Chapter Text
Time has a way of bending and weathering perspectives. Nothing really mellows you out like a century or two of aimless wandering. It also has a way of really messing with your head, especially when you’ve lived much longer than any mortal ought to. Even so, Cynthia’s always prided herself on her pristine memory: if she put her mind to it, she could recall what she had for breakfast some 50 years prior.
That doesn’t stop her brain from grinding to a halt when she sees a boy so eerily familiar to her.
Now, she’s done the whole ‘doppelganger-slash-descendant’ dance before. You should’ve seen her when she first met Professor Rowan–oh how she had to stop herself from keeling over in laughter when she realized the mustache really does run in the family. But this? This was… different. Something about the boy’s gaze was just a bit too familiar. A little too warm, in spite of the fact that they’ve never met…
… right?
Call it a whim or a hunch, or just the sheer crushing loneliness that comes with being immortal, but Cynthia decides she wants to keep an eye on the boy. As far as she can tell, he’s a pretty good trainer, so she has no doubt he’ll make his way to the League eventually. Moreover, it’ll help to have an extra pair of capable hands when dealing with Team Galactic. So Cynthia watches and nudges from time to time, handing off an egg and a few precious little tidbits of ancient lore and almost-myths.
She’s always tried to do good by young trainers, ever since… she’s always tried to do good by them for her. As if it could make up for her mistakes. It never would, but it was a nice thought. At some point, Cynthia realized she actually liked involving herself in the adventures of up-and-coming trainers; she’s not entirely sure when, but maybe it was for the best. She couldn’t live solely for someone who’s been out of her life for the past 200-some-odd years, now could she? That just wasn’t healthy, or so her therapist tells her (jury’s still out on if they believe her or not).
But this boy… Cynthia can’t possibly place it, but there’s something that draws her to his side. It’s more than his passing resemblance, she quickly surmises. It’s a strange sort of kinship. A kinship she slowly pieces together, once they both finally slow down to chat at length one pleasant evening.
…
…
“... The quickest way to Canalave City is to go west from Jubilife City.” She pointed at his map.
“Okay. Thanks, Miss Cynthia!” The boy–’Lux’–replied.
“Just ‘Cynthia’ is fine, dear.” The champion chuckled softly. “‘Miss’ makes me feel old.” ‘And I’m old enough already.’ She finished her sentence in her head. Not like he had to worry about that.
Sheepishly, he smiled back. “R-right. Cynthia.” It was as if he was tasting her name on her tongue, absent the topping that was any title like ‘miss’ or ‘champion.’ Evidently, it didn’t taste horrible, if the widening of his lips was anything to go by. “Guess I’m headed to Canalave now… maybe it’s unfair to ask the champion, but any tips about the gym leader there?” He posed, hopeful optimism gleaming in his gaze.
To anyone else, Cynthia probably would’ve teased back and sent them on their way already. But for Lux… she dug around in her head to say something substantial about the gym and its leader. “Let’s see… Byron’s a stern sort, not unlike his Pokemon. You may have heard, but he’s Roark’s father–he’s raised children and Pokemon both, making him just as wise in life as he is in battling.” She tapped her chin as she thought some more. “I daresay, if you’re looking for a role model, you could do worse. I know a lot of boys who say they wanna grow up to be ‘just like Mr. Byron someday!’”
She looked to Lux, and he frowned. Just for a moment, but there was no mistaking it, even in the twilight. A twinge of uncertainty shot through Cynthia. Something about what she said had irked him, though she hadn’t the faintest idea why. Not until he started speaking again, that is.
“U-uh, yeah, heard he’s… real manly and all that.” He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, as though even mentioning masculinity put him ill at ease. Was he afraid he couldn’t measure up? Not uncommon in boys his age… “Barry mentioned him alongside all his ‘super-dude-ly idols.’ He still likes Mr. Wake the best, though. I… can’t really see what he sees in all of that.”
Cynthia tilted her head curiously. “All of that… what?”
Lux shrugged. “I dunno… dude stuff, I guess? I mean, I think it’s dude stuff. You wouldn’t get it–I barely do! Honestly, Barry and I never really meshed much on our interests outside of Pokemon… and even then, I always thought maybe he was a bit narrow-minded? I mean, the last time I even mentioned contests, he looked at me like I’d grown a second head!” The boy sighed, exhausted by the mere memory. “Sometimes I wonder how we’re even friends…”
Cynthia was a smart woman. This wasn’t just her tooting her own horn, you had to be smart to avoid being outed as an immortal trouble-maker for over two centuries (minus that one misstep some few decades ago). So, with multiple lifetimes of knowledge and wisdom at her back–not to mention personal experience– it wasn’t long before she started connecting some dots.
Now, anyone could do contests. Some of her closest friends were accomplished male contest coordinators. Wallace’s flamboyant nature aside, you didn’t need to be girly to participate in contests. But Lux seemed fixated on ‘dude stuff,’ as he so eloquently put it. He reacted negatively when the prospect of learning from Byron’s ‘manliness’ was presented. She couldn’t help but wonder… hm. Best to sit on that for now, perhaps. Besides, maybe Cynthia was just reading too far into things; that was her biggest vice, after all. Reading too much for her own good and all.
“Well, I’m certain you’ll still pick something up just from battling him. If nothing else, he’ll make for a formidable opponent.” Cynthia shifted the gear of the conversation towards something lighter. “I’m confident in you, though. You’ve made it this far, and I’m excited to see just how much further you’ll go.”
Lux blushed visibly, averting his gaze. “Thanks Mi– Cynthia.” He corrected himself mid-sentence. “It means a lot, really. I–I still can’t really believe I get to talk with you like this…”
“Oh?” She grinned slightly, regarding the boy with a hint of mischief. “Is someone a fan? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised…”
Chuckling nervously, Lux managed a slight nod. “I, uh… I used to have mom record all your battles for me to watch when I got home from school…”
Cynthia had to cover her mouth, if only to stop from embarrassing him further with her widening smirk. “It’s nice to know I appeal to such a wide audience. Just try and keep your head on the ground instead of in the clouds when we meet at the League. Too many boys swooning over me forget where they are and cut their challenges short before the battle gets good…” She teased.
A mixture of emotions shot across Lux’s face. Shock, embarrassment, and… disappointment? The lattermost was buried beneath the others, but Cynthia had centuries of reading people–too many to let that slip past. “I-I won’t! I promise… I have too much respect for you to let you down. I’ll finish my gym challenge, and come at you with everything I’ve got!” There was something else on the tip of his tongue before all of that, but it was washed away beneath his declaration.
Cynthia responded with a genuine smile, briefly forgetting what she’d seen on his expression. “I’m already looking forward to it.”
…
…
Arceus was laughing at her, she swore it.
200 years past any mortal lifespan wasn’t enough, the company of her thoughts and wrongdoings weighing on her conscious all the while. No, the creator just had to rub salt in the wound with this mess. At least the Distortion World, for all its backwards logic, was as welcoming as ever. That much would never change.
Cynthia wouldn’t lie, the prospect of confronting her old co-conspirator had her worried. Two centuries had passed, and yet what was that to a deity? If Cynthia still remembered the sting of their failure, then so did Giratina. The irony of the situation was not lost on her… nor was the fact that Giratina had chosen to protect this world, rather than destroy it, as they had in times long past. She knew as much from back then, too; how Giratina’s heart had changed. They took much less convincing that she– he– did. She had that effect on people… even if it took Cynthia a bit longer than everyone else to come around.
Lux, as ever, greeted everything with a starry-eyed enthusiasm. Even in this other world, bereft of the logic and laws of his own, he still seemed excited. Millions of questions seemed to bubble at his throat, yet he only voiced the ones that always ended up requiring the most succinct answers. How very her of him.
‘Enough of that.’ She told herself as they traversed an upside-down waterfall (or were they merely upside-down, and the waterfall the right side up? Who could say?). ‘Lux is his own person–let the past lie, woman…’ The problem with having two centuries of thoughts was that it was painfully easy to get lost in them. Luckily, for the time being, Cynthia managed to shake them off.
Just long enough for them to run into Cyrus.
While the champion had resolved to take on the madman herself, Lux had surprised her by stepping forward first. This had been her first time really seeing him fight, and to be honest? She wanted to see more. Short of battling him straight-up, she could watch him fight all day. Something about the way he and his team coordinated just seemed so natural. So earnest.
So her.
Cyrus faltered at the last, unable to withstand the tidal wave that was Lux. He spouted some more drivel about the world ending should he confront Giratina, but she knew better. She advised him to put Cyrus’s venomous words out of his mind, and instead focus on meeting Giratina’s challenge. It was clear, they saw something in the boy. Maybe it was the same thing she saw in him. Whatever it was, it helped dampen the cold shiver that ran down her spine when Giratina met her gaze.
There was a different kind of kinship between them. Two lost souls, scorned by Arceus–in very different ways, mind you, but they had found united purpose oh so long ago. Water under the bridge now, and given how Giratina didn’t lunge at her in anger, she figured things between them were probably laid to rest. No hard feelings, and all that. Again, it was a joy to see Lux at work, his whole team keeping up with the Antimatter Pokemon and then some.
Even though it wasn’t her own, the exhilaration of watching that Pokeball shake thrice and end with a satisfying click was all too real. Pride swelling in her chest, Cynthia clapped for Lux’s great achievement, even as the bitter Cyrus returned for one final word. Silently, she wondered if he was doomed to embark on a similar journey as she had for her transgressions, or if he’d be fated to fade away into the obscurity of the Distortion World. Whatever destiny awaited him, it was none of her concern. Cynthia had finished her penance, it was not her place to preside over others while they saw to their own. No, her place was opposite to Lux’s, to await his ascension at the top of the Pokemon League.
She bade him farewell and took off, an anticipatory grin upon her face. When next they met, he’d be poised to take her title. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.
…
…
One magnificent battle later, and that was that. History made, and Cynthia was proud to be a part of it. Sinnoh’s newest champion had been crowned, and he’d earned every last accolade that came with that.
“... Again, congratulations.” Cynthia turned to her successor, beaming with pride. “I don’t think I’ve had such a good battle in all my life.” Maybe it wasn’t her grandest battle, but Cynthia hadn’t lied: that fight? It felt good. It still felt good. Cathartic, somehow. She still couldn’t place why, though.
“Indeed! I daresay, even your crowning clash would be hard-pressed to compete!” Professor Rowan, who’d been waiting for them both, commented. “Ah, to watch the young blossom as they do… I’m truly privileged to have seen you both become the trainers you are today.” The now-former champion had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Best not to burst his bubble; she’d hardly started her journey as Cynthia on an even playing field as her ‘peers.’
(As irritating as it had been the first couple times, Cynthia always ended up thanking Arceus for the small mercy of letting her grow up again every so often. Made blending in all the easier… and forging identities even more so.)
“And I, you.” Cynthia eyed Lux again. The boy had been stuck in a reverent silence, but he shrunk slightly under her gaze. “I look forward to seeing what kind of a champion you’ll be, Lux.”
“Thank you.” The boy managed to reply. “I’ll do my best!” Again she could see something in his eyes, some burning question he wanted–nay, needed to ask–but it wouldn’t come out. Not yet, not here, not now. They’d have to make time later.
“You already have.” Cynthia reminded him. “But don’t be afraid to keep growing. Know that I’ll take a rematch any time, if you’re willing. Can’t let either of us grow rusty.” He just answered her with a toothy grin, one that tickled her heart…
… and left a slight ache deep inside of it. ‘Why?’
She knew why. Every day, he just reminded her more and more of her. It was maddening. But she kept her lips sealed–it’s not as if it’d mean anything to him, or anyone else. Those thoughts were hers, and hers alone. Her burden to lug through the passing centuries. He couldn’t help it if his smile was as bright as hers was.
Maybe that was the reason Cynthia invited him to her quaint Villa, away from the hubbub of typical society. Cynthia often mused just how much it reminded her of Cogita’s little getaway, even if it was less removed from society than the old lorekeeper’s was. Still, it was quiet, cozy, and most importantly? No one here bothered her about her status as champion (present or former), so it was a good place to go when she needed a clear head.
“Woah…” Lux took to the place pretty nicely, mostly in awe of how he was standing in his idol’s abode. His little starstruck fanboy moments never ceased to amuse her.
“Not too much? I always thought it was a bit big, until I realized so much of my team enjoyed lounging about indoors as much as I do.” Cynthia reclined on the sofa, her Garchomp draping herself over the back with a lazy grin. “Please, make yourself at home.” In spite of that invitation, Lux was as stiff as a board when he finally took a seat. She flicked on her TV (luckily tuned to a documentary and not the news, they both needed a break from the media) and let it run for a bit, enjoying the domestic air of it all.
Of course, it didn’t last forever. While Cynthia herself had no concrete reason to invite him (besides telling him that he had free reign of the digs, so long as he didn’t mind sharing them at odd intervals), she couldn’t help but wonder what was on his mind. It was only natural to be jittery, given the weight of his recent accomplishments… but something told Cynthia that this was different.
Maybe it was the way he played with his cap, which he’d pulled off at some point, or the way his palms seemed to glisten in the light from the screen. He was anxious about something, a personal something. Something he thought Cynthia could help with… or so she hoped. Thus she resolved to give him a space to meet her on equal footing, so-to-speak. A chance to speak his heart, to tear down some of the barriers between the two of them. No idols, no rising stars… just Cynthia and Lux. Two trainers, equal.
It took a while, and an uncomfortable silence, but eventually he managed to speak up.
“Uhm… Cynthia?” He asked, his voice small and his eyes seemingly glued to his hands.
“Hm?” She turned her head towards him, moving slowly as if he were a frightened prey Pokemon ready to retreat at a moment’s notice. Turning the TV down to a dull hum, she gave him her undivided attention.
“I… nevermind.” He faltered, looking to a corner opposite of her.
“Please, Lux, speak. We’re friends, right?”
“Huh?” The boy whipped his head around, boggling slightly as if he’d heard her wrong.
“I said, we’re friends, aren’t we? Friends can tell each other stuff.” Cynthia crossed her legs in her seat, her partner Pokemon shifting to put her lumbering noggin in her lap. “You’ve had something on your mind for a while, I think. Long before the League, Spear Pillar… even Celestic town, right?”
His eyes widened, but to his credit, Lux didn’t shrink immediately. “... y-yeah. How’d you…?”
She flashed him a smile and a wink. “Intuition. I meet a lot of young trainers, and you tend to pick up on the little stuff when you work with people as much as I do.”
A soft chuckle of agreement left him, right before more silence. She let it hang, however, as she could plainly see he was busy gathering his thoughts. “... I’ve… I’ve been thinking a lot. About… stuff.”
“... Stuff?” Cynthia parroted, prompting him to continue with a nod.
“Y-yeah. Stuff like… what we talked about back in Celestic. Dude stuff, and… stuff." He seemed to sink in his seat as he sighed in frustration. “I just… have you ever felt you didn’t fit in? Like, in general? Big or little stuff, like the mold just wasn’t the right one?”
‘Oh, more than you know.’ She thought. “Of course. You don’t get to where I am today by being exceptionally normal, I’ll tell you that much. Forgive me if I’m probing too deeply, but… I have a hunch, and it might help to hear someone else say it rather than forcing you to squeeze it out.” She leaned forward a bit, mustering her own thoughts and suspicions that had gradually been building since they met. “You feel like… you don’t ‘fit in’ with the dude stuff.”
Lux stiffened for a moment, then nodded very slightly. He wasn’t meeting her eyes.
“Right. So, dude stuff isn’t for you. What about… girl stuff? Cute clothes, makeup, shopping, being emotionally open with your friends–which most guys could do to practice themselves, honestly–how does that all sound?”
The boy across from her swallowed, wetting his lips before speaking. “... I–I’d like that. I wanna do stuff like that. I… like cute stuff. Pretty stuff.” He winced, as if it physically hurt to say the words. Yet, in the immediate aftermath, he almost seemed relieved. The next words were lighter, softer; devoid of the weight keeping everything else before them in. “I like pretty stuff. I wanna be…”
“... Pretty?” Cynthia finished for Lux.
A firm nod.
“So you wanna be pretty. You don’t like dude stuff… do you feel uncomfortable being seen as a ‘dude?’ Guy, man, male: do any of these feel wrong at all?”
Lux thought for only a moment. Then, another nod. “... yeah. All of ‘em.” Again, soft words left, but they weren’t drowning in silent agony anymore.
“Tell me then, Lux…” Cynthia gently nudged Garchomp’s head off her lap, scooting across the sofa to sit as close to the other trainer as possible. “What was it that you admire about me? Is it my strength, my fame… or my appearance? Was it how ‘cool’ I look, or is it deeper than that? Was it my clothes, or my gender?”
“What makes you comfortable to be seen as?”
Lux squeezed his(?) eyes shut, as if physically grappling with the words forming in their throat.
“I–” A gulp of air, then a long, drawn-out exhale… “I–I think I–... ‘mma guh…” An ungraceful mumble escaped, but Cynthia wouldn’t let that spark die out.
“You’re… what?” Carefully, she laid her hands atop Lux’s clammy ones, calming their anxious self-wringing. “It’s okay if you’re not ready to say it… but I think you are. I think you have been for such a long time now.”
Silence again. Then, Lux’s head raised, eyes cloudy. “I–”
“I wahnt peopuh to–to see me ahs… ahs a girl. I’m uh girl…!” Lux finally choked out, tears rolling down her cheeks… but a grin forming just below them.
Cynthia gave the girl a soft, almost motherly smile. “Then I’m happy to finally meet you. The real you.”
At that, Lux fully broke down, She all but lunged forward, burying her face in Cynthia’s shirt. The former champion didn’t even flinch, slipping a hand behind the other trainer’s head and rubbing soft circles with her thumb. Happy, emotionally-laden tears quickly damped the both of them, falling like waterfalls from the sheer weight of everything Lux had been bottling up.
“I–Ahm–” Lux couldn’t speak through her own sobs, but she didn’t need to at the moment.
“Shhh, it’s okay… let it out, you’ve been holding it for so long, so just let it out.” She whispered, to which Lux replied with more soft sobs. She could tell the girl was smiling, though, even through it all. What an amazing girl she was.
Idly, Cynthia thought to herself… just what would he think of all this? Her younger, stupider self: what would he make of this scene? Truthfully, it didn’t matter. He was dead and buried. All that mattered was the here and now, with this amazing, awe-inspiring young lady who’d just conquered the Pokemon League and, perhaps, overcome the greatest challenge of her life; admitting who she really was.
Cynthia finally knew what that kinship was between them. More than two trainers who lived for the thrill of battle, who loved Pokemon with all their hearts, they were but two girls who took a little longer than every other girl to realize as such.
Her old self was gone. As for Lux's…
The girl’s sobs had quieted into sniffles, the backs of her hands rubbing at her eyes as she pulled away, yet lingering in Cynthia’s space. She was a mess, but Lux looked happier than ever. That blindingly-bright smile was back, and Cynthia couldn’t help but reciprocate it.
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah… snff–” Nose-rubs commenced, the girl no doubt embarrassed that she’d probably dribbled snot all over her idol. “I–Ahm still–”
“I’d be surprised if you were all put-together after that, honestly.” A reassuring pat on the head coaxed a fresher grin out of the younger trainer. “Now, Lux… actually, it’s not a bad name, but–have you considered changing it at all?” The girl looked up at her, big, beady, cloudy eyes mildly questioning. “It’s not required by any means.” Cynthia clarified, figuring that it ought to be said. “Still, if ‘Lux’ carries too much weight from your time as a boy, you can always change it.”
Lux nodded slowly, the gears in her head turning. “... I… I think I’d like that. Actually, I uh… my mom told me a name she would’ve chosen ‘if I were a girl,’ and every time I thought about using it I always got Beautiflies in my stomach, ehe.” The girl rubbed the back of her neck again, as he was so wont to do. Now that she thought about it, that gesture was also painfully familiar…
“Oh? Do share.” Cynthia planted her chin in her palms and her elbows on her knees, leaning on them for their first “”girl talk.””
The girl sucked in a breath, met Cynthia’s gaze with a twinkle in her eyes, and spoke.
“Dawn.”
Cynthia’s expression was warm. “That’s a beautiful name. You should tell her when you get home… she deserves to meet her daughter.”
Dawn squeezed her arms over her torso, her voice hitching slightly–already pretty feminine, too–as she looked up to the former champion with a somewhat hesitant glint. “Yeah… I guess I’m just..”
“From what we’ve talked about, she’ll love you no matter what. And, in case you’re worried… you can always come back here.” Cynthia’s smile gained a playful edge as she nudged the teen. “Girls like us gotta stick together, right?”
Dawn blinked, then blinked again, and then a few more times before her eyes widened like the world’s largest dinner platters when Cynthia shot her a little wink.
“You have a lot more in-common with your idol than you think.”
Sputtering, Dawn couldn’t quite find the words to reply. So, instead, she threw her arms back around Cynthia for a proper hug. The champion took the embrace and returned it fully, patting the girl on the back.
“I’m so glad you’ve found yourself.”
They chatted at length for the rest of the evening, mostly about the various resources Dawn ought to follow up on in the morning. Until then, she was free to stay over; in spite of the girl’s reluctance, Cynthia lent her the bed and took the couch. As she settled in for the night and Dawn’s soft snoozing filled the villa, Cynthia finally allowed herself to let out a deep sigh. Her immaculate poker-face slipped, and with it, she felt her hands begin to quake uncontrollably. Garchomp sensed her unease and nuzzled softly into her trainer, but the mire of dreadful thoughts persisted throughout the night.
She didn’t want to believe it. There was no way, right? Impossible.
But there was only one other person, in all of time and space, that had used that name with Cynthia before. One strange, sad girl, ripped from her home and stranded in a strange land, with big doleful eyes exactly like hers , that same, sweet, whispery tone, and that blinding, beaming smile–so pure and untainted by life’s evils.
Cynthia cursed herself, trying and failing to stop the memory from flowing. That fateful night, two hundred years past, on the eve of his great betrayal… Akari had spoken freely.
To him, she had said over the open campfire: “My name… my real name… it’s Dawn.”
Clamping her eyes shut, Cynthia threw a blanket over her head and hoped the darkness would swallow her whole. If Giratina were merciful, they would snatch her right up out of that darkness and tear her out of Dawn’s life before any more damage could be done. But she knew the truth. The damage was yet to come, and there was nothing she could do about it…
… Because Volo had already done it.