Starlight Aurate
Ad Jesum per Mariam | pfp by kintsugi
- Location
- Route 123
- Partners
-
Hi everyone! Here to put my last entries for this year's Drabble Bingo. I want to thank @Negrek for creating this last-minute card for me! I had heaps of fun writing it. I hope you all enjoy!
| A Thousand Years of Dust | Compass | |
| Legendary | Mysterious Artifact | |
| Hadal Zone | Poem in a Forgotten Tongue |
“So, Jaime? What will it be?”
Bright lights from the city street shone from perhaps a hundred metres below her. Jaime’s hands violently shook she gazed down at the abyss, and it gazed back at her. She stood on the edge of a roof, far above Goldenrod City. There was nothing to hold on to for support.
She glanced into the distance, where she saw her Dragonite locked in battle with a Rocket Hydreigon. She just needed Dragonite to come to her—
“Say you’re sorry,” Archer said in almost a soothing tone. Jaime snapped her head to look up at him, where he blocked her way. “Say you’re sorry for stealing from us, give us the card key back, and all will be forgiven.”
She whipped her gaze to the city below, the edge on which she stood, her fate spelled out hundreds of metres below her—
“Come here now, darling,” Archie said softly as he held out his hand. “Give me the key, and come back to base with me.”
Jaime lifted her eyes, and as her brown eyes met his teal ones, the memories rushed back in—
Explosions in the Underground, holding a knife to the throat of an innocent bystander, pinning a Pidgeotto to the floor and stepping on its wing to break it, blood splattering across a wall as Proton’s Ursaring knocked a man to the floor—
Rage surged through her heart, and her fear turned into hatred. Her hands balled into fists, blood rushed to her face, her nostrils flared, and a sick sense of satisfaction hit her as a flicker of fear passed over Archer’s face.
“Never!”
“Golbat, go! Get the card key!”
Jaime didn’t even see the white light as she flung herself over the precipice, and an orange blur whipped across the corner of her eye, fear gripping her heart as the ground rose to meet her—
Bright lights from the city street shone from perhaps a hundred metres below her. Jaime’s hands violently shook she gazed down at the abyss, and it gazed back at her. She stood on the edge of a roof, far above Goldenrod City. There was nothing to hold on to for support.
She glanced into the distance, where she saw her Dragonite locked in battle with a Rocket Hydreigon. She just needed Dragonite to come to her—
“Say you’re sorry,” Archer said in almost a soothing tone. Jaime snapped her head to look up at him, where he blocked her way. “Say you’re sorry for stealing from us, give us the card key back, and all will be forgiven.”
She whipped her gaze to the city below, the edge on which she stood, her fate spelled out hundreds of metres below her—
“Come here now, darling,” Archie said softly as he held out his hand. “Give me the key, and come back to base with me.”
Jaime lifted her eyes, and as her brown eyes met his teal ones, the memories rushed back in—
Explosions in the Underground, holding a knife to the throat of an innocent bystander, pinning a Pidgeotto to the floor and stepping on its wing to break it, blood splattering across a wall as Proton’s Ursaring knocked a man to the floor—
Rage surged through her heart, and her fear turned into hatred. Her hands balled into fists, blood rushed to her face, her nostrils flared, and a sick sense of satisfaction hit her as a flicker of fear passed over Archer’s face.
“Never!”
“Golbat, go! Get the card key!”
Jaime didn’t even see the white light as she flung herself over the precipice, and an orange blur whipped across the corner of her eye, fear gripping her heart as the ground rose to meet her—
Dazzling lights from the stars glimmered and danced about him, filling the galaxy with their celestial light. The Nebula Cruiser 8-001 was far from a small ship, and Aster never tired of walking in its many halls. But, surrounded by the countless galaxies, Aster—and even his star cruiser—had never felt so small. He gazed at the swirling arms of a galaxy for a moment before his radio sparked to life.
“Aster? Hello? Are you there? Aster?”
Aster walked over to the receptor, his eyes linger for a moment on a picture he had set on the dashboard: a woman with light brown hair, holding a Skitty, smiling up at the camera. Aster’s heart twisted into knots at the sight of her before he pressed down the button and spoke into the radio.
“Yes, Damien, I hear you. Over.”
“Great! Anyway, Gothorita just made a new pebble arrangement. But this doesn’t look like any constellation we’ve seen before. We’ll send you the image. Over.”
“Thanks, Damien. Over.”
Aster waited a few minutes, and the bright lights of dancing stars gradually dimmed as the galaxies became fewer in number. He gazed ahead at the oppressive blackness, his mind uncontrollably replaying his last memories with Constance.
They stood outside their home as Constance carried a bag full of her clothes into the car.
“I don’t understand why you have to go!” Aster pleaded with her. Skitty nipped at Constance’s heels as she strode down the driveway. “You’ve been on plenty of space trips to the moon. Isn’t that enough? Why are they sending you to a new galaxy?”
Constance closed the door of the passenger seat after she set the bag down and lifted her pale brown eyes to look at Aster. There was no fear—only determination.
“I have to, Aster. This could be the biggest discovery of our lifetime! A new galaxy, with new life! I haven’t stopped thinking about it, not since our space exploration group determined it was possible for humans to reach. This has always been my dream.”
“But… you might be gone for years! You might never even come back!”
A bit of the determination fell away from her gaze, and sadness tinged her eyes. “I will be gone for a long time, yes. But don’t lose hope—Damien’s Pokemon have foreseen that we will see each other again.”
He set the photo down. Months turned to years, and the years dragged on, until, after having lost all contact with her, the space group concluded that Constance was lost for good. Aster could still feel the softness of her lips on his, of her hands on his face, of his heart wringing into knots as he watched her drive away—
Bing!
A computer screen lit up as an email from Damien came through. Aster opened it to see an erratic array of pebbles on the ground. Gothorita lingered in the corner of a picture, her chin in her hand, an artist inspecting her work.
Aster looked up at the few, dark constellations that remained before him. The stars glimmered faintly, like dark porters to the world beyond. He turned to the radar, showing several constellations that could not be seen with his naked eyes—
There.
He saw a patch of stars clustered together in the exact same pattern as the stones that Gothorita laid out. Heart leaping to his throat, he pressed the radio button.
“Damien? Hey, Damien, are you there?”
“Yes, Aster, I’m here. Did you get the email? Over.”
“Yes, I got your email—thanks. I see the constellation. I’m going in.”
“Great to hear! Good luck, Aster. Take care of yourself—and keep checking back in with us. Over.”
As the last static of the call died away, Aster reached down and lifted Constance’s photo off the countertop.
I’ll find you, Constance. I promise.
“Aster? Hello? Are you there? Aster?”
Aster walked over to the receptor, his eyes linger for a moment on a picture he had set on the dashboard: a woman with light brown hair, holding a Skitty, smiling up at the camera. Aster’s heart twisted into knots at the sight of her before he pressed down the button and spoke into the radio.
“Yes, Damien, I hear you. Over.”
“Great! Anyway, Gothorita just made a new pebble arrangement. But this doesn’t look like any constellation we’ve seen before. We’ll send you the image. Over.”
“Thanks, Damien. Over.”
Aster waited a few minutes, and the bright lights of dancing stars gradually dimmed as the galaxies became fewer in number. He gazed ahead at the oppressive blackness, his mind uncontrollably replaying his last memories with Constance.
They stood outside their home as Constance carried a bag full of her clothes into the car.
“I don’t understand why you have to go!” Aster pleaded with her. Skitty nipped at Constance’s heels as she strode down the driveway. “You’ve been on plenty of space trips to the moon. Isn’t that enough? Why are they sending you to a new galaxy?”
Constance closed the door of the passenger seat after she set the bag down and lifted her pale brown eyes to look at Aster. There was no fear—only determination.
“I have to, Aster. This could be the biggest discovery of our lifetime! A new galaxy, with new life! I haven’t stopped thinking about it, not since our space exploration group determined it was possible for humans to reach. This has always been my dream.”
“But… you might be gone for years! You might never even come back!”
A bit of the determination fell away from her gaze, and sadness tinged her eyes. “I will be gone for a long time, yes. But don’t lose hope—Damien’s Pokemon have foreseen that we will see each other again.”
He set the photo down. Months turned to years, and the years dragged on, until, after having lost all contact with her, the space group concluded that Constance was lost for good. Aster could still feel the softness of her lips on his, of her hands on his face, of his heart wringing into knots as he watched her drive away—
Bing!
A computer screen lit up as an email from Damien came through. Aster opened it to see an erratic array of pebbles on the ground. Gothorita lingered in the corner of a picture, her chin in her hand, an artist inspecting her work.
Aster looked up at the few, dark constellations that remained before him. The stars glimmered faintly, like dark porters to the world beyond. He turned to the radar, showing several constellations that could not be seen with his naked eyes—
There.
He saw a patch of stars clustered together in the exact same pattern as the stones that Gothorita laid out. Heart leaping to his throat, he pressed the radio button.
“Damien? Hey, Damien, are you there?”
“Yes, Aster, I’m here. Did you get the email? Over.”
“Yes, I got your email—thanks. I see the constellation. I’m going in.”
“Great to hear! Good luck, Aster. Take care of yourself—and keep checking back in with us. Over.”
As the last static of the call died away, Aster reached down and lifted Constance’s photo off the countertop.
I’ll find you, Constance. I promise.
A few whips of sand picked up as a breeze blew through the air. Broken spears stood on end, snapped in two during the battle. Unmoving bodies of soldiers and citizens alike were scattered over the plains. The air was thick with the iron scent of blood.
Koratos blinked a few times as he stared at the battle field. A large rock, perhaps ten metres tall, loomed over the battlefield. Long after the bodies had decayed and the blood faded away, the rock would remain as an eternal monument to the life lost there.
Koratos looked at the slab in his hands, at the incantation inscribed upon it. His own spear lay on the ground next to him, unbroken. The cries of battle still rang in his hears—the screaming, people choking as they were stabbed and their mouths filled with blood, the dull puncturing and ripping of flesh—
He tore his eyes from the slab and looked up at the rock. He could still see the massive Pokemon barrelling its way through battle in his mind’s eye—the golem, nearly two metres tall, trampling people as if they were grass. It was impervious to any spear, any bow, or other attack by man.
“Fight for us!” Koratos had frantically shouted as Regirock blasted its way through enemy and friend alike. “Leave ours alone! Fight the enemy!”
Koratos didn’t know whether Regirock couldn’t distinguish friend from enemy, or it did not want to, or it did not care. But as the battle dragged on, as more life was lost, Koratos picked up the slab, the magic that he and his clan had created, the writing they had invented, and he recited a new incantation.
If he could have reduced Regirock to the pile of rubble it had come from, Koratos would. But Regirock was too powerful for that. As Koratos chanted, Regirock’s body became lifeless and unmoving. Koratos sealed him within the stone, placing further spells to hold Regirock in place unless a specific set of criteria were followed. As long as nobody found Koratos’s magic, Regirock should remain sealed forever.
He looked at the battlefield, at the countless people lost. He recited one last incantation—the grassy plains would be replaced with a sea of sand, constantly under vicious desert winds, preventing any wanderers from stumbling on the place. Koratos walked away, the sand gradually whipping into a storm behind him. And Regirock’s tomb stood above the battlefield, a silent sentinel for generations to come.
Koratos blinked a few times as he stared at the battle field. A large rock, perhaps ten metres tall, loomed over the battlefield. Long after the bodies had decayed and the blood faded away, the rock would remain as an eternal monument to the life lost there.
Koratos looked at the slab in his hands, at the incantation inscribed upon it. His own spear lay on the ground next to him, unbroken. The cries of battle still rang in his hears—the screaming, people choking as they were stabbed and their mouths filled with blood, the dull puncturing and ripping of flesh—
He tore his eyes from the slab and looked up at the rock. He could still see the massive Pokemon barrelling its way through battle in his mind’s eye—the golem, nearly two metres tall, trampling people as if they were grass. It was impervious to any spear, any bow, or other attack by man.
“Fight for us!” Koratos had frantically shouted as Regirock blasted its way through enemy and friend alike. “Leave ours alone! Fight the enemy!”
Koratos didn’t know whether Regirock couldn’t distinguish friend from enemy, or it did not want to, or it did not care. But as the battle dragged on, as more life was lost, Koratos picked up the slab, the magic that he and his clan had created, the writing they had invented, and he recited a new incantation.
If he could have reduced Regirock to the pile of rubble it had come from, Koratos would. But Regirock was too powerful for that. As Koratos chanted, Regirock’s body became lifeless and unmoving. Koratos sealed him within the stone, placing further spells to hold Regirock in place unless a specific set of criteria were followed. As long as nobody found Koratos’s magic, Regirock should remain sealed forever.
He looked at the battlefield, at the countless people lost. He recited one last incantation—the grassy plains would be replaced with a sea of sand, constantly under vicious desert winds, preventing any wanderers from stumbling on the place. Koratos walked away, the sand gradually whipping into a storm behind him. And Regirock’s tomb stood above the battlefield, a silent sentinel for generations to come.