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Sweat drips off the tip of Merril’s nose and the sun’s heat lays across his shoulders like a blanket. Even the wide brim of his hat cannot keep the light from shattering across his vision. It doesn’t help that he’s looking up. The Sigilyph sways in the air and the colorful patterns on its wings shine with fresh paint. It pauses in its patrol rounds to pay attention to Merril and now he can see what it circles around. Blending into the stretches of golden sand is a sunken tower. Without Minccino’s sharp eyes he might have missed it.
The Sigilyph floats up to him and Merril allows it to circle him thrice before he gets moving, boots leaving golden imprints that disappear behind them. Minccino chirps curiously as he finds what might be a window instead of a door. Merril traces the intricate stone carvings with gentle hands as Minccino assists with removing the sand and debris with its tail. Together, they make a paper impression of the swirling designs while Sigilyph watches on with one solemn eye. When they are done, it hovers close to look.
Soft light envelops the paper. Merril holds his breath as the Sigilyph floats a perfect replica of their impression, smudges and all, into its own body with a soft popping noise. Then it flies through the window and waits. With trembling hands, Merril eases himself over the threshold. Heat vanishes. Sigilyph begins to fly away and with Minccino on his shoulder, Merril follows.
Cool air, undisturbed for centuries, preserves the intricate tapestries lining the walls, the color as brilliant and unfaded as Sigilyph’s own body. Merril has no time to appreciate these wonders. Sigilyph blurs ahead of him, leading him through twists and turns, past grand doors with beautifully carved arches and windows.
When Sigilyph stops, the movement is so sudden that Merril nearly crashes into it. A quick pulse of psychic energy puts him back on his feet. Merril wobbles. He tries to steady himself as Minccino fusses with his hair and hat, putting both back to rights. But when he looks up, he loses his breath. Merril’s gasp echoes throughout the vast room as he gazes around. He sees looming shelves and a vast library in perfectly pristine condition. Ladders lay against bookshelves so tall it would take a lifetime to read, and nearby tables are full with precariously stacked books. Golden sunlight from the window gilds everything his eyes fall upon.
In a room this silent, Merill can hear his own heartbeat.
The glow emitting from Sigilyph is what turns his attention away from the library. He watches the memory of his impression float once again from Sigilyph’s body and rise to a high point. It disappears inside a book on one of the shelves. The implications leave Merril with vertigo. His legs give out and he hits the ground, bumping a table along the way. An old book falls beside him with a thump and the pages flutter open.
Silver light floods the room.
On the page is an illustration so rich with light it glows off the page.
An icy comet streaking across the starry sky.
✦✧✦
It’s unbearably cold. Even starlight felt like frozen pinpricks of light traveling across Sterling’s skin. When Cosmo breathed out, white fog poured from his mouth. There was nothing beyond that breath but more fog. At least it was silent. Not even the Golurk patrolled inside this place, though beneath them faint flashes of armor caught the moonlight. As night drew on the two watched the steady change of the guard, clockwork precise.
Hidden away in the crumbling ruins of the old fortress where the stone turret was completely gone on one side, the twins curled up against each other and counted their familiar stars. It was only as they began to drift off to sleep that the sky shattered, comet screaming across the sky, its starlit body and long tail brilliant with cold bright light. It was the impact that shook them the most. A shuddering quake as that light hit the ground and died.
Peeking over, they watched as a strange cold glow flickered once in the distance before going out.
That night they slept badly but had no dreams. Morning snuck up on them, the winter sun a silver coin set into pale pink clouds and framed by a slow sweep of brilliant blues and oranges. Sterling’s fingers twitched as he woke up. He followed the shapes of the sky with one hand, imagining a silk tapestry trailing after it. His other hand curled tightly around their threadbare blanket. Cosmo was slower to wake, head tucked into his brother’s shoulder. He yawned widely with one eye open and watched the play of sunrise across cracked stone.
It’s too early, Cosmo muttered into Sterling’s shirt but when his brother replied Let’s get back, he didn’t argue. Only stretched and murmured sleepily as they packed up what little there was to carry and headed back into the city’s heart. Back to the crowded castle where everyone else was. It was unearthly quiet even as the city woke up. Everything seemed duller in the midst of war, but soon the first Pidove would begin to chirp and people would set out bits of bread and smile their best smiles as the world trudged on.
It was no different in the castle, even though there was no king anymore. It remained orderly even as grief weighed down its people.The Golurk still kept watch and protected the city, and their apprentice army of Golett seemed busier than ever, helping the people with what they could. More and more appeared, as the crafters labored day and night to repair those that broke and made new ones in the process. The castle had opened its doors to everyone so Cosmo could see one of the craftspeople now. She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes with one hand while the other formed the sigils on construct clay. Her hands did not falter even as sleep overtook her. The Golett she created blinked awake and caught her before she could slump off the chair.
Cosmo startled as Sterling tugged him aside, making for the greenhouse. Their Pokémon were wide awake and the greenhouse was abuzz with activity. Whimsicott hid giggles behind its paws while Lilligant huffed and dusted white cotton balls from her grassy gown. Sterling breathed out a sigh of relief to see them both so lively.
Building is still standing at least, he murmured while Lilligant fussed over his messy hair. Aww it’s not so bad, Cosmo protested in between sneezes while Whimsicott made a wilder nest of his. What’s a little fluff between friends?
Lilligant made a furious rustle and Cosmo raised his hands in defeat. My apologies. Two of the finest Chesto berries for milady of course, for this indignity. She turned her head with queenly grace and ignored him. Three berries? A reluctant nod of agreement.
We should tell someone, Sterling said abruptly. It might be important. It felt important.
Cosmo pursed his lips. What, the falling star? They’ll think it's a bad omen. We can’t afford any more of those.
But he went with Sterling to tell them regardless. Their grand advisor looked older than she did the day before, dark bruises beneath her sleepless eyes, wisps of white hair billowing around her face. She listened to them speak but shook her head at the end. On her map rival kingdoms were beginning to close in and it was far more important to bolster their defenses. Her voice was slow and serious. A sense of majesty and wisdom upheld each word.
But you are good, intelligent boys. If you feel this is important I believe you. Go.
So they went that night, their Pokémon beside them.
The stars seemed brighter than usual while shadows grew softer. A blanket of freshly fallen snow covered their steps as they followed the comet’s path to its end. Odd glow melted in with the snow and as the cold grew more bitter, light expanded. In the dark middle of a cratered chasm was a dragon. A Pokémon, strange and grand, who looked at them with eyes so clear it seemed to reflect their hearts. It stood and shook out its wings and spoke to them, soul to soul.
A wish of one heart will be granted here.
Only one but it was the one heart they shared, the same wish: The ravaged world pulled together and made whole again. The dragon bore them and their wish home. The fog of despair lifted from the city, from their kingdom, from the kingdoms beyond that. Joy flowered tentatively as the wholeness of coming together began to mend what had been broken in the world. Here, prosperity overflowed.
Sterling learned to weave and fine silk flowed through his fingers. The stories he preserved hid away the hunger of his past, instead the dragon’s soft fur served as cherished thread. For wasn’t it the ideal that was most important, that served to bring hope and changed the world?
Cosmo turned to the work of stone, the carving of it aided by the dragon’s gifted scale. He gave no quarter, the preservation of his stories precise and unflinching in the face of their bleakness. For it was the unvarnished truth that mattered most. It was the truth that would lead the world.
Each brother turned inward, their hearts hidden away and thoughts unshared until the burden of it burst out. The dragon stood between them, head bowed, while they argued. Of course I’m right, they thought and were correct. Of course he’s wrong, they thought and the dragon’s light grew dimmer and colder.
One argument led to another, then another, until they could barely look at each other. At the final one the dragon did not look at either of them. It simply raised its head to the stars that night and with a piercing cry, it cleaved itself in half. Lightning tore across the sky, followed swiftly by overwhelming heat. The ground fissured and in the cracks a wave of ice spread out, trying desperately to hold it together.
Sterling wobbled on his feet but before he could fall, a sleek black dragon was at his side. Lightning surged into his body. The fog surrounded Cosmo but before he could lose his bearings, a glimmering white dragon was against him. Heat flooded his body. Face to face, the twins looked at each, but could not see each other’s hearts.
The dragons began to fight, ice shattering under their combined furies. In the resulting destruction, a Pokémon cried out in pain until it forgot what had saddened it so. When their fighting did not yield fruit, the brothers stopped. In the settling dust, a third dragon was there. It looked at them with eyes so clear it reflected the emptiness of itself, a hollow shell.
It looked at them for a long moment. Turned away. Took to the air. The twins rushed after. At the cratered chasm where they had once met, fresh snow blanketed the ground. The third dragon walked into the chasm and closed its eyes, unmoving.
Snowflakes fell until the faint blue of sunrise appeared at the edges of the horizon. Under a blanket of snow and perfect silence, they waited for the last stars to disappear from the sky.
✧✦✧
Blue sunlight.
Merril’s head turns creakily. His vision swims. As the sun rises, it creates rings of light and the sky dresses in layers of blue and gossamer hints of the softest gold. Merill watches the brightest star in the sky glow once more, as it has before and will again, rising on a strange new day. The book beneath his hands opens to show two dragons, limned in light.