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✧✧
The soft glow of the morning light shines through the window, washing over the pages of the tome in front of me. The room muffles the ever familiar bustle of South Boulevard, only inches away.
‘Legendary pokémon, an illusive and powerful group of beings that remain a mystery to us, even now. Were it not for the works of Dr. Frederick Laventon, it is very likely that we would not know much about them now. Yet there is still little we know in regards to the true extent of their abilities and latent potential. What makes these pokémon so powerful?’
‘In studying various ruins across Sinnoh and beyond, we have found what very well may be the dregs of an answer. For reasons unknown, the ancient Celestica people revered certain pokémon as gods. Two such pokémon we know today as Palkia and Dialga– deities representing Space and Time. Other tales tell of beings that control more abstract concepts, such as Dreams and Nightm–’
“Bonjour, Stella!” The well-dressed lab assistant interrupts my focus, taking the chair opposite me. “What are you reading? ‘Ancient Legends of Sinnoh and Beyond’ – I don’t think I’ve seen this volume on any of the shelves in the study.”
“Heh, good morning to you too, Sina.” I greet my energetic friend, “Dr. Rowan gave it to me as a gift for the Professor before sending me off. I knew he’d bury himself in it before I could get a chance to read it otherwise, so I decided to… give it a little time."
“I can’t say I’m surprised. You know, at this rate, you’ll start going grey before Augustus.” Her smirk betrays her words, “You've been home from Sinnoh for less than a day! You deserve a little time off, non?”
“Well, if I do, you get the honor of helping me cover it up~”
“You’d have to take a day off for that, and when is that going to happen, hm?”
“Point taken.” She isn’t wrong. A day off would do me well, but there’s a lot to do and even more to research. “But if I don’t get this book done soon, Dr. Rowan may ask him about it before I get a chance to finish…”
Sina stands up out of the chair, stretching backwards, “Mmhg– Fine, fine! But you have to make time for lunch later; there’s this new café in Centrico Plaza I want to try.”
“Sounds great.” I smile up at her, “I’ll meet you there, say… noon?”
“Not a moment later! It’d be rude to keep your beautiful best friend waiting, after all.” She walks up the stairs to the elevator before spinning back around, “Text me when you get there, okay?”
“Mhm!” I say, refocusing on the book still open in front of me. I drag my finger down the rough feeling page to where I last left off– that was the end of the last paragraph… Ah, here!
‘Some believe there is a correlation to this strange concentration of power in the region. Though few in number, documented migration patterns of legendary pokémon support this theory. One such paper, authored by Dr. Samuel Oak, reports the presence of Kantonian legends in Sinnoh, nesting in the Coronet Highlands. Additionally, reports of the birds appearing in Kalos exist as far back as five hundred years. These appearances may allude to some currently unknown connection between the two regions.'
Stories about the birds here in Kalos are pretty widespread, so that's no surprise. Would residual energy from the Ultimate Weapon firing have something to do with it? I should talk to the professor about getting clearance for the Geosenge dig site.
'Another duo of avian pokémon that share this migratory trait are Latios and Latias. While often associated with the Hoenn region, the Oblivian Archipelago is one such region to have reported sightings of these two. Sinnoh is one of many other likely nesting locations; currently, there are numerous studies underway to prove this theory, but thus far, none are conclusive.'
Interesting, I've heard the names before, but can't say I know a lot about them. They seem a lot more widespread than other legendaries too... Why?
'Latios and Latias, despite the individual capabilities of both, are a bonded pair. One is never far from the other. Researchers, dubbing them sibling pokémon, believe this is why they often migrate together.'
“A-ah, right…” Luckily, nobody is around to hear me. Focusing on the next passage does nothing; I can’t help but stare at the words, rereading them over and over in my head.
'...Sibling pokémon…'
A moment passes before I can stop to take note of the page. Closing the book, I slide it into my leather bag on the table in front of me. A letter addressed to me peaks out, edges worn and frayed from a few years of shifting around from purse to satchel.
Tapping my finger against the side of it slides it back into its ever-present resting place.
I should go for a walk instead. Sina is right, I need a break. A quick one, to clear my mind and get some fresh air; I could get a coffee. Yeah, some coffee’s all I need– something small from Café Soleil as a pick-me-up! I’ve got a few hours to clear until lunch anyway.
The loud, grating scrape of metal against stone hurts my ears as I propel the chair backwards into the wall. I sling the bag around my shoulder in one singular motion. Okay, yeah; this should be nice! A stroll to stretch my legs a little and take in that oh-so-fresh Kalosian air I’ve missed so much.
The door closes behind me with the jingle of a little, brass bell– it's always reminded me of the best parts of Laverre. A gentle breeze carries the scents of pine trees and fresh pastries from one of the many nearby cafés.
Sycamore sure did pick a lovely spot to set up shop. I take it all in with a deep breath.
“Ahhh… I should get something sweet to go with the coffee; I deserve a little treat~” I say out loud. My musing grabs the brief, idle glance of a businessman walking past the lab. One of the Devon Corporation’s newest Rotom phones floats alongside him, frantic voices resounding from a call in progress.
Up until a few years ago, you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who didn’t own a Holo Caster. After the Team Flare incident, production ceased, and the creator– Lysandre Labs– shuttered. Devon took their place almost immediately, sprouting into a tech giant overnight.
As he passes by, I walk down the flight of worn, wooden stairs leading away from the building. The busy streets, the diverse architecture, and the aged stone roads all feel so comfortable to me now. Almost like there's a piece of undiscovered history to find around every corner.
In my three years living here, it's started to feel more like home to me than Laverre had in a very long time.
Setting my sights forward, I amble through the city I love to put my mind at ease.
✧✧
The biggest downside to Lumiose's infamy as a titanic city is that 'down the road’ is a very wide range. I like to think Café Soleil is a hop and a skip away– a few minutes, tops; but in reality, it's a two mile trek from the lab. Not that I mind it, of course. On days like this, it's worth the distance.
Though the traffic is a very close second.
“Oh, excuse me– sorry–” Pardoning my way through the swarm of tourists and natives alike is slowing me down. At this rate, by the time I get there, I’ll have to turn around and leave to meet with Sina...
Guess it’s time for the scenic route!
Up until last year, I was one of the lab's few interns– after all, Sycamore is very particular. Finishing my education on the opposite side of the city meant I had to find quick, easy ways to get from one end to the other. The alleys and winding streets of the inner city are perfect for that. They’re confusing enough that most people tend to avoid them, but I suppose I'm not quite the average person.
A mile down this road until I pass the boutique… then turn down the first alley on the right– no, the second? Ugh, it’s been too long. I want to say it’s the second, though.
My trip to Sinnoh to work with Dr. Rowan was only four months, but it feels like I was gone for far longer. Long enough for me to second guess my own shortcuts, at least.
The shade from the rows of towering buildings around me makes the breeze feel five degrees cooler than when I had first left the lab. Paired with the lack of impatient people shoving each other to get around, this is exactly what I needed!
Uneven rows of chiseled cobblestone shape the pathways that connect the city together– a foundation for a different way of living. Back here, small gardens thrive, their worn iron fences protecting strange, black lilies. Wild starlings drink cool, crystal clear water from the massive stone fountain in a nearby courtyard. As much as I love the main city, nothing beats this. It's like I cross the threshold into a different world.
A group of eight or so boys– from the University, I'd guess– walk down the street opposite me as I get close to the first alley. Passing them by, I glance through the crowd and down the path, catching the briefest sheen of blue hair, the same as mine...
I stop in my tracks. That's not possible.
Is it?
Of all the thoughts racing through my mind right now, the only one repeating is part of that passage from the book. 'One is never far from the other.' Swallowing the lump in my throat, I run down the alley.
These paths are unfamiliar, the distance between buildings is more narrow and tight, but I don't care. I don't stop moving– I can’t stop moving. The tall, stocky silhouette guides me further and further into the depths of the city. Could that be him? After all this time, right under my nose?
The back roads turn into a bizarre stone labyrinth. Thin corridors lead me down crossroads and turns that I don't bother memorizing. Struggling against me, the metal clasp on my shoulder strap snaps, throwing my bag against a wall. A deep thud reverberates down the halls.
"Mist!" I call out desperately as he turns the corner, "Stop, it's me!"
Taking the last turn, I run headfirst into a poorly lit dead-end; the sunlight barely scraping the top of the buildings. This whole time, was I just seeing things? Chasing after an imaginary shadow of my brother? The only thing nearby is a loose piece of paper; looks like an old poster–
My heart sinks and my pulse quickens.
Picking up the worn flier, an ornately dressed man with long, flowing ice blue hair stares back at me– a man whose face I never wanted to see again.
“Why... Why did it have to be you of all people?" My voice cracks, “Now of all times, when I finally had some kind of hope, it had to be you.”
The younger, spirited expression of my Father draped in the regal rose gold liveries of his Champion’s garb silently stares back at me. ‘Silas Cauchemar, The Sterling King of Kalos,’ it reads. That horrible, smug look on his face, masquerading as a smile–
"You couldn't accept what you had left, could you? You bastard..." What a stark difference. The dead-eyed, graying husk I left behind doesn’t resemble the man on the poster in the slightest. This once familiar, glimmering man– murdered by the thing that used to be my Father.
“After Mom… You were all we had left.” The damp paper crumples, tearing through the middle. “But we were never enough for you. No, you had to have your pride. Your title was all that mattered, right?!” My cry echoes down the alley.
A beat passes, as if I were waiting for an answer.
“...What am I even doing?” I huff, my voice ragged as the reality of my actions sets in, “I’m screaming at a scrap of paper! Get a grip, Stella…”
No matter how much I yell, the poster is still a poster, and his shadow is still just a shadow. Neither are the real person in flesh and blood; not that my words would be worth anything to him, anyway. The leftover scraps crush neatly into a little ball to toss aside.
Standing still for a moment to catch my breath, I catch sight of the bag that broke during my sprint– that satchel was brand new too, I can’t believe the clip snapped that easily. That’ll teach me to trust a price tag.
Ugh, everything got tossed around; the book, my phone and keys– what a mess. I reach down to grab my phone, but the screen is completely shattered. No response from it, either. Figures. There goes part of my next paycheck… I suppose I could ask Sina if she has an older one laying around somewhere, but I wouldn’t bank on it.
Luckily, the book landed flat on its back. It doesn't look like it got damaged or anything, either. Phew, I don't want to know how either Professor would react if it did... That should be everything. Fumbling through my bag, nothing appears to me missing– Wait.
The letter!
“No, no, no, come on–” Darting glances up and down the alleyway, I finally spot it, still in good condition. Or as good condition as it could be, at least.
“Whoo–” I exhale, relieved. The ragged paper feels like cheap scraps of cloth in my hands, despite it still being unopened after all this time. My thumb delicately traces the outline of my name, written on the front in black ink. That handwriting, the harshness of the line crossing the T… He wrote this…
I desperately want to open it– for two years I’ve been holding onto it– but at the same time, I’ve always been scared to know what it says.
No matter how much I try to push it away, the distant memory of that day– of my Father, arguing with my brother– haunts me. Somehow, the man in that poster and the one that disowned his own son over a single loss are one in the same.
Even though the opportunities I have, the friends I’ve met, and the life I’ve made for myself here– on my own, away from that man– are all so, so important to me, I can’t help but wish I ran after him that day. Called out to him instead of staying silent.
His words, what he wanted me to know so long ago, are written here… I can’t help but hesitate for a moment, but slowly, I glide my finger under the adhesive with ease, the glue giving away with the most miniscule amount of effort. Inside the envelope are a letter and a photo.
I make sure my grip is as soft as it would handling an older book, making sure not to rip the paper more than it already has.
‘Stell, in case you haven’t received any of my other letters, I want you to know that I’m okay, and that Salem and I are both healthy.’
My hands begin to shake; relief that he’s doing okay, anger with my Father resurfacing– it’s hard to say which is stronger. Has he really been writing to me this whole time…?
‘We’ve been wandering from place to place, working odd jobs where I can find them. There was this sketchy club in Cyllage that had me work as a bouncer one night in exchange for a free meal and some cash– it wasn’t the safest spot (had to toss a few creeps out) but the views from the cliff sides were to die for.
One day, I’ll take you there.
I’ve been saving up whatever little scraps of money I can scrape between working and making sure we aren’t sleeping outside – you’d think feeding a single Umbreon wouldn’t be too expensive, you would be wrong. But maybe I’ll leave Kalos, at least for the time being, maybe not. If I do, it sure won’t be a nice flight, but a cheap seat to Johto is better than nothing.
Can’t say it’ll feel right though, not when I know I’d be leaving you behind again.
I’m not sure where we’ll end up, but I wanted to send at least one last letter while I still can. If you hate me after leaving the way I did, I understand, but just like always, I hope you know how much I love you, and that I’m sorry.
Probably should’ve sent you a copy of the picture (I just know the old bastard is throwing these away), but you deserve the original far more than I do. Besides, for once, I have a good feeling this will find its way to you.
Eventually, at least.
Miss you always,
Mist’
Tears like rain drip from my cheeks and onto the slightly crumpled paper, staining it a darker gray than it had already become from the years of wear. Black ink bleeds down the page, smearing the words.
Behind the letter, a photo of my brother and I when we were kids – a few years before Mom died. Stupid… How could I ever hate you…? Chuckles part through my sobs; there’s still a chance he’s here in Kalos, I can still find him. Tucking the memory gently into my pocket, I wipe my eyes and smile wide.
“When I catch up to you, I’m gonna hold you to that promise.”
