Starlight Aurate
Ad Jesum per Mariam | pfp by kintsugi
- Location
- Route 123
- Partners
-
Hi everyone! This is my entry for the Mischief and Malice contest held on Thousand Roads in 2022. I was inspired by the trickster magician archetype and explored how dangerous he could be, but also how far he'll go when his friends need him.
Content warning: there is a graphic depiction of a woman being choked to death.
Word count: 7,000
I hope you enjoy! I accept all feedback and criticism!
Content warning: there is a graphic depiction of a woman being choked to death.
Word count: 7,000
I hope you enjoy! I accept all feedback and criticism!
“Want to charm that pretty lass down the street? Or make a statement at the latest social? Come and take a gander at these crystals!”
An assortment of quartz, opals, amethysts, and more sparkled in a glittering rainbow beneath a dull, grey sky. Alistair waved his cane over his wares while the eyes of onlookers hungrily devoured the glimmering spectacles. A top hat sat tilted over his chin-length greasy blonde hair. Pale blue eyes gazed out from beneath its brim, surveying his customers calculatingly. His midnight black coat was ragged, with embroideries of moon phases stretching across his sleeves and over his back.
“How much for this ‘un?” a man grunted.
“Ah, that sapphire’s is a special one, it is! My mate, Voleur, and I to fight off three Spiritomb to get to it. It’s got powerful magical properties, it does! Some say that it can show you visions of the past. We’ll sell it to you for 250 quid!”
“250 quid?! This ain’t worth half that! I’ll give ye a hundred.”
“That’s an insult! If that’s your offer, then be off with you!”
The man reluctantly put the sapphire back on the table and grumbled, his eyes still fixed on the stone.
A young woman whose dark blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun looked curiously at a small gem in question. Her dark blue eyes shone with awe. A Hoppip sat perched on her head, her leaves quivering.
“What say you, Pippa?” the woman asked. “Shall I get one of these for Mum? It is her birth stone, and she does fancy this color. It’d look so nice with her new brooch…”
“Ah, got a preference for that one, have you?” Alistair asked as he cocked his top hat. “A fine eye you have, indeed! ‘Time Sapphire,’ that one is called. Some cultures in the Far East claim that it’ll show you what happened ages ago. Go ahead, hold it, see if it’s to your fancy!”
Without another word, he took one of the woman’s hands and placed the sapphire in it. No historical visions appeared, but the Hoppip and the woman smiled as she held it and examined it meticulously.
What she did not know was that, in the moment hers and Alistair’s hands touched, a ripple of energy passed through them. The man’s heart beat with excitement and a smile crossed his face. He looked to his right.
“Voleur!”
A Lucario, who had previously been dozing off in a patch of heather, jumped at the sound of his name. Flashing a dazzling smile, he walked over to his human companion and put an arm around Alistair’s shoulders.
“Meet my companion, Voleur! See, chap, this lass here has taken a fancy to that sapphire, she has!”
The lady smiled at Voleur.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Victoria Overhill, and this—” she gestured to the Hoppip “—is Pippa!”
Pippa happily pipped in response.
Alistair started.
“Overhill? Do you belong to the family that lives in that townhouse just beyond the Thelem river?”
“I do indeed, yes.”
“I knew you looked familiar! My younger sister is married to Jerome Overhill. Live in that same unit, I believe.”
Victoria’s eyes shone with delight. “Yes, he is my cousin! And one of my childhood best friends. How marvelous that you know him! I’ll be sure to tell them I met you today, Mr…?”
“Alistair Summer, at your service!” he said with a bow. “Anyway, I don’t mean to hurry you along, Miss Victoria, but I do have other customers to attend to.” And it was true—a group of people looked expectantly at him, waiting for the conversation to finish.
“Ah, yes, of course! I don’t believe in those Oriental tales that it gives you visions, but this sapphire really is beautiful. I’ll take it. How much for it, then?”
“For Jerome Overhill’s cousin, I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll give it to you for 25 quid.”
“25 quid!”
The man who had argued over the earlier price exploded. His eyes bulged as he jabbed a finger at the salesman.
“What kind of a business ye got goin’ on here? Cuttin’ deals for family an’ friends? That there gem is worth loads more, yet yer givin’ it to her for a fraction of the price!”
“That, my friend,” Alistair said, his pale face creased into a dark smile, “is the beauty of owning your own business! My place, my rules. You want that jewel, you pay 250. Or you leave.”
Looking over, he saw that Voleur had wrapped the sapphire in a sheet of paper, tied it with a ribbon, and handed it to Victoria and Pippa with a smile.
“T’was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Victoria! If you ever want to chat, you and Pippa are more than welcome to stop by our place for an afternoon tea.”
She beamed. “That sounds lovely! Where do you and Mr. Voleur stay?”
“We’re a traveling pair, never in one spot for very long. But we’re staying in a little hut over yonder hill, there.” He gestured with his cane to a heather-covered hill, where flowers and long strands of greyish-green grass swayed under the cloudy sky.
“And, of course,” he announced to the group at large, “we’ll be here every day this week, from 11 o’clock until 6! Bring your aunts, bring your cousins, and come get gifts for your loved ones!”
“We’ll see you soon, then, Mr. Alistair!”
“We’re looking forward to it, Miss Victoria and Miss Pippa!”
The duo took off while Alistair and Voleur attended to the other customers. After several more hours of arguing, bargaining, shouting accusations, narrowly avoiding fistfights, and exchanging goods and money, the two made their way back to the small wooden hut they had taken lodging in. Looking through the smoky window, Alistair saw the Thelem river burbling along, the same shade of dreary grey as the featureless sky. His long, bony fingers gripped a chipped porcelain cup of black Kanto tea. Voleur’s paws gripped a similar cup, also filled with a piping hot tea. Around them lay an assortment of items gathered from their travels: several oddly-shaped crystals; a pile of books with cracked and ragged bindings; a series of shrunken, shriveled heads; storyboards carved out of wood that depicted tribal island life; small figurines chipped out of stone that were originally votive offerings; a small tablet with a description in ancient Galar that read, “to a forgotten god;” bags full of spices, herbs, and teas; several sticks of chalk; and several more pouches that bulged with unseen contents. Alistair’s top hat lay on the table, the mop of his greasy blonde hair falling around his chin. It had been days since he shaved, and small ginger hairs sprouted on his face. His watery eyes locked on Voleur’s vermillion ones.
“You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”
Voleur wordlessly nodded.
“But you couldn’t feel it, could you?”
Voleur’s gaze fell and his shoulders slumped. He shook his head.
“That girl has aura.”
Voleur perked up. Alistair’s eyes shone with a hopeful light, a smile growing on his face.
“She has aura, Voleur! I activated a spell to detect it in other people, and I sensed it in her when I handed her the sapphire. We can do this, we can transfer it, we can get your power back! Ah, I see your concern, but don’t you worry about me! Family is family. She may be an Overhill, but they’re my family, too, and nothing will cut family ties. And even if they never wanted to speak to me again—why, getting your aura back is everything!”
Voleur leapt out of his chair, excitedly jumping up and down, a grin lighting his face in silent glee. After a moment, his bouncing stilled, and his smile slowly faded. He balled his fists and shook them in anger, desperation shining in his eyes.
Alistair’s heart panged. Getting up, he walked over to Voleur and put an arm around him.
“I’m sorry, mate, I know you want to share your excitement. But soon, you will! You’ll be able to speak again—and so much more…”
Voleur sat down on his chair, staring up at a wooden storyboard. Alistair sat next to him, his eyes on the same piece.
“Still thinking it was that woman, Isa, who did this, do you? I guess that’s the only connection we got….”
Wood from an ifit tree was elegantly carved in the shape of Wailord. Within the Wailord was a scene of palm trees standing at the edge of a beach. A group of invading islander warriors fled from the beach onto their rafts, carrying screaming indigenous women over their shoulders.
As clearly as the day it happened, Alistair saw the sun shining through the leaves of coconut trees. The sky was shockingly blue and the air was heavy with the taste of salt. Looking out through the window of the thatched home he and Voleur sat in, they could see a swathe of palm trees give way to a sandy beach and turquoise ocean.
Is this the place you carved in the ifit wood? Voleur’s voice reverberated through Alistair’s head. A small woman, whose dark face was heavy with wrinkles, looked up at them. Her white hair was tied into a thick braid draped over her shoulder. She wove together several palm branches, slowly forming a large mat.
“Yes,” she replied, evidently having heard Voleur’s question. “That scene depicts when the Haggan warriors invaded our island four hundred years ago. They interrupted our yearly mango festival, burned most of our tents to the ground, stole our food, took a hundred women from the Ayuyu tribe for themselves, and sailed off with them. They didn’t make it, though. Our ancestral spirits, the Taotao Mo’na, chased them, and their ship crashed just at the reef. All of them, including the women they kidnapped, perished. That event is still mourned among us to this day.”
Alistair moved his gaze from the ocean to the wooden piece she spoke of.
“ ‘Tis truly a beautiful piece you’ve got—handwork like this is prized all around the world! You should be very proud of it, Ms. Isa.”
The woman smiled. “Thank you. If you are interested in buying, we can negotiate a price. I usually charge about 350 Koror dollars for pieces like that.”
Alistair whistled and Voleur crossed his arms. “Your work is certainly beautiful, ma’am, but to pay such a steep price…”
“A ‘steep’ price? It is a fair price. I spent my life studying and perfecting this craft. You won’t find it outside this island. 350 it is, if you don’t want the gods wreaking justice on you.”
Justice? Voleur laughed. You actually believe that justice will be carried out after telling us stories like that? He asked, pointing his paw at the ifit carving. Did the Ayuyu ever get anything back after the Haggan pillaged them? They died, just like their invaders!
“Justice doesn’t mean you get back what you lost—some things that are lost are never found again. You don’t regain purity or innocence. And lives that are lost are gone forever. Justice means that, when you do wrong, it will come back to you. And that is what the Haggan faced when they attacked us.” She looked at Voleur disapprovingly. “Lucario are supposed to be most gallant creatures, and yet you’re spending your life swindling and trying to make cheap profits?”
“My companion’s got a fair point, ma’am,” Alistair said, leaning against the table on which Isa was weaving her palm leaves. “As much as we respect your trade, we’ve got to fill our bellies, too, and we aren’t making a profit if you’re gutting us out with such high prices. We’ll give you 150 quid for your carving.”
“Leave.”
Alistair tsk-tsk’d. “You’d really send away like that? You’re an elderly woman, ma’am, and haven’t got much longer for this earth, and you really just want to spend the rest of your life shooing people out the door?”
“Don’t make that offer again—there are banyan trees all around this island, and the Taotao Mo’na living inside them will hear. I’ve got better ways to live my life than entertaining people like you. Your offer was downright insulting. I’m getting what I deserve for my work, or I won’t give it away at all. 350.”
Isa looked up and saw Voleur’s eyes shining a brilliant blue. She gasped.
You shouldn’t have messed with us, woman, his voice rang. When we give you our price, you accept, like everyone else does.
Voleur raised a paw, pointing it at Isa. He remained sitting where he was, at least a meter away from the elder. But Alistair saw indents appear on Isa’s neck where Voleur’s aura pressed in, tightening her airway. Her dark eyes bulged, red lines appearing as blood vessels burst. She gurgled wordlessly, foaming at the mouth. Clawing the air, her legs went limp, and she was held only in place by Voleur’s aura. A few more choked gurgles squeaked out of her black, bruised throat before Voleur let go and Isa slumped to the ground.
Alistair’s heart turned cold as he watched the elderly woman’s life drain away from her. “Voleur, I… we didn’t have to do that.”
The Lucario leapt across the table and deftly picked up the storyboard from where it hung. His red eyes locked into Alistair’s blue ones.
We came all the way across the world’s largest ocean for things we can sell, not stories we can listen to. I’m not leaving without something to at least pay for our trip.
Alistair didn’t feel like making a getaway; his heart hung heavy with guilt and disgust as he stepped around Isa’s unmoving body. He noticed Voleur taking other storyboards off the wall and packing them into a sack.
“What are you doing?”
She’s not going to need the rest of these, will she?
Reluctantly, Alistair helped Voleur pack the rest of the wooden art pieces. In a flash, the two were off, racing through a jungle of cycads and pandanus trees. Alistair was still unhappy about the way they dealt with Isa—and Voleur knew it.
Stop being so mopey, the Lucario said as he leapt over a fallen coconut palm. His eyes perpetually glowed as he used aura to move various branches and rocks out of his way. We’ve done this before. Remember that dojo master who wouldn’t give up his thousand-year-old family seal? You used magic to take his life!
“But,” Alistair panted as he clambered over a rotten trunk, “that man was capable. He could defend himself! This old woman was alone and defenseless. It doesn’t feel right.”
He couldn’t defend himself against your spells! He stood no chance, and you knew it. I don’t see how taking this woman’s life was any different.
“Still,” Alistair grumbled, glancing up as they passed a grove of banyan trees encircling a shrine to the Ayuyu goddess, “it was a different situation, I figure.”
Oddly enough, Voleur didn’t answer. The two jogged along in silence for a bit, until Alistair heard a loud WHACK! and several thuds.
Looking over, he saw Voleur lying face-up on the ground, his paws covering a welt on his long nose. The storyboards lay scattered around him.
“What’d you do that for? Use your aura to keep bending the plants and keep them out of your face!”
Alistair helped his companion up. Voleur took his paws off his swelling nose and glared wordlessly at the human.
“Got nothing to say for yourself, is that it?”
Voleur stamped a foot, glaring furiously at Alistair, but nothing else happened.
“What’s gotten into you? Not saying anything? Not even going to flare up your aura like you always do? Just going to stand there?”
Voleur angrily stamped his feet, shaking his paws. But his furious glare changed into a look of desperation—his red eyes shone with fear. He opened his mouth, but only grunts came out. Lucario mouths couldn’t articulate human speech.
Alistair’s heart sank as the reality dawned on him.
“Voleur, what… what happened to you?”
Voleur looked around desperately, performing graceful, dance-like motions that he often did when using his aura. Alistair knew he was trying to bend the leaves and branches of the trees, raise fallen trunks off the ground, spin coconuts and pandanus around in the air—
But nothing happened. The Lucario still looked very elegant as he danced and leapt, but no blue power shone from his paws. And nothing around him moved.
After a few seconds of uneventful dancing, Voleur let out a wordless, strangled-sounding roar. Alistair flinched—he had never heard Voleur physically scream before. The Lucario ran over to a fallen trunk and angrily kicked it, snapping it in half and sending the pieces flying through the air. He ran about in a frenzy, kicking and punching trees, lifting up and hurling rocks, tearing everything apart in a rampage.
Once he exhausted his rage, he stood, panting, looking at the wreckage of fallen trunks and ripped-up leaves around him. Alistair stood at a distance, watching the whole spectacle, out of reach of Voleur’s fury.
Voleur raised his eyes to meet Alistair’s. Tears fell down his cheeks.
His heart moved with pity, Alistair walked over to Voleur, packed the storyboards into the satchels, and hoisted them over his shoulders.
“Come on, my friend,” he said, putting an arm around Voleur. “Let’s get off this forsaken island. We’ll find a way to restore your aura.”
Alistair snapped back to the present as a crisp breeze blew through the hut. Crystals and glass shards dangling from bits of strings knocked into each other, sending high-pitched tinkles ringing through the air. Alistair frowned as he looked at the variety of crystals, chalks, spell books, and more that he had used in vain efforts to restore Voleur’s aura.
“I know it hasn’t been a success story so far,” Alistair said as he walked over to a small pile of spell books stacked on top of a cupboard. The top one, its midnight-black binding barely holding together, was illumined with several constellations stitched in gold. Alistair carefully lifted the cover and moved a number of dusty pages aside till he came to one covered with scrawled handwriting.
“But I have hopes that transferring aura will work! The Overhill’s are a lovely family; I’m sure Miss Victoria will be more than happy to help.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Would Miss Pippa like another cuppa tea?”
“Yes, please! She is quite the caffeine-addict. By far the worst in the family!”
Victoria Overhill sat in their little hut next to Alistair. Across from Victoria sat Voleur, a steaming cup of tea held between his paws. On Voleur’s other side, Pippa sat on the table, holding her cup out as Alistair filled it with black tea.
“Pip pip!” she exclaimed happily.
“Quite a little charmer, isn’t she?” Alistair mused. “You’ve got a little dear, there. Can you understand her well?”
“Oh, quite well. She is my best friend and goes everywhere with me! I can’t understand her speech, obviously, but she has many other ways to communicate.”
Victoria raised her eyes, her smile fading slightly as she saw Voleur staring at her expressionlessly.
“Voleur! Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” Alistair scolded.
The Lucario immediately lowered his eyes, slowly sipping from his teacup.
“And, er… Are—are you two close, as well?”
“Voleur is my best mate. He’s been all around the world with me, through thick and thin. We used to spend our days conversing with each other!”
“Used to?” Victoria lowered her teacup curiously. “Why not anymore?”
“Have you met a Lucario before, Miss? Naturally, they’re capable of human speech. He and I spoke to each other all the time with that special ability—called ‘aura,’ commonly.”
Victoria listened attentively, and Alistair could tell her attention piqued at the mention of aura. Perhaps she was trying to conceal it, but he saw her back straighten slightly, her eyes widen a little, and her grip on her teacup tighten.
“And it wasn’t just talking to humans that he could do! He could sense the minds and feelings of all creatures around him, human and Pokemon, alike. He could bend other objects to his will and shoot energy balls from betwixt his paws. “
“But what happened?” Victoria asked softly. “Why not anymore? How did he lose it?”
“That, lass, we haven’t the foggiest. His aura was there one day and gone the next—he went silent in less than a minute. Aura is how Lucario communicate with each other—through speech, and also through feeling each other’s presences. A Lucario without aura is like a human without a soul, if you believe such things. Without his aura, his own kind won’t even accept him. Worse than mute, he is. And so, we’re doing everything to get it back.”
“That’s dreadful! And you’ve had no success so far?”
Alistair shook his head. “Nothing, but I have hope, still! We’re looking into the concept of ‘sharing’ aura—find someone who has the ability and see if their powers can be used to restore his.”
The four of them sat silently around the table for a moment, the stillness punctuated only by the sounds of Pippa slurping her drink. Voleur stared at the teacup between his paws, its contents having gone lukewarm. Alistair’s eyes went glassy as he became lost in thought. Victoria glanced apprehensively back-and-forth between Voleur and Alistair.
“Ah, this—this ‘aura,’ was it? That can detect the minds and feelings of people and Pokemon? How—how can you tell if someone has it?”
“Well, Miss, most people can only know if they’ve got a Lucario or Riolu to show them what it is and how to use it. Aura in humans is a very rare thing, it is. Some say that it used to be all humans who had aura, but as humans became corrupt, we gradually lost it, and it now resides within a few. But!” His eyes sparkled with a hungry light. “Voleur and I have also found a way to detect it in people. I’ve been studying crystals for years now, and whenever someone with aura holds a Time Sapphire, it’ll tell you!”
Victoria’s eyes lit up. “A Time Sapphire? Like the one you sold me?"
“Yes indeed, ma’am, but truth be told, I think the one you bought for your Mum was cut down too fine—still a beautiful gem, but lost the power to show visions of the past. I have real, uncorrupted Time Sapphires—with them, we’ve got a way to tell if people have aura!”
“If,” Victoria said quietly, “you found someone who thought they had aura, you could tell? And then try to restore Voleur’s aura with them?”
“Precisely!”
Victoria’s eyes dropped to her cup. “I… I think I may—I may be one of those people.”
Alistair and Voleur started in mock surprise. “And what makes you say that, Miss?”
“There’s something different about me—there always has been. I can—can feel others. I can sense energies coming from different people and things—sometimes things that aren’t even alive, like churches and cemeteries. When it’s dark, or my eyes are closed, I still know what my surroundings are like—even though I’m not seeing things, I know how everything looks! And with some people, I… I can hear their thoughts. Not yours! I don’t know what’s going on in your head,” she said with an awkward giggle. “I’m not invading your privacy! But with other people and Pokemon, I can tell what they’re thinking.”
Alistair and Voleur looked at each other—the excitement in Voleur’s eyes was genuine. Victoria’s description of aura was infallibly accurate.
“And,” she added, “if this is aura, I’d be happy to help Voleur regain his powers!”
“You will?” Alistair asked, eyes sparkling.
“Absolutely!”
Getting up, Alistair removed a large jewel—much larger than any he sold at the market—from a pouch hanging in the corner of the room. Its surface was like dusty glass; it did not shine or glimmer, and it looked as if it had been roughly handled and beaten.
Alistair placed the sapphire in Victoria’s pale hands. Victoria gasped—the moment the stone rested between her palms, a blue light shone from within the jewel, making it sparkle a pale azure, lighting up the wonder and awe in the eyes of the four who beheld it.
Once the light appeared, Alistair snatched the jewel from Victoria’s hands. If she held the Time Sapphire for too long, it would show an event that happened at that location in the past—and there was no need for her and Pippa to see what Alistair and Voleur had done to the previous inhabitant of the hut.
Victoria sat still on her chair, a euphoric smile lingering on her face. Putting the Time Sapphire back in its pouch, Alistair beamed at Victoria.
“Miss Victoria, you’re a gem, you are!” Alistair said with a laugh—and his laugh wasn’t fake. Voleur was going to be restored! “If you’d be willing to help us out, we’d be indebted to you for the rest of our lives! I’ll need a day or two to prepare the magic apparatus to share your power, but if you could come back then, we’d be most grateful.”
Victoria blinked a few times and snapped out of her euphoric state. She smiled at Alistair—but her elation changed to hesitation.
“Magic? Is that how we’re going to share my aura? Mr. Alistair, that stuff is forbidden!”
“Miss Victoria, I promise you, there is no risk involved whatsoever. I’ve been studying magic and spirits for years, and not once has harm come to Voleur or I for it. Peoples’ suspicion of magic is like their suspicion of aura: unfounded. They don’t like it because they don’t understand it, we don’ think that’s fair.”
Victoria nodded, still looking hesitant.
“Ah, can we meet at the same time for afternoon tea? There’s nothing suspicious at all about meeting you—it’s just my aura. You see, my family doesn’t know about it. Like you said, people don’t understand it, so I’ve been afraid to tell anyone. My family will be wondering why I’m taking off if it’s at a strange hour or strange location. But I can just tell them Pippa and I are meeting you two for afternoon tea again, and they will think nothing of it.”
“That sounds splendid, Miss. Shall we say two days from now? At four o’clock, tea time?”
“Yes, we’d be delighted!”
Voleur and Alistair saw Victoria out the door, Pippa drifting over her head and chattering excitedly. Once the lady and her companion vanished from sight, Alistair and Voleur looked at each other. Their faces broke out in smiles and they hugged each other fiercely. Laughter spilled out of Alistair and his heart beat with elation.
“It’s happening, Voleur! You’re going to get your aura back! You’re going to speak again, use your powers again—all will be well!”
The two relinquished each other and sat outside, looking dreamily at the monotonous grey sky.
“And you heard her talking about her aura? She doesn’t even use it! I’m sure she won’t be bothered in the slightest to have it taken from her. Might even be a relief, it might!”
Voleur lay back on the grey-green grass, his paws crossed behind his head, smiling blissfully. It seemed he couldn’t care less about how this affected Victoria.
“Well, I still care about Miss Victoria—she’s family, mind. But getting your aura back—that’ll be worth the world.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The next day was as grey as the previous—but there was something in the air, inside the pale sunlight, that held an unseen excitement. The once-dreary clouds blanketing the sky now seemed to glide with life. The windows to the little hut were removed, laying propped against the walls, and the table and chairs were all moved outside. Alistair and Voleur placed the majority of their bags and items outside to clear as much space on the floor as possible.
Slightly off-center from the middle of the floor, a wooden stand stood with the Time Sapphire fixed to it. A few strips of leather dangled from the sides of the gem. Four unlit torches surrounded the apparatus, forming a small circle about two meters in diameter. On the wall was a small holder in which sat a variety of black and white chalk sticks.
Voleur walked around outside the hut with a lively spring in his step. Alistair’s heart swelled; how many years had it been since he had seen Voleur look so happy, so hopeful? An excited smile was glued to the Lucario’s face, and he occasionally clapped his paws together.
Alistair smiled. Yes, Voleur would be able to use aura, but more importantly, he’d be happy. As much as Alistair looked forward to the adventures they would get back to with Voleur’s powers, he just wanted his friend to be joyful again.
Voleur constantly glanced over the hills. He’d tear his glance away, walk a few steps, then glance back once more. He clasped his paws behind his back, twirled in place, glanced back up at the hills. He repeated this several times in constant restlessness.
Alistair bounced on the balls of his feet, humming a soft tune. He glanced at his watch every other second. With clouds covering the sky, it was impossible to tell the time of day by position of the sun. Only the gradual growing and dimming of light that heralded sunrise and sunset gave any indication as to the passage of time.
Setting up the apparatus had not taken Alistair nearly as much time as he had thought. It was barely noon and he was already bored. Neither he nor Voleur could eat; they were both too anxious.
Alistair drummed his fingers on his legs. For the millionth time, he glanced at the book with instructions—there was no need to, of course. At this point, he had the guide memorized. But if there was just one more thing he could do to make time pass any more quickly, he’d go for it.
As he flipped the pages, he saw several depictions of various gods and goddesses looming over people and Pokemon like giants. Some of them had strings extending from their fingertips, attached to the mortals like puppets. Several pages showed a series of grotesque transformations, of attempts to shift from human to Pokemon and back; another page showed a Medicham tied down in the middle of a makeshift circle of wood, its terror-stricken gaze heavenward as its soul was wrenched from its body.
Alistair’s eyes glossed over the illuminations; they immediately enraptured him when he first acquired the book, but he had thoroughly read through every page so many times that he no longer could learn anything new from it all. Having practiced most of the spells in the book—or the ones that were accessible to a single mortal magician like him—he had seen firsthand the results of attempted transmogrifications and painful procedures like soul-switching.
He jerked his head up at the sound of excited clapping—Voleur jumped around in silent delight. Alistair’s heart leapt as he saw them: Miss Victoria Overhill and Miss Pippa making their way over the heathered hill!
Alistair leapt to his feet as the duo walked up to them, a smile plastered to his face. He always smiled whenever he saw people—largely out of habit when trying to sell something. But this time, the smile was genuine.
“Miss Victoria, fantastic to see you! And you too, Miss Pippa. Come, come inside.”
Alistair hardly noticed the reluctant smile Victoria gave him, or the hesitancy with which she slowly followed him and Voleur into their hut. Pippa clung to Victoria’s head, her leaves drooping as she looked uncertainly at the trio.
“Yes, come right this way, Miss, here’s the apparatus—we’ll get the two of you all set up.”
“Ah—Mist—Mister Alistair? I’m just—just not certain…”
Alistair and Voleur halted in their tracks and stared at Victoria and Pippa; Alistair with surprise, Voleur with distress. Victoria scrunched up the folds of her dress, nervously wringing the fabric in her delicate hands. She was turned pointedly away from Alistair and Voleur, refusing to make eye contact with either of them.
“What’s that, now? You don’t want to? Why? Do you think we’ll hurt you?”
“No! No, not at all. Jerome speaks very highly of you, Mister Alistair, he said you would never hurt someone. I just—I—I don’t know, is all.”
Alistair and Voleur looked at each other. Voleur’s mouth hung slightly open and his eyes were wide. His paws shook with anxiety—they were so close! They couldn’t just let the opportunity go away now—but they needed Victoria for this.
“Well, Miss Victoria,” Alistair said slowly, “we won’t do this if you don’t want to.”
“I—I just don’t know,” she said hastily. Finally, she looked up at Alistair—her dark blue eyes were full of fear and confusion. “I just feel uncertain.”
“Why do you feel uncertain?”
She turned away again, her eyes trained on her now shaking hands.
“I—I don’t know! I’m always uncertain.”
Alistair paused. She wasn’t eager to help out, but she wasn’t saying no, either. Perhaps, once they got things rolling, she’d feel more comfortable and go along more readily.
“We’ll get things started,” Alistair said slowly, “and, if you don’t like it, you can pull away.”
Victoria said nothing but stared silently as he took her pale hands and wrapped the leather thongs around them, tying her to the Time Sapphire. As before, a dim light shone in the gem as soon as she touched it.
Alistair did the same with Voleur, whose paws were readily on the luminescent stone. His vermillion eyes were wide with alacrity, and Alistair’s heart swooped with joy.
“Ready? Ah, Miss Pippa, you probably shouldn’t stay there—”
Alistair reached up and lifted Pippa off of her owner’s head. The Hoppip squealed in dismay, but if she was resisting Alistair at all, he couldn’t feel it. He set Pippa in a corner, where she watched the scene with apprehension, her gaze switching back-and-forth from Alistair and Victoria. Victoria did nothing but remained where she was, as if frozen in a block of ice. A few strands of blonde hair fell from her usually well-kept bun, which was messy today. Lines extended from her tear ducts, there were noticeable creases at the corners of her eyes, and bags hung beneath her eyelids.
Pulling out sticks of black and white chalk, Alistair traced a circle on the ground around the duo and Time Sapphire apparatus. He drew a variety of shapes and lines within the circle, humming cryptic words from a long-forgotten language. As he did so, the sky outside the hut dimmed, and the torches automatically flared up with a pale blue fire. As Alistair continued his drawings and his humming, the dim light in the Time Sapphire became brighter than the torches in the hut.
Soon, the humming no longer came just from Alistair, but from the multitude of disembodied spirits that leapt out of the torchlight. Shapeless beings swirled around Voleur and Victoria, humming discordant tunes, their voices growing ever louder, a cacophony echoing through the tiny hut.
They flew ever more quickly as the light of the sapphire glowed more brightly. Victoria’s dress billowed wildly; her bun ripped free as her long hair whipped about her face. Her head leaned back, and her eyes burned an intense shade of blue. Light poured from her eyes and mouth, only to quickly leech away and reappear in the Time Sapphire. The air tingled and sparked with energy as the spirits danced and raced around the duo, azure light beaming from Victoria and the Time Sapphire.
As Alistair saw the same blue light glow in Voleur’s eyes, dance in lines along his body, radiate from his core, he laughed with delight. His heart sang, his spirits soared—it was working!
Alistair!
“Voleur?”
The Lucario turned, and through the whirlwind of spirits and torchlight, his blazing blue eyes locked on his companion.
Alistair, this is it! I—I can sense you once more!
Alistair laughed in relief. Yes, it was true—and he could feel Voleur, too! The familiar sense of a presence touching his mind, his feelings—it was there.
With a final flourish, the spirits formed a column of fiery, white light and flew upwards, through the roof. They passed intangibly through the wooden ceiling, disappearing without a trace. The torches went out. Victoria stood still, lank locks of untied hair obscuring her face, hands still tied to the Time Sapphire. Voleur’s thongs had come undone, and he stood in place, staring at the blue energy radiating from his paws. He raised his eyes to Alistair’s.
“Voleur! I—I—” Alistair could hardly speak for laughing with joy. “How—how do you feel?”
Amazing.
The Lucario looked at his paws in awe, a blue energy still emanating from his eyes. He held his paws a few inches from each other and an aura sphere instantly appeared between them. He launched it—it flew through the open window and crashed into the tree outside, knocking several branches off and causing the tree to sway precariously.
This power—it feels better than it ever did before! I can finally do it all again—I can speak, I can use my aura—Alistair, I’m me again!
With a delighted laugh, Voleur leapt out of the chalk circle and embraced Alistair in a wide hug. The two laughed, their hearts dancing in union.
“Oh, Voleur, I’m so happy!”
The two pulled back, still smiling at each other. But their smiles quickly faded.
The blue light that had just been radiating from Voleur’s eyes and paws was gone. The Lucario stared silently at Alistair for a moment—then his smile turned to a look of frustration which quickly transformed into terror.
Voleur stepped back, looking at his paws. He placed them near each other, as before, to gather energy for an aura sphere—
Nothing.
He looked up at Alistair, breathing heavily. He waved his arms, performed elegant martial arts motions, closing his eyes to meditate—
And still, nothing happened.
With a choked cry, he ran back into the chalk circle and put his paws back on the Time Sapphire. Voleur looked up at Alistair, eyes shining in utter desperation.
Alistair hurried over, his heart racing with panic. He was about to tie Voleur’s paws to the sapphire when he noticed Victoria still standing there. Though her hands were still on the gem, it was cold and lifeless.
“Voleur, I…”
Alistair’s heart wrenched as he saw Voleur’s distress, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily.
“I’m sorry.”
Voleur scrunched his eyes shut, tears pouring down his cheeks as he let out a wordless scream. He kicked the apparatus—the wooden stand flew out from under the Time Sapphire and crashed into the wall. The sapphire fell to the ground, taking Victoria with it.
Voleur screamed and ran about, kicking aside the torches, tearing down hanging crystals and suncatchers, destroying every object in sight. Alistair watched him, his heart hanging heavily, fighting back tears that lingered just behind his eyes.
At least, when Voleur had torn down every remaining piece of magicware and décor, he sank to his knees, sobbing.
Strolling over to his companion, Alistair wrapped an arm around him. The two of them sat there, commiserating. Why the spells didn’t work, Alistair didn’t know—but he thought it unwise to voice those questions aloud at the moment. For the time being, the two took small comfort in each other’s company, leaning on each other for hope.
Alistair noticed movement out of the corner of his eye—he looked up and started when he saw Pippa fly over to Victoria. The woman was still on the ground, her hands tied to the Time Sapphire.
“Ah, Miss Victoria! Terribly sorry about that, I had all but forgotten you. Here, let’s get you back home, now.”
Alistair untied Victoria’s hands from the stone. She sat there, unmoving, her eyes staring blankly as the leather thongs fell from her hands. In spite of the dancing flames and spirits, she bore no marks from the ordeal. The only difference was the lifeless stare of her eyes, and her general unresponsiveness to Alistair’s instigations.
“Come on, Miss, I’ll walk you home. You too, Miss Pippa, come along, now.”
Alistair helped Victoria to her feet and walked together with her beneath the clouded, grey sky. For once, he didn’t feel like talking. He kept thinking back to the glorious moment of hearing Voleur’s speech again, of seeing his elated smile, the sparkle in his eyes as he used his aura—and the utter defeat at seeing it all disappear a moment later. Alistair’s heart lay in the pit of his stomach as guilt permeated him. He felt like a failure.
Just what went wrong? And why did Victoria’s aura disappear, too? The otherworldly spirits usually played by the rules of the book. Why did they suddenly stop?
Alistair walked Victoria and Pippa to the bridge over the slow Thelem river and bade her off. He had no desire to see his family, but he did want to ensure the two of them got home all right. More importantly, he wanted to give Voleur some time alone to process the day’s events.
As he walked back inside the hut, he saw Voleur sitting in the corner, his elbows resting on his knees. Voleur looked up at Alistair, the remnants of tear tracks on his cheeks, his eyes having long run dry.
Without a word, Alistair began packing up. He picked up the broken pieces of wood, the shattered glass, the magical items that Voleur had destroyed in his rage, and dumped them all into his various bags and pouches. There would be time to sort them later.
Before long, he heard the clutter of moving pieces as Voleur helped him, and the two had the hut cleaned up and their belongings packed in a trice.
Pulling his backpack on his shoulders and laying the rest of their bags on a cart, Alistair threw an arm around Voleur’s shoulder. Voleur responded in kind, and the two slowly made their way past the heathered hills, leaving the city behind.
“Have no fear, Voleur. We’ll find a way to get your aura back. And, aura or no aura, you’re still my best mate.”
Alistair was named after Alistar Crowley (not very original, I know, but I felt like it was fitting) since he's not only a magician but practicing the occult. "Voleur" comes from the French word for "stealing," not only because he enjoys stealing other peoples' property to make money, but because he's fine with stealing other peoples' powers and abilities for his own sake, as he tried to do with Victoria and her aura.
I based Isa and her culture off of Pacific island cultures; story boards in particular are made on the island of Palau in real life, and they're considered exquisite works of art that go for a lot of money. Taotao Mo'na are spirits from Chamorro culture, the people of the Mariana Islands, and they can be hostile who intrude on native land or disrupt nature. "Hagan" is Chamorro for "turtle" and "Ayuyu" (pronounced A-dzoo-dzoo) is Chamorro for "coconut crab." And mango festivals are a real thing on Pacific Islands, as are festivals for other foods like peppers!
In this story, aura is representative of innocence/purity. Voleur lost his aura not only because of the Taotao Mo'na taking it away and enacting justice on him, but because he had willingly corrupted his own heart and chose greed and power over valuing the lives of others, and defiled his own purity in that sense. Victoria was someone who possessed aura because she was innocent (truly believing in the goodwill of everyone around her, and believing that nobody would want to hurt her) and was pure (cared a lot for other people and wanted to genuinely help others, like restoring aura to Voleur). When she loses her aura at the end, she lost her innocence--Alistair pushed her into the ritual against her will and she was traumatized by it. Even though she didn't do anything wrong, her innocence was gone, and Voleur got nothing out of it.
This was based off of my experience of being sexually violated. The person who hurt me could tell I didn't want to do what he wanted me to (Alistair in the story seeing that Victoria was unwilling, saying "I won't do it if you don't want me to," and then doing it anyway). He got momentary enjoyment out of it; I was traumatized and was left in shock afterwards and, to this day, am still dealing with the aftereffects of what happened to me. "To Speak Again" was meant to show that, sometimes things happen and no good comes out of it: Victoria lost her aura, and Voleur didn't restore his. I was violated and hurt, and the guy who did it to me didn't get anything out of it. Part of why I wanted to include scenes from Victoria's POV so I could explore the resultant anxiety, betrayal, and depression that she had to deal with (but cut it out for contest limitation reasons).
I based Isa and her culture off of Pacific island cultures; story boards in particular are made on the island of Palau in real life, and they're considered exquisite works of art that go for a lot of money. Taotao Mo'na are spirits from Chamorro culture, the people of the Mariana Islands, and they can be hostile who intrude on native land or disrupt nature. "Hagan" is Chamorro for "turtle" and "Ayuyu" (pronounced A-dzoo-dzoo) is Chamorro for "coconut crab." And mango festivals are a real thing on Pacific Islands, as are festivals for other foods like peppers!
In this story, aura is representative of innocence/purity. Voleur lost his aura not only because of the Taotao Mo'na taking it away and enacting justice on him, but because he had willingly corrupted his own heart and chose greed and power over valuing the lives of others, and defiled his own purity in that sense. Victoria was someone who possessed aura because she was innocent (truly believing in the goodwill of everyone around her, and believing that nobody would want to hurt her) and was pure (cared a lot for other people and wanted to genuinely help others, like restoring aura to Voleur). When she loses her aura at the end, she lost her innocence--Alistair pushed her into the ritual against her will and she was traumatized by it. Even though she didn't do anything wrong, her innocence was gone, and Voleur got nothing out of it.
This was based off of my experience of being sexually violated. The person who hurt me could tell I didn't want to do what he wanted me to (Alistair in the story seeing that Victoria was unwilling, saying "I won't do it if you don't want me to," and then doing it anyway). He got momentary enjoyment out of it; I was traumatized and was left in shock afterwards and, to this day, am still dealing with the aftereffects of what happened to me. "To Speak Again" was meant to show that, sometimes things happen and no good comes out of it: Victoria lost her aura, and Voleur didn't restore his. I was violated and hurt, and the guy who did it to me didn't get anything out of it. Part of why I wanted to include scenes from Victoria's POV so I could explore the resultant anxiety, betrayal, and depression that she had to deal with (but cut it out for contest limitation reasons).
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