkeeper honored this one request to meet alone with someone of similar strength. Weaker, but better able to flee.
Even this had been calculated. Wishkeeper wasn’t sure what they wanted to accomplish out of it this time, and he could not sense anything in the immediate area that was a trap. Only Marshadow standing at the top, and a large board game next to him, already folded out and set up.
“Hey, y’made it,” Marshadow greeted, smirking. “Got yer favorite.”
“You’re no good at chess.”
“T’keep it fair, you get five seconds fer yer move, an’ I c’n take all the time I want.”
“Sounds unfair for you,” Wishkeeper mocked once he was on the opposite side of the board, slowly taking a seat. Marshadow did the same. “You first, then.”
“Heh.” Marshadow moved a center pawn forward two spaces.
Within a second, Wishkeeper mirrored the move. “So,” he said, “you wanted this talk for…”
“Just talkin’ similarities,” Marshadow said.
“Between us,” Wishkeeper clarified.
“Yeh.” He moved another piece, and Wishkeeper responded instantly. Marshadow smirked, murmuring a curse. “Y’see,” he went on, not making his next move yet, “we both were put in our positions ter save th’ world.”
“I put myself in that position,” Wishkeeper clarified, “but yes.”
Marshadow nodded. “So we both have an interest in savin’ the world.”
“Yet you’re siding with the person who intends to put an end to this world.” Wishkeeper stared hard at Marshadow as his next move was made, using yet another pawn. Wishkeeper moved aggressively, countering with a knight’s advance. “Necrozma intends to destroy the world and take all of the spirits for himself. The prism of death, where we shall go until the end of everything.”
“So
dramatic,” Marshadow chided, sighing. “Death is death. All he’s doin’ is holdin’ onter our souls ‘til it’s time fer whatever comes after, all at once. Won’t even feel like a second ter us.” Marshadow raised a hand before Wishkeeper could protest. “I know, that ain’t the point. Since it’s the world yer worried about. New life, yer home, not yer self. If it meant savin’ the world, you’d choose death, too, eh?”
“I would,” Wishkeeper said. “I’ve lived long enough. If I could guarantee this world’s safety in exchange for my overdue life, I would give it up instantly.”
“Heh. I believe ya.” Marshadow moved yet another pawn, and Wishkeeper touched his knight, but then froze. Too aggressive. He wanted to capture the pawn on reflex, but that would…
“Once yeh touch a piece, y’can’t let go. That’s the rule, ain’t it?”
Wishkeeper growled and took a more conservative movement, just outside the pawn’s range.
“Good save, good save.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“Lighten up!” Marshadow laughed, raising both hands again. “Look, I know yer workin’ fer someone with spooky Shadow powers, but this ain’t you, all that intensity. Where’s that light in yer eyes, eh? Those cute feral chirps yeh always make.”
He hated those. But what he hated more was how intensely he listened to what Marshadow was saying, if only so he could find a way to deny it.
But he couldn’t find a way to do it.
“It’s difficult to be lighthearted in the face of oblivion,” Wishkeeper said.
“Heh. Nah. That ain’t it.” Marshadow shook his head. “You were ready ter face ‘oblivion’ a thousand years ago. All this seriousness… is b’cause yer friends’re all on the opposite side, now. Yer mate. Yer kid. An’ all yer mentors.”
“I have Azelf and the others,” Wishkeeper said. “He’s… he’s been wonderful to me ever since I left Mhynt.”
Marshadow tilted his head.
“Lunala.”
“Right, right. So y’two hit it off, eh?”
“Apparently, he’s felt that way for a long time, but wanted to respect Mhynt. And before then, of course, he was duty-bound. Now that he’s rejected Necrozma’s rule… he is not bound the same way you are.”
“Hah!” Marshadow shook a finger at Wishkeeper. “Y’ferget that Star summoned me.”
“…Star. Right. Mew.”
“An’ she’s a real free spirit. She believes in th’world, too, y’know.”
Marshadow made his move. Wishkeeper countered it with a proper capture this time, and Marshadow sighed, as if he’d expected to miss something.
“You know I can’t give up now,” Wishkeeper said. “I need to save this world and… the one person who needs saving the most.”
“The instability,” Marshadow clarified with a nod.
Nothing was said for a full minute as Marshadow stared at the board, making two moves that Wishkeeper responded to within his five-second limit.
“My goal was ter save this world from little gaps that the gods missed,” Marshadow said. “Blind spots. The story was that without a full pantheon, there would be things that the world just… messed up on. That as more gods came about, fewer of those blips would happen. Turns out, that was a mistake, y’know.”
“It was the instability itself you were plugging the holes of,” Wishkeeper stated.
“Yeppers.” Marshadow moved the piece forward again, taking on an aggressive strategy. Wishkeeper parried it with a bishop blocking one pawn’s path, enroute to capture another. “Yer convinced he c’n be helped?”
“Yes. But not with my power. He needs… Necrozma’s power. And Arceus, and Mew. All three of them need to band together and rewrite his reality. It’s the only way.”
“Every reality has a god,” Marshadow said. “A single spirit, many spirits, er maybe even the spirit o’ the world itself an’ its laws an’ rules… But here, it’s the Hands, eh? The thousand Hands used ter make it. That’s this reality’s god.”
“And we need every single one to work towards the goal of saving him,” Wishkeeper said with a nod. “I know for sure that Mew and Arceus, if I asked, would agree, if it meant saving this world.”
“And it’s Necrozma yer convinced is ready ter zap the place an’ call it a day.”
“He’s said as much directly to me… And I know, now, that that’s why he was so persistent in having me ascend. His favored pupil. He wanted me to be happy doing it, so even when the world was gone, I’d go with him. So he
let me have a mate, a child, and would have them ascend just like me.” The temperature on the hillside rose. “He dictated every aspect of my life and only let me live because he thought he could have me after. I was just a toy to him. I wonder how many others he’d once had like me, only to discard and absorb their spirits like everything else.” A sick grin that showed his teeth plastered over Wishkeeper’s face. “Quartz is nothing but a nuisance to him. He’d never save it.”
“Then what’re you gonna do?” Marshadow asked, moving his queen out of the back row.
Wishkeeper blinked, not sure what that meant. Quickly, he made another move, hasty, and left a few pieces open for capture, like a strategic buffet for his opponent. He muttered a curse.
Marshadow continued, “Say you climb Destiny Tower, win over the hearts o’ the two gods other’n Necrozma. What’re you gonna do ter get Necrozma on yer side?”
“…If he doesn’t listen… then we will take away his divine power with the help of the other two. Have him scatter his power some other way.”
“Not give it to you?” Marshadow asked, raising a fiery brow curiously.
“I’ve spent all this time saying I don’t want to become a god,” Wishkeeper said. “Why would I decide to become one now?”
“Makin’ decisions for the whole world sounds pretty godly ter me,” Marshadow said.
“This is different.” As Marshadow made his move, Wishkeeper countered instantly. “I’m not deciding for the world. I’m stopping
them from deciding against the world’s wishes.”
“Neutralizin’ a decision, then. Contrarian, fer their sake. That it?”
“I guess that’s a way to phrase it.”
“Yer gonna ask Necrozma ter scatter his power. Force it, if you gotta. That’s yer goal?”
“At least then, the world can keep existing.”
“What’ll yeh do with Necrozma after?”
“Well… then he’ll be free to go to whatever other worlds he has. His domain in
those realities wouldn’t be affected, right? We’d just take away the power he has in
this reality.”
Marshadow shrugged. “Dunno how that works. Maybe.” He made another move.
And Wishkeeper countered again. “Check.”
“Gahh.” Marshadow’s eyes darted about to see the issue. “Well, alright. I guess I get yer perspective.”
“And what will you do?” Wishkeeper asked. “If you win. Die? Let the world end?”
“Gonna appeal ter recreate it. Maybe give this instability a new life. One where he ain’t in pain.”
Wishkeeper snorted. “Any way to ensure that?”
“Nah… Guess not. Just trust.” He made one more move, saving his king. “Guess that’s where we’re different. I don’t blame ya.”
“Right.” Wishkeeper snorted, a few embers escaping his nostrils as he placed his piece down decisively. “Checkmate.”
“Eh?!” Marshadow leaned forward this time, incredulous. He murmured a few curses and then said, “Yeh actually beat me.” And then accented it with another string of defeated mutters.
Wishkeeper started placing the pieces back in a nearby case, figuring their talk was over.
Marshadow helped. “Well, y’know, here’s my proposal. If y’win, I’m gonna be right there with you. Fight Necrozma, I won’t interfere. What happens, happens.”
This… surprised him. Perhaps Mew was even more fast and loose with allegiances than he’d expected, for Marshadow to even be able to utter such things without intense feelings of dread.
“That scatter idea, maybe it’ll be a win fer everyone. Necrozma sure seems ready ter move on, but we ain’t interested, yeah?”
“I guess not,” Wishkeeper said.
“Heh. Then it’s a deal.” He held out a tiny hand. “Good luck, Owen.”
Wishkeeper didn’t want to bother with looking into Marshadow’s past. He was too keen. But his Perceive, of his body, told him everything he figured he’d need to know. Marshadow felt… genuine.
He brought a single claw forward—the most Marshadow could grasp—and returned the shake.
“And good luck to you, too, then. Manny.”
“Heh. So
that’s my name.” Marshadow stepped back, case folded and under his arm. “Maybe I’ll get ter use it more someday.”
<><><>
“Quite a hero of his own story, isn’t he?”
I feel like you aren’t telling me everything, still. That’s all I know about Manny.
“Admittedly, Manny’s status is more… Star’s jurisdiction. Always having someone personally on the ground to carry out little duties.”
Little duties like keeping the world from ripping apart.
“Minor rips, but, I suppose, phrasing it that way…”
“Moving on. Owen… We should talk about your war effort.”
War. It was a war, wasn’t it?
“I suppose, in a way, it was. And you were their tactician, their commander. And every commander… has their generals.”
No, I… that can’t—
“Breathe.”
He couldn’t have been…
<><><>
Year 1015
“That’s the fifth time you’ve sent Remi back home, you know,” Mesprit said. “She really just wants to be with you…”
“I know, I know.” Wishkeeper sighed, rubbing his forehead. “No matter how much we reinforce the place, she somehow gets through it every time. How does she even manage to
do that?!”
“Well, she is your daughter,” Mesprit replied.
Wishkeeper again rubbed his face, then turned to the main conference room. Several Pokémon were shuffling in and out, placing papers on tables for other Pokémon to read over. A few of them gave nervous glances at Wishkeeper, who only nodded formally and respectfully toward them in response.
He had been intense lately. Trying to get others to relax around him was a personal goal of his for morale, though being thirteen feet tall made that difficult.
“Another report from the Gamma Squadron,” hummed an Inteleon, sliding a few papers forward.
“Mm, thank you,” Wishkeeper rumbled, picking it up to read it over. He had to delicately pick it up with two claws, holding it in front of him like a stiff tissue, but he could still read it well enough.
They were glowing reports of incredible forward progress, capturing a few strongholds without much resistance. It seemed like some of the most strategic locations that he’d entrusted Gamma Squadron to handle were all controlled by their army, now. Perfect. He’d surely assign him to another batch, then. A few more of those and they’d be able to storm Destiny Tower directly. Even if Necrozma had gone against his own system to resurrect Marshadow’s old team to combat him, they wouldn’t stand a chance against an entire army trained in the ways Necrozma had taught him.
He also knew that Lunala and Remi would also be leading that charge, and a pang of hesitation washed over him. No. No, he had to. He would push them aside, save the world, and… come what may after, at least he’d accomplished that for their own good.
For everyone’s good.
“
There he is,” Wishkeeper said with a wide grin.
“Hm?” called the leader of Gamma Squadron—his top general, now, a Hydreigon named Alexander.
“Alexander! This way, right here.” He gestured for him to enter the main conference room. “I just read the report. Another stronghold captured. And they just surrendered?”
“Oh, of course.” Alexander grinned, but it twisted into a smirk. “They knew strength when they saw it. Whatever resistance they attempted was short-lived.”
Wishkeeper nodded, taking a seat for the time being in one of the custom-oversized chairs meant for him. “You’ll need to tell me about it,” he said. “I know some of my strategies are restrictive, so working around some of them…”
“It only takes some creativity,” Alexander replied with an even wider smile, but there was something in the back of Wishkeeper’s mind telling him to keep asking questions.
His instincts were telling him something was wrong.
“How many new forces did we get from this?” Wishkeeper asked, the thought coming to him suddenly. And after he posed the question, he thought back to the reports that came back to him. The captured areas usually had Pokémon that fled, and surprisingly few new recruits. Usually, a campaign to save the world after telling them the truth got at least a
few new recruits each time with his methods, but Alexander’s were…
“Not very many,” Alexander replied leisurely, shrugging as his smaller heads frowned. The Hydreigon drifted listlessly toward the far side of the room, where a few ceramic cups with water were, and he took a drink with the left head while speaking. “I suppose I’m just too intimidating. I will work on being more presentable, Commander.”
Wishkeeper glanced at the Inteleon suddenly. The quick gesture made him almost imperceptibly flinch.
Which didn’t make sense. His sudden, feral gesture would have gotten an odd look, but the Inteleon was unmoved. He was hiding something.
“What do you usually witness, Inteleon?” Wishkeeper asked.
“What’s this questioning about?” Alexander asked, frowning as he went for another cup. “You send me to the most difficult strongholds of Necrozma’s forces. Of course they’ll be the least likely to turn. What of it?”
It was logical but his instincts were screaming that he was lying. Was he getting paranoid? Did he ever send Mesprit, Azelf, or Uxie with Alexander to do these kinds of checks? No. He’d always been the special forces; the Legends couldn’t bear to face the leads of the divine army directly. They would be weak to Arceus’ influence in particular if they got too close. They were under his domain, after all.
Wishkeeper didn’t want to ask the question. But he had to. “Alexander,” he said, “
how have you been capturing strongholds?”
“I follow your procedures exactly,” Alexander said. “I’m—”
“Recite them.”
He stopped drinking. “What?”
“Recite your procedure. You’ve done them a few times, haven’t you?”
Wishkeeper took slow, deliberate steps toward the unmoving Hydreigon. Pride was in his eyes, refusing to back away even as the gap between them closed.
Then, he flashed his eyes. Alexander resisted; he couldn’t read into what Alexander had done. He was aware of it, and he resisted?
“Excuse me,
Commander,” Alexander snarled, “but my mind is private, and I’d appreciate not violating that.”
“Your past is written to the world,” Wishkeeper said lowly. “I don’t read minds. I read your past.”
“My past is for the eyes that saw it, not yours.”
“How many of them did you kill?”
“None. That is against your policy.”
“Are you lying to me, Hydreigon?”
“I can’t lie to you.”
“You’re right. You can’t.”
Because he could see the tense body structure on his person. He was lying. Hiding
something.
Wishkeeper turned his eyes to Inteleon, who had been slipping out of the room. Unaware. Wishkeeper’s eyes flashed—
Blue fire knocked his head an inch to the right. Alexander glared at him, “What are you doing?”
But Wishkeeper had seen a flash from that Inteleon’s past. A single image from only a day ago. It was an intense feeling of admiration as Alexander pressed two Divine soldiers—one a Staraptor, another a Tauros—into the ground. There was blood in Alexander’s mouth, and it wasn’t his, the way he had a manic grin on all three of his mouths.
Everything had gone still. That was his top general. The one he’d sent on the most important missions to capture strategic areas. To ensure their forces would not run out of supplies, and the Divine army wouldn’t completely overtake their disadvantaged position. He was winning because of Alexander.
“…Your tactics are soft, Commander,” Alexander said slowly.
Everyone else in the room, by now, knew something was wrong. Tens of eyes were watching this exchange, and several tens more listening outside. It was like the whole encampment had gone deadly silent, and Alexander was projecting his voice to be heard.
“Had it not been for my maneuvers, this entire movement would have been lost from the outset. I only did it as a last resort. To secure the victory when peace and diplomacy failed us. Your priorities—”
“Then why were you smiling?” Wishkeeper asked, an ancient, feral growl accenting every single syllable.
Alexander hesitated, and in those eyes Wishkeeper saw someone calculating the perfect response. That mask of composure had slipped, and Wishkeeper saw Alexander for what he’d become on the battlefield.
He saw red. The next thing Wishkeeper knew, white, radiant light and black, cold shadows curled around his arm and coalesced into a black-white spear. Alexander’s eyes widened with panic, but that was all he could do before the spear pierced his chest, pinning him to the wall. Blood sizzled against the spear and dripped from his mouth.
The spear went deeper and Alexander let out a gurgling wail. The spear twisted and the wail became a bloody yowl.
He held it there, listening to the sound of his blood cooking against the spear. A horrible, sick satisfaction at the gesture coursed through Wishkeeper, and that made him dispel it. He couldn’t let that overtake him.
“We are here to save the world,” Wishkeeper said, “not pillage it. We are saviors, not conquerors. If you are going to go against that vision, as my subordinate… and then try to hide it from me… I will purge you from this world myself, so that even
Necrozma won’t find your spirit.”
Snapping his claws, three spears of shadow and light appeared above Alexander. Two of them pierced the smaller heads straight through; the third grazed his snout and pierced the ground in front of him. He could only wordlessly stare, unable to breathe.
“Never show your face here again,” Wishkeeper snarled. He then looked at all of the others, including the Inteleon, frozen with a mixture of fear and silent understanding.
Nearby, there was an Audino trying not to be seen. When Wishkeeper met her eyes, she yipped and looked down.
He softened his gaze. “Heal him, please.”
Without another word, Wishkeeper dispelled the spears and returned to his papers.
<><><>
Alexander… was my general. And after that promise I made to Marshadow, I let him command an army to…
“He was very effective, you know. Your idyllic approach to war… Do you think you would have won?”
But that wasn’t the point! If we won that way, what would be left of… What would that mean for what we saved? If we can even call it saving
anymore…
“Hmph. Despite all your years, you do not know what war truly means.”
“Mm. Well, in any case, Owen… I understand this all must be very hard for you. But, these next memories… may be difficult for you as well. Perhaps the most difficult. How your part in the war… ended.”
Why are you saying that now?
“Just remember how things are now. Things are different.”
That’s not foreboding at all.
“Can you promise me this, Owen? Something that happened after you fully defected and left Mhynt behind. After Alexander’s exile. After the word of what he had done, under your orders but without your knowledge, spread to us. After the meeting, and the promise that if you won, perhaps a compromise would be made. After all of that, the final thing I did?”
“…Speak carefully, Necrozma. I’m suddenly getting a lot of stress from Owen.”
Just talk.
“I… reached out to your allies who I sensed disagreed with what happened. That things were not going in the trajectory they wished, with word of what happened with Alexander—and others in your army, they thought—and what they did on the field. I gave them… a solution, and a compromise.”
<><><>
Year 1019
Wishkeeper did not need much to rally an entire, loosely associated army to save the world. By now, the youngest Pokémon in the world were fifteen years old. Wishkeeper himself was in his sixtieth year in his current reincarnation cycle, and his flame was stable but waning. He was far past his prime. But through divine and dark power, he was far stronger than any other mortal, and with little effort behind it.
He wasn’t alone. A few friends were with him during those dark years. Azelf, Mesprit, and Uxie were all with him, and Azelf most of all, by his side when Mhynt no longer was.
“That should be everything,” Wishkeeper said with a sigh, beating his wings. “Azelf?”
“Yeh.” It was a short reply and not as enthusiastic. Odd, coming from him.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeh, jus’ a little nervous.” The larger sprite glanced away, still not making eye contact with Wishkeeper. Was he having second thoughts?
“If you don’t want to do this, I’d… understand.
I have to. But you don’t.”
“Y’ain’t usin’ that mind reading thing, are yeh?”
Wishkeeper smiled sadly, but it did hurt. “No,” he said. “I can’t ‘mind read’ for Legends. But I wouldn’t want to anyway. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”
Azelf’s eyes trailed all around him. The war room. All that planning, battle maps depicting Destiny Tower’s surroundings, the way to ascend the floors when the gods truly didn’t want them to rise, where Necrozma would be, where perhaps even Star and Arceus would be able to help. Every possible plan, and all hidden from Necrozma thanks to the instability’s dark power.
They weren’t going to kill them. They were only going to prove their worth. The right for the world to continue.
“Y’ain’t gonna be mad if I…”
“Azelf…” Wishkeeper reached out and held the back of the small sprite’s head. Even with the increased size that came from working so directly with Necrozma, Azelf was simply so much smaller than him. He pulled him close until he pressed into his chest. Azelf closed his eyes, and so did Wishkeeper.
“We won’t kill anyone. That isn’t the goal. We only want to save the one person who truly needs saving. Okay?”
“It ain’t gonna work, though,” Azelf said. “This… the instability. It’s jus’ evil. Ain’t it?”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. We just need to change things.”
“…Just call it off,” Azelf said. “They’ll listen. Jus’… call it off, and maybe we c’n talk things through instead.”
“Azelf?”
“Call it off. Ferget the fight. This… ain’t right. World’s already two decades inter th’ end. It’s goin’ just as we wanted, and… it’s all a huge risk. I don’t wanna send folks ter some bad place when its time is up ter begin with. None o’ this is natural, an’…”
“Who put you up to this?” Wishkeeper asked, a little more seriously this time.
Azelf clammed up. There was fear in his eyes that Wishkeeper hadn’t seen before. Azelf was never like this. Did Necrozma put him up to this? Was Azelf being threatened? Wishkeeper’s gaze hardened even more, and he was about to speak—harshly, this time, to snap Azelf out of it—when the blue sprite spoke first.
“You changed, Owen.”
He blinked. “I… I what?”
“This ain’t you.”
More stunned silence, a cold feeling running down his spine and through his forehead. Azelf was still not looking at him. And then, suddenly, his flame dimmed to half its size and he staggered back.
“A-Azelf, what just…”
Azelf was holding something in his hands. It looked like a little blue light. It had a small string tied to Wishkeeper’s chest.
“I ain’t gonna… let this happen. Yer sidin’ with evil, and I just wanna save you. So… I’m gonna take this fer a little while. I’m takin’ away yer will ter fight.”
“My… will.” Wishkeeper felt like he should have been mad. Furious. He was being betrayed, and Azelf was misguided about it. He wanted to fight to get it back. But any time he tried, the thought floated away from him and slipped through his weakly grasping fingers. Azelf, the being of willpower, the ultimate rallying force… took his will away. His resolve. He couldn’t find the energy.
“Good job, Azelf.”
A cold voice sounded in Wishkeeper’s mind. From the entrance to the war room was another sprite, this one with a yellow head and closed eyes, Uxie. She was half Azelf’s size. Another one was just behind her, completing the set, Mesprit, the same size.
“Owen, we’ve weighed all of our options. I thought about this a lot. And the more we look into what this instability is, the clearer that it is an inherent blight to the world, down to its core. To defeat it, the world itself has to be destroyed. What happens after is up to Necrozma and the other upper gods. Mew and Arceus both want us to persist. If we surrender and the world is destroyed, there is nothing stopping them from recreating the world properly, without the instability.”
“But I want to save him,” Wishkeeper said, barely a murmur as he leaned against the wall, staring at that blue sphere in Azelf’s hands. “Please, give it back. I need to do this…” His words felt empty. It terrified him. And he still couldn’t find that fire to battle.
“Mesprit, it’s your turn now,” Uxie said.
“Owen, I’m… I’m really sorry. Don’t be afraid, okay? When it’s all over, you’ll wake up like nothing happened. The world will be restored, the instability will be gone, and… that’ll be the end of it. I know it’s not fair, but… we have to save everyone, Owen! It’s our duty! You may not be bound in the same way, but we
need to. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“You’re just being controlled,” Wishkeeper whispered.
“Are you really going to try to save one person by risking the entire world?” Uxie’s frown was thin but present. “
Your compassion is blinding you. This creature, this thing
in the world’s very fabric, is only made of malice and evil, and must be removed. It is a disease that cannot be cured. The best thing to do is stop everything now, and try again without it. That is the compromise Necrozma proposed to us.”
“He never even had a chance,” Wishkeeper said. “That’s not fair to him.”
“I do not think we are in a position to do what is fair anymore, Owen. Mesprit, do it.” Her brow furrowed, and Wishkeeper sensed a hint of reluctance. But not enough to rescind the command.
Another cold feeling washed over Wishkeeper, but this time he felt… fine. That terror was gone, along with the despair and foreboding. There was a warm, red sphere in Mesprit’s hands. Another part of Wishkeeper’s spirit? He didn’t know what was taken away, but he didn’t feel scared about it. Did that mean it was okay?
“Owen, you have spent a thousand years training and learning how to fight and defend and save others. While the gods had other duties to perform, your duty was general protection itself. You are the instability’s greatest tactician. And with the instability fighting without you, we will surely win.”
There was a long pause as Azelf and Mesprit stared at Uxie. Her hands tightened. She had to take something away next, didn’t she?
Images flashed in Wishkeeper’s mind as a cold feeling ran through his head again. He saw a Mew, smiling and doing flips in the air—and then it was gone, and he didn’t remember it anymore. He saw a Trapinch, a Bayleef, and an Axew, and then it was gone. He saw so many other Legends, but those faded next. A rapid and blurry reel of memories evaporated in front of him, and he didn’t feel a thing. And then, he saw a Sceptile, and that turned into a Lunala, and that was gone, too.
He saw another, younger Sceptile, smiling. Bruised and burned, but smiling after a great time training.
Uxie looked strained, trying to pull.
Wishkeeper saw a Grovyle, crying in her room because of the news she’d been told. He patted her on the back, and he felt a foreign sensation that made his chest tight and his flame swell. He didn’t remember what that was. Mesprit had that in his hands, after all.
Uxie furrowed her brows, pulling harder, but Wishkeeper didn’t let go, even as Azelf held that blue ember in his hands.
Then there was a tiny Treecko looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. So small that her whole hand couldn’t fully grasp his claw.
“I’m…” Uxie spoke without her mind this time. Her voice was soft and stumbling. She always needed telepathy to speak. But perhaps she was entirely focused on her task that she couldn’t. “I’m s… s… sorry.”
There was a yellow sphere in Uxie’s hands.
All of the memories went away.
<><><>
“That’s what happened. Afterward, you were—”
Get out.
“Owen?”
Get… get out. I need…
“He needs time, Necrozma. We’ve said enough for now, and you’re fading anyway.”
“But there’s a lot more that I need to—”
To justify? For having them rewrite everything about me? After the promise Manny made… Were you the one who sent them? Coerced them?
“Owen, it’s as Mispy said. I had a whole world’s souls to consider, versus just one… mistake. And—”
I don’t want to hear another word from you. Leave.
“You wanted all of your memories, didn’t you? I—”
Then maybe I’ll get them back myself!
“Then at least allow me to unseal the rest so—”
I SAID GO!
“…Very well. I do not blame you. I should have expected this. I will return later, if you allow it. Goodbye.”
…
“…Does that extend to me as well?”
I’m tired, Diyem. But… no. You can stay.
“Mm.”
…
“It’s… good to have you back, Owen.”
I remember… one last thing.
“You do?”
Yeah. Can I talk about it?
“Go ahead.”
<><><>
Everything had become a blur. Hazy memories of wandering around, being guided somewhere. He followed, passive. He occasionally said something, and they replied, and then there was a great darkness. He wasn’t able to see. Then a sharp feeling in his chest, and then… nothing.
“H-hello? Hello? Owen?”
Whose voice was that? It seemed familiar, somehow. Or maybe it was just the tone they gave off.
He wasn’t sure how he wound up there, but he was standing inside of a strange, glass tube, feeling heavy and wet. A green fluid was at his feet, draining into the sides of the glass chamber. Struggling to climb into the chamber from the ground was another Charmander whose body seemed to ripple beneath the surface, as if it could barely hold its form.
“Owen?” the Charmander said again.
Who was he talking to?
The Charmander grabbed him by the arm. That startled him and he tugged away, blinking.
“Do you remember me? It’s… it’s me,” he said. “It’s…” He looked like he was having trouble recalling his own name.
Behind the Charmander was an Alakazam writing down something in a notepad. “I’m not seeing a reaction at all, but it is certainly his spirit, Ditto,” he said, humming. “Can you speak?”
Eye contact. He understood that. The strange blob was talking to him. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Do you remember your name?”
The nameless Charmander frowned, pensive. He shook his head, not particularly alarmed by this. He simply didn’t know his name. Was that bad?
“Your name is Owen,” Alakazam said. “I’m afraid we both do not know our names, either. I’m sure with enough research we will rediscover them. Do you have any recollection of your efforts in a recent war?”
Owen stared blankly at Alakazam.
“Unfortunate. We were hoping for answers.” He sighed. “Never fear. Ditto?”
“Owen, do you remember me, at least? I… I know. If I go to my true form, you’ll recognize me! H-ha… One second.” Charmander focused, relaxed, and… melted.
That startled Owen enough that he took a step back.
“Ah, ah. It’s quite alright,” Alakazam said, raising a finger.
A pink blob… thing was staring back at him, now. Dots for eyes and a thin, hopeful smile. “Well? Owen?”
“How do you remember my name?” Owen asked.
“Well, that’s what this sign says.” He pointed at a label next to his tank. “I feel like that must be right. And Rhys, he had a journal. So that must be his name. It seemed right to him, too.”
“You know, I could always make a permutation of all possible letter combinations,” Alakazam suggested. “Eventually we will find a match.”
Ditto didn’t seem to be listening. “Does Owen sound like the right name? I know it is. It must.”
“I think so.” Owen nodded. Yes, Owen. He answered to ‘Owen’ a lot.
“Something terrible happened recently,” Alakazam said. “I’m afraid we don’t know the answers. But with some research and this lab, once I rediscover its capabilities, perhaps we will be able to rebuild. It isn’t a very pretty world on the surface, however. Perhaps we should take some time to recover.”
Ditto nodded, but then turned his head to other chambers. Owen followed his gaze and saw other Pokémon floating in chambers just like his. Eyes widening, he clumsily stepped closer, squinting for a better look. The bodies seemed to still be developing. He could see their transparent skin and internals. It was fascinating. He tilted his head, curious, wondering who they were. Who they would become. There were golden spheres above each one, draining into the forming bodies, and when Owen looked up at his own, he noticed that it was an empty sphere instead.
“Well! Let’s go, Owen. We won’t remember anything just standing around!” Alakazam clapped. “My first goal will be to find out why all of my research has been erased…”
As he talked to himself, he walked down the hall, the rest of his mumbling impossible to make out.
Ditto sighed, looking at Owen again. He tried to smile. His body twisted again, becoming a Charmander, feebly. That was still a little unnerving. But… it was nice, in a way.
“You may not remember anything, but… A-and I’m not really sure why I’m saying this, but…”
He smiled, partly desperate, partly relieved.
“It’s… good to have you back, Owen.”
End of Act III
I know I already mentioned it, but Owen's evolution was incredibly LC-core and I had the biggest grin once I realized where it was going. While also being aaaaaa because he just wants to save his human. Owen is a good.