Chapter Text
The first thing she feels is warmth enveloping her, spreading through her body, emanating from something in her arms.
It worked, she thinks.
But what had worked? She tries to grasp at an answer, but all thoughts slip away, ducking into murky shadows, never to be seen again.
She opens her eyes, blinking a few times. It’s rather bright. Gradually, the fog clears from her vision, and she manages to make out the land in front of her.
Sand. Sand stretching across a wide expanse, like the deserts of…somewhere. The place doesn’t come to mind, try as she might.
Waves crashing against the sand. A large body of water comes into view, as she turns her head to the side. The ocean. She’s only seen the ocean…not many times. Her home is landlocked, so she’s mostly only ever swum in rivers.
It was at the river (which river?) that –
What happened at the river? She feels a strange sadness, just attempting to think about it.
She feels something shift against her arms, and realises she is holding something. It appears to be a candle, slightly more than half her height, if the way she is hugging it is any indication. A burning candle, at that - but the flames don’t hurt her, she realises.
A candle that just moved by itself. Or perhaps it was her imagination?
The candle moves again, this time visibly trying to push itself up. That is definitely enough reason for her to let go. Somehow, she isn’t particularly scared - a living candle is just that, a candle, without claws or corrosive breath or a petrifying gaze. Maybe with some fire magic. Which is destructive if used the right way, but otherwise is no more than a rudimentary spell, depending more on the might of the caster -
“U-ugh… What…”
The candle talks. Which is especially surprising to her for some reason. Like she hadn’t expected a living candle to also be capable of speech. Then again, it’s just a living candle, the first one she’s ever seen. (Probably?) Why wouldn’t it be able to speak? Or rather, why would it?
Then again, even humanoid monsters with mouths, teeth, tongues, everything, don’t speak intelligibly, not that she knows of. Reanimated corpses are…a whole other business that she isn’t going to delve into too deeply, no thank you. Not like she is actually able to think about it, when her thoughts are fleeting, more a feeling than a memory. Where did all that come from?
“Unhhh…”
The candle groans, flame flickering, as it attempts to push itself to an upright position. Right, she should probably help. Which she does, sitting up, then trying to stand on unsteady legs that almost seem too short, then holding the candle up as it shudders. She sees one eye flicker open. Violet, like the candle’s flame, and her heart aches.
“T-thank you…” The candle stutters. This all feels very familiar.
“It’s no trouble,” she replies, and the candle flinches. Its eye focuses on her, and it gasps.
“W-what are you?”
“A human, I think.” That’s what she remembers. It’s a fact.
“N-no offence, but that’s… not what a human looks like…”
But she has 2 arms, and 2 legs, and – oh. When she looks down, she finds pale arms and legs and a body that’s far too small, and decidedly not human. But that makes no sense. She’s human. It’s something she knows –
Or is it? She can’t trust her own memories, for they are gone. Every part of her knows this is wrong, expects to see something different if she blinks, or perhaps rubs her eyes; this all seems like the setup to an elaborate dream, down to the hazy feeling through her mind, the utterly surreal feel to it all. Any moment, she’ll wake up, and then… something comes after, probably.
“Then I don’t know. This…this isn’t my body…”
“R-right…” The candle turns away awkwardly, and she can see the beginnings of a luminescent blush.
“So, do you know how we got here?” She asks, trying to break the tension. The candle, instead, flinches.
“No…where even…”
“I don’t know either. I can’t remember anything from before I woke up just now. You?”
“...Same. Though, I must say, that’s a bold thing to admit.”
“It’s the truth. I genuinely don’t remember.”
“And you aren’t worried that I would use that information for nefarious purposes? To mislead you, perhaps?”
“Well, I can’t say I would have much to fear from a talking candle also suffering from amnesia.”
“I could be lying, you know,” is the reply, “It’s quite easy.”
Deep in her mind, she feels a phantom ache, a wave of guilt and grief, simply from hearing her companion point it out. She’s been here before, she’s made this mistake before, and it had destroyed something - no, everything she’d worked so hard for. “Are you, now?”
“I would say no, but you have no way of confirming it, so…” The candle smiles, a grim smile lacking in any humour or warmth. “Wait – a talking candle?”
“Is that not what you are?”
“No! I’m…human…probably? I can’t remember…” Her companion looks down, and in that instant, their face cycles through multiple emotions - shock, fear, confusion. “What am I?”
“A talking, living candle, I assume,” she replies. “So, I suppose we are the same, then? A human turned into something, with amnesia?”
“Perhaps.” The candle looks into the distance, out over the sea. “Our experiences seem to line up too well to be merely coincidence, though. This is getting suspicious.”
The sky is getting darker, and there is nothing but sand and sea around them, no food, potable water, anything. “Let’s get up and find some supplies. As bizarre as this situation is, we need to survive somehow.”
“Good idea. We’ll worry about how we got here later.”
She holds out a hand to her companion. “Shall we work together?”
“You’re way too trusting of someone you just met.”
“You know, you aren’t helping yourself with all your mixed messages. But we both need to work together to get through this, so I’m willing to put some faith in you.”
“I somehow feel like that’s a mistake, but okay. Then I won’t let you down.”
“Alright. I’m Eirika, probably human, definitely an amnesiac. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“...Lyon. Also probably a human, also amnesiac, knows what stranger danger is. The pleasure is mine.”
***
Walking along the beach, the two of them pass by a few gigantic crabs, blowing bubbles from their mouths.It’s a beautiful sight, the rays of the setting sun glinting off the bubbles, the reflection of the sun in the water, the sky tinted in many bright hues. Eirika would no doubt appreciate it more if the situation wasn’t so confusing.
Just a bit further ahead, the tips of what seems to be roofs peek out from above the trees. She can even see what appears to be a trail of smoke in the sky.
“A town,” Lyon says, visibly relieved. Their footsteps hasten. They reach the entrance of the town in a short time, where a pair of rabbit-like beings are standing, one red and one blue, one on each side.
“Stop!”
“Please wait!”
The rabbit guards shout in unison.
“Who’s there?” A voice calls from within the town, and Eirika can hear the sound of clanking metal.
“It’s, uh –” The blue rabbit flips through the book in their hands nervously. “Ralts and…and… Litwick!”
“Ralts and Litwick!” The red rabbit echoes.
The sounds grow closer. A gigantic monster covered in metal emerges, looming over all four of them.
“Good work, Plusle and Minun,” the metal monster says to the pair of rabbit creatures. “Now, who are you two?”
“I…we’re lost. We woke up on the beach, stranded here with no knowledge of who -” Lyon nudges her, probably trying to stop her from mentioning their situation to the metal monster, but she ignores him and opts to continue. “- of who we were, and how we got here. We only request shelter for the night, if it’s possible.”
The metal monster looks at the two of them disbelievingly, before finally sighing and moving aside. “You two, come with me. Plusle, Minun, stay here for the moment.”
“Yes, Sir Aggron!” The rabbit pair - Plusle and Minun, apparently - nod, before returning to their post.
***
“Literally right after I said that telling people we have amnesia is dangerous,” Lyon grumbles, as they lie down on the (thankfully heatproof) straw, preparing to turn in for the night. “Literally right after I say that, you tell a bunch of unfamiliar creatures we have amnesia and are completely vulnerable. What were you thinking?”
“That they would be willing to help us, since they appeared friendly enough. What else was I supposed to do, let them assume we were perfectly fine? The fact is that we don’t know anything about this world, and we do need help. Which they can only offer if they know about our situation, like how we now have a roof over our heads and a means of earning a living. Or would you be more amenable to struggling alone, trying to cover up our lack of knowledge, and endangering ourselves with no idea exactly what we’re getting into?” Eirika argues.
“You’re way too optimistic about this. We’re taking unnecessary risks by showing our weakness to others.”
“And you’re too pessimistic. We need to trust in others’ kindness in order to build the bonds we need to survive.”
Lyon rolls over with a huff. “I don’t dare to hope now. Wake me up when we get killed horrifically by these Pokey-monsters.”
“Wake me up when you learn what asking for help is. I like to sleep in, so that would be perfectly fine by me.”
***
She opens her eyes to a completely new landscape, for the second time in a day.
Do not worry. This is just a dream.
“Who are you?” She asks, looking around. That distinct wrongness in her body is gone – when she looks down, she sees familiar, human, hands and legs, feels the fabric against her skin, a familiar weight at her side – her sword, crackling with electricity. There is a distinct hum of power, buzzing beneath her feet and around her, in the pool she appears to be sitting in.
I am Zekrom, the storm of Ideals. And on the other side of this dreamscape…my twin, Reshiram, the flame of Truth.
A black dragon stands before her, pulsing with the energy of a stormcloud, radiating a powerful, unquestionably divine aura. And, reflected in the pool, instead of the black dragon, is a completely different white dragon, wreathed in flames. She notices her own reflection isn’t quite a perfect mirror of her either; but before she can look closer, the dragon speaks again, sending ripples across the water.
You have been brought to this world, riding on the hope of saving those close to you, to achieve your ideal world. That is something I value deeply. As the steward of Ideals, you have my blessing.
The most important reason I have for calling you here in your dreams, however, is to give you a warning. There will be many challenges ahead for you, obviously, but of great import is the fact that you may be asked to fight for, and save this world as well. You have another arduous journey ahead of you.
“I’m willing to do that. Whether by the will of the gods or not, we ought to protect whoever we can, regardless.”
That’s the spirit. Carry the hopes you have with you, your principles, your morals - and don’t let them die out. You aren't alone.
She watches the world around her fade to black, the waters rising, the storm growing more intense.
You must wake now. I will appear if necessary, I promise. I just have one last thing to add –
The sky around her darkens. In the reflection, she can see what appears to be an explosion of flame, a blinding white light.
Don’t forget –
She wakes up, back in the body of a Ralts, back in the small house she and Lyon now share, feeling as if she has forgotten something very important.
***
“Did you hear?”
“Oh, definitely. How could something like that happen?”
“To Snorlax, too! No one gets past Snorlax. He’s badly hurt…”
“If something like that were to happen to Princess Florges as well…”
“Is Snorlax alright?”
“I guess it’s good that the attacker didn’t know about the Holy Land. Still, why?”
“I hear it was a Gallade who did it…”