A Veil of Lies

by Neferirkare_Kakai

Summary:

Look, being thrown through time and space isn't fun in the first place. But being attacked while already in such a situation? That’s just bad manners. Darkrai would know, of course, suddenly being on the receiving end of just that.
But at least he landed in the past, meaning he has the perfect chance to finally take his revenge on those pesky ‘heroes’ that got him there in the first place. And he has the perfect plan, this time: Disguise himself as a perfectly harmless Pokémon, get close to them, and once they fully trust him… stab them in the back and watch them suffer!
Now, if only he could stop himself from starting to like the once-human… that would be great. And where, exactly, has the original partner Pokémon gone?
(Can technically be read without knowledge of the Mystery Dungeon Series)

(was intended to be crack. is now just a story with the occasional humour but also angst and too many words. and a surprising amount of character development for Darkrai. basically the Redemption Arc he never got.)

Notes:

The story will be updated on the Kalends and Ides of the month (CET), because I am a history nerd and it sounds fancy. Today will be a double upload, and I might also post chapters on certain holidays.

Update 10.10.2021: The story will now update slower. I'll try my best to update once a month, around either the start or end of the month.

Chapter 1: Prologue, more like Pro-Nope

"Darrr… cy. My name is Darcy.” Darkrai barely catches himself before he can accidentally admit to his real identity. This mistake could have cost him his entire plan!

He was just… surprised! How should he have known that the Chatot was going to ask for his name? Really, it is impressive that he managed to catch himself like this! Others would not have been able to.

The bird, meanwhile, stares at him, clearly not entirely convinced, and finally, in a much-too-loud voice, cries out, “Isn’t Darcy a girl’s name?”

“N-No!” Darkrai cannot help but splutter in indignity. It is not! He… thinks. He actually does not know, it was simply the first thing which came to mind.

And, sure, there may have been many things on his mind the last few weeks, most of them having to do with getting his revenge on the pesky once-human and her friend, and also wondering why, exactly, he does not remember the specifics of how he ended up in the past, but… his mind is brilliant. Every name he came up with would therefore also be brilliant. And therefore…

“It is a name for boys, as well,” he huffs, “And even if it was not, it would not be my fault that my… parents named me that.”

Blast it, what is wrong with him today? He has never before been so bad at lying.

Is it because of the illusion he is hiding himself behind? It is quite draining on him.

Or does it have anything to do with having taken a – hm, what to call it? – a stumble through time and space? It might have. After all, he got hurt rather badly, and after the worst pain wore off – after days, probably, Darkrai only remembers feverishly lying in some kind of forest, slipping in and out of consciousness, sometimes not even knowing who he is or what he wants – he did notice that his memory… must have taken a slight hit.

But only a slight one! Unlike the once-human he did not forget who he is.

… He simply forgot the events leading up to him being thrown back in time. But they will come back to him, he knows. It has not even been a month, after all. Some of his physical wounds still have visible scabbing, so really, he just needs to give the mental wounds time to heal, as well. Not that he has any! Just… in general.

Besides, even if he does not remember the specifics, he is rather sure that Cresselia was involved, as she always is; as well as the two Pokémon that foiled his plans before; and something tells him that there was someone else—

“Well, I’m not going to judge other Pokémon’s decisions!” The bird’s voice rudely pulls him out of his thoughts, and… did this bird just insult Darkrai’s non-existent, just-now-invented parents? Oh, he is going to regret that, once Darkrai's plan has come to its fruition! Once he has created a world of darkness, then… well, insulting anyone’s parents will be in the bird’s least interest!

And then, to add insult to… insult, the Chatot, completely ignoring what it just insinuated, continues, “So, Darcy, what exactly did you want our guild’s help with?”

“Call me Duskull. And I came here…” Ugh, even remembering that he had to float into this dreadful, dreadful building, shaped like a Wigglytuff of all Pokémon, simply because it is the local guild of Treasure Town (or, as he has dubbed it, Trash Town) makes him suppress a shudder. He wants to wash his whole body after this. He has always disliked having to be around Pokémon beneath his dignity (which is all of them), and there are just so many of them, in this town.

“Because I… am looking for my… cousin,” he finally continues the cover story he came up with, after illusioning himself as a mere Duskull. “I have not seen him,” oh blast it, was the Partner-Pokémon even male? Do Duskull distinguish genders? He sure hopes so, or else he will soon have a sub-optimal situation at hand, “In, well, quite a long time – he might not even remember me, it has been so long – but I felt the urge to find him again and reconnect.”

There, that sounds believable.

The Chatot cocks his head from side to side, and finally, finally, after a much too long pause, asks, “Your cousin is a Duskull too, correct?”

… Obviously. Unless common Pokémon started calling each other cousin even if not related through blood (or whatever else they may have). Did they? He is not entirely sure. He is a Legendary Pokémon after all, a god amongst lesser creatures, destined for a much greater purpose than they could ever hope to achieve.

The form others see – of a mere Duskull, distinguishable only by its blue eye - is not his true form, of course. He does not know, how exactly common Duskull work and act. Maybe they declare everyone their cousin.

Of course, he does not lack the ability to illusion his eye colour as well. Eyes might be the hardest part to illusion, but he is a master at it. He is. But one of the few things he remembers about the once-humans Pokémon-Partner was that he was a Duskull with a blue eye, and therefore, Darkrai thought it necessary to imitate that feature, if he truly wants to pass as a cousin. Definitely.

Thus, he simply nods to answer Chatot's question, something that he is not sure translates well into the illusion he is hiding his true self behind. Duskull, after all, don’t really have… necks to nod with. And so, to clarify, he also answers verbally. “Yes, he is.”

“What’s his name?”

What is this interrogation? He… does not know! He never cared enough to remember! But… wait, did the Partner’s name not start with a ‘Dar-’, just like his own cover-name just now? Yes, yes, that feels correct.

“Dar-eios,” he makes up. After all, he has not seen his cousin in a very long time, so if he forgot the second part of the name, that would not be illogical. “Dareios, that was his name,” he ascertains.

The idiotic Chatot stares at him, seemingly appraising him, and then it… flutters its wings. In… happiness?

“Oh, that’s great! You know, Darcy, I was kind of doubting you at the beginning, but you are lucky! Your cousin lives right here in town!”

Yes! He was right after all!

“He's in charge of the bank!” Chatot chirps, apparently very happy.

Wait.

What.

No, no that must be wrong! His memory might be a little muddled, but he knows that the original Partner-Pokémon never worked at the bank! Did he… mix something up? But why does he even know the banker’s name?! He has only been in this town… once or twice before, and that was decades ago!

“Just follow me, I’ll bring you to him right now!” And with that, the bird flies up the ladder leading out of the guild, and Darkrai can only follow. Their way feels somewhat like a funeral march.

 

So… Darkrai’s plans are always brilliant, of course. He knows that. Truly, he is a mastermind at planning. Has always been. But even he can admit that some of his plans are not as… brilliant as others, and this one… might be one of those, unfortunately.

Oh, sure, when he woke up after being thrown through time and space—

No, alright, when he woke up then, he was not able to do much of anything. But after most of his wounds had healed (there are a few that will most definitely scar – for example, three claw marks of an unknown source straight over his face, which he is not very happy about – in fact, he abhors the fact that he will most likely have those scars for eternity) he had realized that, whatever had thrown him through a Dimensional Hole (he thinks) had also thrown at him the chance to do everything again, just better.

He would just need to pull the hero and her friend into a nightmare before they even knew what was going on! How perfect!

After another day, he had realized that he could not, in fact, change anything of actual importance, unless he wanted to make himself disappear from this timeline. Which he is not very keen on. Thus, he changed his plans.

Now, instead of simply incapacitating the once-human and her friend before they could ever foil his plans, he would… well, dispose of the friend in a lasting way and take on his role, behaving just as the other did. Like this, Dialga should, theoretically, not observe the anomaly in time and… well, ignore Darkrai in turn. Besides, what with Temporal Tower almost collapsing, he should be too busy to notice a very small, very dangerous anomaly, anyways.

And then, once everything had played out as it should, after Darkrai ensured his own continued survival… only after that would he finally take his revenge, by betraying the once-human who, at that point in time, would surely think of him as her very best friend. And after that… well, he would create a world of darkness, by whatever means presented themselves.

He had always been good at acting from the shadows, after all.

 

And this was how, in the end, Darkrai ended up posing as the banker’s cousin.

Oh, of course, the stupid Duskull in the bank does not know him, but it claims that “Ah, yes, I do have many cousins – I’m sorry if I don’t really remember you, but we must have met when we were young, right?” and Darkrai cannot do anything but play along.

At least it gets him a place to stay at, Dareios the (real) Duskull being more than happy to help his ‘cousin’ out, after Darkrai comes up with a story of how he got knocked out in a Mystery Dungeon (he would never get himself knocked out in a Dungeon!) and thus lost almost all of his possessions.

 

“And of course, there are a few Pokémon who know about this little cliff-cave,” the ghost says and then, he snickers. He tends to do so after almost every sentence he speaks, and sometimes even after sentences spoken by others, “But none have, as of yet, decided to make it their home. Therefore, I believe that none will have any objections. And if they do…” He snickers to end his sentence.

Darkrai keeps himself from rolling his eye. What did he do to deserve this? Was it his plans? Because no matter how many times everyone else will try to tell him, will try to convince him that he is evil for coming up with them, trying to make them come true… He does not care. He does not care what a world that has always hated him thinks, and he also does not deserve a ‘cousin’ who snickers after what feels like every word.

What did he even mean to insinuate by doing so? Snickering is not a proper way to end a sentence! Evil laughter might be, but not snickering.

“This will… certainly do as a home,” Darkrai finally states, after the silence grows a little too long.

And really, it will. Against most expectations, he does not need many luxuries – in fact, he needs almost none. He has lived in caves before, even alongside feral Pokémon in Mystery Dungeons. He can sleep on a bed just as well as simple hay; and more often than not, he has slept on the ground without even thinking of making a fuss about it.

(Alright, he might have thought about it, but only if others were around he could blame for the entire situation.)

“Wonderful! Since you know where to find me, I will let you settle in,” Dareios say, or rather snickers, and then, also adds, “And if you need to earn a little coin, I would be glad to have you help me at my bank. I am sure you know how to give money a good resting place.” And, like the infuriating ghost-type he is, he simply turns around and floats away, right through the cave’s wall.

Nevermind that the cave has a proper set of stairs leading into it, even a doorframe (although no door, unfortunately – maybe Darkrai should think about acquiring one); but leave it to ghost-types to not use such things.

Maybe Darkrai is the exception to it, but he does not understand how they can spend so much time inside walls. He would starve after approximately three hours. Less, most likely.

Darkrai stares after him, a frown on his face. Something felt…

Hm. He is not sure. He decides not to focus on it.

But, well, with the ghost having finally left, there is now at least a bit of silence. There is still the sound of wind, and waves crushing against the cliffs further down, but that is not noise by his standards. It is much preferable tothe town. That is much too crowded and loud.

He sighs and looks around again. A floor covered by a mixture of dirt and small rocks, the beginnings of grass growing on it – over the course of spring, Darkrai is sure that it will only become more – some vines on the walls, a merrily flowing small spring. It seems to have it beginnings somewhere inside the cave walls, which is rather convenient.

Oh, and there is also the gaping opening towards the ocean. As far as he has learnt, the cliff in which the cave is situated is called “Sharpedo Bluff”, due to it strongly resembling a Sharpedo’s gaping mouth. He can surely see the resemblance.

Well. It is not too bad. If it rains and the winds are strong, there might be the problem of water getting in, but for now, it is alright. He can work with this.

More importantly, he can now use the spring's convenient water and finally, finally wash himself. The last days were spent with no real opportunity for that. After the pain he'd landed himself in had passed, he'd managed to find a spring to wash himself, at least a bit (and take care of some festering wounds), but after that, there had been no such possibilities. He feels disgusting, even if he made sure to wash himself along the way.

And his illusioned form might not show any of that – might not even show the wounds he still carries – but beneath it, he is still himself. And he still has hair which got tangled beyond belief.

So that is what he will do. Wash himself, try to brush out his hair, make more of a liveable space of this cave, and then… assimilate himself in the town. Wait for the hero to show up. And then... Well. Revenge will be sweet.

 

Living in Trash Town… is annoying, and he just cannot keep himself from becoming his cynical self again. He tried to reign himself in, at first, and did so successfully for some weeks, even months (he has always been a great actor), but… after even more months passed, after the months became years, he stopped bothering. He can only take so much stupidity until he snaps.

Trash Town is one of the biggest on the Grass Continent, and as such, it sees a lot of travel – not just from the rest of the continent but also the others, what with its position on the coast. And after the first few days, he decided to accept his ‘cousin’s’ proposition to help him at the bank – after all, he needs to fit in.

Unfortunately, that means dealing with all the Pokémon passing through town, and also having to have conversations. Daily.

If someone tells him once that “Well, as a ghost-type you would not understand,” he can force a smile and move on. If he hears “That blue eye of yours is really unnatural, you know that?” twice, he can nod and just ignore whoever said it. But if he hears something like “And now the apples got more pricey again, can you believe that?” for the third time in a single day, can he really be seen at fault for snapping, “I do not care” at the customer who said it? He cannot. It is perfectly natural.

The Pokémon living in the town adjust to it, anyways – idiots, all of them. Those that pass through might sometimes throw him annoyed glances, but after he glances back at them with murderous intent, they mostly move along quite fast. Really, he should be lauded for not having thrown all of them into an endless nightmare, yet. They are so bothersome.

Well, Dareios might be alright – especially since the ghost realized the immense amount of pent-up energy within Darkrai (anger, mostly) and decided to show him a way to cope with that, it being…

Pranks.

At first, he reacted sceptical – pranks, really?

But truly, pranks are just a simpler form of scheming, with not quite as extreme outcomes as his normal plans.

Chansey makes a derisive comment in passing? How unfortunate that the next morning, she finds her fur dyed blue. The green Kecleon sells him an apple that tastes bad? Seems like all of their wares are in disarray shortly after. One of the town’s many kids makes fun of his blue eye? How surprising that the next thing she eats happens to be a Nomel Berry, with no one knowing how it got in her hand.

It is like… scheming world domination, but on a much smaller scale.

…

…… He somewhat likes it.

 

The original partner never shows its face in the following years. That is… kind of concerning. Maybe Darkrai screwed something up on his way to Trash Town, which in turn kept the partner from ever stepping foot into town? He has never really liked the implications of the Butterfree-Effect.

But he has not made himself disappear yet, so Dialga should not have noticed.

Still, Darkrai will have to be exceedingly careful.

 

Troubles and annoyances aside, he falls into his role with relative ease. There are, of course, a few things he really hates about it – having to downplay his brilliance, intellect and prowess, having to change his waking cycle from being awake at night and sleeping at day to the other way around, having to not threaten anyone who manages to invoke his anger (almost everyone) – but mostly, it is… acceptable. Not the most enjoyable plan he has ever had, but one of the safest, probably.

He mostly spends his days either training (which means entering the local Mystery Dungeons and beating up the feral Pokémon within them) or helping his ‘cousin’ at the bank.  And pranking, of course, so that he keeps his scheming abilities trained. A kind of boring rhythm creeps into his life before he has truly taken notice of it, and once it does, it is too late to change it.

If he was a lesser being, he would try to rush things - but since he is not, he accepts that good plans need time to grow. A boring rhythm is part of that, unfortunately.

And after about five years have passed, there finally comes the moment where he finds an unconscious Piplup lying on the beach, just after a heavy storm. The hero! Finally!

Obviously, he does not know how she and her partner originally met, but does it really matter?

A long as Dialga takes no notice, it does not.

So for now, Darkrai just needs to stop himself from openly showing his disgust, and become her very best friend.

Notes:

This fic is (basically) completely finished and has roughly 250.000 words. I will therefore definitely finish posting it! There are a few extra chapters after the story's climax which are not finished yet, however, I will most definitely have them done in time. The chapters vary in length, but after a short phase of growth, they will settle at around 6.000-8.000 words.
Also, English is not my native language, and while I am somewhat sure on my grasp on it, mistakes will still happen! So if you find any, I'd be incredibly thankful if you could point then out so I can edit them away!
Anyways, fun fact, this story was started about a year ago, with me believing that it would be a quick, simple Crack Fic with not much more than 10.000 words. Now look at me. I basically wrote a book.
Finally, the biggest possible thanks I could give to my beta WolfsThyme ! The story would not be what it is without her.
Last but not least, thank you for reading!

Editing Hiatus Update (19.08.2022):
Update: This story will be much longer, because many things were changed while just ‘editing’ it in the first posting-pass, until I just started re-writing the entire story. The length will most definitely be longer than 300.000 words, maybe even more than 400.000 – I cannot say, yet.
The chapters have grown longer as well, and most are anywhere between 13.000-17.000 words, with occasional outliers.

Changes:
-) slight changes to story summary (grammar and sentence structure)
-) changes to sentence structure; as well as a few added sentences to keep up with my current writing style
-) rearranged some things to be easier to read
-) got rid of some small grammatical issues and/or questionable choices regarding vocabulary
Personal Note: I almost feel like the beginning is a different story, entirely – different mood, different writing style, and more. It’s quite interesting to see the changes my writing style went through so clearly.

Chapter 2: Of Social Skills and Antisocial Skulls

Summary:

Last Chapter: After being thrown through time and space, Darkrai found himself in the past once again. He decided to use this as a chance to get close to the hero who would one day foil his plans of a world of darkness, and for that, made his way to Treasure Town. After ‘infiltrating’ the town and taking on the role of ‘Darcy the Duskull’, cousin of the resident bank teller, he waited for the hero’s arrival. After around four to five years time, he finally found her passed out on a beach.

Notes:

enter me: trying to explain why the legendaries in pmd have male/female pronouns

“You there… are you alright?” Darkrai asks the Piplup, without any contempt dripping from his words.

(Please don’t be alright, please be on the verge of dying so I can just kill you and claim that you were already dead-, No wait, that would not be a proper revenge at all! Don’t die before I can kill you!)

He knows how to act like a nice Pokémon. He does. So what if, perhaps, there was a little disgust to be heard? If the human-turned-Pokémon’s experience with being attacked while travelling through time and space is just a little bit similar to his own, she will be too out of it to notice it.

“Ugh,” the human-turned-Pokémon groans very eloquently, which means that she is still alive. Which is great! Now, he can truly start his revenge. Years of planning and presenting himself in the role of a lowly Duskull, finally coming to fruition!

When no more words pass her beak, Darkrai takes the word again.

“You were lying here unconsciously. Might you need any… assistance?” And he even made this question sound friendly. He thinks. Maybe it was the sarcastic kind of friendly. It might have been, since he very much does not plan on helping.

“Uh… I…” The Piplup looks around, confused. There is not much to see – just the sandy beach, surrounded by high cliffs and a few palms and tamarisks, a sun on its way down, the ocean. And a few Krabby blowing bubbles, but they are basically part of the beach, anyways. It could be almost every beach, so knowing her surroundings does not tell her anything.

“I… Uh…” Not a good conversationalist after just being attacked and spat out of a Dimensional Hole, huh? Well, he was not, either, so this, at least, can be forgiven. However, her travelling back in time to stop him in the first place? Horrible manners. He hates her for that, and more.

“Well, in any case, I am called Darcy,” he keeps the conversation going, not quite sure how to ask what others might deem ‘normal' questions, “If you happen to carry a name, too, what is yours?”

And oh, how Darkrai has come to hate this stupid name over the last few years. Why had he not thought of coming up with one before everything? A grand one, which strikes reverence into the hearts of those who hear it, like…

Hm. He actually does not know. Names have, admittedly, never been of much interest to him. He does not really need one, after all, since there is only one of his species. Or maybe, he did not need a name. Maybe his previous disinterest was why he ended up with such a bothersome one.

He truly hates it, anyhow. Whenever he is forced to tell it, there is a much too high chance that his interlocutor will just ask him if it is a girl’s name. It is not! Does he look like a girl?!

Not that he has a real problem with being considered female, per se – there have been times when he decided to use female pronouns, there have been times where he chose none at all. Most Legendaries are very liberate with what they consider themselves. But at the moment, he is presenting as male, very obviously so, and thus, everyone can just go and act like it! Besides, it is just incredibly impolite to ask someone who is obviously presenting themselves a certain way to ask if they are truly sure that their name is correct and—

Just accept that it is his name. His name that he blurted out in a moment of weakness and truly hates by now, because it also sounds very stupid.

In the future, he will make sure to—

Oh wait, is the once-human answering already?

“I… uh, I’m Pearl… But since when could Pokémon talk?”

What a truly benighted question. Was this really the adversary he lost to? Embarrassing.

“… Since the moment the universe was created. In fact, Pokémon have been able to talk for far longer than humans, or at least the Legendaries have. Did you hit your head somewhere?” Maybe he should instead ask, ‘Did I hit your head somewhere’, but then again, that would be incredibly stupid, so he does not.

“I… don’t know…” she mutters, staring at the sand, very obviously not knowing how to proceed. It could not be pleasant to be sitting in it for so long, could it? He is only standing on it on his, admittedly, very small feet, and is already feeling the heat of it. And it is evening by now. He would not like to imagine what the sand had to feel like during midday. Summers tend to get very hot, here.

Oh, wait. An answer, he should probably think of one. Not that she asked a question, but normal Pokémon do not ignore their interlocutors.

“In any way, what brought you here? I do not remember ever having seen a Piplup around Tra-Treasure Town, before.”

“A Piplup?”

“Well, yes. You do know that you are a Piplup, do you not?”

Honestly, waiting all the years for the moment in which his adversary realizes that she is not a human anymore was worth it, definitely.

The terror, the realization setting in, the panic! Making sure that he spoke the truth (he won’t let it become a habit) by turning left and right, staring at her own little blue body, truly seeing that she is not human anymore…

It is simply delightful to watch.

He snickers – a bad habit he got into since assuming the role of a Duskull. He blames Dareios for it. It is not Darkrai’s fault that he needed to learn how to behave like a proper Duskull from a real Duskull!

 “I-, I-, But I am a human!” (the Piplup? Once-Human? just calling her Pearl would probably be easiest, so he will stick to that-,) Pearl shrieks in terror, turning hysterically from left to right, trying to get a good look at herself.

“You do not seem like a human to me. Or maybe humans nowadays look like Piplup, who knows?” He snickers, once again.

“This isn’t funny!” she shouts, still horrified.

“I apologize,” he answers, not meaning it even a little.

“I-, I-, I’m sure I should be a human!”

“Calm yourself, I do not doubt you. In fact, I believe you,” he says, trying to calm her. After all, he is supposed to become her ‘best friend ever’ (these words leave a disgusting taste in his mouth, even though he did not speak them), who would definitely never betray her. Ever.

… Maybe making fun of her was not the best decision. He is supposed to be a nice, friendly Pokémon. Not… his usual self.

Well, too late now to change anything. Except if he got thrown into the past a second time, but he would rather avoid that scenario.

“You do?” she asks, stopping her attempts at looking at her new body to instead stare at him with big eyes.

Do all Piplup have such big eyes? It is honestly a little disconcerting. Not even Jirachi has such big eyes – no, wait, on second thought, they might have.

But that is not important at the moment! He needs to concentrate on the conversation, darn it!

 “Of course,” he finally answers. After all, if he did not believe it, why would he claim it? Oh, wait, he is a liar, that is true… Still, she could not know that, so a little more trust, please!

”There have been happening a lot of peculiar things lately,” he starts to explain, “Feral Pokémon growing aggressive, natural disasters, disappearances… So a human turning into a Pokémon is not that farfetched, do you not think so, too?”

It kind of is – in fact almost none of the things he mentioned are truly happening so much as to be very noticeable. He does not say so. Pearl does not answer his rhetorical question, anyways, so he continues his spiel.

“So, why did you turn into a Pokémon?” he asks, knowing fully well why Pearl turned into a Pokémon. Well, actually, not entirely. Him attacking her while she travelled through time had most likely something to do with her amnesia, but… Why it also turned her into a Pokémon, he does not know. It is not as if he has the ability to do so.

… He thinks. He would not suddenly develop it, would he? And if he did, what would the use for this even be? If Pearl was once a human, and as a Pokémon ended up saving many others, would that not imply that humans would be better Pokémon than, well, Pokémon?

… Questions for another day.

Anyways, seeing as he is still not supposed to know anything about her, admitting to doing so anyways would not be very smart, and so, he does not.

“I… I don’t remember! I don’t remember anything!” she cries in obvious panic, her eyes no longer wide in… adulation, but rather horror.

And there it is, the amnesia that made him believe that she was no longer a threat.

(Oh, how stupid Past-Darkrai was. Well, he is here to redo everything. Curses be upon you, Past-Darkrai.)

“Calm down,” he tries, but she does not listen and instead starts to breath heavily and uneven.

Did the original Duskull also have to deal with this? How bothersome. He does not know how to calm anyone down, least of all a panicking Piplup that was a human until a few hours ago. What are the usual things Pokémon do to calm others?

“Calm yourself!” he snaps, but his words do not even seem to register, which is just great. Wonderful. This is how he imagined his day going.

“There is no need for you to panic!” he calls again, which finally gets her to look at him, and then start to hiccup as if she is about to cry.

“But-But I don’t-, I don’t remember anything!”

He barely keeps from rolling his eyes. If she does not remember anything (which is not true, the knowledge of her name and previous personhood very obviously not having disappeared) then why can she panic about that? Should she not just remain calm, since she does not know what she lost?

Ugh. Pokémon (and humans) beneath his dignity are so very bothersome.

“Well, you obviously remember how to panic,” he huffs, but as that makes her breathing even more frantic (why??), Darkrai decides that, really, words cannot be of help here. Rather, he will have to…

He does not want to, but…

Darkrai decides to pat her on her shoulder (her fin?). Ugh, his hand feels disgusting now. It is tingling all wrong and he would really love to just cut it off. He won’t, of course, because he always gets that feeling when he touches others, but he still resents having to experience it now.

At least she looks at him with her big eyes again, this time not snapping back or anything.

“It is alright, we will figure it out,” He manages to force out, because he still has a role to play, no matter how much he hates it, “For now, let us simply-“

And before he can end the sentence, someone crashes into him, hard. He, in turn, almost tumbles against Pearl.

Too much physical contact! This is abhorrent!

A snarl on his face, he whips around. He already has a hunch as to who it is, because for some time now, the self-dubbed ‘bad guys’ of the town have started to harass him, because, well, he is actually not sure. Of all the Pokémon living in the village he is probably… the least approachable.

Sure, he always tries to act like a young-ish, somewhat friendly Pokémon, but if that young, friendly Pokémon also happens to have a cynical streak, so what? And if that young Pokémon also dislikes physical contact, who could fault it? And if the same Pokémon is known for its mean comments, that is just part of its charm, is it not?

... On second thought, he might not successfully portray either of those things.

But generally, the others still accept him (he thinks), yet make sure not to enrage him.

Except for “Team Skull”, as they like to call themselves. Those folks just love riling him up, believing themselves to be so much stronger. Just they wait – once he gets the chance to fight against them without holding back, they are going straight to the Distortion World. The only thing that saved them until now was that they only ambushed him in town, where fighting is forbidden. Not that Darkrai abides by the law, normally, but he is not particularly keen on spending a night in a holding cell.

“Well, I do beg your pardon,” Koffing says, a wide grin plastered on his ugly face.

“I would rather have you beg for your life once I am done with you,” Darkrai shoots back, and oh no, was that too vindictive? Will Pearl now stop trusting him?

(She cannot, or else all his years of planning were for naught!)

Team Skull, however, does not take his threat seriously (they should!) – after all, they know his way of speaking to them, by now. And unfortunately, speaking is all he can really do in town.

“Pffft, as if you can face up to us, squirt!” Zubat barks back, and you know what? Darkrai is going to plunge them into a world of nightmares soon. How did they even arrive at the conclusion that he is some kind of small and defenceless Pokémon? He is about to tell Zubat in just what way he will torture him, when suddenly, the bat asks, “Hey, that’s yours, isn’t it?”

Darkrai stares at him, confused, until suddenly, the bat makes a grab for- His Relic Fragment!

How dare they.

He found it just shortly after arriving in the past, when he was still on his way to Trash Town. Immediately recognizing it for what it was, Darkrai took it with him – and has been carrying it around his neck with a piece of string ever since. The impact from the thieving thugs running into him must have loosened it.

And now, Zubat is holding it. He probably does not even surmise what the Relic Fragment stands for, how unlikely they are to appear outside the realms of Legendaries! And how lucky Darkrai was to find it in the first place!

And now this… this scum just took it!

But, truly, they do not realize, as instead Zubat and Koffing laugh, and with a, “See you around, coward,” they take off into the Mystery Dungeon situated in the cave which is right at the beach – generally simply referred to as ‘Beach Cave’ – with his very important Relic Fragment.

“They just took my…” he cannot help but breath out in disbelieve. It all happened so fast! He should have run after them, but... he does not run. No one with even an ounce of self-worth runs. It simply does not look flattering.

So the only logical thing he can do now is to follow them – at a more sedate pace. Who knows what they would try to use it for? Maybe they would throw it into the sea, just to spite him! He cannot allow that.

“Your… Fragment?” a voice asks, sounding confused. For a second, Darkrai is confused, too – he does not know any Pokémon with a voice like this from Trash Town, does he? But then, he realizes that, ah yes, the hero is still here too, is she not?

“Yes. I…” He thinks fast, “I have always had it.” Not a lie, really. Since posing as a Duskull, he has always had it, at least.

“It means… quite a lot to me. Thus, I need to get it back.” Also not necessarily a lie. It does not hold much emotional value, true, but it still means much to him because he is pretty sure he is still going to need it, at some point. Even if that point will be decades in the future. Or simply to rub it under Dialga’s nose that Darkrai has it.

… Had it, technically.

“Should I-, Can I help you?” Pearl tentatively asks, and there it is, the friendliness that made her into a beloved hero. Darkrai would never offer to help anyone just minutes after meeting them. He would generally not offer to help anyone, unless he could gain something from it.

But, well, it would be stupid not to make use of this generosity most others - Pearl included - posses, right?

“Indeed you can. Let us go after them and see if they cannot be taught a lesson yet."

Next to him, Pearl shudders. 

Hm. Maybe Darkrai used his murderous voice. He should try not to fall back unto that too often, for the future.

Not that it matters, right now. He has the right to be angry, and Pearl will still be too out of it to clearly remember, he is sure. Turning around, he starts to float towards Beach Cave, Pearl following close behind.

 

Once they are in the Mystery Dungeon, surrounded by damp cave walls, the ground littered with either dried or half-dried seaweed, Darkrai has to explain to the oblivious human/Pokémon a lot. Truly, a lot.

But he does so, patiently, because after all, he wants to become her best friend.

He explains how the Mystery Dungeons work and are ever changing; the current situation of their world (at least what the other Pokémon believe); he tells her of exploration teams and guilds.

“Okay, so one thing I don’t get,” she finally asks, “Why do Mystery Dungeons change constantly? I understand that they do, but… just why?”

“A good question, if still unanswered,” Darkrai says, and then he cannot hold back because this might be the first time in years that he has someone who truly listens and believes his every word, “There are certainly many theories out there. The one I personally believe in—“

He stops short. Hm. Maybe he should not talk about that one? It would certainly show his immense knowledge of things he probably should not know about, if he were the lesser being he is posing as. Then again, Pearl is… she would not know the implications of him knowing it. But she could tell someone else, who would realize it.

“Yeah?” she asks, and he must hold back! He cannot just tell her the most perfect theory there ever has been about Mystery Dungeons.

(It is the most perfect because he came up with it, obviously.)

He is very weak when it comes to stopping himself from monologuing, though, and since this is a very obvious invitation to do so, he decides that, blast it, he will tell her.

“Maybe you do not know, but there are mystical objects strewn throughout the whole world called ‘Time Gears’. In certain areas, they control the time, but still, there is also a Legendary Pokémon responsible for doing the same task.”

“Time Gears? Hm, that sounds familiar, somehow…” She trails off. Well, obviously she would have that feeling of almost-recollection. She did know of them. However, after another moment of pondering the subject, she seems to leave it aside, and instead asks, “There is a Pokémon responsible for time?”

… In any case, being interrupted during a monologue is rude.

“Yes, there is,” he forces out, “He is called Dialga, and quite powerful. If you do not have to ever meet him, do not try to meet him.” He is not speaking from experience, of course not. “Anyways, while Dialga definitely controls time and its flow, even has a tower for this very purpose, these Time Gears still exist. For what reason? No one is really sure. Now, Dialga also has an equivalent in Palkia, the deity of space. Just as Dialga, Palkia also has his own realm, from which he controls space and makes sure  that no distortions happen,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “And I believe that Mystery Dungeons are his equivalent of Dialga’s Time Gears.”

“… I don’t think I get it,” Pearl sighs.

“I would not expect you to,” he automatically answers and then backtracks, “With that, I mean, not at first. But seeing as space is clearly in a sort of disarray within Mystery Dungeons, I believe that it makes sense that these slight distortions are necessary to keep the rest of the world stable.”

“Oh, okay, like this it sounds… somewhat logical?”

“Of course it does, I said it,” he answers and… maybe not the best answer. Then, he sighs. “Of course, this theory might just be completely false, and it is simply Giratina trying to assert influence on our world.”

“Giratina?”

“Another Legendary, part of the trio that Dialga and Palkia are part of.”

“And what’s he… she? responsible for? Like, you said Dialga was time, right, and Palkia, uh, space? So is Giratina… uh…”

“Last I heard, Giratina was going by ‘she’. And, to put it simply, she is the counterweight to Dialga and Palkia. Antimatter, if you want. She did something… unforgivable and was banished to the Distortion World for it, where she remains, to this day.”

“Distortion World?” Pearl interrupts, and Darkrai has to take an incredibly deep breath to calm himself down. He is monologuing! Don’t interrupt, darn it!

“A counterweight to our world. The rules that apply here do not apply there, to put it simply. It keeps our world in balance. Anyways,” he starts, pointedly pronouncing the word, “I do believe that she is rather happy to be there, but who knows, maybe Mystery Dungeons are her way of telling a certain Creator Pokémon what she thinks about them.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what Creator Pokémon?” Pearl asks, sounding very confused.

“I am not going to talk about that being,” he answers, rather icily. Arceus and him are not on good terms.

His slight outburst gets her into embarrassed stammering. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t want to-, to seem too assuming or anything, it’s just, this is all very new to me and you just seem to know so much and I’m sorry, alright? I won’t ask about it again…” she trails off. Her face betrays how unsure she must feel.

Ugh. He does not feel bad, no. But he needs to be her friend, and just snapping at her for reasons she does not understand is probably not the way to go. Not that he snaps. He simply chastises.

“It is alright,” he therefore reassures, “It was not truly your fault. I simply… one generally does not talk about this being. Which you obviously would not know, since you are not a real Pokémon.”

This is, of course, a lie – while Arceus is not featured in most conversations because most Pokémon simply do not know about it, it is not like they are not allowed to do so. But Pearl does not need to know that.

“Oh, okay. Well, thank you anyway for telling me all this! You really, really know a lot!”

“Well… Legendary Pokémon are an interest of mine, so I read up on them.” Blast it, he really said too much, did he not? He got carried away, as he often does when monologuing. He will have to be more careful in the future.

“Still, it’s really cool! I’m very thankful for everything you tell me!” she answers, a big smile on her face.

Much too trusting. She really is much too friendly and trusting.

Not that Darkrai considers that a problem. To him, it is… an opportunity.

 

Pearl is surprisingly good at being a Pokémon. Many things just seem to come to her naturally – like fighting. So when she insists on being the one to lead the two of them through the Dungeon, once she understands its mechanics, he lets her. Might it be counterproductive to just let her grow strong? Maybe. But Darkrai really wants to preserve his stronger attacks to use on the two idiotic imbeciles, and if he fought too much, he might exhaust himself too early.

Not that he expects them to be strong adversaries, and Beach Cave is also a very short dungeon, but... still. Pearl is able to fight, so letting her fight, he will.

Sure, it might be counterproductive to help her become more powerful. But at the same time, he does not want to have to protect her in the future, so letting her become able to defend herself is preferable.

“Hey, Darcy, another question?” she asks after what could not have been more than five minutes of silence. She is rather… talkative.

“What is it?”

“Uhm, okay, so I’m new to this so maybe it is obvious to you, but the Pokémon we’ve been encountering in this Dungeon are… uh…”

“Feral,” he states, “Is what you wanted to say, correct?”

Tentatively, she nods.

“And you want to know why they are so different to me and you?”

Again, she nods.

Darkrai ponders the question for a few moments. “Well. As I told you earlier, Mystery Dungeons do not follow the rules that other places do. However, some Pokémon, at some point in time, still decided to make it their home, and thus became very different from everyone outside. They see the Dungeons as their territories and therefore attack intruders – like us.”

Just as he finishes the sentence, a feral Corsola tries to attack – he knocks it to the side with a simple swipe of his hand, which knocks it out immediately. How weak. Normally, of course, he would not attack with his hand like this, but really, it feels disgusting anyways from the previous touch still, so best to make use of it until he gets a chance to properly wash it.

“Generally, they are nonverbal, although some of them seem to develop the ability to speak. Those will often leave their Dungeons if a chance presents itself, and then be integrated into ‘normal’ life. And there are sometimes also some verbal, non-feral Pokémon living in the Dungeons, seeing them as their territory. Who knows, they might just be the parents of the next generation of nonverbal, feral Pokémon. Does this answer your question?”

“I… yeah, I think for now it does. Thanks again! Hey, those are the stairs you told me to look out for, aren’t they?”

He nods – indeed they are. From his previous explorations of this Dungeon he knows that this will lead them to its end – and hopefully Koffing and Zubat, too. If they are not there…

Well. Nothing to do but go down the stairs.

They emerge at the end of the Dungeon, and admittedly, the innermost cave looks nice enough - there is an opening towards the ocean, showing the horizon and setting sun. However, the sun's light fills the entire cave, entering in an almost direct angle. Where the sun does not reach on its own, it is reflected by the water. Darkrai has to blink against the intense light a few times, and even then, some things remain hazy. All of this makes the cave a sub-optimal place to be, right now.

At least the temperature is pleasant – most walls are wet, either from waves, the high tide, or just the natural dampness of the place. Thus, the cave ends up being rather cool – not cold, just cool.

Unfortunately, two more unpleasant things are situated in here, namely, Koffing and Zubat. Although Darkrai should not get angry – at least they are here, in view, and not hiding somewhere.

“Give me back my Relic Fragment,” Darkrai states, trying very hard not to sound too demanding. He is only a Duskull, now, he reminds himself. Not the Legendary Pokémon Darkrai, Ruler Over Darkness And Nightmares. Just a simple Duskull.

“Well, well,…” Koffing starts, “If it isn’t our friend, the big coward.”

Darkrai is annoyed. His patience is running very, very thin. He tried to remain friendly (for one measly moment), he really tried his best.

Besides, where do the thuggish thieves even get all of these inaccurate insults from? Darkrai is no coward!

…He simply flees if he knows that he is overpowered. But how would they know that?

They have no way of knowing it, obviously. Therefore, they are using the insult in an inaccurate way. And Darkrai is very annoyed by that.

“Either you give it back to me right now or I will ski-,“ skin you alive, he wants to say, until he realizes that a good Pokémon would definitely not say that. So instead, he continues with, “…skilfully beat you in an honest fight.”

There. That sounds honourable, even.

The two Pokémon look at each other, and then, they start laughing.

“You think you could beat us, coward! Well, then try! If you win, we might even give your stupid stone back,” Koffing laughs, and oh, finally he has the permission to beat them senseless. The rules of the town obviously do not apply in Mystery Dungeons, and while he will not kill them… Well, a life of never-ending nightmares is even worse, in his opinion.

As he draws back to attack Koffing and Zubat with Dark Void, he suddenly realizes that as a normal Duskull, he should definitely not know this attack. Blast it. He should’ve realized that sooner, should he not?

And so, instead, he goes for Double Team – after all, it is always good to be harder to be hit. In his opinion. And he is right, because… Because he is right.

Before either Koffing or Zubat can attack – and this is, of course, against the unwritten rules of fair battle, which generally say that you should only attack in turns, but Darkrai does not care – he goes for a Dark Pulse. Duskull can learn that attack, right? He hopes so. Once he is finished with these two troublemakers, he will have to inconspicuously ask Dareios about all attacks they can learn and then adjust his moveset accordingly.

Ugh, if he could just go for Dark Void and let his ability do the rest!

But Darkrai is quite aware that he is the only being who knows that attack. Which means that he should probably not use it while pretending to be a Duskull.

It does not matter, anyway, because Dark Pulse knocks Koffing and Zubat out instantly.

… Oh.

He still has his almost-normal amount of power, does he not? Which means he is much stronger than they could ever dream to be. He somewhat forgot.

Well, too bad for them, but good for him.

His two enemies groan in pain, and after groaning for an embarrassingly long time, finally manage to force themselves upright once again. As upright as a sphere can be, in Koffing’s case.

Darkrai does not stop them in their tries – it is much funnier to simply watch them stumble around disoriented. Pearl also does nothing, because most likely, she is not sure how to react to all of this.

Once they are upright again, the two idiots stare at him, definitely frightened. After all, to be taken out by a single attack – it is sure to show them who the stronger one is.

(Tremble before me, foolish Pokémon!)

“Bah! Here you go, take it then!” Zubat spits, throwing the Relic Fragment before Darkrai, and, “Just leave us alone!” he adds. With what hands Zubat held it, Darkrai does not want to ponder.

“And don’t think that you’re sooo awesome! Your victory was just a fluke!” Koffing adds, but before Darkrai can show them a second time how much of a ‘fluke’ it was, they have already run- uh, flown away. Floated away.

He does not go after them.

Instead, he picks up the Relic Fragment from the ground. It still looks as it did when he found it – very old, very rough around the edges, and very mysterious. Still, for good measure, Darkrai walks to the ocean and uses its salty water to wash it. Is he sure that the phantom touches of Zubat and Koffing will remain for days, if not weeks, no matter how often he does so? Of course. Does he know that salt water really does not make the best washing detergent? Naturally.

But still… It is more acceptable like this. No great, not even good, but at least acceptable.

Once that is done, he once again fastens the fragment to the string around his neck – he feels disgusting, anyways, and will have to wash up multiple times in the coming days. So whatever.

Then, he ponders. Duskull don’t have visible necks, do they? So it would probably seem as if he put it around his body. Strange. Even though he has had the illusion going for years now, he still wonders about it, from time to time.

Finally, he turns to Pearl. Is now the moment to thank her?

He would rather not. He hates thanking other Pokémon, on principle. He wants to do it even less, now that it is his future adversary. But unfortunately, it is what a good Pokémon would do, and he is very obviously a very nice and very good Pokémon.

… Best just to phrase it so it does not sound like he is thanking her, but so that it could, possibly, be interpreted as such.

“Without you, I…” Would have beat them up all the same, he does not say, and instead he lies and claims that, “I would not have managed to get it back so fast.”

“Uhm, you’re welcome? But you did really good against them on your own. I think. I wouldn’t know, I think that was my first real fight as a Pokémon? Against non-feral Pokémon. But anyways, I’m babbling, you did great!”

“I… was surprised myself, that they were so weak.” Not a lie, necessarily. He misjudged his strength, after all, and should have known that he is still the most powerful Pokémon around. At least against most ordinary Pokémon. Even in this town, there are a few he is still… careful around. “Anyways, let us leave this Dungeon behind.”

The Piplup nods, and they make their way back through the Dungeon.

 

Once they stand on the beach, the waves gently lapping and the sun having disappeared almost entirely into the waves, Darkrai starts to fidget with the Relic Fragment. He is not nervous, of course not! He just… does not know how to proceed. Should he invite the once-human to his own home? Should he tell her to join the-

The guild!

They should join the guild together! After all, Pearl and the original partner were members. This, he remembers clearly. And so, if he plans to replay history as close to the original timeline as possible, he will need to do it, too.

… Not that he truly wants to join the guild or any guild at all, but it does not seem like he can really choose here. Everything to keep his plans working, and himself from disappearing.

Well, that only raises the question of how to get Pearl to agree to joining the guild.

“You… well, you fought good,” he says. Wonderful. Not awkward at all. It really shows that he is the most cunning Pokémon to ever live, being able to come up with a sentence like that.

“Thank you,” she answers, a light smile on her face. Wait, how can she even smile with her beak? That does not make any sense! But now that he thinks about it, neither does him having legs that only exist when he stands or sits, so who cares?

“So… Do you have a place to go to, or stay? Or maybe an idea on how to become a human again?”

Pah, as if that was possible at all. Even if it was, he would make sure to ruin any way for her to regain her original form – simply because it would break her to know that there was a way, only for it to be denied to her. Ah, he’s so cunning.

Anyways, conversation.

“I… I don’t know. I don’t remember anything…” The smile falters and is replaced with desperation.

(Yes, be sad! That is part of his revenge, making her feel sad!)

“Well, if you do not know where to go… As I said, you fight well,” he starts and really? Is he really going to use the same dumb compliment again? His persuasiveness really needs some brushing up, it seems.

“Might I offer you,” he therefore continues, “I mean, would you be willing… to form an exploration team with me?” He is going to wash out his mouth after saying this. He never wanted to be part of one! Never!

Pearl stares at him, and then, a smile appears just as fast as it disappeared before. “I would like that!”

Ugh. Seems like the stories he told while in the Dungeon paid off.

“Great,” he answers, trying to sound as enthusiastic as he can. He is really not looking forward to joining the Wigglytuff Guild. And not only because he hates Chatot.

But he would do anything to ensure that his plan works, and so, off to the guild they are.

 

There is some trouble once they try to enter the guild, because Diglett, for some reason, is not able to properly recognize a Piplup’s footprint. And really, come on, if it was Darkrai standing there, undisguised, he would understand having some problems, but a Piplup? They are not common, but they are not uncommon either! So, after that trouble, they finally enter the guild, properly recognized.

Thinking about it, Diglett actually had problems recognizing Darkrai -as-a-floating-Duskull’s-footprint when he came here in the first place. Maybe he is just a worse sentry than anyone has yet come to realize.

Then, there is Chatot again, and if Darkrai had not had the chance before to beat up some idiots… he might have tried strangling Chatot instead. As it is, they are led before Wigglytuff, who stares at them for an uncomfortably long time before asking for the name of their team.

(Does he know something he should not know? That cannot be, Darkrai made sure never to slip up!)

He leaves the naming business to Pearl – for one, she needs to feel appreciated and secondly, he is… he is not good with names, as ‘Darcy’ has proven. If he read up on it, he would surely become brilliant very fast, but as it is, he has not done so and therefore… his naming skills are sub-par. Although it would be kind of funny to call themselves something like ‘Team I-am-Actually-Darkrai-and-she-is-actually-a-human’. Then again, that is much too long. Team Iadasaah? Team Haasadai?

“Team Sky,” Pearl decides beside him, and admittedly, that is much better, to be honest. Rather cliché, but still acceptable.

“Congratulations! From now on, you’re an official exploration team!” Wigglytuff shouts, and ugh, his poor, non-visible ears! Then, the Pokémon continues with an explanation of what they get, what those things do, yadda yadda.

Sure, ‘Darcy the Duskull’ doesn’t know anything about any of that. Darkrai the Legendary? He probably, no, definitely, knows more than Wigglytuff. He therefore does not truly listen. Even if there was something he did not know, he would be able to figure it out in a matter of minutes.

After that, they get a room, and finally, the two of them get the chance to just fall asleep.

 

“Hey Darcy, this may be a stupid question, but…” Pearl’s voice rouses him out of his state of I-was-almost-asleep-you-nitwit, “Do you know why the Pokémon have been getting aggressive? And why there are more natural disasters?”

Well, yes, actually, he does. But admitting that, ‘Yes, funnily enough that is pretty much my fault,’ would not be very smart. Instead, he tries to shrug his shoulders, only to then realize that, well, Duskull do not really have shoulders.

It is almost the same as the numerous times he posed as Cresselia – he tried to shrug entirely too often, only to realize that… without proper shoulders, it is kind of hard to do so. Instead, he would always have to do that one specific head-movement she does instead (which looks really quite stupid).

(Just another thing proving that he is better than that meddling, overgrown, ugly knock-off-Swanna! He has shoulders, after all, take that, Cresselia!)

So instead of shrugging his non-visible shoulders, he just raises his arms in a gesture that means the same. Only once he has done so, does he realize that, most likely, it is too dark for Pearl to properly see most movements, anyways. Curse her and her daylight-accustomed eyes.

Finally, he decides to just solve the problem verbally.

“I am not quite sure… But I believe it has something to do with how the flow of time has been getting corrupted in the last few weeks. Or, like most other Pokémon put it, messed up.” That is what all the Pokémon in the town say, anyway. Or maybe not all. Just the very few who are a little more perceptive than the rest. And, admittedly, they are kind of right.

“What… What does that mean? How can… the flow of time get messed up?”

Oh, you just need to sabotage Temporal Tower a little, it’s not that hard, he does not say. Instead, he shrugs his arms, again, remembers that she can’t see that, again, and says, “No one truly knows. I do believe that it might have to do with Dialga or his Time Gears, though.” Admitting that much should be no problem – after all, it is so simple, she could have probably put one and one together, herself.

“Oh… Well, maybe, we’ll find everything out, like, properly and then we’ll be able to help everyone!”

“Indeed, that sounds,” counterproductive, “…great. But let us go to sleep now, alright?”

“Yeah, okay! Good night, Darcy!”

“Sleep well… Pearl.”

And finally, the day ends and Darkrai lets himself be embraced by a cruel sleep, wrecked by nightmares.

 

 

Notes:

So that's the first chapter! I hope you enjoyed the read!
The next chapter will be posted on January 13th, so until then, I wish you pleasant days!

Edit Hiatus Update (23.08.2022)

pretty much the same changes as the prologue – changing sentence structure, ensuring better readability, fixing small mistakes
also added some more sentences, which don’t change anything, but just show some things more clearly, because I now know the characters way better

Personal Note: Things are really very different, still. Also, early Darcy is just a delight to read, he’s as self-reflective as a rusted-over bronze mirror.

Chapter 3: Welcome to the Exploitation Guild

Summary:

Last Chapter: Having finally met the once-human, now a Piplup, going by the name of Pearl, Darkrai and she went into their first Mystery Dungeon together, to retrieve the Relic Fragment (somewhat) belonging to Darkrai. After knocking Koffing and Zubat, the thieves of the Fragment, out, they travelled back to the outside, where Darkrai asked Pearl if she would want to form an Exploration Team with him – just because he knew that this had happened in this past, of course. She accepted the proposal, and at the evening of the same day, the two became the newest recruits of the guild.

Notes:

am i still salty about the guild taking 90% of my money? of course not. i would never be. you must mistake my emotions. i love having my money taken away. really.

The next day starts… Not as harsh as Darkrai expected it to. To be honest, with the way all the Pokémon in Trash Town behave, he had expected that Chatot, or maybe one of the other Pokémon of the Exploration Guild, would wake them. Very loudly, most likely – after all, the guild has a Loudred as one of its residents. A Loudred which he could often hear clearly, even when it was hundreds of metres away.

In fact, the times when more than three or four of the guild members would spend time at the town, together, were some of Darkrai’s least favourite. Could he accept their money being brought to the bank? Sure, if they did not insist on small talk. Could he accept them screaming their normal conversations, causing a ruckus, all in front of Dareios’ bank?

… So he may have shouted at them a few times, so what?

They all deserved it. He just hopes that they don’t recall those instances. Or that, if they do, they will just… act as if nothing had happened. He is, of course, not ashamed of his behaviour. But it would be better for Pearl’s opinion of him if he was not revealed as ‘bank clerk who yelled at the guild’s members’.

So, in conclusion, he expected a loud voice to wake him. Not... this failed attempt at shouting, to be honest. “Hey, wake up, you guys. Up and at ‘em…!”

He opens his eye to stare at… a Loudred. The Loudred. Is it not supposed to be… loud? So why is it—, he so quiet, now? But Loudred does not answer the unasked question.

Instead, he tells Darkrai and Pearl to, “Get in gear, alright? Wigglytuff will get angry if you don’t…”

Then, he yawns and trots off, dragging his feet over the ground quite noticeably.

“…Well. That was a rather… thoughtful wake-up call,” Darkrai states, starting to thoroughly stretch himself. He actually feels quite good today. Great, even. Perhaps beating up some idiots and finally getting to properly start on his plan for revenge was something good to happen.

Once he feels completely warmed up, he looks towards Pearl, and asks, “Are you awake already, Hum-, Pearl?”

There, he is even using her name to show how familiar they already are.

There is only silence, until finally, accompanied by a sluggish movement, she groans out “Yeah, yeah, ‘m gettin’ ready…”

Slowly, she pushes herself away from the nest of hay which make up both her and Darkrai’s beds, respectively. Personally, he prefers proper mats, but as he has slept in worse places, he will take it.

Although it did leave an awful amount of wayward hay in his hair, which he will have to pick out when no one can notice. Which is bothersome. Really, truly bothersome. Maybe he should acquire some kind of blanket to place over the hay? It should not be too out of the ordinary, and thus not gather any strange looks, no? A thought for later, perhaps.

He looks towards Pearl again, who finally managed to stand up. She still seems tired, just like the Loudred before. Maybe she is a late riser? Best to remember that for the future, and force her to chance her habits.

But since she makes the effort to stay upright, he decides not to mention it, for now. Instead, he waits until they have almost finished making their way over to where other guild members can be seen, standing in two rows. It is only then when he asks, “Are you quite alright?”

This way, he can spare himself a long answer - there is simply no time for it. And it is also what a good friend would do, anyways. He thinks. He has never truly been anyone’s friend, and no one was ever truly his friend.

(That is unfair on—, a tiny voice tries to remind him. He silences it just in time. There are some things he does not allow himself to think about.)

If he is completely honest with himself, he is just imitating what he has seen others doing. Which is just fitting, because he does not plan on being anyone’s friend, anyway! So if he has to imitate to get it right, he would rather do that than truly become anyone's ‘friend’.

“Yeah…” She slowly nods. “Just a little tired…” And then she yawns, as was to be expected.

Maybe she did not sleep well, her nerves getting to her. She might not have been able to fall asleep for a while. That would make some sense. But as they finally step outside the corridor and Darkrai sees the other Pokémon, he realizes that… they all seem tired.

The following realization is more sudden than he would have liked it to be, than it should have been in the first place: They had nightmares. They had nightmares because Darkrai slept in the guild. He… completely forgot about his Bad Dreams Ability. It should not seem possible but… truly, he did. It has been so long since he affected anyone with it, after all.

Before yesterday, he had been sleeping further outside of town. His ability, seemingly already weakened by the illusion he had to keep active the whole time, simply did not reach anyone but himself. He thinks. Sometimes, his ability would also just wane or wax in random intervals, and he never found the reason for it. He could just be in a waning phase again. In any way, as far as he is aware, his ability did not reach the town's inhabitants. Perhaps they simply chose not to talk about it.

But now that he slept in the guild, he must have once again stayed close enough for other Pokémon to be affected.

Which would explain why everyone seems so tired.

Huh. That is almost a perfect revenge. Nightly bad dreams for everyone! The members of the guild won’t even be able to blame him for it, because Darkrai has nightmares, too! He just adjusted to them a long time ago, and thus barely notices their impact.

(Cresselia only has great dreams, every night. He somewhat, no, he really hates her for it.)

“Everyone seems present…” Chatot croaks, as Pearl and Darkrai fall into place next to the other members. He sounds not as chipper as he did yesterday.

(Revenge, finally!)

Then, Chatot yawns for quite some time until finally, he continues, “Well, if everyone is here, we can conduct our morning address.” Turning to the door behind him, he shouts, or, more accurately, tries so shout but instead interrupts himself with a yawn in the middle of the sentence, “Guildmaster! The guild is," and here is that yawn, "In full attendance!”

Darkrai is honestly surprised by how loud the Pokémon still manages to be. Normally, Pokémon that had to try and sleep through his nightmares for a full night behave more like… everyone else standing around him. Barely noticing what is happening due to overtiredness, constantly yawning, fighting the urge to let their eyes fall closed. Although, perhaps his ability is not only weakened in its reach by the illusion, but also its intensity? He has no way to test, but maybe, if he had an even more draining illusion going on, others would not be caught in—

No, what is he thinking?! What would he want that for? He hopes that the nightmares are still as bad as they always are. Everyone here deserves them. If they had not wanted the bad dreams, they should not have confronted Darkrai. Will not confront Darkrai. Will not send Pearl and her real friend, and Cresselia, to have confronted him… Or something. Whatever.

And then, the door opens, its noise stopping Darkrai’s thoughts. Instead, he focuses on Wigglytuff stepping out, coming to a halt in front of them. His eyes are open, and just when Darkrai thinks that he is about to say something, he… snores.

What. That is… Is he still asleep? No, that is not possible, is it? Unless he knew Sleep Talk, but even then, still moving around, almost acting like he is awake… no, that does not make any sense! Besides, he is seemingly sleeping peacefully, and that is not possible within Darkrai’s vicinity! And his eyes are open!

Nothing else happens. The Guildmaster seems truly asleep. Which simply cannot be.

He must be acting, Darkrai decides. For what reason, he really does not understand. Maybe he takes some kind of… substances. His behaviour does seem more logical with that explanation.

Chatot, not knowing of Darkrai’s contemplations, simply harrumphs, as no answer beside the snoring comes, and then just states that they should, “Take our Guildmaster’s words to heart.”

… What words?

But, as it turns out, these 'words' of the Guildmaster were still more merciful than what follows. It is some kind of horribly cheesy ‘morning cheer’, which is recited by the entire assembled group. Even Wigglytuff's mouth moves slightly, mouthing along to the words (and that is most definitely proof that he is just pretending to sleep, for some reason).

Pearl turns around to look at Darkrai, as if to ask, ‘Is this normal?’

He just shrugs. Unfortunately, it probably is. He does not care to know and does not want to be a part of it. Even the Pokémon around him, who recite it dutifully, seem to only think about getting some more sleep.

“One! Don’t shirk work!”

There go his plans for today.

“Two! Run away and pay!”

And his plans for tomorrow.

“Three! Smiles go for miles!”

Now that is just excluding Pokémon like him, who cannot smile in ways easily visible to others.

Really, what kind of… rules are these? These are not real recommendations for the life of an explorer! They do not construct a real framework in which to work in, they do not give any tips young explorers might need. Their wording is just… ‘Be a good Pokémon’, really, in more words than necessary and with no explanation as to what being a good Pokémon actually entails.

How should he know what is considered good? What if his definition of being good entails not smiling, running away and shirking work? Ugh, he should not think about this, to be entirely honest. These rules were made by Pokémon far beneath him, and as such, they would obviously not seem logical to him. What was he expecting, really?

“Okay, Pokémon!” Chatot cries, seemingly more awake now after having to hear this awful noise, “Get to work!”

And everyone is off, most dragging their feet or similar appendages behind them. Well, almost everyone – Darkrai and Pearl, being considered new recruits, obviously have to stay behind. Sure, they try to move away on their own, but get called back immediately.

Then, they are led up one story to the Job Bulletin Board, and explained its use. So much unnecessary information – Darkrai makes sure to immediately forget it. Instead, he stares around the room, trying to remember it for future reference. It is covered in grass and the occasional flowers (not unlike his local residence – after trying to get rid of the grass, in the end, he decided that really, it was a losing battle and he could spend his time in better ways), as well as vines and even two bushes. They are still beneath the ground, are they not? But there are big windows strewn around the room, which might explain why these plants managed to not only survive, but also thrive.

The most important things, of course, are the two wooden job boards, which appear to be nailed unto the walls rather roughly. Did they not have any Pokémon on hand who could do a better job at it? There is a Timburr living in Trash Town, Darkrai knows for a fact. Who knows, she may have even built those boards. Being a Timburr does not necessarily mean she must be naturally good at building things. Or enjoy it.

Chatot harrumphing loudly draws Darkrai out of his thoughts. “A-hem! You are paying attention, are you not, Duskull?”

“Of course I am,” he answers, keeping his voice completely calm, “My face might, however, not be able to reflect that clearly.” Like this, Chatot cannot call him out on what he was actually doing without being considered incredibly rude. Hah, take that, bothersome bird. Darkrai is still a masterful manipulator.

“Just making sure! All of this is incredibly important to know. But anyways, as I pointed out, most of the jobs on our boards are situated within Mystery Dungeons. Now, Mystery Dungeons do not work like—"

Darkrai interrupts. “We already know how they work.”

“You do?” The bird cocks his head to the right, then to the left, then to the right again.

“Yeah! Darcy explained all about them to me yesterday, while we were in the… what did you say its name was? Beach Cave?”

Darkrai nods.

“Yeah, so, the Beach Cave! So we’ve actually already been in one!” Pearl finishes her statement. Her words, finally, seem to make Chatot decide to believe their words. Typical. Darkrai is always mistrusted, no matter what he does.

“Well, that makes things much easier for me to explain!” he chirps, fluttering his wings obnoxiously.

“Great,” Darkrai forces out, not in the least thinking this word to be the truth.

“However, do note that now that you are part of the guild, you cannot go into Dungeons whenever you want! Some are very dangerous, and as such, each of your daily assignments will first have to be approved by either me or the Guildmaster!”

… Wonderful. Just wonderful. Darkrai was around when Mystery Dungeons first came into existence, but leave it to this bird to think himself important enough to deny Darkrai entry into whichever Dungeon he wants to enter.

Sometimes, he really hates the plan he came up with.

“So, for today I would assign the two of you this job!” With these words, Chatot hands over a piece of paper to Pearl. Excuse him? Did Chatot just assume that the Piplup is the leader of their little group?

With a huff, he decides not to say anything. Instead, he looks at the paper.

“Hello! My name is Spoink!” it reads, and what a horrible beginning. Do they not teach proper writing etiquette in this town? What is he thinking, of course they do not. “An outlaw has run off with my most prized possession. My precious pearl!”, yadda yadda. Apparently, the pearl – the object, not the person –  somehow ended up in a Mystery Dungeon known as ‘Drenched Bluff’. Well. It could be worse. Darkrai has already gone there a few times.

But still… a fetch quest? Really? Darkrai barely holds back from telling Chatot, where, exactly, he can stuff his stupid fetch quests. He is a simple Duskull, now, he reminds himself almost like a mantra, a simple Duskull that always wanted to become an explorer. Of course he will do simple jobs. Because he so loves helping other Pokémon.

(Huh, it is kind of funny that Pearl’s first job is to retrieve a pearl.)

After a few more warnings, which he tunes out, they are finally allowed to leave. Wonderful. They guild is already grating on his nerves, and it has not even been a day.

 

“So, uh… what exactly are we going to do?” Pearl asks as they wander along the path that will lead them to the Drenched Bluff. It’s not much more than a walk of about fifteen minutes, of which ten have already passed in silence. Well, almost. Pearl was humming at first, but he told her off, and since then, there has been silence.

Uncomfortable silence, some would say, to which Darkrai would answer that no silence is uncomfortable if you do not care about the emotions of those around you. So, from his point of view, it is a very comfortable silence.

Which has just been broken.

He sniffs at first, but finally deigns to answer, “… You have the paper. Read it.”

“Well, uh, first of all, I don’t. I put it in your bag while you weren’t looking.”

First of all: What?! Secondly: Why, exactly, did it have to be him to carry the bag in the first place?

“Don’t get angry, it weighs pretty much nothing! And, uh, you don’t need to give it to me. Because I kinda, uh… I…” She scratches her head, which looks… well, nitty. It is a very human movement, of course, but she is no human, and thus, it simply looks off. She continues, “I don’t think I know whatever writing system it’s written in?”

Darkrai stops in his tracks to simply stare at her, deadpan. “Are you trying to tell me that you cannot read?”

“I can! I’m sure I can. Just… not that particular script?”

“’That particular script’ is footprint runes, the most common writing system in use in this century. The one before it, too.”

“Well, common for Pokémon or humans?” she says, a scowl appearing on her face. “I told you, I was a human!”

Hm. That… actually makes sense. Not that Darkrai is about to admit so out loud. “Then you should learn it as fast as possible. I will not read everything out to you.”

“Yeah, okay, you don’t need to or anything! But can you please still tell me what we are supposed to do? I just… acted like I knew it so that Chatot wouldn’t get angry at me, but I would still like to know.”

Darkrai keeps from rolling his eye. Wonderful. Now he has to work as a communicator. Speaker? What, exactly, would the word for this be? Narrator? Interpreter?

In any way, he explains. Because Darcy is just such a great friend to Pearl.

“We have to retrieve a pearl for a Spoink from the Drenched Bluff. Which is where we are currently heading, and look, over there is the entrance.” And with that, he floats ahead, intent on not making anymore small talk, or whatever this just now was.

 

The retrieval of the pearl is not complicated at all. He leaves most of the fighting to Pearl, since she obviously needs the experience – well, not really, because he does not want her to get too strong. But it would also be annoying to always have to save her, even in easy fights, right? As he always had to do with Cress—

… Whatever.

Darkrai just lets her train. Safe himself some headaches later. Besides, it is no hassle for him to sometimes chime in with a Dark Pulse when a Pokémon turns out too strong for Pearl alone. He still does not know which attacks he can 'legally' use, unfortunately. But he thinks that Dark Pulse should be alright. If only he could remember more than four attacks at once, but alas, Arceus decided to not give him that possibility. One of many stupid decisions.

The first floors of the Dungeon, they once again spend in silence, which Darkrai enjoys. He really, really hates Pearl, and so, there is nothing to be gained from talking – but then he remembers that they have to become incredibly good friends. The best of friends. And thus, he starts asking questions. How annoying.

Still, everything to one day get the sweetest possible revenge.

However, it proves rather… exhausting to ask an amnesiac questions about themselves.

“So… What is your favourite colour?” he tries. That is a question he has heard rather often when other Pokémon get to know each other. That means it should be useable.

Pearl seems to ponder the question, and then, very sadly, answers, “I don’t know.”

“Oh,” he says, and not knowing what else to say, he adds, “Mine is black.” He does not actually have one, of course, but if he had to choose anything, it would be black.

“Black? That’s… rather depressing, isn’t it?”

Depressing? Black, depressing? As if! It is the greatest colour!

“It is not-,” he defends the greatest colour, “Depressing. It is… elegant. And calming.” He stares ahead. “Anyways. What is your favourite food?”

That is also a question he has heard numerous times.

Pearl thinks about it, then sighs. “I don’t know.”

Ah yes. She is amnesiac.

“Well, then… What did you like best about Trash-, Treasure Town?”

That gets her interest.

“Treasure Town?”

And with this, he realizes, right, she has not been there, yet! Perfect, that is a chance to bond with her! Not that he wants to bond. No, the bonding will be entirely one-sided. Still, he has to use every chance he gets, lest she choose another Pokémon to be her best friend.

Like… Chatot. A shiver wrecks his body at the mere thought of it.

“It is the town right outside of the guild,” he therefore explains, “But you have probably not been there before, else I would have most likely seen you before finding you.”

“You would’ve? Did you live there- no, actually, what did you do before I met you?” Suddenly, she sounds very chipper. She even seems to be rocking on the tips of her… feet? Talons? Is that the right word? It doesn’t feel right. How can she even rock on them while they are moving? Do springy steps count as rocking if one does it in… two directions?

Ugh, he is getting a headache, and she is still talking, so he has to concentrate on that. “You’ve like, got your memories, right? What am I saying, of course you have them! So you had a life before yesterday! What was it like? You said there’s a town, you lived there, right? What did you do? Do Pokémon have like, jobs, besides being explorers? Did you have a job? What was it? And what other Pokémon are in the town, are there humans, too, and-”

“Stop!” he cries out, overwhelmed. Those are too many questions! Besides, those are private questions, the worst kind of questions to be asked!

He takes a deep, calming breath for his rapidly beating heart. He does not need to answer the questions truthfully, after all. No need to get worked up.

“Too many questions at once,” he explains.

“Oh,” Pearl breaths out, staring at her feet for a few seconds and then starting to fiddle with her hands, “I’m sorry, I just got… excited. So, one question at a time?”

“One question at a time,” he confirms.

She seems to think, as just before she speaks, she makes a small nod – probably deciding on the question. “Alright, so, did you live there before?”

“I did,” he answers, and then, feeling generous, decides to add, “My cousin – he is the resident banker - lived there before me, I mostly helped him out. Perhaps, after we find the pearl and bring it back, I can show the town to you, if you so desire?”

She perks up at that. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. We are friends, after all,” he claims, the word leaving a disgusting taste in his mouth.

… Now that he thinks about it, where do Duskull even have their mouths? Is it hidden under the mask? He has never seen Dareios eat before, now that he thinks about it. He has seen him take food, and when he looked again, said food was gone… But he never saw him take a bite. Pretending to be another species of Pokémon was, to be entirely honest, confusing.

“Okay, so next question! Where…”

Pearl continues her interrogation, and with it, the passing of time seems to slow. Darkrai hates being asked any personal questions, even if the answers are mostly made up. And socialising is just… exhausting, in general.

He wishes this day was over already.

 

They return to the guild in the afternoon, Spoink’s pearl easily secured. The Pokémon proves how thankful it is by paying them a considerable sum of money, which makes it almost worth the effort. Is it normal for Pokémon to pay explorers this much? Because if it is, Darkrai should really have done this much sooner.

(Not that he really has a need for much money, to be honest, nor a desire.)

However, once Spoink has left the guild, and Chatot overseen the successful end to their first assignment, a nasty surprise follows.

“Now hand that money over, if you please!” Chatot now flutters over from where he watched before, and chirps these words as if they are… well, not whatever they are supposed to be.

“Excuse you?” Darkrai asks back, gobsmacked, and next to him Pearl seems equally shocked. It doesn’t stop her from handing over the money as if on instinct, though. Such a benighted creature.

Chatot’s following explanation does not explain anything. “Most of the money from jobs goes to the Guildmaster, you see! And the Guild, of course!”

What.

“And your team’s share of the money comes out to this much…!” Chatot hands 200 Poké back over to Pearl.

What?! They were paid ten times that amount by Spoink! This is--

“Excuse you?!” Darkrai repeats, a lot more force behind his words now.

But Chatot simply flutters his wings again, and says, “That’s the guild’s rule. You simply have to accept it!”

“But-, That is a share of 90%! That is too much!” he forces out, forcing down the hand he wants to slap the bird with.

“Well, considering that the money goes towards paying for board and lodging, as well as training you to be proper explorers and taking care of any and all medical attention you may need, I do believe it quite fair,” the stupid bird answers and Darkrai cannot help but sputter at the sheer gall.

“Even if you count all of that, it would not come out as 90%! The-, my cousin at the bank does not take an interest that high!” he objects, not really knowing exceedingly much about the inner workings of guilds and how much money one would need for it. But even then, he is still sure that this amount must be too much.

“Well, your cousin also does not do all of the things the guild now does for you for his clients, now does he?” Chatot sounds as if he has made a great point. Darkrai wants to kill him a little more. “I assure you, the guild has calculated the costs very carefully and this is what we’ve decided on after taking everything into account. Now, you can either take your share or also donate it to the guild.” The threat in the cursed Chatot’s words is clear.

Take what I offer you or get nothing, is what remains unsaid and this once, just this once, Darkrai very unhappily has to accept defeat. He huffs and averts his gaze, the walls suddenly seeming much more interesting. They are very… uh… walls. They are walls.

Just the bedlamite bird wait. Once Darkrai takes his revenge, he might just decide to pluck out all of his feathers, one by one, while the other is fully conscious. And then, once that is done, give him a nightmare which just repeats the scenario, forever and ever.

No more objections being spoken, Chatot nods a final time, and then with a “See you at dinner!” crowed, skips away, carrying way too much money which is not his with him. Darkrai watches him out of the corner of his eye.

Only then does Darkrai finally look away from the wall, to share what must be a rather defeated look with Pearl. He sees his feelings clearly reflected in her face.

“I… did not know that they take that much money,” he admits.

“Well…” She seems to think, “I mean, we do live here now, and they are… kind of training us. And where else could we go?”

Darkrai scoffs, “If training means just being left to our own devices, I guess.”

“Yeah… But I mean, we also got breakfast. Like Chatot implied, that has to cost something.”

“But not that much! This is-, it is… a capitalistic scheme!” he fusses, “And if I felt that I had to eat something, we could just find some apples or berries in the next best Dungeon!”

Pearl sighs. “Yeah, that’s true. But…” She trails of, unsure.

“But?”

“Uh… would you still show me the town?” She smiles shyly.

Oh yeah, he promised her that, did he not? He might as well. Dareios will probably also want to know that he finally joined the guild. Not that he really cares for Dareios. He never has, and never will. But for his cover not to be blown, he needs to act as if he does, and that means telling the other about how he is faring.

“… Of course. We might not have much money to spend, but…” he trails off, unsure where he was going with that.

“Thank you!” Pearl simply interrupts, once again shooting him a big grin.

 

However, Chatot once again ruins their plans. Just before they are able to leave the guild, the bird cuts off their way out.

“And what, exactly, are you two planning to do, now?”

“Darcy wanted to show me the town, Mr. Chatot.”

“Oh. Well. Sorry, but you can’t go out now. And you don’t need to call me Mister, after all, we’re a big family now!”

A family that takes all of the others hard earned money for selfish reasons— Well, alright, that actually sounds like the ‘family’ Darkrai has known before. Cresselia is an absolute menace when it comes to accounting. And not in a good way.

But that is beside the topic. The topic at the time being the question if this bird truly wants to be killed so much? Because Darkrai is only barely holding back from doing so right now.

“Why… can we not go out?” Darkai forces out instead of killing anyone, trying his best to not sound too murderous. A little bit of his intent might have still slipped through, considering the way Chatot eyes him.

“Because dinner will be served soon, Duskull! Honestly, you need to work on actually listening to what I’m saying, I can already tell. Besides, aren’t you a little tired?”

“I am not.” He somewhat is, but he is not going to admit that.

Chatot stares. Darkrai stares right back. He can do this the whole day, Duskull don’t have eyelids, after all, so get ready to lose, stupid bird.

The clearing of a throat makes the two of them jump in surprise and lose eye contact.

He did not lose! The bird looked away first!

“Uh… actually, I am a little tired. Let’s just stay here, for now, alright?” Is this Pearl’s attempt at keeping the peace? It must be. Well. Only this once will he allow it to work.

“Alright. But I will show you the town another time.”

Pearl laughs. It sounds a little shy. Or embarrassed? Or maybe another emotion. He does not care. “Thank you.”

And so, they make their way down to the lowest level of the guild building, where dinner will be taking place in the so-called dining hall. To be honest, calling it that might be something of a euphemism. It is simply a room with a few planks laid on top of wooden stilts – a mockery of a table, if anything. And are they simply supposed to drink from the spring within the room just… like this? Because Darkrai does not see any cups. Not that most Pokémon use those.

Still, the ones with manners (and hands) do.

Once all of the guild’s members have filtered in and gathered around the ‘table’, dinner starts. Alright, maybe some words are said before that, but Darkrai is not in the mood for paying attention, still caught up on the issue of cups. Seems like those really won’t be used, or even offered. But at least there are plates.

Small mercies, he reminds himself. He needs to look for the small mercies, or he will have to abandon this plan.

However, the guild’s members do not make this easy for him. Dinner is truly… Well. They openly show what lesser beings they are. And, of course, he had expected it – the Pokémon making up the guild are nuisances at best, and imbeciles at worst. He had seen them often enough in town to know that. But still, watching two Pokémon many steps away from the bank eat like beasts was one thing. Being placed on a table alongside all nine of them, with Wigglytuff standing to the side and doing some kind of ritualistic seeming dance with an apple on his head, is much, much worse.

The noises become a cacophony of champing and slurping, only interrupted by the occasional attempt of someone speaking with their mouth full. It is horrid, and Darkrai really just wants to clamp his hands over his ears.

But he can’t. Instead, he has to sit here, and pretend that he is not bothered at all by any of it.

He hates this. He hates them.

The final straw is the moment that Pearl also starts digging in as if she was one of those beasts. Is Darkrai really the only one on the entire guild with some manners? Probably. He really wants to just… move out of the room, but instead, he addresses Pearl.

 “Use your hands,” he scolds her, his voice coming out not as the ‘friendly chastisement’ he had intended to, but more an angry hiss. She looks at him confused.

“I… Everyone else is…?”

“Well, you are not everyone else, are you?” he sniffs.

Pearl averts her gaze, mumbling, “I thought it’s just how Pokémon do it…”

But then, after a moment, she does try to eat in a much more… composed way. Much more human-seeming, too.

He will accept the attempt. For now.

At least this night, Pearl does not try talking to him too much – a few unnecessary questions about his life in Treasure Town, for which he makes the answers up on the go – but the second her head hits the hay, she is fast asleep.

Huh. Maybe she really was tired.

 

 

 

 

Notes:

And that concludes the second chapter! The next one will be uploaded on the Kalends of February, meaning, the 01.02.2021.
I've had the headcanon that Darkrai not only makes others have nightmares, but himself as well, for some time now and decided to add it to the story. I mean, it would definitely explain his continuous bad mood and the dark rings under his eyes (although those could also be kajal. who knows). I do think that for the story and what is to come, it works.
Secondly, regarding Pokémon and pronouns - and if that isn't a can of worms. I have decided that there are four common ways to refer to Pokémon, those being:
"he" - if the Pokémon identifies as male
"she" - if the Pokémon identifies as female
"they" - if the Pokémon identifies as both, neither, or anything in between
and finally,
"it" - now this one is somewhat complicated, but as I write this story, "it" is not used in a negative way. Instead, it describes a Pokémon which has:
a) not yet been identified as any of the other pronouns
b) not reached an age to identify itself as any of the other pronouns
c) not shown itself willing to be identified as anything (feral Pokémon would fall in that category, more often than not)
or
d) any other reasons to not be identified with any of the other pronouns
I do understand that, when used for people, "it" is not only rude but also wrong to be used, but since Pokémon ARE very often called "it" and I was somewhat missing a fourth pronoun for some aspects of the story, I decided on that. Hope I cleared up any possible future confusion.
With all of that out of the way, thank you so much for the kudos, comments and bookmark! Every time I'd check in with the story and see something had popped up, I'd grin like a Cheshire cat. Still do, simply thinking about it, in fact. So from the depths of my heart, thank you!

Edit Hiatus Update (02.09.2022):
some fixing of mistakes
also some more elaborations at certain parts, but they are only for a little world building

Personal Note: Not much to say tbh. It’s a solid chapter, but also a little boring, isn’t it? Or maybe just to me, who has read it… quite often by now.

Chapter 4: Nightmares may induce Drowzee-ness

Summary:

Last Chapter: Having joined the guild, Pearl and Darkrai spent their first night there. This revealed to Darkrai that he now gives nightmares to everyone in the guild – something he relished in. The following day, Pearl and he were sent out on their first assignment, which they finished successfully. Soon after, their first day came to its end.

Notes:

help Darkrai’s bullying poor Bidoof who’s only trying to help and really does not deserve all of this

Once again, they are awoken by the Loudred that isn’t very loud. Or, well, Pearl is. That Darkrai lay awake once the sun started to rise was definitely not because he had had worse nightmares than usual. Because that would imply that he still cares whether certain others get hurt or not. Which he does not.

No, he was awake because… because of his reversed wake-sleep-cycle. Yes. That must be it. Never mind that he’s had to force himself to be awake at day for literal years now.

But at least Loudred is still not very loud. Thank Arceus for the nightmares he gave him. He is still too loud, in Darkrai’s opinion, but they could have ended up with a worse Loudred. Probably.

Pearl gingerly rubs the sleepiness from her eyes. Unfortunately for her, it does nothing against the slight circles forming beneath them.

(Yes, feel my wrath, stupid hero!)

Still, he asks, “Did you sleep well?”, even going so far as to make it sound sincere. After all, Darcy-the-Duskull does not know if she did.

Even if it is obvious that she did not. So now, in his never-ending revenge, he will even force her to acknowledge that!

She groans. “Well enough.”

… It is obvious that the answer was not the truth, so why not admit it? She is not a liar! At least he thinks that she is not. It is not as if he knew her well before he decided to get rid of her. He just knew that she was the ‘hero’, and those are not supposed to lie. Are they?

And then, she actually dares to turn to him and ask, “And you?”

“Well… I … I had a few nightmares,” he helplessly stutters out. Oh no. That was the truth! He was not supposed to admit that! He never tells the truth, unless he does, which is… when he decides to do so, but not merely because he could not think of a better answer fast enough! Maybe having been awake already did not help his mind to truly wake. Or perhaps brewing on his nightmares for too long was also a bad idea.

“Ah, me too, actually,” she answers with a small, tired smile, “But I guess it could be worse.”

Darkrai scoffs, trying to change the subject of the conversation. “If worse means reciting the stupid morning cheer, you are probably in for a bad surprise.”

sWhy did he ever think joining the guild was a good idea, even for a plan of revenge?

And then-, Then she actually dares to laugh! As if she finds his cynical humour… funny! Now she is just making fun of him, he knows it! Well, if she wants to play by those rules, he will play by them, too!

… Once he has figured out what they actually are.

They make their way over to the hall of the guild with no more words spoken, and yes, the morning cheer is indeed recited once again. As well as the ‘words’ by their ‘Guildmaster’ (just snoring, again). Darkrai really hopes that this does not happen every day, because it is clear to him that Wigglytuff is just acting, for whatever reason. If it happens thrice… Well, he would probably not do anything, as to not blow his cover, but he would be very annoyed.

He is already annoyed enough that he has to recite the tenets like everyone else. It is only his second day here, and with how Chatot has already decided to dislike him, he really should not step more out of line.

Not that he really says it. He only acts as if doing so, until he realizes that Duskull don’t have visible mouths, and that no one will be able to tell whether he moved it or not. Besides, even the other Pokémon are not entirely at it, most of them visibly tired. What beautiful work his nightmares did.

(Yes! Suffer!)

He cannot even remember how the chant went, now that he thinks about it. Make someone pay? Shirk work? He does not care.

As soon as it is finished, he decides to move up to the job board – he is part of the guild now, if he likes it or not (he does not), so he needs to act like a normal member.

But instead of simply allowing him to do so, Pearl and he are once again intercepted by Chatot. Said bird then explains to them the board on the other side – this one being the one showing the outlaws. Darkrai tunes out the bird’s words, and instead searches the board for his own face. He keeps back a sigh of relief when he does not find it there. That is good. It means they really do not know about him.

Not that they have a reason to. Excluding the sabotage of Temporal Tower (which his past self has most definitely already accomplished in this time), his last ‘bad’ deed which was noticed by others, excluding Cresselia… must be over 300 years in the past now. Long enough for new generations of Pokémon to come and go, forgetting that he ever did anything in the first place.

Except for particularly long-lived ones, like Ninetales, and, of course, Legendaries. They have definitely not forgotten, although a few have perhaps decided to forgive him by now. Nitwits. Although nitwits he is willing to tolerate as long as they do not attack him on sight. Like… others.

He looks at the board again. There, that seems like a promising job – and there is a bounty of 7000 Poké on the outlaw’s head, which means that Darkrai will be left with 700 in the end, correct?

“Now, of course we can’t let you take any of the hard jobs, yet – for now, you will be sticking to the lowest rank!”

“I am perfectly capable of taking on strong enemies,” Darkrai claims, knowing that, if they turn out too strong, he will absolutely abandon whatever mission he had. He is not a coward, of course – unlike someone who goes by a name starting with “C” and ending with “resselia” likes to claim – he simply knows when he is outmatched. So what if he flees if he finds himself being on the losing side? No fight is worth losing his life over.

“Sure, sure. That’s what all of our recruits said at first, but after too many injuries, we decided not to believe them anymore!” Chatot crows, his eyes narrowed. Darkrai can feel his own eye narrowing in turn.

This thrice-cursed Chatot… He cannot wait until it is time to take his revenge.

“Anyways, before we choose a job for you, I think I will have someone give you a tour of the facilities.”

Great. He knows where his bed is, he knows where he can get food, so why insist on showing him anything else? So what if the building has three floors, filled with useless Pokémon and even more useless facilities? He does not care! At all! Once he has created a dark world to his liking, the guild will be destroyed, anyways. He will make sure of it.

And even worse, Chatot chooses a Bidoof to show them around! A Bidoof! A Bidoof who acts like a crybaby, just because it now isn’t considered the rookie anymore! Maybe Darkrai should just give up on this plan. He might have thought before that Trash Town was bad, but this-this Exploitation Guild is even worse!

In the end, he decides not to say anything and instead just follows Bidoof and Pearl through the guild. He also does not listen in on whatever they are talking about. Useless things, most definitely.

Pearl, at least, seems to be enjoying it. Wait, no, Pearl should not be enjoying it, it is no proper revenge if she is just happy!

But she also needs to trust him, and to trust him, he needs to do things that make her happy… he guesses.

Ugh, being a good guy is bothersome.

But he endures the full tour of the guild, up until the moment when Bidoof moves to show them Trash Town.

“I do apologize,” he says, his tone indicating that he is very much not sorry, having crept up unnoticed behind Bidoof. The Pokémon cries out in shock, and Darkrai cannot help but snicker (Curse you, Dareios!). Small revenges are great. “But I already know the town.”

“Wait, you do?” Bidoof sounds surprised.

“…Yes.” He drawls out slowly. “I have been living here for the past few years.” In fact, he saw Bidoof a few times during the last weeks, but chose not to engage with the idiotic imbecile. In hindsight, it was the right decision. He spared himself multiple headaches, he is sure.

“You have??” Now, the other sounds almost panicked.

“… Yes. I have. I work at the bank, sometimes.”

“Golly… I don’t think we ever really properly met, I’m so, so sorry! And like this, I probably can’t show you anything new…”

“Exactly.” Darkrai throws Bidoof a frosty gaze, intent to make him turn tail and flee.

“Uh… I just, uh… I came here just yesterday and don’t know the town yet?” Pearl pipes up, and what a traitor she is. Truly despicable. Whatever begrudging not-hateful emotions Darkrai felt for her the last two days, he takes them all back.

“I already promised to show it to you,” he interrupts whatever Bidoof was going to answer. Having been shown the guild was annoying enough.

“Well… both of you could show it to me?” Pearl suggests, “This way, I’ll definitely learn everything about it that there is!”

… There may just be a good schemer hidden within her, seeing how she is trying to influence both of them simultaneously. And yes, of course, Darkrai can easily see through it, but Bidoof certainly can’t. And if Darkrai is willing to allow her to succeed with this little manipulation this once, perhaps this streak of hers might even be even be strengthened?

He still plans to kill her by the end of this all, of course, but it would be fun to see her become less of a hero before that.

Well. Alright. Seems as if it has been decided. He will let her manipulate him this once.

And so, he simply harrumphs and crosses his arms, as he and Pearl follow Bidoof outside and towards Trash Town.

It is then that Pearl lets herself fall back a little, and whispers, “Hey, it’s nothing personal, okay? He just seems so happy to be able to show us the town, I didn’t want to make him sad.”

Darkrai looks in a different direction and acts as if he did not hear her.

“Don’t be offended, please? I know that you are still the much better guide!”

“Indeed, I am,” he huffs. It is smart of her to acknowledge that.

As he puts his hands behind his back again, he can see her failing to suppress a smile. He lets it slide, just this once. Only because she told him that he is the best guide around.

 

It is a sunny day (as it almost always is, during summer), and Darkrai hates it. Rainy days, he can deal with. Cloudy days, he might almost like. But sunny days? They hurt his eyes and just remind him that instead of sleeping, he has to act as if being awake when the sun is out is acceptable to him.

He cannot wait for his world of darkness.

And of course, since the Duskull Bank is situated only a very short way away from the Guild – the closest shop, in fact, the only buildings closer are a few houses and tents – they do not even manage to get to the main square before Dareios notices them. Which means social interaction.

“Darrrcy!” Dareios calls out to Darkrai, rolling the “r” as he sometimes does. Darkrai is actually not sure why or when he does it – he only does so sometimes when he says the name ‘Darcy’. It is rather strange.

“Good evening, Cousin Dareios,” he answers, proper. Best to clear up who Dareios is to him for Pearl before she has to ask.

“Wait, you are cousins??” Ah, yes, Bidoof is still here, too. How annoying.

“Indeed we are, young Bidoof,” Dareios answers, and before Darkrai has the chance for a more scathing remark, the banker has turned towards Pearl. “Who is the little lady beside you? And where have you been, Darcy? I didn’t see you at all since ere-yesterday morning, what a sorrow.” He snickers.

“Uh, I’m Pearl, nice to meet you!” Pearl answers before Darkrai even has the chance to explain anything.

Being interrupted before starting to speak is annoying.

In the short pause after her introduction, Darkrai hurries to clear any possible questions up. “She is my new partner – we are now an exploration team.”

“So you finally started on your plan,” another snicker, “Didn’t you?”

“My… plan?”

“To join the guild, of course.” And there it is, another snicker. Honestly, with mainly this guy around for the last few years, is it a wonder that he started to snicker all the time, too? Besides, a proper snicker is almost as good as a proper evil laugh! Just as death has sleep as a brother, an evil laugh has a snicker as a sister. Or something.

“Ah. Yes. I did.” He wants this conversation to be over, already. Besides, he only mentioned interest in joining a guild one single time, namely when Dareios asked him about it! And he had never wanted it to be the Wigglytuff Guild.

“You’ve been planning to join the guild for a longer time, Darcy?” Bidoof suddenly chimes in. Darkrai turns to him, not even trying to hold back from showing his murderous glare.

“It is Duskull for you, Bidoof,” he hisses, and then continues, perfectly amicable but with a very noticeable note of iciness beneath it, “And yes. I have. Although I do not see why it is of any interest to you.”

He sees the Pokémon visibly shrinking with each of his words. It is a great feeling, one he has missed since illusioning himself as a mere Duskull. To see that he is still able to instil fear in other Pokémon with mere words? Exhilarating.

Dareios’ snicker eases the situation. “Always with that sharp tongue, cousin. Do take no offence, Bidoof, he is simply a cactus that one day became a Duskull.”

“I am not.”

Pear, who had previously just seemed somewhat confused, now hurries to cough, trying to hide the snicker which escaped her.

However, it makes Darkrai realize that… She was human before, which would explain why she seemed so confused when he insisted on being called Duskull by Bidoof. Most likely, she is not aware of the naming systems here. Most humans are not.

Meaning that he might have to explain it to her, later. Great.

“Anyhow, Pearl, Cousin Darcy, if you are now explorers, do you want to deposit some of your money with me? And what a sorrow, now that you have another job, I will have to face all the customers without your snarky comments, dear Cousin.”

Darkrai keeps from rolling his eye. “You are imagining things. I do not make snarky comments.”

“Simply observations, yes, yes, you did tell me already.” Dareios snickers. “Anyways, will you want a shared account?”

Darkrai looks to Pearl, questioningly. She is holding unto his, well, their, money for the moment. Not that it is much.

Darkrai does have a little more in his own account, but he is not about to share it.

“Uh…” She looks to Darkrai, “You said that, if we were to be knocked out in a Dungeon, most of it will probably be stolen, right?”

“You are correct. But do you think we will ever faint?” Not with him on their side, definitely not. But with Darcy the Duskull? It might just happen.

“I…” Suddenly, she laughs.

What? What is so funny?

“Well, considering that you found me fainted on the beach, it might just be the smartest course of action to leave it with your cousin!”

“Oh… yes. That is… indeed true.” He really does not know what else to say.

“A smart decision! A new, shared account it is then. Your money will rest here in peace. Forever, if you wish.” And then, Dareios snickers. What a surprise.

 

After that, they finally continue to the main square. Bidoof, now visibly more dejected-looking than when they started, still explains a few thing for Pearl. Darkrai relishes being the one having made his mood so.

The idiot should be thankful they even allowed him to come with them. That Darkrai is letting him explain the various shops is truly a sign of his good-will. Besides, Pearl would probably like him less if he started bullying the smaller Pokémon.

… He could just try giving him especially nasty nightmares tonight, and no one would know. Yes. That sounds like a great way to get away with bullying.

Now that he thinks about it, he might just give Chatot a nightmare where he gets crushed by all the money he steals in the guild’s name. That sounds great, he’ll be sure to do that.

… But unfortunately, ever since assuming his illusion, he had not been able to enter anyone’s dreams, the illusion being just too taxing on him. Nevermind, then. He will find other ways to take revenge. Maybe a prank is in order.

“… and that over there is Mrs Kangashkan’s Storage Service! It’s pretty much like the bank, but for items, yup yup! So, that’s the shops you’ll definitely have to make use of as an explorer, the others are more like, places to spend your money on for other things. Like, if you need a new bag or if you want clothing or accessories and uh, yeah. That’s pretty much the town, I guess?” 

“You guess,” Darkrai repeats Bidoof’s redundant ending, making the Pokémon shrink.

“Uh, n-no, sir! I-I mean, yes! Sir! I mean, Duskull! Golly… I mean, uh, it’s the town! That it definitely is!”

Darkrai keeps from rolling his eye. This idiocy is physically painful. “Wonderful that we have established that. Is that the end of your little… tour?”

“Uh, I mean, Chatot did say that I should help you choose an outlaw? But I… I can wait at the guild? So that you can buy something or, uh, just look around? Yup yup… Not that you have to, since you know the town already, but you know, if you want…!” With each of his words, and Darkrai’s lack of any positive reinforcement, the Pokémon seems to grow even smaller.

“I’d like to see more of the town!” Pearl forces herself into the conversation. As long as she does not tell him off for how he treats Bidoof, he will allow her to do so.

“Great! Then I’ll see you at the guild, yeah? Yeah!” With that, Bidoof turns around somewhat hurriedly, and with a cry of, “Bye Pearl! Bye Duskull, Sir!” he runs off.

Good riddance.

And now that Bidoof is gone…

“Do you wish to go to some of the shops?” Darkrai asks, doing his best to sound friendly and not icy. It is a little hard, considering he is still annoyed by having had to spend time with Bidoof.

“Oh, yes, I’d really like too!” Pearl grins and skips off in a random direction.

With an eyeroll and a call of, “Here, if you please,” Darkrai stirs her to the Kangashkan Storage – after all, it would be rather stupid if they lost some of the items they had gathered the day before. Not that they have many, but enough to make the bag on Darkrai’s shoulder possess a noticeable weight.

Once they are there, Kangashkan congratulates him on having finally brought up the ‘courage’ to join the guild. Bah, as if. Besides, why does she act like they are friends? Just because he has seen her almost every day for the last five years does not make them friends in any way. Not even friendly acquaintances. Or acquaintances.

Alright, maybe it does make them acquaintances. But not friendly acquaintances.

And even beside that point, why does everyone act as if it was Darkrai’s dream to join the guild? He bets this is Dareios’ fault.

Pearl, however, seems to hit it right of with Kangashkan, and although at first the two of them only talked about the storage system, by now, they are merely chatting. Darkrai lets his gaze wander.

Not a lot has changed during the last five years – maybe there are more flowers now (honestly, the entire town has a budding flower problem – pun half intended), but besides that? There are still the stands and shops built around the town square, and between and behind are houses, walls and wooden and lithic figures and what not. Boring, in one word.

Perhaps there are two shops more, by now, but really, all of them sell similar wares, so why should he care? There are few stands with actual use, like the bank or the storage, of course, but the rest is useless. Who needs trinkets, or accessories, or even scarfs and handkerchiefs? Not him.

Even worse are the explorers who will come through town and sell what they found in the dungeons. It is not even quite legal, he is sure; and so most of the time, they simply have to sell to the proper shops. But if one walks a little outside of the centre, they can be found now and then.

Not that Darkrai needs any of the things they are selling. He does not need anything, really.

Well. Well, he might need some medical items, he decides. The three scars on his face, though not visible through the illusion, still hurt sometimes, as well as some other wounds he must have received in whatever fight which probably took place, and ended with him being thrown through time – he has not forgotten, of course, just decided not to remember, yet – and perhaps, there is something being sold for it. Most prominently his back. That is really aching today. Probably because of Koffing and Zubat running into him ere-yesterday.

Looking at Pearl and seeing her still talking animatedly with Kangashkan, he makes his way over the little brook separating the two bigger parts of town, and towards the stall Chansey and her daughter, Blissey, share. While Chansey generally focuses more on taking care of eggs, her daughter is something like the resident healer and pharmacist.

“Duskull, nice to see you!” Chansey calls out, and Blissey gives a wave. Darkrai merely nods in acknowledgement and musters the salves and potions laid out before them.

“Looking for something? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Chansey asks, and Darkrai shakes his head.

“Nothing of the sort. However, I do have one or two old scars which sometimes act up, especially with more Dungeon exploring, and I was wondering if you might have something that could help with that.”

“Oh no, how unfortunate!” Chansey cries, and Blissey asks, “Might I see them? I do have some salves in mind – I would have to mix them, mind you – but it really depends on the type of injury that led to the scarring. And do they only hurt when exploring – which is physical exhaustion - or, for example, also when the weather gets bad?”

“I would rather not show them,” Darkrai states, ending this trail of their conversation with his tone, “But I am rather sure-, well,  I got them from claws. A slashing attack.”

He is not entirely sure, of course, but they do look and feel and awful lot like claw marks. Not that he knows a Pokémon with three claws that size, which could have attacked him. Well, he will find out in time. Besides, it really does not matter much.

Then, he explains more. “They seem to hurt only with physical exhaustion.” More like ‘if I make more miens than my usual emotionless mask’ in the case of his face, but, well, Duskull don’t really have… faces of the normal kind.

“Hmm…” Blissey hums, then nods, “Alright, I will have something for you in two days, if that is alright with you? It would cost… hm… You know, some of the ingredients are somewhat expensive, but I think we could make… 800 Poké? But if it doesn’t help, tell me, and I’ll mix up something else! It would be way easier though if you would let me take a look…”

She trails off by the end, but Darkrai resolutely shakes his head at the not-quite-spoken demand.

Then, he thinks. 800 Poké… well, it is not cheap, and he can most definitely bear through the pain. But then again, if he will be adventuring more, then the wounds on his back will hurt more, and that would be really annoying.

“800 Poké? For what?” a voice speaks up from somewhere around his legs, and as he looks down, he notices that it is… Pearl. Of course she would follow him. She is like a little Ducklett. Or, well, a Piplup.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, which, in hindsight, might not have been the smartest question.

“You just disappeared, Darcy! You think I wouldn’t look for you?” she huffs, and yes, definitely not a smart question, “But nevermind that, I found you. So, 800 Poké?”

“Simply some medicine. Do not worry, I will pay for it from my own funds.” He nods toward Blissey to tell her that he accepts the proposition, and then, after the very short introduction of Pearl, he moves the two of them away. He would rather avoid her knowing about his scars. She might get distrustful if she cannot see them but knows that he has them.

“Well, what kind of medicine?” she asks, not yet letting the topic go.

“It does not matter.”

“It does!”

“It does not.”

“It totally does—Oh, what’s this?”

They have ended up at the Kecleon Market, and as expected, Pearl’s interest immediately got caught by the things they do not need. She seems to just enjoy looking at the merchandise, luckily.

Obviously, just when they are there, two other Pokémon approach the stand – Marril and Azurill, who live just a little outside of Trash Town. Of course they have to interrupt the calm. And of course Darkrai can’t just stand at a stall, without someone else trying to… do their daily business.

Alright, so maybe they have a reason for being here and buying some apples, but that does not mean that Darkrai has to like them being here. They can just buy their apples in silence. Trash Town is too loud as it is, he could do without two children adding to the noises.

Moreover, he does not care for the reason they do it. He does not need the green Kecleon explaining it! This incessant prattle is one of the many, many reasons he hates the world as it is.

“They are brothers?” Pearl, however, swallows the bait. Why does she like chatting so much? What is there to care about?

“Yes, indeed!” the blue Kecleon continues, “Unfortunately, their poor mother has fallen sick. So those youngsters come and do the shopping for her.”

Heart-wrenching. Truly. He might just shed a tear every second now.

… Darkrai still does not care.

Still… Somehow, Marril and Azurill… the two of them feel familiar. He cannot pinpoint how, exactly, except that he has the feeling as if there was something. Did he run into them once before? He certainly saw the running through town now and then, again, but this feels… different.

Did he know… their ancestors? No, he does not remember ever having come into contact with any Marril or Azurill. Then again, seeing as they are truly useless Pokémon, he may simply have erased it from his mind if he ever met one. He does not like keeping useless knowledge.

In the end, it does not matter. They won’t have much importance in the long run, and except for that small, nagging feeling, their presence does not matter to Darkrai at all. They will be dead soon enough, and he will have forgotten them. He always does, with idiots like this.

Finally having bought their apples, they are off again, luckily.

And then, Pearl runs after them. Darkrai stares at her back in confusion. Does she really want to chat some more? Ugh. How annoying.

Some words are exchanged, and then, the brothers turn around, then, and finally leave them alone. But Pearl does not return.

Instead, she remains where she stood, and something… Something seems off. Unnatural. He cannot quite put a finger on it. Maybe the set of her shoulders? How she seems to have stiffened in whatever pose she was before?

“…Pearl?” he carefully voices. She does not react.

“Pearl,” he repeats, a little louder. A few heads turn, but then continue to go about their day. And finally, she reacts. First, she shakes herself and then turns around to look at him and the Kecleon brothers, her eyes blown wide.

“Did you-, Did you hear that?!” she almost-shouts.

“Hear what?” the blue Kecleon asks, and yes, Darkrai would like to know what they were supposed to hear, too. The town is loud, and there is always something being shouted.

“Someone… It sounded like someone was crying for-, for help!”

“I think I would have noticed a cry for help,” Darkrai answers, flatly, and definitely raises his maybe-existent eyebrows a little.

“Maybe you imagined it?” the green brother asks, and the other one adds, “Or maybe, you are just a little tired? It’s still early, after all.”

And honestly, that is the only thing Darkrai can think of, too.

Unless… Can she maybe sense emotions, as Mesprit can? But why would anyone’s emotions… be crying for help? Ignoring that possibility, there is, of course, precognition… but she is not a psychic-type, so that is out of the question. Telepathy, perhaps? But once again, who would be telepathically crying for help?

“Are you-, Are you sure? You really didn’t hear anything? None of you?” Pearl asks, still somewhat frantic, her eyes blown wide.

Did the time travel somehow… screw with her head? It is hard to imagine that it did, since it did not screw with his head… But then again, he is definitely stronger than Pearl. And unlike her, he did not forget anything, so, really, just more proof that she may have some more negative influences from the… let’s call it ‘incident’.

(Did he get some broken goods when he found Pearl? If so, he would like a refund, please!)

“Absolutely sure,” Darkrai tells Pearl. “I have got quite good hearing. Besides, if anyone had truly called for help here on the square, more than one Pokémon would have heard it. It is probably just the lack of sleep getting to you.”

That, finally, breaks her out of the starting hysterics, and with an exhale of breath, she nods.

“You’re probably right… Sorry that I worried you.”

“It’s quite alright,” Green Kecleon says, “We’ve all had something like this happen, at one point in time! No need to be ashamed.”

And thus, they finally say their goodbyes to the Kecleon brothers (or Pearl does. Darkrai simply nods in their direction in a movement that could, technically, be considered a goodbye) and continue strolling around Trash Town. Pearl is, of course, very much enjoying her first time here, just as every peasant Pokémon does.

Although Darkrai does notice a certain tightness to her shoulders. Or where her shoulders would be, if she was still a human.

It is rather peaceful, for the longest of times, and Darkrai gets progressively more glad that they decided to put their money into an account, already. Else, Pearl would most certainly have already bought two neckerchiefs-

(“You already have the one the guild gave you. Just wear that.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like red.”

“Yesterday, you had not decided on that.”

“Well, I decided today, and I don’t like red. Besides, you aren’t even wearing yours, either!”

“And I won’t start doing so anytime soon.”)

… one necklace,-

(“What do you need that for? It has no abilities, as far as I can tell.”

“It just looks pretty! Kinda like yours!”

“… And?”

“Ugh, you are impossible, Darcy.”)

… and finally, a hair ribbon.

(“You do not even have hair.”

“Well, you don’t, either!”

“Actually I-, Forget it, just tell me, what is your point?”

“What’s yours?”

He had stopped talking, then, because there is no use in arguing when the other abstains from logic.)

Maybe Darkrai was wrong in assuming that Cresselia was the only one who is great at throwing money at useless trinkets. Then again, they did not end up buying any of the things Pearl was eyeing. If Cresselia had been here…

He shudders. Nobody’s money is safe when Cresselia has a place to spend it.

Finally, Darkrai has enough, and with a few well-placed coughs and glances, Pearl finally gets the message. With a heavy sigh, she abandons the scarf she had been inspecting, and together, they start the walk back to the guild.

Which is, unfortunately, when they run into Marill and Azurill once again. This time, the brothers are together with a Drowzee. Huh. Darkrai has not seen that one here, before – but then again, Trash Town is one of the biggest settlements on the Grass Continent, so there is always a certain amount of travel coming through.

It is only once the three other Pokémon have gone on their merry way to retrieve some kind of item or something like that (he did not bother to overhear what they were talking about), that Pearl suddenly clutches her head, as if in pain.

Drowzee did just run into her, did he injure her while doing so? If he did, he is going to pay! Pearl is Darkrai’s, and Darkrai’s only, to injure!

“Are you alright?” he asks, even making sure to let worry ring through his voice – fake, of course, which no one but him has to know. But Pearl just shakes her head, while still clutching it.

… Were the nightmares he gave her tonight so bad? She is sleeping closest to him, after all, and his ability is always most effective the closer he is.

So yes, of course they were incredibly bad, he answers his own silent question. He is Darkrai, god over nightmares and darkness. He does not do mild nightmares.

“Can we-, Could we-, uh, I mean,” she stammers, “I-, I need to tell you something, can we go somewhere where there’s less people, uh, I mean, Pokémon…?” she finally asks – instead of answering his question (rude). But Darkrai decides to just be a great friend and help her out anyways.

Thus, he starts to steer her over to the Duskull bank, until they have come to a stop behind it. Dareios, of course, stares at them in obvious interest, but after noticing that Piplup is obviously unwell, he just nods in acceptance of them using the back of his bank as a retreat.

Darkrai then looks at Pearl, who, while he had his voiceless conversation with Dareios, had sat down and stopped clutching her head. He sits himself down, too, else the height difference would be just a little too distracting.

“I… I think I had a vision,” she finally says, and Darkrai stares at her in disbelieve. A vision? Of what? Even more important, she is not a psychic-type!

“A vision?” he therefore asks, “What kind of vision?”

“Uh, well, I… I saw Azurill… He got threatened by Drowzee…” Then, she tries to jump up. “We need to help him!”

… Ah. Yes. She is a hero, is she not? He had almost forgotten (he had not).

Instead of reaching out to stop her, which would involve touching, he speaks up. “Pearl, I do not intend to sound mean, but are you sure that you are not just tired?” Once again, he tries his best to sound worried. And maybe he does not have to try too hard, seeing as she might just be hallucinating. She did not hallucinate when he met her in his past, did she? He would have noticed, obviously.

“I’m NOT!” Ouch, his poor ears. That was a rather… fierce answer.

“Alright, alright, I trust you,” he hurriedly lies.

“I know you do, I trust you too… I’m sorry.” Finally, she sinks down into a proper sitting position again. Then, she puts one of her flippers against her head, and starts rubbing it in circles. It is a very human movement, and Darkrai can almost see her massaging her temple like this when she was still one.

She speaks up again after the short pause. “It’s just-, It… time might be running out, and Azurill was all alone with Drowzee and-and-and I don’t know, I can’t let anything happen to him!”

Darkrai sighs, realizing that calming her won’t be easy. “Well… If it calms you, we just saw Azurill and the Drowzee. They cannot be far from the town, yet, so whatever you think you saw cannot be happening right now. And Marill was there too, was he not?” he adds, “So Azurill cannot even be alone with Drowzee.”

Then, he stares ahead, although he does not really perceive the tents and trees around him. “Moreover, we are, unfortunately, only apprentices of the guild at this time, so we cannot go wherever we want whenever we want…” Darkrai trails off, realizing that, honestly, he does not really care about what Chatot or Wigglytuff or Bidoof think about them. He does not care at all. “Not that this would stop us,” he therefore clarifies.

“Anyways, the last thing is this – Did you see where they were? Could you identify the place at all, lead us there?” He knows that she can’t, not with her amnesia. Now he just has to make her aware of that.

Her eyes widen, and she starts nervously rubbing her flippers against each other. “I-I didn’t really… There was water, maybe? No, wait, I think there wasn’t. Maybe stones? Or… rocks? Maybe something like, uh… a mountain? Oh no… I really don’t know where they were…” With each word spoken, she seems to have become more unsure of herself.

“It is quite alright,” he calms her, standing up. “Let us simply return to the guild for now, maybe someone there knows more about visions.”

Because he definitely does not. He is a dark-type. Cresselia might know some things, but he is not about to ask her. Or even speak to her, without attacking.

Anyone else? He ponders the question as they make their way back to the guild quietly. Maybe one of the Lake Guardians, but he won’t ask them, either. Dialga and Palkia might know, too, but... Well.

Even though they have not figured out that he was (will be) behind the collapse of Temporal Tower, he would still rather not talk to them. If only to spare his poor ears from the incessant shouting.

Now that he thinks about it, are there actually any Legendaries that would not look down on him or straight up tell him to “Go away,” if he spoke to them?

…

It does not matter, at least Pearl likes him! He thinks. Except… What if she is reliving time again, too? And has already seen through his ruse and is now simply toying with him and—

No, calm down, he tells himself. He initially ended up here because he… he… because…

… Because of reasons that he does not want to go into. But he knows them. He does.

It does not matter, anyway. His stumble through time was most decidedly not planned, that, he can allow himself to know – his scars prove it, after all. So even Pearl somehow knew of the specific plan he had come up with – which he had never told anyone – she would still need to find a way to travel to the past. Dialga and Palkia would surely not help her, too intent on keeping things as they happened. Darkrai himself can create Dimensional Holes, of course, but he would never help her.

Of course, she did already travel to the past once, the methods Darkrai is not entirely sure on, but whoever helped her then would have stopped existing alongside the dark future.

And even if someone, somehow had the ability to let her travel through time, they would have needed to ensure that she landed on the beach of Treasure Town; and Pearl would need to be an even better actor than Darkrai, to make him believe that she is perfectly harmless…

Well, the gist of it is this: It is highly unlikely.

While Darkrai had been busy thinking about current events, they had already reached the inside of the guild and, standing before one of the notice boards, Bidoof had even started talking – not that Darkrai had ever planned on listening to him. By how much he scared the useless normal-type before, there would most likely be a lot of stuttering involved, anyway, and listening to others stutter gives him a headache. Or something.

He only looks up when, suddenly, the earth starts rumbling.

An earthquake? Sure, there had been more in the last few months, but… He looks to his left. The Pokémon on the other side do not seem to have any difficulty standing upright. And earthquakes do not happen in such small, isolated areas.

…Right?

They obviously do not, as Bidoof simply announces, “Oh, the data’s getting updated.” Then, he continues to explain how their resident Dugtrio is simply replacing the board’s old jobs with new ones.

Ah yes. That explains it. A simple ground-type.  Probably the Dugtrio he saw around the town sometimes. If he remembers correctly, he might have even served him at the bank once. And unless he is mistaking the Dugtrio for another Dugtrio, he might have also insulted the other.

At least that was what the Dugtrio claimed.

… He actually hopes that it was another Dugtrio.

Once the board turns around, Darkrai looks at it, again, with interest. It might be smart to keep an eye out for Pearl’s true Pokémon Partner -  it was a Grovyle, correct? To be honest, Darkrai was not incredibly invested in what was happening to Pearl and it the first time around – sure, he attacked while they travelled to the past, intending to kill the Pokémon, but that was the end of it. Once Pearl had turned into an amnesiac Pokémon, and the Grovyle been left all on his own, he considered the plan successful. Who would have thought that they just do what they had set out to, despite it?

Not Darkrai. No, he concentrated more on trying to get Temporal Tower to collapse, which is, unsurprisingly, rather difficult.

But yes, he is rather sure that the partner was a Grovyle. It definitely was not fully evolved.

Out of the sudden, Pearl roughly grabs his arm and tugs. Darkrai violently pulls his arm away again. Blast her! He can already feel every fibre of his entire being wanting to be separated from the place she touched. He lets his arm dangle by his side, careful not to let it touch more of his body. Disgusting. This is so very disgusting.

Even worse is that she obviously wants his attention, and since he is such a great friend, he needs to give it.

“Darcy, look!” she hisses and points at one of the wanted posters, not in the least .

Is it Grovyle? Has she somehow recognized him? Of course not. Instead, it is…

Drowzee.

Huh.

“We need to help Azurill! Now!”

And before Darkrai can even say another word, she is tugging him along, out of the guild, leaving a bewildered Bidoof behind.

 

And once again, they find themselves in a Mystery Dungeon. After Pearl, very panicked, left the guild, dragging an unhappy Darkrai along (he wants to cut his arm off, by now), they ran into Marill, who showed them where his brother and Drowzee had gone. Apparently, the small Pokémon had lost sight of the other two (like the idiot he is) and thus hurried back to Trash Town for help.

Where he found them, thanks to Pearl.

Thanks, Pearl. Darkrai could be doing so many more useful things with his time, but instead, he is here, trying to get Pearl to just stop rushing so much!

At least he got her to stop grabbing for his hand, if only because she started grabbing Marill instead.

Marill, who led them to Mt. Bristle, one of the local summits. Not one of the dangerous ones, thankfully, because Darkrai is annoyed enough already, and he could not be sure that he would not just let a feral Pokémon knock Pearl out. Why did he ever decide to pretend to be someone’s friend? He hates this, and moreover, he hates Pearl.

She is basically running through the Dungeon, which, obviously, makes sense, in a way. She thinks that Azurill is in serious trouble and every second counts. But he is not made for running, he is made for slowly but insistently pursuing others! Well, and sometimes running, when his life depends on it. But not when a useless kid was stupid enough to get itself kidnapped!

So what if Drowzee threatens or even attacks him? He is not going to kill him. Darkrai thinks. And even if he does, who cares?

Not Darkrai.

“Pearl, slow down!” he finally calls out, and she turns around, her eyes wide.

“I can’t! Darcy, we need to help Azurill!”

“You-, We won’t help him if we get ourselves knocked out in this Dungeon,” he spits out, maybe a little frosty. It is always harder to control himself when he becomes annoyed.

“And we won’t help him if we arrive too late!” she shoots back.

Huh. Feisty. He had imagined her to be a little more well-mannered. Then again, today has prove that she is anything but.

“I am not saying we should stop moving completely,” he throws back, not moving at all. “We should simply proceed more carefully. I won’t be able to save you every time.”

In this, Dungeon, he probably could. But he is thinking about the future, and not all Dungeons are child’s play. In fact, most are not.

“I-,” and she sighs. “You’re right. I’m just very worried.”

“Understandably so. Come, let us continue at a more sedate pace. Better to arrive late than not at all.”

Pearl nods, her vigour back in a matter of seconds.

And so, they continue – a little slower than before, at least.

 

They arrive on the peak of Mt. Bristle in good time – and probably not too late, as Azurill is still loudly crying for help. Dead Pokémon generally do not tend to do so.

“Stop right now!” Pearl shouts and rushes forward. Darkrai just holds back from rolling his eye in exasperation. So much for proceeding carefully. Moreover, maybe he should teach Pearl about surprise attacks, and how they only work if one does not make the victim aware of one’s presence, by, oh, shouting at them. Then again, she is a hero. She probably does not want to fight dirty.

In any way, he follows behind Pearl, a little more slowly.

Drowzee seems to panic at their arrival. It is understandable – if one is a total failure of an outlaw, of course they would panic. And him abducting a young child absolutely makes him one.

“H-how did you find this place?!”

“Does it matter?” Darkrai asks back, doing his best to turn on his menacing aura^TM. It does not have the same effect as when used with his true form, but he still notices Drowzee involuntarily shuddering.

(Good. Fear me, foolish second-rate-villain.)

“Are you a-an Exploration Team?! You-you came to apprehend me?!” the outlaw cries out, pointing out the obvious. Not exceedingly smart, is he?

“Exactly!” Pearl cries. She’s shuddering, too. From anger? Or the considerable coolth up here? No, it seems to be…

Oh no, does his menacing aura^TM work on her, too? Blast it! Or is she just… afraid in a normal way?

Drowzee seems to notice it too. “…Huh? Are you… trembling?” he thus asks.

“No?!” Pearl cries. It sounds much more like a question. Drowzee obviously notices and therefore does not believe her. Darkrai does not, either.

The psychic-type laughs, at that. It is a very boring laugh. Darkrai’s evil laugh is much more refined.

“I’ve figured it all out!” Drowzee then says, and just as he is about to say more, Darkrai interrupts him.

“Have you?” He will not allow the other to monologue. There is only one Pokémon here that is legally allowed to do so, and that is Darkrai.

“Because while you may think my partner is trembling from fear, she is actually trying hard not to jump and kill you right now. She is very violent, unfortunately for you.” There, that hopefully saves the situation. “And anyway, should you really care about her when you are facing a Da-, a ghost-type right now?”

That halts Drowzee. “Uhm…”

“It does not matter,” Darkrai concludes his very short monologue. There is such a thing as good listeners and bad ones, and Drowzee definitely falls into the second category. Even if he does not interrupt, Darkrai is already bored of this confrontation. “There is nothing left to say. Prepare to be defeated.”

And with that, their battle starts. Technically.

Obviously, Darkrai will be able to take the outlaw out with just a single Dark Pulse. But does he really want to do that? Would he not rather just draw it out and torment—

Suddenly, a Confusion hits him. It obviously does no damage – even with this many-layered illusion, he is still a dark-type – but… Did this Pokémon just hit him out of the blue while he was busy thinking?! Oh, it will pay!

He is just about to hit Drowzee with his Dark Pulse when a stream of Bubbles does so instead. Seems like Pearl can, sometimes, be useful. Drowzee draws back, and Darkrai uses this chance to hit it with the strongest Dark Pulse he can muster.

The Pokémon goes down immediately.

“Huh,” he mutters. Oh, he knew that it would be easy, take no more than one attack, at the most, but… it is kind of disappointing. He is still feeling somewhat murderous. All of the annoyance of the day, the unwanted touch, the fact that he had to scale a mountain…

Maybe he should prank someone, today, to let off some steam. Bidoof seems like a good target. Yes, Darkrai decides, once they are back in Trash Town, he will think of a way to prank Bidoof.

Pearl, meanwhile, has approached the still crying Azurill and is actively calming the stupid kid down. As long as he does not have to do it. He does not listen to what Pearl is saying – useless babbling, most likely – instead, he tries to figure out how to use the Explorer’s Badge they were given to call Officer Magnezone.

He may have stopped listening to the specific details when Chatot explained how to do it. Not to fret, he will figure it out. It cannot be so hard, can it?

For now, Drowzee is still lying motionless, but that can change any second. As such, Darkrai inspects the badge more closely. It… well. He will figure it out. Definitely.

… In the end, he hands the badge over to Pearl, claiming that his ‘hands’, if a Duskull’s appendages can even be called that, are giving him trouble and she should do it instead. She does so with no teasing words, while Azurill babbles something like ‘Thank you’ to Darkrai. He ignores the useless urchin.

After that, it is a fast ordeal. They make their way down the mountain (over which suspiciously dark clouds are gathering, making Darkrai rather happy to get off that high peak – it would not do to be felled by a wayward bolt of lightning), Magnezone gets called with the help of the badge (and no, Darkrai does not stare at him and his deputies in distrust, fearing that they will try to arrest him, too) and then, the officer and his henchmen take Drowzee away.

After that, Azurill and Marill reunite, Marill having waited at the mountains foot. It is a disgustingly tearful reunion, and Darkrai averts his gaze. He hates when others get so touchy-feely. And the only reward Pearl and he are given are the brother’s thanks. Great. He is sure that Kecleon will accept them if they try to buy anything. Or maybe, they can put ‘Azurill and Marill’s thanks’ into their new bank account. Surely it would garner some interest. Definitely.

Together with the two blithering brats, they return to Treasure Town. There, they finally separate, and Pearl and Darkrai continue to the guild, at which’s gate a confused Bidoof welcomes them. Darkrai brushes past him, ignoring whatever he has to say. He needs to wash himself.

However, before he can do so, the, by far the most aggravating, part about the whole capture of Drowzee happens – when Chatot gives them only a sum of 300 Poké for it. How is it allowed that the guild gets 90% of the share, again?

And they didn’t even get any items as a reward today!

Ugh. Once he has taken his revenge and created his world of darkness, he will probably open a guild himself, and it will give the Pokémon in it at least 50% of the share. Dark world or not, even he knows what fairness is supposed to look like.

 

Night time arrives quickly, what with Darkrai finally washing himself with one of the washtubs the guild possesses, Pearl spending more time with Bidoof and his friends (and Darkrai ignoring them), and dinner being once spent in the company of wild beasts. 

Once night time has arrived and they are in their room, a thunderstorm raging in the background (seems like they got off the mountain just in time), Darkrai cannot help but turn away from the window and look towards Pearl. There is a thing that has been on his mind the entire time since she practically dragged him out of the guild to rescue the brat, and since she is still awake, he decides to ask.

“Say… You saw the scene we stumbled upon with Drowzee and Azurill earlier today, did you not? Before it happened.”

“Oh! Yeah, I did!” she answers, lounging on the bed on her back and looking at him with her head hanging from it. She must be seeing him upside down. So undignified. “Everything looked a little… wonky, I guess, but it was definitely the same scene. And it was also the cry for help I heard, when we were with the Kecleon Brothers!” She nods, as if to validate her words. The movement loses some of its emphasis, what with her face being upside down.

“That means you had a vision, no, two visions of the future,” Darkrai mutters, mostly to himself but still loud enough to be heard by Pearl. He floats from left to right, and back again, before the window, thinking. Finally, he turns to Pearl again. “Did anything incite them?”

“Incite them? You mean, bring them on? Hmm….” She seems to think. “I… I think when I touched the apple I got the first one? I know it sounds silly, but that’s the only thing I can think of, and—”

“Apple? What apple?”

“The apple Azurill dropped? The one the Kecleon brothers gifted them? Which I followed them for?”s

“… Ah yes,” he finally echoes, “That apple.” He has absolutely no idea what she is talking about.

“Yeah, that apple. And then once Drowzee ran into me, I got the second one – of that, I’m like, 90% sure.”

“Huh. Then they might be induced by touch…” Darkrai wonders aloud, starting his floating pattern before the window once again. “Which is strange. You are not a psychic-type, and neither are your evolutions. So why, exactly, did you have these visions?”

Having a psychic-type here would really help. But then, they would also need to be trustworthy, and Darkrai has never met one that is.

“Uh… I don’t know?”

“Yes, I figured,” he scoffs, only to notice how frosty that came out. He is supposed to act friendly towards her, darn it, even if he does not mean it! “What I meant to say, is, it seemed obvious, since you have amnesia, I just… forgot it for a second, there. Anyways, we could try asking Dareios – he is weirdly knowledgable in certain things. And if that does not work, there is a Xatu in Trash Town, too. It is… let us put it as ‘a little unusual’, but still, it is a psychic-type, so it might know something.” With how odd the bird is, it would probably not even remember that they had spoken with it a few hours after it. Which is preferential for them.

“Trash Town?” Pearl suddenly speaks up and—

Darn it, did he say that out loud?

“Uhm… I meant Treasure Town, of course?” It sounds more like a question than an answer. Is this it? Will she like him less, now that she heard him speak badly about the town full of friendly Pokémon? Will she now realize that he is not who she thinks he is?

She snickers.

… What.

“Is that the nickname you have for it?” Her grin seems… teasing?

He groans. Well, there is no way to save it, now, is there? “Yes. It is.” His answer comes out very clipped. Then, he tries to come with a reasonable explanation. “It is just that… it is so light and loud and I just do not like that.”

There. That is even part of the truth, and since he is posing as a ghost Pokémon, it should even make sense – after all, they prefer the dark. Just like him.

She laughs, then.

He stares at the wall in annoyance. This is not supposed to be funny.

“Don’t be huffy, I’m not laughing at you!” she tries to clarify, and – as if. “I just think it’s a funny nickname! A little mean, but funny.”

At this, he truly huffs, which leads Pearl to even more giggling. She would probably not have stopped if not, through the wall, the voice of Loudred (much louder than at morning), shouts a “SHUT UP, some Pokémon want to SLEEP!”

Darkrai scoffs at the coarse language, but at least it does the trick of silencing Pearl.

… Who seems to be a lot more accepting of him than he would have believed her to be, he thinks as he finally lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and counting the miniature stalactites that could fall down and impale him while he sleeps.

A whisper. “Good night, Darcy!”

Then again, liking everyone probably comes with being a hero. But he should not believe himself to be able to show how he truly acts toward her, still.

She might be somewhat accepting of some parts, but if he continues this almost… almost honest behaviour around her, his plan will soon be ruined. He needs to be more careful. Much more careful.

“… Good night, Pearl.”

Notes:

Initially, the last chapter and this one were one very big chapter - and for that reason, I split them up. However, since posting the last chapter, I continued editing and also adding to this part of it and uh... I somehow managed to add over 3000 words to it without even meaning to. Brevity is the soul of wit, it is said, and it seems that, therefore, I do not have any wit.
With that out of the way, thank you once again for all the new kudos, comments and bookmarks! I treasure each of them so much. I have also decided that I will answer all comments at the day of a new chapter being posted - I am studying quite a lot at the moment (almost always, to be honest), and with a system like that, I am the least stressed about it.

Edit Hiatus Update: (please don’t ask me when, I didn’t write it down, like a big buffoon)
small grammar/mistake/etc changes
one part about Celebi was taken out (just Darkrai thinking about her) – since he really has no business knowing about her, at this point in time, at least with the way the story developed

Personal Note: Forgot to write that down, too. I am a wet sock.

Chapter 5: Darkrai has murderous cave-ings

Summary:

Last Chapter: Pearl was finally shown Treasure Town Darkrai, as well as Bidoof, where they met the brothers Azurill and Marill. As the day progressed, they ended up saving Azurill from a Drowzee, much to Darkrai’s chagrin, who would really much rather prefer the world to just let him be evil in peace. The day ended with them trying to figure out why Pearl saw future events happening, but coming up with no answer.
Oh and Darkrai also bullied poor Bidoof quite a lot.

Notes:

Today is, funnily enough, not the Ides of February. Those will be tomorrow.

Today is, however, the beginning of the Lunar New Year, commonly also known as the Chinese New Year. Because of this, I decided to update today as well (tomorrow will be the regular update, at least if I can finish the final edit in time. If not, I will post the chapter overmorrow, hopefully.)

Therefore, Happy New Year!

Choosing jobs is boring, Darkrai decides around his seventh day in the guild. No, let him rephrase that. Choosing jobs is funny insofar as thinking about the distraught Pokémon who make these notices is funny. Doing menial jobs is utterly and completely boring, because he actually has to help make distraught Pokémon… not distraught.

That is not how things are supposed to be, darn it!

And between the clients always acting like they are suddenly friends because he helped them, Chatot taking 90% of the profits, and everyone else in the guild being irritating imbeciles all the time, Darkrai is really starting to ask himself if this plan was ever a good idea. Did he really need to join the guild? Could he not just have stayed ‘the banker’s grouchy cousin’?

With an annoyed huff, he takes a random job from the board (well, not really random – he did skim over it) and without making sure that Pearl follows him, makes his way out of the guild.

The day is sunny – once again. It is still summer, so of course the day would be sunny. Like it always is.  At least there is a light wind blowing, making the temperature at least bearable. That they even had a thunderstorm a few days ago was honestly so very out of the ordinary, he is somewhat wondering if it had something to do with Pearl existing in this time. Maybe Dialga or Palkia telling her that they are angry?

But no, they would not merely send a thunderstorm. That is not their style. Maybe one of the Forces of Nature passing through, then.

Not that this mystery truly needs solving. It could just be strange weather, for all he cares.

“Hey, uh, Darcy? Darcy?”

He rolls his eye. And now, the annoying once-human wants his attention. Great. Just great. They are not even at the Dungeon yet! Won’t be, for another half an hour, at least. No, instead they have to walk through fields filled with flowers. Disgusting.

“What is it?” he asks, not slowing down in the slightest. His voice might be coming out a little… unfriendly, but then again, he does not care.

“Uh, I’ve just got a question. Two, actually, because I don’t know what our assignment is today.”

He takes out the job assignment and thrusts it at her face. She takes it on what seems like instinct, and then, sighs. “I can’t read that, Darcy.”

“Learn it.”

“Yeah, okay, I get it, you got up on the wrong side of the bed, but—”

“I did not—”

“But honestly, I don’t care.” Her tone of voice can only be described as a flippant. Is she… angry? And then, even more confusingly, she continues with a voice that just seems… normal. “Your mood is your own problem, I’ve still got another question.”

… He did not get up on the wrong side of the bed. He is simply annoyed with… the world, really. As he often is. It would be a much nicer place if it was drenched in eternal darkness.

Finally, he decides to, once again, grace Pearl with his attention and play the role of a friend. A slightly grouchy friend.

“Well, then ask it.”

“Great!” And now, she sounds happy. This is so confusing. “Okay, so, it’s been a few days since it happened, but I’ve been wondering why you got so angry about Bidoof calling you Darcy. I mean, I know that you get angry easily—”

“I do not—”

“But normally, I kinda understand where you are coming from. Just… not with that. So, yeah, why did you get so angry with him?”

“I do not get angry easily. Moreover, stop interrupting me or I won’t answer any of your questions.”

She mumbles something, and it almost sounds like ‘you will because you like to monologue’, but surely, he must have misheard. Pearl would not talk to him like this, after all. She is much too nice for it.

“Anyways, ignoring your completely false interpretation of my behaviour, to answer your question… It has to do with how names work, for Pokémon. But if you truly were a human before, you obviously would not know.”

“And how do they work? Since I really was a human.” Did he imagine her rolling her eyes? He must have.

Finally, he starts explaining. “Well, generally, young and unevolved Pokémon do not have names besides the one of their species. They only earn them once they evolve, or get older. Take for example Bidoof. He is still very young and unevolved, and therefore, only gets called Bidoof.”

“Oh, so that’s why Marill and Azurill also only go by… well, Marill and Azurill?”

“Exactly. However, once you have received a name, most commonly by aging or evolving, not everyone is allowed to use it. Most often, if you are on a name-to-name basis with another Pokémon, it shows that you are rather close and have given each other permission to use your name. Now, the permission part is very important – one should never assume that they just have the permission. That is incredibly rude.”

“Oooh… I think I understand! I had kinda started to wonder why no one except you asked for my name. Or told me their name. So you got angry because you hadn’t given Bidoof that permission?”

“I did not get angry,” he clarifies. As if he would ever get angry, that is beneath his dignity, “But yes. That was the reason behind my…” … anger? No, he did not get angry! “… My exasperation.”

“Sure you didn’t.” That was most definitely sarcasm. Rude. “But you said that Pokémon generally evolve to get their names?”

“I did not say that. Either they evolve, or they simply get older. But I think I can see why you ask – my cousin and I are obviously still unevolved.”

“I mean, yeah. But you’re also kinda old, aren’t you? Or at least older than Bidoof…” she trails off.

“I am not old, Pearl,” he lies without any hesitation. “Older than you, of course, but not old.”

“How old are you, then? And how old am I, while we are at it?”

“How should I know?” he asks, and unfortunately, that is also the moment a gust of wind takes its chance to whip his hair into his face. Oh, sure, he is thankful for the cooling effect it has, but not the hair which now got into his mouth. And he can’t even sputter to get it out, because that would look strange with the illusion! Ugh, he hates this.

“Well, I dunno,” Pearl answers, unaware of his troubles, “You said that you are older, so you must at least have a guess at how old I am.”

Well… He actually does not know how old she is. Younger than twenty years, definitely. Younger than fifteen? Most likely. He also thinks that she must be at least ten years, but… he cannot narrow it down much further. “Between ten and fifteen, I would wager,” he finally answers. “And since I am most decidedly older than fifteen-“

“How much older?” she interrupts, like the rude little thing she is. He sighs theatrically and moves his hands in front of his face – to her, it would seem like exasperation. For him, it is a chance to get his thrice-cursed hair out of his mouth.

“Has no one ever told you not to ask a ghost Pokémon about their age? It is incredibly impolite.” He finally answers – he just made it up, of course, but she does not need to know that.

“Well, no. A few days ago I could not even talk to Pokémon, you know?” she spits, and then adds a mumbled, “At least I think so.”

“Ah. Yes,” he awkwardly answers. “Anyways, it is impolite. Just know that I am older than you.”

“Sure you are,” she says, while picking an abandoned scarf up from the ground. How it got here, he dares not guess. “Anyways, do you think this belongs to someone? Should we take it with us and try to find its owner?”

“It does not have an owner, anymore. Well, at least if whoever lost it does not post a notice on the guild’s bulletin boards until tomorrow, then, we can keep it. Besides, you said you did not like your red neckerchief, so there you go, a yellow one for your convenience.”

“Uh, I think it’s pin—”

He interrupts. “So, back to names and your question about my cousin and me. Ghost Pokémon generally handle it a little differently. Like many things.” Which had taken him a little while to learn – but he learnt it, centuries ago, and has not forgotten it. “Since quite a few of them were actually alive in different forms before becoming ghosts, they continued carrying their names, and it became a trend among all Ghost Pokémon – including those that had just always been ghosts - to name someone from the beginning of their existence. Still, only if you have established the necessary bond for it can you call one by their name.”

“That’s really interesting! But… there are really Pokémon that-that died and then… became ghosts? Did you…”

“I did not,” he assures. “But yes, there are – although they are very few, nowadays. I have not met too many, and if I dare say, I have met a lot Pokémon during my life.” Of course he would have, considering that he has been alive for centuries. Not that he would tell her that. Then, for good measure, he adds, “And ghost Pokémon can die, make no mistake in that regard.”

“Then… what happens to them, after they die? Do they just become… ghost-ghost-types?”

Darkrai will never, not even under torture, admit to it, but at that idea, he snorts out loud. Then, he coughs, because he did not snort or anything. He would never. Not at stupid ideas that were clearly not even intended as jokes.

Pearl stares at him. “What? That was a real question!” The grin and following snicker… make him doubt it, somewhat. Not that it matters, since he did not find it funny in the first place.

“No,” he answers after stopping his fake-coughing, “They do not turn into… well, what you said. What happens after death? I would happily tell you, if I knew. As it turns out, no one knows.”

“Okay, so it’s just like… normal death, then? Like, a death where you are gone after and not a ghost?”

“Exactly. Just a normal death.” Which is, incidentally, what he also plans on granting her as his revenge.

“Well, that’s depressing,” Pearl finally says, after the silence between them grows a little too long for her, it seems. “Let’s go back to names, yeah? Like, are there any other exceptions, besides ghost Pokémon?”

A change of topic? It is not a bad idea, and so he indulges her. “Indeed there are, one of the most notable being Legendary Pokémon.”

“Legendary Pokémon?”

“Surely you know what Legendary Pokémon are. You cannot have forgotten that, too. I even told you about various Legendaries a few days ago.” Did he hit her so hard while she was traveling through time? She must have at least known Primal Dialga, and as he stated, he told her about a few before.

“Uh… Yeah, I think so? And you did? Oh, wait, you mean like Palkia and Dialga?”

As he nods, she continues, “So, from what I remember, they… are especially strong and, uh, clouded in myths?”

“A sufficient explanation. To simplify it even more, they are what amounts to gods for our world.” And yes, that obviously includes him. He is a god.

“Oooh. Yeah, I kind of knew that, but couldn’t put it into words. And the naming…”

“Yes, I was getting to that. Legendaries generally do not have a name, since most are either the only being of their species – like Palkia or Dialga for example – and therefore do not need a name to differentiate themselves from others, or only have such a miniscule population that they also do not need a name – Latios and Latias would be an example of that. I believe their current population is five or six. Eight at most, but I am rather sure that currently, there are less.”

“Okay, yeah, that sounds logical, I guess,” Pearl summarizes, eloquent as always, “So, if I ever meet a Legendary – not that I think I will – if I just call them by their species name, would they be insulted because it’s also their normal name?”

First of all – she will. She is currently meeting a Legendary. Secondly… That is not that bad of a question, really.

“Hm. It depends on the Legendary in question, of course, but generally no, they would not. The ones who are the only one of their species don’t-, they do not even know about the naming traditions of the normal Pokémon, and the others have accepted it for what it is.”

“Oh, okay. Then, one last question: You didn’t want Bidoof calling you Darcy, but you don’t have a problem with me doing so, do you?”

He does not because it is not his actual name and he is only acting as if they are friends. Still, he cannot say that. “No, I do not, because we are friends. Moreover, I asked you for your name when I first met you, and you told it, which generally means that you offer to be on a more personal basis with the other Pokémon, so I just reciprocated.”

“Oh! Okay, that makes sense. Thank you for the impromptu-lesson, and thank you for being my friend, Darcy!” She smiles at him, and he can feel himself softening his gaze in return.

But only because his plan is finally taking fruition, and he is happy about that. Nothing else.

 

Life at the guild does not become easier, at least not on an emotional level. The only good thing which happens is Pearl becoming aware that Darkrai does not want to spend the entire day by her side – as much as he may try to force himself. In the end, he just needs some time be on his own, in silence, just ignoring the world. Once she has realized that, she making… friends with the other members of the guild. Or maybe, she started earlier already, but only started spending more time with them once she noticed that he was not intent on joining her for that.

He honestly does not care – it is not like she would ever trust any of them like she trusts him.

He hopes.

Like this, days pass and turn into weeks, until finally, the first winds of the beginning autumn start to arrive, and with them, more storms. The ocean’s waves turn from small, little things to hills topped with foam and valleys of dark blue between. On some days, they become so drawn-out that they swallow most of the beach.

But even if the seasons change, the new normal which Darkrai has found himself in really does not. Most days, Pearl and he spend doing either rescues or item retrievals, and on a few occasions, they apprehend petty criminals of a low-enough rank that Chatot will allow them to do so. Some other days, they are forced to do what basically amounts to sentry-duty, and have to identify the footprints of Pokémon trying to get into the guild. Which is usually Diglett or his father’s duty, but also, apparently, the one of the lowest ranking members if either of them is unavailable.

Darkrai mostly leaves that duty to Piplup – for one, he does not shout (it is inappropriate behaviour for a Legendary – and yes, that means that Dialga and Palkia are generally behaving extremely improper), and two, he is also not interested in looking at footprints and matching them to unimportant Pokémon.

Besides, who even identifies Pokémon by their footprints? Why not just have the sentry of the day stand in front of the building? They cannot tell him that it is to learn to read footprint runes – for one, they are a writing system based on, but not depicting actual footprints, and secondly… well, it would be idiotic to try and teach someone like this. Pearl still cannot read them, after all.

But well, at least the payout… is not quite that bad. More than they sometimes get through normal exploring (courtesy of Chatot). Which means that they will still do it.

And by ‘they’, he means Pearl. Darkrai quite enjoys just lazing around and being of no help whatsoever.

 

But then, after about a month, something out of the ordinary finally happens. It starts with a morning announcement by Chatot.

“In Treeshroud Forest…” the bird starts, “Time has apparently stopped.”

That statement is, obviously, met with disbelieve from most of the guild’s members. Darkrai, of course, is not part of those. No, he was just waiting for something like this. This signals, then, that, everything is finally moving forward, meaning that his chance for revenge is drawing much closer. If he does everything right.

He does feign surprise at the announcement, though. It would be embarrassing if his plans slipped through his fingers because of a little mistake, like missing an acted emotion.

After that disgustingly attention-grabbing statement, Chatot explains further.

“Now, why has time in Treeshroud Forest stopped? Well, it’s because Treeshroud Forest’s Time Gear was… stolen!”

… How surprising. He would have never thought that something like that could ever happen. It is completely unexpected.

But obviously, Chatot’s newest statement is met with even more outrage and confusion by most of the guild’s members, lesser Pokémon that they are. Pearl turns towards him.

“Time Gear? You said they—”

“Control time in certain places, yes,” he answers, just as quietly as she asked.

“But… why would anyone steal that? Don’t they know that it makes time stop?” she prods, incomprehension clear on her face.

Darkrai shrugs. “Why would anyone ever steal important artefacts? Maybe to ruin the world as it is. Maybe they think they can get money for it. Maybe they have a grudge against Dialga. Or maybe, they want the world to stop moving, for some reason. I would not know.”

A lie, but as all of his lies are, a necessary one. Oh, any starry-eyed idealist would insist that almost none of them are necessary, but he tends to disagree. All of his lies have reasons behind them, even if those may simply be to make others distraught, or to have fun.

Which makes them even worse, in those Pokémon’s eyes.

“But do you—”

“I do not,” Darkrai interrupts, and then stares in the direction of Chatot and Wigglytuff.

Pearl, luckily, gets the hint that she won’t get him to talk any more about the topic, and so turns to another of the guild’s members. Soon enough, she is whispering with her instead. Darkrai ignores them and lets everything else that Chatot says wash over him – he does not care for the investigation started by Magnezone, or to keep out of Treeshroud Forest, or even that they should keep a watch out for any suspicious characters.

Although, yes, of course he can certainly do that. And if he finds them, he will invite them for tea and congratulate them on doing their best to unknowingly shroud the world in darkness – credit be given where credit is due, after all.

“So, everyone, do keep a look out! If someone steals one Time Gear, they might also steal others! Keep that in mind when exploring, and do not approach Treeshroud Forest for now.”

Yes, yes, Chatot already said that. Although, judging by the intelligence of most of the guild’s members, maybe repeating things is not that bad of an idea.

Feeling that the guild’s head of intelligence has come to an end, the Pokémon start to disband. But then, Chatot’s cries out loudly, “That’s not all! Everyone, stay!”

Everyone stays.

“Almost all of you may have noticed it, but let me ask you still: Who has had bad dreams during the last nights?”

Oh.

Oh no.

Now would really be the perfect time to melt into the shadows and get away from here, probably. But Darkrai already went over all the facts in his head – there is no evidence proving him to be behind any of it!

Besides, he could not even stop it if he tried. So what should he do? Just… sleep outside the guild? Thank you, but no. They deserve all the nightmares they get.

And so, he raises his hand together with all of the other recruits – after all, he has been having nightmares.

“Just as we thought. The Guildmaster and I have noticed that, for the last few weeks, seemingly everyone in the guild has been experiencing nightmares.”

This raises another bout of whispers from almost everyone now exclaiming that, ‘they thought they were the only one’. Really, do these guys not ever talk to each other? What is he thinking, of course they do. But do they never talk about things which could have actual relevance?

… Alright. Yes, he set the bar too low, he can see that now. Obviously, they would not, seeing as they are struggling just with being alive.

“We are not sure where they stem from – we are, of course, investigating the matter, but as of yet, haven’t found a reason. It might have to do with the other natural disasters we are experiencing at the moment, it might not. However, if any of you find something that might help with solving this strange phenomenon, come forward immediately.”

One of the guild’s many inhabitants, a Chimecho, speaks up. “Might it be connected to the stolen Time Gear?”

Chatot is caught by surprise. “Well… it might be. We don’t know when, exactly, it was stolen, after all…” He trails off. A few seconds pass with him quiet. Then, he flutters his wings. “We’ll investigate in that direction! However…”

Suddenly, his voice turns deadly.

“If a Pokémon is behind this, thinking that this is a funny prank, you better stop now or there will be consequences.”

… Is… Is Chatot looking at him, directly? That is… anti-favouritism! Just because he is the only ghost(dark)-type in the guild does not mean he is responsible!

He is, but that has nothing to do with his typing!

Then, Chatot sighs. “And that is all, for today. All right, everyone! Here’s to another busy day of work!”

And now, acting like he did not… insinuate all of this! Whatever good day Darkrai might have had, it is ruined now. The least he can do is just ignore Chatot for the next few hours and complete another day of annoying assignments. But then, just as he and Pearl are moving towards the ladder—

“Oh, you two, come here,” Chatot calls them over.

… Great. Just wonderful. Splendid. Darkrai could not have a better day if he got thrown through time and space!

“You’ve become quite good at your work, the Guildmaster and I are quite impressed with it!” the bird says and… he is praising them?

Well, he’s praising them, as he should, as Darkrai knew he would do!

“So, you will now finally be assigned a mission worthy of a proper exploration team. Give me your map, I’ll show you where we would like you to investigate…”

As Darkrai hands over the map, Chatot does just that. He points out a waterfall close to town – that may or may not conceal a secret, as he claims.

Ah yes. Caves hidden behind waterfalls, Darkrai has encountered quite a few of those already.

Once he is seemingly done with all his (useless) explanations, Chatot finally asks, “Do you understand all that?” Darkrai and Pearl nod in unisono. Darkrai actually stopped paying attention at some point, but he is really not ever in the mood to listen to the bird more than necessary.

“Good!” is the happy answer, followed by a dismissal, “Then I’ll leave you to thoroughly investigate it! Off you go now!”

But before they have gone more than two steps toward the ladder (again), the bird once again calls them back. “Wait, you two!” he cries. Pearl and Darkrai turn around. Chatot makes a beckoning motion, and so, they take the two steps back to his side.

“There is… something else.” This time, Chatot sounds not as happy as before, and Darkrai can feel his annoyance rising to its zenith. They have been here for almost an hour now, discussing first the stolen Time Gear, then the nightmares, and now the assignment. So what more is there to be spoken about? Just let him go to this stupid waterfall!

“Know that I am not asking you this because I distrust you, Duskull, but simply because you are the only one here that has the ability to learn the attack Nightmare. Have you been behind the constant bad dreams everyone has experiencing?”

… Ah. It is about that. What else, really.

And here Darkrai had given Chatot the benefit of doubt. Had allowed himself to think that the bird would not act on stupid beliefs pertaining to certain Pokémon types. But as always, he was wrong. He really should stop assuming that Pokémon who are generally ‘nice’ will also be nice to him.

So, best to answer with all of his annoyance. Which is not hard at all.

But before Darkrai can even huff in exasperation and explain that, no, he is not behind any of that, Pearl has jumped to his defence.

“Darcy would never do that!” she exclaims, and then goes on, “Besides, he’s been having nightmares, too!”

Chatot stares at the two of them intently. Darkrai feels as if now is his turn to talk.

“Please do not forget that I have been living in Treasure Town for the last few years already, Chatot. Why should I suddenly start tormenting everyone here?” he explains. After a short pause, he adds, “Moreover, I do not even know the move Nightmare.”

Not a lie, actually. Why should he know Nightmare if his ability does the same, and does it more effectively at that?

The stare of the bird intensifies a little and then – the Pokémon breaths out in… relief…?

“That’s good to hear. I’m happy that you are not the one behind it. Really, Duskull, it is not your type or anything that made me ask that, but rather your… let’s call it infamy in Treasure Town. Your cousin and you do not have the best of history when it comes to pranks.”

Pah. As if. This was just the usual prejudice that Darkrai has to deal with, masked as simple concern.

He ignores the curious glance Pearl sends his way as Chatot mentioned the pranks.

“Anyways… it is really good to hear,” Chatot breathes, and suddenly, his demeanour changes, “Now go! What are you still standing here for? You got a new mission!” He flutters with his wings, and what was that quick change in character? Does he honestly belief Darkrai?

What an idiot!

(Darkrai does not feel bad about giving everyone around him nightmares after seeing their trust in him. He really does not. It is their own fault for being so trusting.)

 

The travel to the waterfall takes no longer than three quarters of an hour (filled with useless conversation), and once they arrive there, Pearl and Darkrai stare at it, not sure how to proceed. Well, Pearl does, anyways – Darkrai is sure that there must be a cave hidden behind it, but he is just not sure enough to jump through it on simple instinct. If there is a wall, he might get stuck in it for the foreseeable future, which is not his preferred state of being.

“Huh, this seems to be a really intense… curtain of water,” Pearl speaks up, and Darkrai just barely keeps himself from snorting. That is certainly a creative way to describe a waterfall. “Any ideas how to get through?” Her voice is nearly inaudible over the rushing water.

Darkrai shakes his head – or well, his whole body. Duskull are funny in their anatomy like that. “I would rather not simply jump. If we end up beneath the falling water… Well.”

He does not elaborate further, his words implying enough as they are.

Not heeding his words, Pearl makes her way over to the waterfall to carefully touch it, only to be thrown back by its strength.

Darkrai snickers. Well, those that do not listen…

Suddenly, Pearl clutches her head in what seems to be pain. Did she hurt herself?

(Do not die to this simple waterfall, hero! Not until Darkrai got his chance to take revenge!)

Then, she visibly shakes herself, turns around and runs toward him, a smile on her face.

“A vision! I had another vision!” she shouts.

“You had? What did you see?”

Ah yes – the visions. They did not come closer to solving this mystery in the past weeks: Dareios did not know anything useful, and Xatu was not there the two or three times they looked for it.  Not that Darkrai ever truly spoke to the bird, he just overheard it speaking to others, so he is not sure how trustworthy it truly is. Maybe it was for the best that they did not meet it.

“I saw a… a figure. It leapt through the waterfall. And behind, there’s a hidden cave – at least that’s what I saw.”

Darkrai hums out loud and crosses his arms. Then, he starts floating from left to right. “Last time, your vision did show us the future, of course – but what if it is just a fluke, this time, and there is simply a solid cliff wall behind the water? Besides, who was that person you saw? Could you tell?” He does not give her the chance to answer, too caught up in his thoughts. “Are they, perhaps, waiting behind the waterfall, to attack us? Assuming there is even a cave. Maybe your visions do not always show the truth? You have only had two, so far. You could hurt yourself – this habit of yours of simply running in the direction of danger without any thoughts is getting a little out of hand, to be honest. Let us rather—”

He finally looks towards Pearl, only to notice that she is narrowing her eyes, like she is planning something very, very stupid. Before he even has a chance to stop her, she has turned around, dashed towards the waterfall and—

—jumped.

What in the Distortion World’s sake?! Does she want to die so much? Because if so, she should just tell him and let him do the job!

He walks a few steps to the end of the cliff and stares down. No. No, there really is no Piplup-sized corpse down there. Which means that there is definitely a cave behind the water.

Ugh. He really does not want to jump through a waterfall. But after this display of sheer recklessness by the Piplup, he really does not have much of a choice, really – he cannot just let her continue on her own and die. That would just ruin his entire revenge. And he also cannot continue standing here, all on his own, when there is very obviously not a wall behind the waterfall. Groaning out loud since no one can hear it, he takes some steps back, covers his face with his arms, takes a deep breath and then runs forward.

And jumps.

He lands safely (and wet) on the other side, where there is, indeed, a hidden cave. A very damp cave, unsurprisingly. It does have some interesting rounded, cylindric stalagmites, as well as two shallow lakes to each side of a path – or, more accurately, they should be described as puddles, really – but besides that, it is uninteresting. And somewhat cold.

Pearl is already standing there, of course, and staring at him. Grinning. Slowly, she raises a mocking eyebrow.

“Well, that solid wall certainly hurt, didn’t it?”

Darkrai huffs. “I said it could hurt you. I, for one, do not care for solid walls, as I am a ghost.” He is not, but he can still walk through walls. Sure, he does not do it too often, because it makes him incredibly hungry, but still, he can do it. Then, for good measure, he adds, “However, I do care if I get wet – not everyone is a water-type, you know?”

Ignoring his second point, Pearl asks, “Wait, can ghosts actually walk through walls? I thought that’s just… made up, or fairy tales, or something!”

Instead of a verbal answer, Darkrai simply steps through a few of the stalagmites. Then, he floats out again. Pearl seems speechless.

“Why-, Why didn’t you tell me earlier?! And don’t you dare say, ‘You didn’t ask’!”

The words he was about to say die on the tip of his tongue. He clears his throat.

“Well. It just never came up,” he finally decides. Then, he clears his throat again, turning towards the rest of the cave. “Anyways… Let us simply explore the cave a little bit, now that we are already here.”

And that, they do.

 

The cave, of course, hosts a Mystery Dungeon, which they get through without much trouble. Oh, sure, Pearl does not have a type advantage over other Pokémon, but she also does not have a disadvantage, and in his eye, that is what truly counts. Besides, over the last few days, she has proven herself quite crafty when it comes to fighting.  She is not always the strongest, in the fights they find themselves in, but she has a good eye for strategy; and that is much more important, anyways.

In any way, they make it to the last floor of the Dungeon quickly enough. There, they do not find themselves eye to eye with a disgruntled Pokémon which took the Dungeon as its residence, as happens quite often, but rather—

“Wow, this looks absolutely amazing!” Pearl exclaims, and Darkrai, for once, is inclined to agree.

This last spacious room of the cave is filled with gems of different kinds. Water on the left and right of the entry create a path, leading to some of the biggest gems, and the path itself is also filled with them. It almost seems as if every possible size and colour a gemstone could have, is presented here, growing either out of the ground or out of the walls.

“It does,” he answers after a little while. Once again, he looks around the cavern.

Most gems even seem to exude some light. Darkrai humours the thought of taking some with him, to use as light sources, but he has no problems seeing in the dark, so he forgets about it again.

… However, another thought strikes him. “…If we took some of them with us, do you think we would be able to keep them for ourselves? Sell them, perhaps? We did find them in a Dungeon, after all.”

Since the money-taking-scheme (the robbery) perpetrated by guild is still a thorn in both of their sides, they have started looking for other ways of gaining money – collecting items in Dungeons and later selling them is one of them. Running little errands for the citizens of Treasure Town is another, which mostly Pearl partakes in.

… Only Pearl partakes in, if it is anyone but Dareios. Darkrai has favourites, and no shame in showing who they are.

“I mean… If they didn’t see us having them, they definitely couldn’t take them away, right?” Pearl’s answer is as much question as statement, her eyes never straying from the biggest gem in the cavern. It seems to be of a somewhat light pinkish colour, but what is much more important is that it is bigger than her, and almost as big as Darkrai, which really… he has not seen a gem that big in a very long time.

Moreover, Pearl agreeing so readily does please him, he will admit. It seems that his influence has made her much more of a shrewd explorer than when she started! He is almost proud.

“They cannot take what they do not know we have, indeed.”

They grin to each other – or do as much of an equivalent as their species of Pokémon allows them too.

Then, they start looking for gems loose enough that they will be able to pick them up…

But disappointingly, none of them are. Each and everyone Darkrai tries to lift seems to be firmly fused with the ground. That is… bothersome. Still, he does not give up, and neither does Pearl.

… But after trying and failing again, and again, and again, both of them seem to simultaneously give up. Without any words being spoken, they meet in the middle of the cavern.

“This sucks,” Pearl says, and sits down on the ground, her frustration clear.

“Language,” Darkrai cautions, even though the word she used is one he can… overlook. Best to make her aware, in any way. “But yes, it does,” he finally agrees. He stares down at her tiny, sitting form, but decides not to join her on the ground. It is wet, and uneven, and really just not the ideal sitting space.

Pearl groans. “There we are, finally finding a way to get, like, more money than just what barely covers the cost of re-filling our bag every day, and then… then this stuff happens!” She moves her flippers to point at the cavern, indicating what she means. Then, with a loud huff, she lets herself fall against the ground.

That must hurt, Darkrai thinks. But she does not indicate that it did – probably too much pride, or Piplup just have enough feathers to not feel it – and so, Darkrai does not ask her if she is alright.

Silence grows, until suddenly, Pearl sits up again, her eyes wide. “Say…” she starts, “You think that, like… The big gem, like, it’s the least connected to the ground. If we managed to make it fall, would it maybe… shatter into smaller ones?”

Oh.

Darkrai looks at the gem she indicated. It is the light pink one he noticed previously, the biggest one so close to the ground.

Oh, he really has to consciously stop himself from liking her. Thinking of theft first, and now property destruction (if it belongs to anyone, which he hopes it does not)? She would make a great outlaw, and most likely, an even greater underling. Maybe he should ask if she wants to join him. That could count as a revenge, right? Making the hero into his loyal subordinate?

But then again, she has proven herself much too heroic so far. She actually enjoys helping others! So she would probably not want to spread darkness over the entire world. And being denied her assistance…

To spare himself that shame, best to not even try.

“I think that… it might,” he carefully enunciates. That seems to be the only thing Pearl needed to hear, as she jumps up and hurries over to the gem. Darkrai follows.

And then they, well, try testing Pearl’s theory.

But no matter how much they pull, how much they lean into trying to drag it free, nothing happens.

And then, Pearl suddenly stiffens. At first, Darkrai is confused, but he quickly realizes that it might be another vision. …Right? Or is she just… getting sick?

“Pearl?” he asks, but she just shakes her head. Clutching it with one flipper, she leans against the gem which… moves with the inadvertent pushing movement.

And then, there is a loud ‘click’, resounding through the cave.

The even louder rumbling which follows it is even worse.

Darkrai allows himself a moment to share a panicked look with Pearl, who manages to sputter out a “Oh no, that means that—” but by then, it is already too late. A gigantic wave is coming straight at them, and although Darkrai certainly tries to turn around and get out of its way, there isn’t even a place that would be safe.

The water swallows him, and then, Darkrai is very much preoccupied with keeping his head above water. There is no chance to find a way out, or to even comprehend what is happening. Maybe Pearl’s doing better, he thinks at one point, she should know how to swim. He hopes.

Soon after, though, all thoughts about her are forgotten, as the water’s pressure seems to increase tenfold. He becomes submerged, but before he can even properly panic about that, he feels himself being thrown in the air, spat out by a gigantic fountain. Seconds pass, feeling like hours and a single blink of an eye, in which he is weightless, in which he can see the ground many, many metres beneath him and then—

Then he starts falling.

And sure, yes, he can float – but that isn’t the same as flying! He plumets, and a scream leaves his throat—

As his body hits something, he blacks out.

 

“So, let me see if I got this right – behind the waterfall is a hidden cave, but at its end, there is just nothing?” Chatot asks them once again, making sure he got the story straight.

“Well,” Darkrai clarifies, “Nothing truly important. Except for a hidden switch, it seems.”

“And a few gems, but they are kinda fused with the ground? And a really big one, but that’s the one where the switch was, so… Yeah, really nothing important,” Pearl adds – if it is helpful or not, Darkrai has as of yet not decided.

“And, once you activated the switch, a giant wave swept you out of the cave, the whole way to the Hot Spring?”

“Technically speaking,” Darkrai objects, “It only carried us to the top of the mountain, where we were then thrown through the air, all the way to the Hot Spring.”

“Ah yes, yes, of course, that makes more sense!” The bird flutters his wings.

… It does not. Darkrai does not point it out.

“So… did we screw up…?” Pearl finally asks, not quite looking away from her feet. Did this thought weigh on her, their whole way back? Sure, she had seemed a little downtrodden after they woke up in the Hot Spring, but Darkrai had ignored it, deciding that whatever problems she had, she could face them on her own. If he had known it was something so inconsequential, he would just have told her to stop worrying about it hours ago! Ugh. Children.

“No, no no! Emphatically, no!” Chatot hurriedly assures her, “This is a major discovery! No one knew that there was a cave behind the waterfall! And that it seems to lead to the hot spring in a unique way, once a switch is clicked, it’s amazing!” He laughs.

Neither Darkrai nor Pearl join in.

Eventually, it is Pearl who speaks up again.

“Are you sure that no one has been there before?” She looks at Chatot, then Darkrai, and finally at the ground again. “Because, uh, I’m pretty sure that… Guildmaster Wigglytuff may have been there, before…?”

Darkrai looks at her. Wigglytuff? It is not that he doubts her, per se, but… how would Pearl know that?

“No, no, no!” Chatot cries out, each word faster than the other. Too fast. “That’s inconceivable! If that were so, the Guildmaster wouldn’t have ordered you to investigate the place, right?” The answer – desperate, hurried, on the brink of panic – tells Darkrai everything he needs to know. The bird is either lying and not very good at it… or he is suspecting that it is truth, but does not want to accept it. Perhaps, he just trust Wigglytuff way too much. Well, that he definitely does.

“Are you sure?” Pearl asks, “I’m… Well, I’m very, very sure that he was there, before.”

“No! Absolutely not! If he was ever there, why would he want me to send you there? Yes, so he can’t have been there!” Chatot sputters.

“We understand,” Darkrai claims, “The Guildmaster definitely was never there, correct?”

“Yes, yes, absolutely correct, Duskull!”

“And he also never explored the hidden cave behind the waterfall.”

“Exactly, he did not!”

“And he also pressed the switch and landed at the Hot Spring.”

“Yes, he did—, I mean, no, no, no! Emphatically, no! He did not press the switch, because he was never in that cave!”

Darkrai looks at Chatot and then scoffs. “Alright. You have persuaded us.”

“I have? I mean, good that I have!” He flutters his wings, and then, seems to ponder something. “…Still, I will ask the Guilmaster, if you would just wait here!”

The next second, the bird has flown over to the Guildmaster’s office and closed the door behind him with a loud bang.

Darkrai looks at Pearl. She looks at himS.

“It’s,…” she starts, then sighs. “I mean, maybe the vision could’ve been of the future? But… Oh, wait! I didn’t tell you before!  So, when I touched the gem, I had another vision, and I saw the person click the switch and get swept away. It just came a little too late for us to react…” She laughs, a nervous sound. “But I’m… pretty sure that who I saw both times was Wigglytuff. And I mean, it could be another Wigglytuff, right? But I don’t know, that doesn’t make too much sense, does it? What I’m trying to get at, is that… I think I saw the past, and in the past, Wigglytuff also entered the cave.”

Darkrai stares at her. That… It must not necessarily be, of course. And there is nothing proving that she saw the past – yet. He tries to listen carefully in to what is going on in Wigglytuff’s room. He can hear someone singing… which is really not very surprising, since Wigglytuff is in there.

“It depends,” Darkrai finally answers, “As of yet, we do not know enough about your visions. It is certainly a possibility, but you have not experienced enough to truly ascertain either answer.” He lets himself ponder about this mystery some more. Then, he continues, “But I think it possible that Wigglytuff could have been there before. You would not know, of course, but he truly is one of the most renown explorers. He has discovered many things during the last few years. Apprehended many criminals, too.”

Darkrai is not afraid of Wigglytuff, of course. However, if it came to a serious fight between them, he would… well, he would most likely want to flee. Wigglytuff is a normal-type, meaning that Darkrai’s Ominous Wind would not hurt him, and although he could always put him to sleep with Dark Void, his previous ‘morning speeches’ seem to indicate that he might have certain abilities to… well, circumvent that. That would only leave Dark Pulse as an offensive attack, and Darkrai hates having to do all of his fighting with a single attack. Moreover, Wigglytuff has been rumoured to be an incredibly strong fighter – if he gets serious.

So no, Darkrai is not afraid. He simply knows his own limits.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense… Hey, that may be a stupid and unrelated question, Darcy, but…”

“But?” he probes.

“But why do you always talk so stilted? Like, no one else does it.”

… What. What is this senseless accusation?!

“I do not talk stilted!” he forces out, because he does not! He talks in a proper and dignified manner. That is different!

“You do, you absolutely do!” the Piplup objects, a grin growing on her face, “Like, just now – you could’ve used ‘don’t’, but instead you said, ‘do not’! And you always do that, and use words that no one else has ever heard before!”

And sure, Darkrai knows that she is accusing him in a ‘good natured’ way, with her smile that big, but… How dare she!

“I do not,” he repeats, emphasizing the words even more (and darn it, now he is thinking how he could have also said ‘don’t’), “It is not my fault that everyone else chooses to speak like absolute brutes.”

“No one speaks like brutes!” she says, interrupting herself with a giggle (a giggle? at his expenses?!), “You just talk like a grandpa!”

“I do not talk like—“

The opening door of the office stops their argument short.

Pulling himself together in a matter of seconds – next to him, Pearl snorts – he looks at Chatot and, in a proper and dignified manner, asks, “Well, what did Wigglytuff say?”

Chatot sighs. “He mulled it over for a bit, then he said,” and suddenly, the bird is singing, “Oh memories! Sweet memories! YOOM… TAH!” He shakes himself, as if to having to stop himself from acting just like the Wigglytuff. “Then he danced around a bit.”

“Well, that sounds like the Guildmaster,” Pearl smiles, and then puts her head to the side in what must be a questioning manner, “But… besides that, did he say nothing?”

Chatot sighs again. “He did. He said that, after thinking hard, he may have gone there once before. So, to sum it up, it’s just as Pearl suspected… He has indeed already been to the Waterfall Cave.”

“… That’s a little disappointing,” Pearl sighs, no longer grinning. Darkrai… slightly agrees. Oh, he did not believe they had made the find of the century, but if no one else knew about the countless gems… that would have been nice. He might have found a way to detach them in the future, after all.

“It’s too bad for you,” Chatot agrees, “But still, you did well, for your first proper exploration! And tomorrow, I shall once again expect your best efforts.” He flutters. “And now off you two go, relax a little from your exploration before dinner is finished! Goodbye, see you later!”

 

“Hey, Darcy?” It’s night time, and that obviously means that Pearl has to ask him serious questions. It has become something of a ritual – come night, come serious talk. She is lying on her bed already, this time on her stomach, and for once, he has already laid down, too. As much as he has become accustomed to being awake at day – deep down, it still feels wrong. As soon as the sun disappears, he can feel himself become truly awake.

He would even wager that sometimes, his bad mood actually has a lot to do with being awake during the day. Then again, that would imply that he does not have complete control over his emotions, and that is, obviously, wrong.

Which is why he wants a world of darkness. And for that, he needs to properly befriend Pearl, and for that, he needs to listen to whatever she is saying.

“Yes?”

“Do you think the Guildmaster just wanted us to feel good? And that’s why he sent us to the Waterfall, knowing we’d find something cool there?”

“Hm. I cannot say that I understand the Guildmaster.” He only understands that, as eccentric as he might present himself to be, he is quite the strong Pokémon in reality. “Maybe he wanted to find out if we are worth something, by giving us something to investigate that he knew hid something? And if we did not find it, he would know that we failed?”

“I mean… Do you really think he’s that… sly? I don’t know, it just sounds kind of mean, to do a hidden exam like this?”

“I really do not know, Pearl. Wigglytuff has a certain… reputation.”

“That being?” she prompts.

Ugh. He does not want to be forced to say anything positive about the pink menace, but… “He is known as a very strong, but friendly Pokémon. So he might have simply wanted us to feel some kind of satisfaction, by giving us an assignment that he knew would lead us to find something.” Darkrai stares at a wayward strand of his hair, and the hay caught in it. Maybe he should invest in a blanket, to act as a barrier between the hay and his hair.

“Yeah, that… kinda sounds like him, I guess.” Pearl stretches her arms, and then lets them fall down again. “But how would he even know to search at the waterfall for some kind of starter task? Chatot didn’t seem to know anything about the hidden cave, and he’s the head of intelligence of the guild.”

Darkrai snorts. “Being head of something and being good at it are two very different things.”

“Darcy!”

“What? But, well, since there was a switch hidden behind the gem,” Darkrai expertly changes the topic, “The cave had obviously been used by someone, at one point in time. Maybe an outlaw inhabited it, and it was an old safety measure to hide an even more valuable treasure. Maybe it was a way to get to the Hot Springs and have ‘fun’ on the way. While I did not enjoy it, I am sure that more stupi-, adventurous Pokémon could have another opinion.”

She sighs and changes her position, so she lies on her side, staring right at him. “It makes sense, I guess. But you don’t think that the Guildmaster is… he’s not hiding that he’s evil, in reality, right?” Where is she even coming from, with this? “Not like Drowzee?”

Ah. Yes. Of course.

Unfortunately, this question hits much too close to home, for Darkrai. If she is so ready to distrust Wigglytuff, who is to say that the same can not easily become true for Darkrai? Moreover, it hints at a deeper issue.

Darkrai finally looks away from the strand of hair and instead turns directly towards Pearl. “Has that doubt been simmering within you for the last few weeks? That others could be hiding who they are?”

“I…” She takes a deep breath, and then sighs heavily. “Yeah, pretty much. I mean, I don’t have my memories, and I only know that I was once a human and… I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little afraid that someone might just… that because of this, I’m maybe easily influenced? That someone might make me trust them, like Drowzee kinda did, and that it would… I don’t know, end badly.”

Tarnation. Does she… Has she noticed that something is awry? Is she mistrusting him?

Pearl continues. “Like, I never planned on joining the guild, but you asked me to do it, and so I did. And that’s not meant as an insult, and I don’t think you exploited me! I really don’t think that!”

Darkrai’s mind feels empty. So is this the end? He honestly cannot think of an answer or a defence. So she has already seen through him? He… no. This cannot be. He must be panicking.

(His rapidly beating heart tells him that he is, indeed, panicking. Taking a deep breath does not help.)

“But I’m just afraid that… some of the Pokémon I met… will meet, too, might not have as good intentions as they act like. I just feel, like, at the moment…”

Should he run away now? Might be best, he cannot risk fighting against the whole guild. He might win against most of them, but Pearl has gotten much stronger in the last weeks, and Wigglytuff…

“You’re my only friend that I can really trust.”

Darkrai’s thoughts stop.

What.

“It’s not that I think the other people, uh, Pokémon are evil! But… I just don’t trust them like I trust you. What I really want to say is… thank you for helping me and standing by me and just being my friend.”

What?

That’s… That’s…

What.

Darkrai takes a deep breath and then violently shakes his head. He needs to get a grip on himself! So what if no one has ever actually seen him as their best friend? It is not as if he ever wanted to be anyone’s friend! He is the master of nightmares, and soon, a world suffocating in darkness, he does not need friends!

Besides, this is what he wants. This is what he needs, if he wants to succeed. It might be… earlier than he expected it to happen, but that just means that he has laid down excellent groundwork for the future. He…

There is a warm feeling in his chest – is he coming down with something?

“Darcy? Is… everything alright?”

What should he answer? What is the correct answer to a statement such as this? He wracks his brain, but comes up empty.

“Yes. Yes, of course, everything is all right. All left, even. Well, if there was anything left, or right. You know what I mean. Or did you mean alright? Because that it is also. Uhm… I’m… your friend?”

Pearl laughs, and he wants to be angry, he really wants to, but it just sounds so happy and not at all mocking.

“Yes, you’re my best friend!”

His heartbeat is not slowing down – in fact, it is doing quite the opposite. He really must be getting sick. He starts staring at his hair again, and then, he starts counting the individual hairs. He is somewhere around 234 when his heart has slowed down at least enough to look at Pearl. She seems…

He does not interpret her emotion. Perhaps he took too long to answer. Forcing down whatever emotions he might feel about it, he forces a smile on his face and says, “You are mine, too.”

The moment the words leave his throat, his emotions try to force themselves out, again, but he forces them down brutally. It is bad enough that his heart seems to be beating in his throat, that his chest feels too tight to properly breath. He does not need emotions on top of that.

Finally, Pearl shows an emotion he can interpret – or perhaps time just slowed down until now. In any way, she smiles and says, “That makes me really, really happy, Darcy.”

“Me too?” he answers, and tries to ignore that it sounds like a question. Pearl’s smile widens, and then, she closes her eyes.

“Goodnight, Darcy. I’m happy I could… tell you all of this.”

 

His nightmares are spent imagining ways how this moment could have gone differently – Pearl telling him that she has seen through him, that she has remembered her past and knows who he is, that she would never even consider thinking of him as a friend—

Every time that he shoots awake as the dreams reach their worst part, he wonders, why, exactly, he would consider this scenario bad enough to dream of it. It must be because it would mean his plans are ruined, he decides in the end.

Nothing more.

Notes:

obviously erase them. This time was no different, however, there is one 'joke' I really miss, and therefore, I will share it with all of you:
Darkrai: "To simplify it even more, Legendaries are what amounts to gods for our world.” And yes, that obviously includes him. He is a god.
Hulk in the distance: "Puny God"
Maybe my humour is just really bad, but it cracks me up every time.
Oh, and on the topic of Wigglytuff's type: While writing this chapter, I honestly forgot that fairy-type is a thing that exists (even though I have played all mainline Pokémon Games and even have some favourite Pokémon among fairy-types). In the end, I decided to leave that passage as it is, because trying to write around it was just too much of a bother. In the future chapters, however, it is acknowledged that Wigglytuff nowadays has a dual typing.
The most important thing comes last: Thank you everyone, so much, for all the love you give to this story! I am so incredibly thankful for every kudo, comment, bookmark I get, I cannot mention it enough. Whenever I am feeling sad for whatever reason, I look at the story (like the little narcist I am) and all the love it received and my day gets better instantly. So, thank you so much, it means the world to me.

Edit Hiatus Notes (aaand forgot to write the date, again):
Some changes, and also some more elaboration for some scenes. Nothing world-changing, but this chapter might be something those who like rereading could read again.

Personal Note: even though I like this chapter, it took me incredibly long to edit?? Weird, I tell you.

Chapter 6: Three rotten apples

Summary:

Last Chapter: Darkrai and Pearl were sent out on their first proper exploration, to investigate a waterfall. Behind it, they found a hidden cave, a Mystery Dungeon, and also a rather… adventurous method of travel to some Hot Springs. However, after reporting their discovery, it turned out that Guildmaster Wigglytuff already knew about these things. This somewhat lessened Pearl's excitement for their find. At night, Pearl admitted to Darkrai that she sees him as her best friend and trusts him above all others, which lead Darkrai to short-circuit (which he will deny, if ever asked about).

Notes:

Alternate chapter title: Darkrai contemplates murder, and not in a fun way.

“It sounds great, right?” Pearl asks him, metaphorical stars in her eyes and all that jazz.

Which is great for her, but it raises the question: What sounds great? Darkrai may have spaced out – just a little – during Chatot’s morning speech, as is tradition, by now. Fortunately, after wracking his brain for a while, he finally finds what Pearl might be referring to, almost entirely buried beneath other thoughts.

“The expedition?” he tries, making Pearl roll her eyes. So undignified.

“No, the way that Chimecho jingles-, Yes, of course the expedition!”

“Do not be so sassy,” he chastises her, “I did not sleep well. I am tired. Would you really beat someone who is already at their lowest? How truly cruel of you.”

Pearl rolls her eyes. “Sure. Because you’re so weak, Mr. Grandpa.”

“Mr. Grandpa-, What does that even mean?”

“It means that you speak and behave like a Grandpa, of course!” she laughs, and Darkrai can only sigh at her antics. How old is she? A child?

… Well, most likely, yes.

Not that he feels bad because of this, of course. When he attacked her, he did what he had to do. He could have also plunged her into a world of nightmares, but decided to simply attack her partner instead. It was not his fault that she intercepted his attack.

It still happened, of course, but… He has a second chance, now. This time, he will ensure that she can no longer get in his way, properly.

“Anyways, do you think we’ll get chosen for the expedition?” Ah yes, that was their topic, was it not?

“I would hope not,” slips out before he can stop himself. Trying to keep the damage small, he continues, “I mean, with us being the newest members of the guild, I am not sure we would do… as good as would be expected.”

“Guess you’re right… But then again, we can always rise to the challenge!”

“Sure,” Darkrai answers without inflection, making his way up toward the job boards.

All about this expedition is just so very… uninteresting. He does not care for spending more time than necessary with the rest of the guild, and this expedition just reeks of that happening. But since only some Pokémon will be chosen… maybe he can tip the scales in favour of others joining, and not him.

Once he steps into the upper room, he has to make a double take at the figures standing before the job board. But no, it is truly Koffing and Zubat, there is no mistake that it is the two of them standing there. Or… floating. Flying?

What, exactly, are they doing here? He already fears that they might be here to cause more trouble for him. Still, that raises more questions. Why are they before the board? And maybe, most importantly, who let them into the guild in the first place?

“What are they doing here?” Pearl whispers to him, the words almost the same as the ones he was thinking just now. And even though she is careful to keep her voice low, it must still have been too loud, as the two annoyances turn toward them, twin nasty expressions on their faces.

“I’ll have you know,” Koffing immediately brags, “That we’re an exploration team, too.”

Ugh, how far have the standards fallen? Darkrai really has to wonder. Where has the class of their profession gone? Disappeared, it seems, never to be retrieved again. Never mind that he had not cared about the standards or class of explorers a few weeks ago.

He really should just have killed the two of them in the Beach Cave when he had the chance. And because he did not, he now has to deal with these idiots.

“But how surprising,” the annoying ball of gas continues, “That you two would also be here!”

“I wouldn’t have believed that they let weaklings like you form an exploration team, and least of all, join the guild!” Zubat finishes the supposed insult they were obviously going for.

“I do not want to offend you, of course,” Koffing continues where Zubat left off, as if they practiced it (Darkrai is sure they did), “But there’s such a thing as talent, and the two of you are rather lacking in it. Like this, you will never make it big.”

And sure, he could try to just ignore the two Pokémon’s annoying insults. They are not even good insults, to begin with. But unfortunately for the two imbeciles, Darkrai has really tried to reign himself in for the last few weeks – he tried never to be too cynic, never to be too mean, never to threaten everyone who displeases him with dismemberment, torture and/or death…

These two, though? Can honestly go rot on a body dump, and he will be the one sending them there.

“I’m sorry, but do I recall it wrong,” he starts, “When I recall that I knocked the two of you out with a single attack? Help me here, Pearl, this is what happened, correct?”

Pearl, immediately catching on to his annoyance – and sharing it, too, if he is reading her correctly – responds with an equally mocking voice.

“Oh, I dare say that you are right, Darcy. I cannot seem to remember them even getting one attack in.” For the first time since finding her on the beach, she appears truly angry. Maybe even the tiniest bit murderous.

He cannot like her, he reminds himself, but really, it is becoming hard with her being everything he would look for in a loyal underling. Seeing her out for blood is elating!

“That was pure luck!” Zubat cries in indignation.

“Luck or talent?” Darkrai would love to bare some teeth at this statement, but alas, neither in his original form nor in this one does he have the ability to do so. His mocking voice must be enough. “Or do you simply tell yourself that to sleep peacefully at night?”

“Oh you—“ the bat starts, but then reigns himself in and instead just scoffs.

Koffing continues for him, instead, “We didn’t have the Chief with us, then!”

That makes Darkrai halt. Chief? Was it not always the two of them? He thinks back to his days in Trash Town and, as through a thick fog, he can shadowy remember that… there might have been someone else. But who was it? Whoever it was, it was most definitely not as actively harassing Darkrai as Zubat and Koffing did. And Darkrai may just have… decided that remembering all of this was useless.

Blast it! Now he is paying the price for disregarding a useless Pokémon! But it is not his fault that he is so very far above these peasant, that he should never have had to care about any of them!

Seemingly smelling his confusion (and what a wonder it is that they can even smell anything, with how much they stink), Koffing condescendingly elaborates. “Team Skull, our exploration team,” (What an incredibly stupid name, Team Sky sounds so much better) he tells, “Has three members.”

“Our chief is incredibly talented,” Zubat crows, both of them still caught up on this little ‘talent’-insult, as it seems. Darkrai actually does not understand why.

Koffing continues, “To put it bluntly, he’s brutally tough.”

“If he’s as weak as you, I don’t think we have anything to fear.”

Darkrai turns to look at his side – was it truly Pearl who said that? For a second, he thought it must have been himself. It certainly sounded like something he would say, and not the… the hero!

She is… he cannot think of her as amazing simply because she knows how to insult idiots blustering themselves up! He cannot do so! He will not abandon his plans of revenge just because she is one of the most amusing Pokémon he has met in the last decades.

Zubat splutters. “Our Chief is amazingly strong! If he were around, we’d snap you like twigs!”

Koffing laughs at that.

Oh yes, what a great metaphor, Darkrai is incredibly impressed with it. He was even thinking of laughing, so good was it. Truly.

“Speaking of the Chief, I can smell him coming now!” Koffing suddenly exclaims.

And indeed, the smell gets even worse, just as a Skuntank makes its way down. Realization sets in. Yes, of course. That was the third Pokémon, was it not? Darkrai suddenly remembers, and then, he has to hold back a cough. Ugh! The smell was already bad enough when it was just Koffing!

“Move!” the Skuntank snaps at Pearl, and before he has even given her a chance to do so, he has already attacked her with his foul-smelling spray.

Now that is just rude! The only one who should be allowed to hurt Pearl is Darkrai, and he is only allowed to do so after he has properly started with his revenge!

Besides, a Skuntank’s spray really, really stinks. Darkrai… may just pass out if he does not get away from Pearl, soon. He takes a step to the side, and another one, and when the smell really does not lessen, another. It does not help.

Pearl, meanwhile, starts coughing and gasping for breathes of air. Probably unsuccessfully, judging by how much it still stinks even over here. And Darkrai did not even get hit!

Moreover, the chatter around them gets louder as the other present guild members start complaining about the smell. A few are even coughing themselves, and a few are throwing Pearl worried gazes. Skuntunk, however, ignores all of them, and instead tries to walk past Darkrai.

Who inadvertently moved in his way trying to get away from Pearl. Just his luck.

“Move it!” he shouts at Darkrai, “Or do you want to end up like that wimp over there?!” What a grating voice – just befitting of such an ugly, foul, stinking Pokémon.

“A better question is this: Would you like to end up smelling even worse due to being a rotting corpse?” Darkrai snaps back on instinct, and oops, that might be seen as too violent a threat. Still, it is worth the Skuntank’s face, who looks taken aback at first, and then, angry.

“Hah! Got some sass in you, don’t you, little ghost! Well, I’ll give you one last chance – you better remember who’s got the type advantage.”

Type advantage his as…sasination that will soon follow of this Pokémon.

Sure, if Darkrai was an actual ghost, he would most likely be on the losing side – but he is not. And he is also a literal god walking disguised amongst peasants, so really, he is willing to take that chance.

“You know, your friends here were just telling me how incredibly talented you are. But seeing how you feel it necessary to threaten someone with your type advantage, I have a hard time actually believing you.” His insult actually seems to have an effect, as Skuntank wordlessly hisses at him. It’s an ugly noise, just like everything else about this Pokémon.

And suddenly, Darkrai remembers that fighting is not allowed in Trash Town and the guild, and he thinks of Magnezone’s horrible holding cell.

“Still,” he therefore continues, trying to smooth things over just the tiniest bit without making himself seem like less than he is, “I would not want to stop someone as talented as you from associating with equally talented Pokémon.” And with a mocking salute, followed by an even more mocking bow, he moves out of the way.

The three Pokémon stare at him, clearly not sure how to succeed. From his other side, where the remaining guild members retreated to after Skuntank’s barbaric behaviour, Darkrai can hear others calling out, things like, “You tell ‘em, Duskull!”, and, “Show them what we’ve got!”

Darkrai dares to glance at Pearl for a second, then. She’s still coughing… and honestly might continue doing it for the rest of the day. At least Sunflora has moved to her side, and holds a steady hand (leaf?) to her back.

“I don’t think you understand your position, ghost,” Skuntank hisses, pulling Darkrai’s attention away again. And not a second too late, because without any warning, he attacks with another spray of foul-smelling substance. Unluckily for him, advertising his own attacks is never a smart idea, and Darkrai is prepared.

After all, he tried his best to keep anyone from fighting. He truly did! And as a rule, he does not engage with Pokémon that he believes are stronger than him – but Skuntank, very obviously, cannot be stronger. So by showing his willingness to fight, by not backing down, Skuntank should have known not to try his luck. But then again, what can be expected by a Pokémon which’s IQ is beneath a Joltik’s height?

He counters with Ominous Wind, which throws the spray right back unto its user and his two cronies. Their faces at his action are a sight to be seen – first, there is surprise, then the horrified realization, and finally, the coughing – at least from Zubat and Skuntank. Koffing probably thinks it smells like a nice flowery patch.

Darkrai cannot help but snicker at their misfortune – whoever thought that only knocking Pokémon out would grant satisfaction was very wrong.

And then, he has to force down his own gagging, because by now, the smell has become really, really unbearable. Tarnation, he should have taken to wearing the neckerchief the guild gave him when he started. With that, he could at least cover his nose!

“You fuc—” Skuntank starts, but he is fortunately interrupted by an angry Chatot flying into the room. The bird must have either heard some of their argument, or simply smelt the noxious fumes.

“What is going on here?!” he shouts, flapping his wings very agitatedly. Which has the positive side effect of displacing some of that awful smell. Darkrai spares one quick glance towards Pearl, who seems to be coughing no longer. Instead, she is gagging. Which is… better? At least Sunflora is still comforting her, freeing Darkrai from that task. He is not sure he could stomach standing next to her right now, plan or no plan.

He looks back at Chatot, who really seems… quite angry. Did Darkrai screw up? But he was just defending himself! Skuntank attacked first!

Not that this seems to matter to Chatot, who turns towards Darkrai. “Duskull, what did you do?!”

This assumption… He was not at fault! What should he have done, allowed himself to be hit in the face by another’s attack?! Darkrai is about to defend himself, but just then, another’s voice rings out.

“Duskull isn’t guilty!” Chimecho cries, “This Skuntank first attacked Pearl and then tried to attack him, too!”

“What?!” Argh, his ears! Chatot’s cry is much too shrill and piercing. It resounds within his mind even after Chatot has stopped speaking, and makes his skin crawl.

But he ignores that feeling, and instead thinks of Chimecho taking his side. That… felt nice. Even though it is only because of his previous manipulations, of course.

“Yeah, it’s true! Skuntank set off a stinking attack against Duskull, he just evaded it, eek!” Sunflora confirms from Pearl’s side, and even Bidoof gives a short “Yup yup, that’s what happened!”

But idiots never go down without a fight, and so, once they have gathered their bearings, more idiocy spills from their mouths.

“We did nothing but look at the job board when these rookies started bothering us, for no reason whatsoever!” Koffing cries, and Zubat nods to that, at least until he is interrupted by his own cough. Hah. “Our Chief simply tried to get them to back off.”

Darkrai cannot stop himself in time from rolling his eye. “If only your lies smelt as bad as your attacks, you cads.”

“Duskull! No profanities!” Chatot cries, because he just has it out for Darkrai, does he not?

“That wasn’t a profanity,” Darkrai murmurs, but luckily, he goes unheard. He would never use profanity-laden language to make a point. In fact, he never uses profanity-laden language. He is above that.

“So, let me get this straight,” Chatot finally tries to recapitulate what happened, “You were looking at the job board and Team Sky here started to bother you?”

“It was the other way around,” Darkrai states, anger rising in his chest. Can the bird not smell? Besides, how can he get things so very wrong? To ignore what the other guild members are saying, and instead focus on his hate for Darkrai—

Ah, yes. Of course. That is what is happening. Darkrai would like to be surprised, but… Well.

Pearl, who had finally stopped her gagging, hurries over. Sunflora remains where the two of them sat before, looking very put-out by everything that is happening.

“These two once stole from Darcy and—” Pearl interrupts herself with a cough, “ And we had to follow them through a Mystery Dungeon to get it back! They have it out for him!”

“We didn’t steal! We simply admired something of Duskull’s!” Zubat tries to defend himself – and that was probably the wrong decision, as it just proves that they did, indeed, take something that did not belong to them.

“It wasn’t our fault that he immediately acted like he didn’t give us permission to look at it!” Koffing adds which is just—

“You simply took it!” Darkrai cries, and Pearl, at the same time, shouts, “You’re lying!”

“We aren’t—”

“Silence!” Chatot shouts, and this once, at least, everyone falls quite. Then, the bird looks from one group to the other. “So you four… five? Have a history?”

Darkrai crosses his arms. “You could say that,” he then admits. Which is really putting underselling things, is it not?

And then, Skuntank decides to join the conversation once again. “I apologize for my friends’ misbehaviour,” he says, and what?! Don’t tell Darkrai that he is trying to— “It seems that, when I arrived, I read the situation wrong.” What is it with this voice Skuntank is using, this is almost… charming! How dare he? “I was just standing up for my friends, I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

This—! Piece of—

Darkrai is very, very close to attacking Skuntank and pulling him into a world of nightmares. He has not done that in far too long, anyways! So who will stop him, huh?

… But unfortunately, he is still in the middle of a plan which requires him to not do so. Blast it.

“Ah, a simple misunderstanding, then!” Chatot chirps, suddenly very happy as the situation seemingly resolves itself. “Then I apologize on behalf of our guild, Mr. Skuntank!”

Misunderstanding his… three-lettered-bodypart-used-for-sitting.

“It’s alright,” Skuntank assures Chatot, and if Darkrai was not looking out for it, he might have missed the fraction of a second where Skuntank looked at Darkrai as if he had won. “Since we don’t want to trouble you anymore, we’ll be off.” Skuntank then continues, so very polite that Darkrai almost applauds it for the act it is able to play. Almost. Instead, he holds back a visceral hiss. These… they are getting off so easy! Does Chatot really not care for some other guys attacking guild members, on the guild’s very own premisses?

Apparently not, as the three scoundrels make their way towards the ladder uninterrupted. Soon enough, they are truly gone - for now. Darkrai is sure that they will meet again, and then…

… He will kill them.

“And you two…” Chatot turns towards Pearl and Darkrai. The bird seems truly angry. But why? Did he, himself, not just say that the situation was resolved?

“You were bothering an honest explorer’s team, for no other reason than an old grudge?! If you want to go on the expedition, you better overthink your behaviour again!”

Pear, at that, nervously rubs the flats of her palms against each other and stares at the ground. Darkrai has other plans.

“I did not bother—”

“Silence! Do not even try to defend yourself, Duskull!” Chatot outright hisses. “Now, there’ll be no jobs for you today! Return to your quarters immediately, and stay there! Be happy that I won’t punish you any worse!”

 

He is grounded. He, Darkrai, Ruler over Nightmares and Darkness, is grounded. He, Darkrai, has been grounded by a Chatot.

How is this possible?!

This should not-, this cannot be happening! Why is he letting himself live through this embarrassment? Why is he letting Chatot, the cause for this embarrassment, live any longer?!

And no, he is not sulkily sitting on his bed! He is nefariously plotting revenge… while incidentally sitting on his bed. There is a big difference, thank you very much! Oh, how he wants to kill Chatot! First Chatot, then Skuntank and his cronies!

Long, drawn out, violent deaths he will give them, haunted by the worst imaginable nightmares they will be, forevermore! Once time has stopped its run, they will wish that a dark world was their only worry!

He sighs out loud, knowing that he will have to wait quite some time until that happens. Really, how does it make any sense that he is more inclined to kill those who bother Pearl and him, than just Pearl? She is really the least hateable of the Pokémon here; or maybe a close second, after Dareios.

It is too bad that she would never agree with the real him, or he would try to propose to her to become his underling. But no, she just likes the lie he is presenting. As everyone has always done and will always do.

But nothing of these things has to do with his current predicament, so really, he can stop thinking about it now! No, there are way better things to concentrate on. Like…

Well. In the last few weeks he had grown rather lax, when it comes to pranking others – he managed to blow almost all of his steam off by exploring and attacking the feral Pokémon one finds in Mystery Dungeons. But now? Now, he really wants to prank someone. Chatot would be a good victim. Team Skull would be ideal, of course, but he cannot leave the guild, and unfortunately also does not know where they normally dwell. Wigglytuff would be satisfying, too. Bidoof, maybe, just for being a pathetic annoyance? Or perhaps Loudred?

Not Chimecho, however, he decides. She is on his good side. And not Sunflora, at least not for the next few days. Sure, she did not help Darkrai directly, but he can appreciate her taking the burden of a stinking Pearl off his hands.

Speaking of Pearl…

She is simply lying on her bed, her back turned towards him. She had said nothing ever since they were… grounded.

And she also still… smells. She did try to wash herself – no thanks to Chatot, who just ignored her state (and Darkrai is now honestly wondering if he just lacks a sense of smell), no, instead Pearl had to make use of the fact that she is, luckily enough, a water-type. But still, the smell… lingers. It is not as bad as before, sure, but… it is not pleasant.

Pearl is just lucky that Darkrai had already somewhat adjusted to similar smells in the past, due to living in the Dark Crater so often. Where there is volcanic activity, it generally… reeks. By now, Sulphur even smells halfway pleasant to him. Sometimes.

Unfortunately, ever since they were forced to go here, Pearl has not spoken a single word. No, she just walked into the room, let herself fall on the bed, and turned her back towards Darkrai. Probably to ignore him.

And really, he was alright with that at first. But he is beginning to worry.

Should he ask how she is feeling? But no, she might she be angry with him for attacking Skuntank, and, in a weirdly related way, getting them in this situation in the first place. So, judging on what he knows from Cresselia – who would always get angry when he attacked someone, no matter his reasons for doing so or the results – he should best not do so.

But what else should he do? This quiet is becoming too much, even for him!

Well. Maybe… Maybe, he could just ask Pearl if she wants to help him plan his prank, no? But perhaps she is too much of a hero for that… Is pranking considered evil? He never really considered the morality of pranks at length. But they should not be considered too bad, right? Else, Dareios and he would have been driven out of Trash Town already, most likely. And Chatot also mentioned knowing about them having occasionally played pranks, but did not threaten to ground Darkrai for it, or anything similar.

That also reminds him, Pearl must already know about him liking to prank others! And she did not confront him for it, until now. So, really, there should not be any harm in at least mentioning the possibility of including her in his miniature-revenge.

“So I have been thinking,” he starts, and when there is no ‘Oh, so now you can do it?!’, he takes that as a good sign, “And I think that a prank on the guild is really overdue.”

He makes a pause, but Pearl does not say anything. So he continues, intent on just ignoring the awkward feeling her silence leaves. “Chatot once semi-mentioned it, but before I found you, I would play them occasionally. Not to truly hurt anyone!” he hurries to defend himself, “It is just… something ghost-types do, I guess.”

And still, nothing. Is she that angry? Darkrai hopes not. She has not shouted at him, yet, or told him that he is a malady on the world, so he takes it as a cautiously good sign.

“I have had a few ideas, but none of them are really great,” he then admits, “I thought that I might bake biscuits with salt instead of sugar, but unfortunately… I cannot really bake. Besides, who would ever be stupid enough to take a biscuit from the Pokémon everyone knows does not bake? And I have not offered anyone here food before, why should they suddenly think me to have good intentions when I do so? No one trusts ghost-types.” Or dark-types. He sighs.

No answer. Not even a movement which could be interpreted as such. Tough audience.

“Another food related idea was to freeze all the berries for breakfast, so when the others try to eat them, they get a cold surprise, but… I do not know any ice attacks. And knowing the brutes they are, they would most likely just enjoy it.”

Silence. Ugh, this is getting kind of uncomfortable. Not even a ‘They aren’t brutes’? Maybe she… fell asleep? No, then she would have nightmares and he would notice that.

“I was also thinking, I might get some big stones and use them to seal off the access to Wigglytuff’s office while he is at dinner or something similar. But that would require getting out and…”

Argh, wrong direction! Best not to mention the outside for now.

“Well, it is looking like it will start to rain, anyway.” Or maybe too make it seem very bad, actually. “I like overcast days, but… I do not like getting wet. So it might be a blessing in disguise that we will have to remain in here, for today. Well.” He stops. He likes monologuing. He loves it, even. But this is… just uncomfortable.

Last try. If this one does not work, he will just give up and spend the rest of the day in utter silence.

“The last idea I had was to just leave a small, useless item everywhere whenever no one is looking, and just let them go crazy with the randomly appearing items over time.”

He pauses, waiting for input. Nothing comes.

Well, he tried, and—

“The last one sounds like the funniest idea. And it’s the easiest one, too. I mean, if we ask Dareios, he’s definitely bound to have something to help with, right? Chatot mentioned that it was the two of you playing pranks, yeah?”

The relief that washes over him as he hears her speaking—

… Is only because she has not suddenly decided to reject him due to a small slip-up. If it can even be called that. It was not his fault, after all.

“But asking him would mean letting Dareios in on this specific plan,” he states, as monotone as he can. It is hard, but still better than showing his delight at still being considered her friend.

“You think he wouldn’t love to be in on it?”

“…  A fair point.”

 

The dawn of the next day, they are greeted by rain splashing against the window. Which is quite unfortunate, but although Darkrai does not like getting doused, it is still better than being confined in the guild.

What is much more unfortunate is, however, the small bundle of Pokémon entering Pearl and his’ room just after Darkrai can hear Chatot’s daily morning speech end. Which Pearl and he were not allowed to join, as the last part of their ‘punishment’. This, as far as Darkrai is concerned, is actually quite the opposite of a punishment. He did not tell Chatot as much.

In any way, just after the speech ends, when he and Pearl prepare to finally leave their room, four others walk in – Bidoof, Sunflora, Chimecho and Diglett.

And Darkrai will admit… he is somewhat confused. What is their reason for it? Is this another part of their punishment, previously unmentioned? But he just cannot see Chatot leaving any real punishment to be meted out by these four.

“Good morning, Pearl, Duskull!” Sunflora greets, a greeting which is then repeated by everyone but Darkrai. This morning is not good, he has decided, because four annoyances just entered his room, unannounced.

“Morning, everyone,” Pearl answers, and then asks, “Uh, did I miss something?”

“Yeah!” Diglett cries, “You two missed dinner!”

“So we did. What is your point?” Darkrai responds, no idea where this is going.

“Well, uh, we figured you’d be hungry, and besides, it was really mean of Chatot to ground you, so uh…” Bidoof explains, and once he inevitably trails off – the small amount of intelligence he sometimes possess rapidly fleeing him after such a lengthy half-sentence – Chimecho continues instead, “So each of us put something aside for you, to bring you after we finished. But Chatot forbade us from visiting you yesterday, so we brought it now!”

“Yeah, so here you go!” Sunflora opens her arms, and out tumble various fruits. It is really… more than Darkrai would have expected. Knowing them, he would have assumed that they would only think about doing such a gesture once the last fruit was in their mouth.

Diglett smiles, and proudly tells, “My Dad, Loudred, Corpish and even Croagunk helped to collect for you, too!”

Which explains the amount, actually.

Cimecho laughs. “I think Chatot may have noticed what was going on, but in the end, he did not say anything, so really, dig in!”

“This is-, Everyone, thank you so much!” Pearl cries, and are those tears in here eyes? So many unnecessary emotions. How direful. Sometimes Darkrai wishes he could keep her away from others, just so no one would need to get soppy for no real reason. But alas, unlike him, she actually needs social contact.

“It’s the least we can do for you two, yup yup!”

“I mean, without you, these Team Skull idiots would, like, never have left and that’d just be, like, eek! Bad eek!”

Darkrai does not agree with Sunflora’s choice of words, but the sentiment, he does share.

“Besides, we are all friends! That’s what friends do for each other!” Diglett says, a… grin? on his face. A Diglett’s facial features are not very readable.

But that is beside the point, the point being whatever in the Distortion World’s name Diglett is talking about! Friends? He and them, friends? Oh, he does not wonder that they consider Pearl their friend, but why is he included in that… statement?

“Friends?” he questions out loud, about to correct the mistake.

“Y-yeah?” Bidoof answers, cowering beneath Darkrai’s gaze.

“I mean, what else would we be?” Chimecho asks, and, hm, mortal enemies is most likely not the answer they want to hear. Just enemies? A traitor in their midst and sycophants believing themselves to be important to him?

“… Acquaintances,” Darkrai finally decides on.

And suddenly, everyone is laughing. What—

Are they making fun of him?!

They must be making fun of him!

“Oh, never change, Darcy,” Pearl laughs.

Darkrai does not understand. He is not sure if he wants to understand.

 

The day’s business goes not too bad, all things considered. Chatot’s coincidentally being next to the job boards, just when Pearl and Darkrai chose their daily task, he could ignore, just like the glare from the bird. Team Skull did not make an appearance, and thus kept Darkrai from going on a murder spree, which he would consider nice. And at the end of the day, they ensured Dareios’ help for their plans, and although the ghost was his usual self… It was alright.

So really, besides the morning, the day was acceptable, Darkrai decides. And the evening should be, too.

Which poses the question as to why, exactly, his room is once again filled with more than two Pokémon. This is not a common room! He does not care if the four consider themselves ‘friends’ or whatever new term they came up with during the day. Something about a squid? Squod? He does not care!

He does not care whatever inane babble they fill the evening with, he does not care about their attempts at friendliness towards him! He has no reason to be friendly towards them, why do they insist on testing that?!

“I just want to sleep,” he finally forces out from his bed, pushing his head into it to hopefully cover his ears at least a little. This leads to… a bout of laughter from them.

Darkrai groans.

 

The next day, he has a good feeling in his stomach – today is going to be a good day. It can only be better, since Pearl and he are ‘allowed’ to join the morning address, and therefore, no Pokémon can go into their room and surprise them with… well, whatever it was they tried to surprise them with, yesterday.

So yes, the day can only be good, now that the morning address is over, and he can leave the guild and—

“Everyone!” Chatot’s grating voice interrupts his thoughts, which had already started to flee this place even when his body had not, “I have an announcement before we get down to work.”

Come on! Sometimes, the bird is really begging to be killed, is he not? What reason does he have to hold them back this time?

Well, perhaps this is about the Time Gears again. It has been a long while since they were told anything about the first theft. Or, only theft, as far as others are aware.

“Let me introduce our new allies!”

New allies? What new allies could Chatot mean? As far as Darkrai has gathered, no new Pokémon were in town, who wanted to join the guild, so what is this about? Then again, Darkrai does, against popular believe, not know absolutely everything that goes on in the guild, or in town. That’s Dareios.

Darkrai stares at a ladder, but he should not have bothered, because suddenly an awful stench fills the room. And although he holds out hope that maybe, just maybe, it will be a Muk or Grimer, perhaps a Trubbish or a Garbodor… he knows that it will not be.

And alas, he is right, as all three members of Team Skull make their way down the ladder, coming to a stop right next to Chatot.

“These three are going to be our new partners,” Chatot says, really much too chipper for the entire situation. Wigglytuff, meanwhile, simply stares off into the distance. What a truly wonderful Guildmaster he is.

Darkrai’s violent tendencies reawaken within a mere second, and the good mood he previously found himself in disappears completely.

“I’m Koffing.”

“Zubat here. Glad to meet you!”

“And I’m Skuntank. Remember the name.”

Darkrai stares at the three of them, considering if revealing himself now to force endless nightmares on them would really be so bad of a thing. Besides, is this really the guild’s standard? Will they truly let anyone join, if they just lie about having good intentions?

(And no, he is not talking about himself, darn it!)

Not truly listening to Chatot explain how the three Pokémon won’t join them as apprentices, but will still be part of the expedition, Darkrai’s murderous intent rises to a new high.

Generally, he does not kill anyone on purpose. Self-defence, real self-defence, of course, he does not count. If someone is intent on killing him and he can only safe himself by killing them instead, he will not hesitate.

But generally… There are much better ways to show others their place. And murder… He has done many, many things which are considered bad, but he still finds himself shying away from killing. He likes to imagine it, likes to torture those caught in his nightmares with images of their many painful deaths… but none of these murders are truly real. He might have brought about the collapse of Temporal Tower, leading to the deaths of many Pokémon, but he does not… like to kill directly. He will do it, if necessary! But he does not like it.

And still, Team Skull…

He wants to murder them so badly.

“I ask everyone to treat our guests with hospitality,” Chatot sing-songs. Darkrai glares at him Not until the Distortion World has become a place without waterfalls will he do so, and probably not even then.

The only small reprieve he has, the only thing that really stops him from simply jumping those three and killing them here and now, is that the rest of the guild seems to share his disgust.  Not that he cares about having other Pokémon on his side, but it is nice—, useful to have other Pokémon share his opinion.

Especially when they start voicing their dissatisfaction out loud.

“Eew, how can the Guildmaster stand this?”

“This is really… strange, I mean, is this normal? Can they just join like that?”

“Something about this stinks, literally!”

“I sure hope this expedition ends soon, yup yup…”

“YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING!” the Loudred finally yells, his voice being heard clear above all others. Dialga and Palkia could not be louder if they tried. “This STINKS! How do you expect us to be cheerful, when—”

And then, the ground starts to shake. An earthquake? or a ground-type?

The second option is unlikely, both Diglett and Dugtrio are still next to them, unmoving. So, an earthquake?

But instead of running for cover, Chatot, in obvious panic, turns towards Wigglytuff. Who is looking…

Well. This is certainly strange. His eyes are scrunched up (Darkrai has never even seen him blink, he was honestly doubting that Wigglytuff had eyelids at all) and he is shaking, as if… angry?

And Chatot sounds awfully upset. “No! Guildmaster, please, everything is alright!” he cries, and when Wigglytuff does not react to his words, he turns towards the rest of the guild, horrified, “His rage is building! If he gets angry… it will be horrific!”

What.

But… The Wigglytuff is just an ordinary Pokémon! He should not be able to—

“Horrific! Everyone! Come on! Be cheerful, even if it hurts!” Chatot cries, and then, as if the world is not literally shaking around them, puts on a mask of happiness and cries, “Let’s get down to today’s work, everyone!”

He cannot force Darkrai to be happy! If he wants to be annoyed, he will be annoyed, and no one can stop him! And if he wants to be murderous, then he will be! A raging Wigglytuff will not stop him from that!

As Chatot and Pearl send him murderous glares, he decides that he is suddenly feeling incredibly happy, for no reason whatsoever. For one time in his life, he joins the cacophonous shout of “Hooray!”

The earth stills. The day continues as if nothing ever happened.

 

“It just… does not make any sense, whatsoever!”

“As you’ve said, like, ten times now,” Pearl answers, sounding incredibly bored. So what if he has been ranting ever since they entered the Dungeon? He has every right to do so!

“I just don’t understand how a simple normal-fairy-type could bring a whole building to shake!”

“Yeah, that you’ve said only… seven times, I think.”

Darkrai ignores her and her attitude. “There is no attack that would have that effect, at least none that Wigglytuff could’ve ever learnt! And don’t try to tell me that it was Frustration, just incredibly strong. No Pokémon’s Frustration makes the earth rumble!”

“I get it, Darcy. It makes no sense, you have no idea how it happened. Can we just… concentrate on our job, now?”

“But it doesn’t make any sense!”

Pearl sighs, loudly. “And that’s number eleven.”

 

As they lie in their beds, the jobs and conversations over for today, both about to fall asleep, Darkrai cannot help himself but mumble, “It just… doesn’t make any sense, at all.”

Pearl groans.

 

The next day, Chatot calls them over to tell them of their newest mission – collecting food, or more exactly, apples, to replenish the guild’s larder. Darkrai cannot help but share a gaze with Pearl which says, ‘Oh, so the guild takes our money so they can feed us? With the food we have to gather ourselves?’

He is not sure if Pearl understands the exact words, but she definitely gets the sentiment, as proven by her rolling her eyes, sighing in exasperation and finally ending with a helpless shrug.

“Since the food stock dropped sharply all of a sudden, it is of the utmost importance that you bring back enough, do you understand?” Chatot looks at them, awaiting an answer.

“Of course we do,” Darkrai tells him, careful not to roll his eye. The stock drops suddenly, just after Team Skull joins them? How mysterious. They certainly could not ever have had anything to do with it, definitely. It must be a simple coincidence.

“Good, good. The others are also gathering different foods today, you know, but your job might just be the most important.”

“Why? I mean, apples are great,” Pearl hastily explains herself, “But we could live a day without apples, could we not? Not that we will fail!”

“I am sure that all of us could,” Chatot says, and then, sighs, heavily. “But the Guildmaster…” he trails off. “You need to return with as many Perfect Apples as you can, do you understand? If the Guildmaster does not have any Perfect Apples, he would, he w-w-w-would, w-well, the G-Guildmaster w-w-would—”

“Would what?”

Chatot squeeks. “So, anyways, make sure to bring them with you! I am begging you! Even if it costs… well, even if it costs you everything! You must bring back Perfect Apples.”

Chatot does not elaborate any more after that, too shaken from whatever he saw happening before his inner eye.

Really, what is up with Wigglytuff?

Now, Darkrai has always… had some amount of… respect, if one could call it so, for Guildmaster Wigglytuff. He does not like the Pokémon – rather the opposite, he positively despises him – but he would not engage him in a fight without some backup.

He does not fear him, of course!

He just… would not want to run into him in a dark alley after Darkrai did something… illicit. Wigglytuff has a reputation for everyone on the wrong side of the law, and it is…

Well.

So he decides to get these Perfect Apples, whatever it takes.

 

The Dungeon, at the end of which Perfect Apples can be found, is aptly named ‘Apple Woods’. Very creative.

Unfortunately for Pearl, though, mostly grass-types dwell there, what with it being a lush forest. Now, if she was fully evolved, this would not be as much of a problem, but alas, she is not. And from some of the rumours he has heard about Luminous Spring being useless at the moment, she will have to remain this way, at least until she has taken care of his past self. Springs aiding in evolution always turn finicky when any kind of distortion of the planet seems to be going on.

For a while, Darkrai also wonders why Chatot decided to send the two of them out. Oh, of course, he thinks that he is up to the task, and even if Pearl may struggle, he can take care of any Pokémon they run into. Oh, the many things he does to keep her believing that he is her friend and always looking out for her.

But still… Chatot still considers them the weakest team of the guild. He is wrong with that assessment, but also very rigid in his believes, so Darkrai doubts that he will start believing them to be anything but, unless someone else joins the guild. And yet, he chose them to gather apples for Wigglytuff. Apples which apparently work as mood stabilisers.

It is… strange.

Well. Not as if there is anything he can do right now to unveil that mystery. Best to just concentrate on getting through the Dungeon.

It is not hard, mostly – just the watching out for Pearl sometimes gets troublesome, especially when she decides to investigate somewhere else while he is busy checking through the walls for the way out. And, he has to admit, another annoying thing is that, while posing as a Duskull, he can no longer use his favourite attack, Dark Void.

No, instead he had to adjust his whole moveset for the illusion, and now mainly relies on Ominous Wind and Dark Pulse, and an occasional Double Team, which is, unfortunately, not an offensive attack. So Ominous Wind and Dark Pulse it is, since he refuses to attack any of the feral Pokémon with his claws. If he started doing so, he could just cut off his hand and be done with it.

Well. Anyways.

Due to his prowess at fighting, they reach the deepest part of the woods in good time, and he has only had to drain one of his attacks to its limit – Ominous Wind, unfortunately. Using it just one more time now would probably make him faint, he knows from experience.

But Chatot did not indicate that there would be any danger at the end of the Dungeon, and just this one time, Darkrai is inclined to believe him. After all, he is the head of intelligence for the guild, and this Dungeon has been travelled by said guild multiple times by now.

No, the bird only described what the end of the Dungeon was supposed to look like - – a tree, easily told apart from other trees because it is at the end of the Dungeon, because it is at the centre of a clearing, and because of its immense age. Chatot wagered that it had to be at least 300 years old, an extraordinary age for an apple tree.

And now that Darkrai stands before it, he actually believes the bird.

Its stem is many times the thickness of an ordinary tree, its size much higher than that of the trees surrounding it, its crown shading almost half the clearing. There are deep grooves on its stem and all its branches, branches which, where Darkrai can see them through the foliage, are in some cases much thicker than a normal apple tree’s stem. The roots are just as thick as the branches, or even thicker, and sprawl out all around the tree before they finally dig into the ground.

It truly is an extraordinary tree, Darkrai can admit. And it explains why the Perfect Apples only grow on this one tree in the entire forest.

Perhaps, once Darkrai has created a world of darkness, he should find a way to destroy it. Just so that Wigglytuff will do whatever Chatot fears will happen if there are no Perfect Apples to be found. A thought for another time. For now, he marvels at the tree.

But unfortunately, the apples grow rather high up. It is no wonder – with foliage that thick, the sun would never reach them if they grew any lower. Still, it means that, most ordinary Pokémon would have to scale the tree to reach them. Pokémon like Pearl, for example.

Who looks at the apples, then at him. “Do we have to… climb?” she asks, despair growing on her face.

“I dislike scaling trees,” he answers. It is the truth, for once. He never saw the appeal of it, not even during his worst days.

She continues staring. “But… Oh! Darcy, do you think you could simply… float up there and take them?”

He scoffs. “Floating is not the same as flying, Pearl.”

“Oh...” She sounds disappointed.

“But yes, theoretically I can still reach this height. With a mix of jumping and floating.” One of the situations where it comes in rather handy to have legs. Or leg-y? He groans out loud. That one was so bad, he would definitely deserve to be killed in this moment.

Well, the moment has passed, thankfully, and now he can continue living while ignoring he ever thought of a pun that bad.

“Oh!” And now, she sounds delighted.

Loud laughter interrupts their conversation and, ugh, what is with that sudden horrible smell?!

“You can’t float if you’re knocked out!”

And jumping out of the tree’s foliage, Skuntank and his cronies land in front of them. Which was an unnecessary entrance. Really unnecessary.

“Was it not complicated to get so high up in this tree? Whyever would you do that?” Darkrai asks, and he continues, truly askance, “Since when have you even been waiting for us?”

“That’s what we wanted to ask you, what took you so long?” Zubat asks back (and completely ignores two thirds of his questions), and Koffing adds, “We’ve been having us a picnic of Perfect Apples while waiting for you to show up.”

“You did what?” Darkrai screeches, anger starting to take over. He did not want to meet those idiots today! He did not want to ever meet them at all! And now they openly admit to eating the apples he has come to gather, the apples that keep Wigglytuff from… completely breaking all laws of time and space?!

Koffing laughs. “You took so long, I stuffed myself!” Then, he burbs.

Disgusting. He will kill them. He will kill them, no matter if Pearl will see it, no matter if it means murdering someone else. He will kill them, and he will laugh while doing so.

“So you ate them?” he asks, ice creeping into his voice, “What direful behaviour – but luckily for you, it should not be a problem – after all, I know how to gut idiots like you.”

The following silence makes him realize that this threat… may have just been… a little excessive. Or a lot, if he has to be completely honest with himself. He does not even know how to properly gut someone! But he wants to.

The silence grows, and grows, and grows even longer, until that ‘Chief’ of theirs finally comes up with an answer. “Gut us? That’s so very rude of you! Why, I was even going to offer my help for your mission.”

“Help? I’m a little lost by what you mean with ‘Help’,” Pearl inserts herself in the conversation, her tone a mocking echo of the one Zubat used before. “Help in the form of eating them? Or help by trying to beat us up?”

Skuntank mockingly shakes his head, and then says, “No, getting them off the tree, of course. Look.”

With that, the foul-smelling Pokémon walks towards the tree and starts batting his head against it, until – lo and behold – a few apples truly fall down. If it had even a single brain cell left before, it is surely gone after this. Not to mention how truly inefficient it is to get the apples down this way – now they will simply bruise in the next few days, and then Chatot will send them to gather apples, again, and Darkrai hates having to do work like this.

“Go on, now.” Skuntank grins. “Scoop up those Perfect Apples and scuttle back to the guild.” Then, he laughs. His cronies join in.

Darkrai shares a look with Pearl. That smells fishy, and not only because their… companions could use a bath. Nobody moves.

“Hm? What’s the matter? Aren’t you going to pick them up?” Skuntank jeers. The words sound like a threat, and Darkrai is entirely sure that they are intended to be just that.

“No,” he therefore answers.

“After I was so nice to help you pick them?” This mockenly-sweet tone is annoying.

“Please, I would be able to see that this is a trap if I was a Deino.”

That stops the three of them in their tracks and they turn to each other.

“Well, colour me surprised!” Zubat yelps, “They didn’t fall for it at all!”

Excuse him, he’s the master behind all that is vile and evil, he sees through every evil plot! Especially ones as poorly executed as this one!

“Well, it’s a little disappointing that you didn’t fall for our act…” Skuntank mumbles, as if to himself, and then continues, louder, “But so what? What are you gonna do about it?” He raises one of his eyebrows. At least Darkrai thinks so, it is hard to tell what is under that tail.

“Fight you, of course,” he answers, confident, “I have been itching to beat you up a second time for quite some time now. And Pearl, after all, needs some more training. You idiots will be good enough for that, at least.”

“Oh, I don’t think so!” Skuntank throws back. “Because I don’t think you‘ll be in any state to fight us after our noxious gas combo!”

As soon as Darkrai sees Koffing take the necessary breath, sees Skuntank turn around to face them with his behind, for whatever it is they are planning, he has already sunken into the shadows in a panic.

Normally, of course, he’d use Ominous Wind on any smell-based attack… but he really does not fancy fainting right now.

And sinking into the shadows… just seemed like the better idea. Which it might not have been, in hindsight.

Oh, sure, normally it is a somewhat useful skill! One Darkrai has possessed ever since the day he came into existence. Who would not want to be able to become a mere shadow on the ground? Cresselia was certainly always envious of it.

But if someone steps on him, or puts any kind of weight on him, he won’t be able to move away. If he gets hit by any attack at all, he gets forced out of the shadows immediately. And if an offensive attack hits him, the pain will be much worse than it would normally be.

And those are just the negative effects he knows! He has no clue whether slinking into the shadows just now destroyed his illusion!

But, and that is what is most important right now, it gets hard to notice him, and easy for him to get away.

So he dashes far, far away from the poisonous gas released by the idiots, feeling only a little bad about leaving Pearl behind – but what could he have done? At least one of them gets the chance to still beat them up!

He comes to a halt on the backside of the old tree, and leaves the shadows, careful not to let anyone see him. But no, the idiots are still on the other side of the tree.

Which is good, because his illusion is fully gone. For the first time in years, he looks like himself again, and as nice at this would normally be, he really does not have the time for it! If he wants to knock Skuntank and his cronies out, he will have to do so as ‘Darcy’, not some unknown Pokémon!

But recreating the illusion is not easy, and never quick. He can’t just slap it on! No, he needs to carefully do each and every step, and be very much easily attackable while he does so. Blast it!

He shakes his head to get these thoughts away. He can only concentrate on the now, and a sentiment of ‘Woe is me’ has never helped him before, it won’t do so now.

Faintly, through his concentration, he can hear Team Skull laughing, and talking, and also a little shouting. Probably wondering where Darkrai got to. But he is still busy, thank you very much.

Another loud shout finally destroys his concentration fully. He stares down at himself. The illusion is… good enough. If one stares at him for too long, something will seem off – like air rippling over hot objects. Not enough to realize what is going on, but enough to see that something is happening.

But if he knocks the three idiots out quickly enough – he should need no more than two attacks – that really does not matter.

“Where is he?!” Skuntank shouts, and oh, is there a little panic slipping into his voice? Cute. “Where’s the other one?!” Darkrai decides that, yes, now is the right time to reveal himself.

“Well, if that is not the mystery of the century,” he answers floating out from behind the tree. “I will admit, your attack was a…” He makes a pause for effect, “Nice idea. But now, it is my turn.” And he cannot keep the schadenfreude out of his voice as he adds, “And the best thing is… that no one will believe you.”

And with those words spoken, he uses Dark Void and plunges them into his world of nightmares. He had been itching to use that attack for months now, and a grin steals unto his faces as he looks at the idiots, already tossing around in distress.

Well, most of them – Zubat got lucky, seemingly having fainted before. Maybe the ‘noxious gas combo’ did not spare him, or Pearl managed to get one last attack in. But Koffing and Skuntank writhe on the ground, confronted with their worst fears.

Delightful.

He had missed this. Murder is still not his style, it seems, because as angry as he was before, seeing them living through their worst fears is still funnier.

… But perhaps he should kill them. The chance is… right before him.

They are defenceless right now. No one would know that they came here, probably, because Skuntank and his cronies going out into the forest seems like it was an impulsive decision on their part. They most likely overheard Chatot handing out assignments and decided to attack Pearl and him for some obtuse reason.

Even better, Darkrai could hide their bodies amongst the shrubbery surrounding the clearing. Some feral Pokémon would get rid of the bodies, most certainly.

So… it would be a perfect crime, would it not? No one would be able to trace it back to him.

Well, except for Pearl. She would… notice that their three adversaries did not return to the guild. But he could just tell her that he gave them such a good beating that they ran away, forever.

He stares at their motionless forms. No one to mourn them, no one to search for them, no one to even notice them missing. And it would just take a little help on his part.

He could be rid of them forever.

And they can do nothing to stop him.

It would be so easy.

…

… easy, huh.

He huffs. It would be a waste of his energy, that is what it would be. They are not worth it, in the end. He will have forgotten all about them in a few years time, and once he has created his proper world of darkness, they will probably die slowly and painfully anyways.

Besides, if they stay alive he can force them into endless nightmares again and again. That is much more his style, after all.

Decision made, he stares at Pearl, who is still knocked out. Most likely will be, for the foreseeable future. And ugh, she stinks.

Well. Everything in time. First, he needs to get his illusion in order, properly. And after that is done, he concentrates on getting the apples off the ground and into the bag. He does not feel like jumping, anymore, and its not his fault or problem if Wigglytuff gets bruised apples.

Darkrai already has to carry the bag the entire way back, after all. As he always does. Wait, why does it always have to be him? Sure, he is stronger, but that is no excuse to just use him as a… as a… a pack Mudbray! He is a god amongst Pokémon, he should not be mistreated like that!

… He sighs. It does not matter at the moment, anyway – Pearl won’t be able to carry herself and the bag as long as she is asleep. Fainted. Whatever. He has had a long day already. And she is very tiny – she probably would not even be able to carry a bag filled with just apples.

He stares at it. It is not quite full.

He sighs. Jumping it is - it really would not do for Chatot do send them here again in a few days time. Darkrai does not want to ever return to this wretched Dungeon.

And then, finally, the bag is filled to the brim, and Pearl is still unconscious.

That just raises the question anew of how he is supposed to carry her – he is not in the mood to just sit here and wait until she wakes up. Especially since that would mean that Team Skull could also wake up, and, well. He is feeling drained, if he has to be honest – maybe the re-applying of the illusion took more out of him than he noticed at first, and paired with everything that has happened today, is it a wonder that he does not feel up to any more fighting?

He sighs. It would be easiest to simply carry Pearl, then – under the illusion, he is still the same Pokémon, so he has the size and strength to do so. But he does not want to. He hates touching other Pokémon, and carrying them is just a very long, very drawn-out touching-process. If he carries her now, he will have to thoroughly wash himself once he arrives in Trash Town, and he will still feel disgusting afterwards.

Should he simply drag her over the ground? No, she would notice he did so, which would lead to questions he does not plan on answering. And probably negative emotions. Which he really cannot deal with, today.

He hates this… But whatever he needs to do to keep his plan alive, he will do, huh?

 

As they are almost out of the woods, Pearl finally stirs. The moment he can feel the movement, Darkrai drops her like a stone. Finally!

She lands with a loud, obviously very surprised huff of air, and then comes a groan. Then, she coughs. Might be because of the after-effects of Koffing and Skuntank’s actions, might be because of Darkrai dropping her. He does not care.

He does care that she still stinks, though. He scrunches up his nose. The entire way, he had wished that he could not smell.

“Darcy…?” She stares up at him, her voice hoarse.

“I’m here,” he ascertains, and then stares ahead. “We are almost out of the Apple Woods, but we should hurry if we don’t-, do not want those thugs to catch us before we reach the guild.”

“How did we get… here…?”

“I carried you. But it’s-, it is good you woke up. I am really not strong enough to carry you the whole way.”

He does not want to carry her the whole way. His body already feels disgusting all over, and if he could just chop off every piece of him that had to touch her, he would do so, probably. He loathes physical contact of any kind. Even the moveset he is currently using was created so none of his attacks need him touching anyone! All of his movesets are created with that thought in mind!

 “Oh, thank you… Did you knock them out?” Pearl’s voice shakes him out of his thoughts, but not the feeling. He wants to… burn himself. Drown himself. Anything to get rid of the feeling of lingering touch. Phantom touch.

He visibly shakes himself to finally get his bearings together. “Yes. Of course. I did,” he finally answers, and then he is unsure about what else to say. He has… lost whatever this conversation was ever about.

“Hey… is everything alright?” Pearl asks him, always so considerate, always so perceptive. She stands up as she does so. Darkrai spares one look down, and then he looks at the path before them again.

“Yes, of course,” he answers. “I simply want to get back to Trash Town and bathe myself.”

Pearl looks around, the disorientation clear in her gaze. Then, she shakes her head, and a stream of questions escapes her. “That’s actually a good idea. Ugh, that attack was disgusting. How did you even stay conscious through it? Do you know any evasive attacks? Even the lingering smell on myself makes me want to curl up and die. But are you really okay? You just sound… distraught. You don’t have to talk about it, of course.”

“Too many questions, Pearl,” he sighs and massages his temples. His head is pounding, the feeling starting right behind his eye and following the lines of the scars on his face; he is having difficulties concentrating on even listening to her; he needs to wash himself; needs to get some time alone; needs to… to…

He takes a deep breath. He is not having a breakdown now. Not over simply having to carry another Pokémon on his back. He was fine before, after all. Just because she is now awake does not mean that he should suddenly feel worse.

(He should not. But he does.)

“Okay, sorry, sorry. Was the fight hard? Like, is that why you seem so… through the wind?”

“It was not hard. There was not much of a fight, really - I didn’t-, I mean, I did not get caught in the attack, I fled by using-“ Blast it, he can’t say ‘my ability to travel as a shadow’… he could… tweak it a little, surely, “Shadow Sneak. Once I got behind them, it was already basically-, well, it was almost over.”

“You know Shadow Sneak?” she asks, and always so perceptive. Always so… He needs to answer.

“I do.” That must count. He just-, just wants this conversation to be over. Wants the day to be over.

“That’s cool!” she says, keeping the blasted conversation alive even longer, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use it before.”

He shrugs (obviously with the help of his arms, Duskull still haven’t grown any notable shoulders). He needs… water. He needs to wash himself. He adds, “It’s not my strongest attack, I don’t need it too often.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense… Hey, Darcy?” Pearl’s tone shifts at the end, making him look at her directly.

“Yes?” he asks. Her eyes seem bigger than before and there’s a smile on her face.

“You are honestly really strong. I’m really happy that you are my friend.”

… It’s true, obviously, but, “There are Pokémon… stronger than me.” There is no real shame in admitting it. He isn’t so bull-headed to let himself believe he is the strongest Pokémon (unlike many others he knows. Some seem to positively thrive on engaging in fights they can only lose).

“Yeah, but we haven’t met any of them yet, have we? Or at least I haven’t! So for now, you’re super cool with how strong you are. And how you always watch out for me, I’m… really thankful for that, you know that, yeah?”

What is this? Is she trying to endear herself to him through compliments? Because it definitely isn’t working even in the slightest.

Or… is she trying to distract him, from this disgusting feeling that is… slowly ebbing away. Oh, it will stay much longer, he knows. But it… if she was truly trying to distract him, it worked. Slightly. He will at least not have a breakdown, right now.

He takes a deep breath. Should he…thank her? He won’t. Still, an answer…

“I appreciate your words.”

He doesn’t. Of course, he does not. Why should he?

He must be… exhausted and disgusted and the day has been too long. So what if she took his mind off of it for a few precious seconds? It does not matter. He does not care.

“It’s just the truth.” She smiles. “If I could just get half as strong as you are, I’m sure such an attack wouldn’t make me black out anymore!”

Wait, is she… Maybe not trying to distract him, but rather herself? “Are you feeling bad because you got knocked out?”

“What? I’m-, Of course not-, I wouldn’t—” She interrupts herself with a deep sigh. “Yeah. A little bit. I know that those guys played unfair, okay? It’s just… really, really stupid to be unconscious the whole fight.”

“Hm. I think I understand that.” He moves to finally move on again, and Pearl follows him eagerly. He wants this conversation to be over, of course, but since she needs someone to talk with her, and he is her best friend… Well, he can at least give her some advise for the future.

“Do you know what I would advise you in such situations?”

“Yeah, yeah” she groans and rolls her eyes, “Train more, become stronger, faster, better, yadda yadd—"

“No,” he cuts her off, and she stares at him, in obvious surprise. “If you find yourself against enemies that are stronger than you… play dirty.”

“… What.” She stares at him with wide eyes, then visibly shakes herself out of whatever stupor she just found herself in. “No, let me rephrase that question: What in the name of—"

“Language, Pearl. And I meant what I said, as I always do. Don’t-, Do not give your enemies as many turns as they would normally deserve. Attack from behind, use every little advantage you have against them, even if it would be considered dishonourable. If you throw sand into their eyes to blind them temporarily, so be it. If you hit them in the knees to make them fall, it is their fault for not paying enough attention. After all, a fight won without honour is still a fight you won.”

“… I’m pretty sure the guild wouldn’t agree with you, Darcy.” She doesn’t say that she would not agree with him, though. He takes that as a win.

“The same guild that takes 90% of our income? That is playing dirty, too. They do not need that much.”

Pearl sighs, and smiles. “Maybe you are right. Next time I’ll try, yeah?”

“I would not demand more of you.”

 

As they arrive at the guild, their topic of conversation has obviously shifted from ‘Darkrai teaching Pearl all the ways one can win a fight against much stronger enemies’ and Pearl taking notes on this, to something safer.

They make a detour to the ocean before this, of course – Darkrai can finally get the feeling off (or rather, weaken it to an bearable degree) and… it helps. Somewhat. He still wants this day to be over already, even if it means letting himself have another round of nightmares, but.. anything to finally get to the next day.

And sure, the seawater leaves some salt on his skin, which is uncomfortable in its own way, but still… better. Almost everything is better.

Besides, if he had to smell Pearl much longer, he would have attacked her, at some point. He can stomach many smells, but there comes a point at which he decides that pretending to be friends is just not worth it.

Chatot is already waiting for them and Darkrai happily hands over the apples. Too much ado about apples, in his opinion.

“Wonderful, just splendid!” Chatot crows, looking through the bag and ugh, his voice is grating on Darkrai’s ears. “But next time, only take the ripe apples, yes?”

Darkrai stares at the bag of apples. What is Chatot talking about? There are no unripe apples in it. He made sure of it.

“Uh, we thought they could ripen at the guild!” Pearl says, and what is she talking about? There are no unripe apples! The two of them are making fun of him, are they not? Ugh. This day is horrible. He knows how to tell unripe from ripe apples!

“Unfortunately, they never do,” Chatot answers, “But I do appreciate the sentiment. In any way, you two did a splendid job! That deserves a reward – for the rest of the day, you may do whatever you like!”

Wonderful. As if they do not get exactly the same reward every day they finish a job early—

Alright, that is not completely true. Sometimes if they return very early, they have to help with some of the miscellaneous tasks that accrue every day. Like plucking some of the overzealous flowers. Or dusting parts of the guild.

Therefore, as a habit, Pearl and Darcy will always only return after those tasks have already been taken care of by others.

So, admittedly, having some legal time of sounds good. Great, even. Unless four annoyances would force themselves into their room—

But no. Darkrai retreats to their room alone, since Pearl ran off in search of her other friends, and Darkrai just needs silence, for a while. Silence, and no one who could touch him. And for the next few hours, he actually… has that.

 

Much too soon, the afternoon has passed and dinnertime is soon to arrive. Pearl actually came to gather Darkrai, who had pretty much meditated, to follow her outside. She did not even speak much, which is… nice of her. Outside his room, the voices he could just barely make out before are now much too loud, but the time alone did help. A little.

Unfortunately, there is still one thing to take care of, that being Skuntank and his henchmen, of course.

Pearl and Darkrai did not end up telling Chatot about the attack. They had jointly decided on that after wagering the pros and cons, and coming up with many more cons. For one, Chatot tends not to want to believe them, and also, Darkrai might just have attacked Team Skull. Not unprompted, of course, but judging by Chatot’s behaviour last time he did so, when there were multiple eyewitnesses to back him up… Best to play it self. And even worse, what Darkrai has come to realize is that Skuntank is not entirely unskilled when it comes to spinning the truth into a tale painting himself in a marvellous light.

And Chatot seems much too willing to believe such tales.

Thus, another course of action seems to be necessary.

Shortly before dinnertime arrives, their three nemeses do too. Well, nemeses is quite a strong word, of course… But Darkrai is also very angry.

Pearl and he wait outside the dinner hall for them, just next to Wigglytuff’s office – the door is closed, luckily, but Wigglytuff is asleep, anyway. Faint snoring can be heard through the door. There, they wait to catch them before they have the chance to tell Chatot anything. And so that any unsolved tensions can be put to rest. Definitely.

“Good evening!” Pearl cries out as the three make their way down the ladder, drawing attention towards herself and Darkrai. There is a mocking smile on her face, and it is truly glorious. Because for anyone who does not know her, it would seem honest.

She would really make a great partner in crime.

Zubat visibly flinches in shock at her words, and Koffing lets out a faintly disgusting-smelling cloud.

Idiots.

“Good evening to you, too,” Skuntank answers, not yet acting on his very obvious anger. He has to hold back, because after all, there are a few more Pokémon in the hall. Further away, sure, but still there. The three idiots make their way over to Pearl and Darkrai. Skuntank wears a sneer on his face.

“It is quite convenient that you just arrived, Team Skull,” Darkrai starts, “There is a little something I would like to talk to you about.”

“Of course, we’d love to be of help.” The way Skuntank pronounces the ‘love’ makes it clear what he truly thinks about it.

Darkrai grins. “You know, my partner and I had a peaceful day today – we collected some Perfect Apples and were lucky enough not to run into any trouble.” He looks Skuntank directly in the eyes, trying to tell him that ‘One hand washes the other’. Or, well, one ghostly appendage washes the other’s paw.

“Oh, did you? That sounds great for you. My friends and I had a slightly more exhausting day. We were attacked by some Pokémon. Maybe we should tell Chatot about it, so that others do not get into danger.” Oh, and why should we not just tell that you attacked us?

“That sounds strenuous. Did you wander into a Dungeon that was not fit for you? As I said, the one we were in today was rather safe.” Because you were not where you were supposed to be and still, we did not tattle on you.

“Ah, something of the sort, I guess,” Skuntank admits, followed by a fake laugh. “But it’s no problem, next time we get in a similar situation, we’ll make sure to dispose of our attackers in a deserving kind.” We’ll keep silent, this time. Revenge is, however, already, in preparation.

“Then I wish you all the luck Jirachi could gift. Maybe it will help you.” Just you try.

And... that is the end of it, for today. Chimecho calls them for dinner, they part ways, and no more words are spoken for the remainder of the day. Pearl only whispers in his ear, wherever that may be, “That was so cool!” and then, the day finally ends.

Darkrai falls asleep easily, but does not stay so for very long. Caught up in his nightmares of touching, being touched, not being let go off, too close, everyone’s too close, his skin is crawling—

He wakes, again and again.

Darkrai does not sleep well, tonight.

Notes:

And this concludes the double update! I hope you enjoyed the chapters, and thank you for the new kudos!
The next chapter will be posted on the Kalends of March, I wish you all the best until then!

Edit Hiatus Note: (26.09.2022)
added a lil to character interactions – no world-changing-stuff, just things to make everything read more natural, and also tie in better with my later writing style
also added some more internalized, semi-hidden, self-hate on darkrai's part. oops.

Personal Note: wow this chapter really didn’t feel like I wrote it. like, I know that I wanted to move things forward, but so often, I would just skim over things so aggressively? like, miss one sentence and be confused where the story suddenly went. I tried to fix that up, at least a little, but there comes a point where you just need to accept that it is what it is.

Chapter 7: Overcrowded List, Lake shrouded in mist

Summary:

Last Chapter: After a rather unfortunate encounter with Koffing, Zubat and their leader, Skuntank, inside the guild, Pearl and Darkrai were grounded by Chatot. Through that, Darkrai found out that, apparently, some of the guild’s members think of him as a ‘friend’. Even worse, the three members of Team Skull became temporary members of the Wigglytuff guild soon after. But hey, at least least Darkrai had the chance to knock them out while on an assignment to gather some Perfect Apples for the guild’s larder.

Notes:

Something of a filler chapter, but then again, you do need to fill almost everything so that it works. Also, Darkrai's in a bad mood, but he's not gonna admit that.

“Hey, Darcy?”

For a second, he thinks of acting as if he did not hear her. But then, magnanimously, he decides against it. There is no reason to antagonize her, right now. “Yes?” he answers, no real emotion behind the word.

“What do you think our chances of joining the expedition are?” Pearl asks, no, let him correct himself, she finally asks. The question had been a long time coming, and witnessing Pearl deciding against asking it time and time again, because of whatever contrite reason she had come up with, got very, very annoying.

But today, she seems to finally have gathered enough courage.

How unfortunate, then, that the topic is just so very inane. Darkrai does not even want to answer! But alas, he has to, since he already ignored too many of her questions today. And while he can get away with acting as if he did not hear her in the first place a few times each day, too often will just make it seam like he is going deaf.

Well, the least he can do is to not look at her, as he answers. No, instead he stares at the food in his hands – it tastes somewhat dry, but it still beats the sour apple he had at breakfast today.

He bought the food – some type of pastry, most likely, he is no baker – from a Carracosta which recently opened a booth at Trash Town. And even if it is not perfect, he might buy there again. The guild’s diet is rather one sided, what with it always just being fruit, berries and occasionally, gummies. And sure, those are alright, but not all the time. His diet was more varied even when he—!

Well. It does not matter. Besides, it is still too early for the official dinner, anyways.

“Come on, don’t ignore me, that wasn’t a joke-question or anything!” Pearl speaks up, because apparently, he needed to long to answer for her tastes. So impatient. “I’m really wondering. I mean, we’ve been doing good with our jobs, right? So, they should have a reason to choose us! But, uh… maybe the others have been doing better…”

“I doubt it,” Darkrai answers honestly. “But I think it depends on who chooses the Pokémon to join. If it is Chatot, then we are not very likely to be chosen, I believe – in case you had not noticed, he does not like me very much—”

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you or anything, he’s just—”

“A biased, prejudiced Pokémon, yes. However—”

“That’s not what I was going to say!”

“However,” Darkrai repeats, not willing to let himself be interrupted, “If  Wigglytuff chooses, then really, anything could happen. He might just put all names into a hat and then draw three. I would not even put it past him to only choose one of the Perfect Apples he oh-so-loves as a travelling companion.”

“You can be really mean, do you know that, Darcy?” Pearl huffs, crossing her flippers. It does not help her look dignified in any way, seeing as she is sitting on a tree stump at a small clearing just to the north of Trash Town. Well, the clearing is not what makes her seem undignified, of course, and neither is the stump, but the entire gesture, paired with her small form… Well.

He sniffs. “I have been told before. As a matter of principle, I do not agree.”

Pearl pouts. Darkrai ignores her and instead continues to eat his meal.

“There’s also… Do you think Team Skull will try anything, soon?” Pearl uncrosses her arms. “Like, they always shoot us these angry glances at dinner or when we see them at the job board, but they haven’t done anything yet. But they are definitely planning something.”

“Of course they are planning something. All self-proclaimed villains are constantly planning something.” He is also planning something, but he is not a self-proclaimed villain. Oh no, he has been proclaimed so by many others, and as such, is more of an official, proper villain. Unfortunately, just as with the claim of him being mean, he disagrees with this assessment.

“Well, yeah, I got that far myself, you know? But, like, do you have any idea what they might be planning? Or when they want to get revenge?”

Darkrai shrugs. “Who am I to see into the minds of brutes?” He pauses for a short moment, and then adds, “If they even possess them.”

Pearl laughs, and then turns the sound into a fake cough. “That’s mean!”

“As mean as knocking you out in the Apple Woods? No? I did not think so.”

Pearl huffs. “Yeah, that was downright scummy. But still, do you have no idea? At all?”

Darkrai shakes his head, then, nods, deciding that he might have an inkling of an idea, after all. “Well, nothing specific. But it will most certainly involve violence, since they tend to believe that they are able to win in a fight against me-, us, for some peculiar reason.”

“Yeah…” Pearl sighs and then stares up at the sky, for whatever reason. Maybe she is trying to blind herself, who knows. Today, the sun is certainly blazing strong enough for it. One would not have been able to guess that, technically, autumn has already begun.

“In the end, only time will tell what they plan to do,” Darkrai ends his statement and eats the last bite of his pastry.

“Yeah… Unless more Time Gears get stolen and it stops!” Pearl adds, and then she laughs. Was that a joke? It must have been. She would not just remember something and not tell him, right?

Right. She trusts him. She must do so. So, a joke, then.

Apparently, she thinks that him not laughing means that her little joke was not appreciated.

“Not funny? Sorry… I don’t really know what’s okay to joke about and what’s not, yet.”

“It was alright. Do not say something like that in front of Chatot, though.”

“Do you think I want to die? I wouldn’t even think of doing so, don’t worry!”

 

“Hey, Darcy, if he takes even more time looking at that paper, we might have to steal a Time Gear,” Pearl whispers, carefully leaning towards Darkrai.

“What was that about you not wanting to die, yesterday?” he whispers back, raising an eyebrow. Not that she can see it.

“Well, he’s not listening, is he? Besides, everyone’s chatting, still, so—"

Chatot loudly clears his throat. Finally, the noise the guild’s members had been making dies down, but the excitement is still very palpable. Because of course, everyone wants to be chosen for the expedition – except for Darkrai, most likely.

And since today, they will set out, Chatot will finally read out the names of those joining the expedition, which Wigglytuff wrote out on a paper for him. If it had been Darkrai, planning this, he would have made sure to tell those coming along the day before they were to set out… but this is Wigglytuff’s guild. That Wigglytuff can even write is honestly surprising.

In any way, since he wrote a list means that Chatot will read it out loud, and since the bird just cleared his throat, he is very likely to do so—

 “Without further ado, I will announce those who’ve been chosen,” the bird cries.

-now. And just like that, he starts reading out the names.

“Our first member for the expedition will be… Loudred!”

While the Pokémon erupts in very, very loud cheers, Darkrai decides that he is now really hoping that he does not get chosen. No matter how many nightmares the guild’s members have, Loudred just seems to be getting louder with every day. Even worse, he shows a certain arrogance at being chosen first – claiming that it was only natural. As if he is that special.

(Please, the loudness of your voice is the only thing that sets you apart from the others in skill. Even Bidoof is probably a better explorer.)

“Then, next up, it’s Corpish!” Chatot calls, and to be entirely honest, Darkrai knows next to nothing about the Pokémon. He might as well deserve it. Or he might not. It is just a stupid excursion for even stupider Pokémon. There is no use in getting invested in it or analysing the choices in detail. Really, one year from now, he will most likely have taken his revenge, anyways, and then, he will not even need to remember this.

“Next is… Oh, what’s this?” Chatot seems surprised by whatever he just read, which gets ascertained when he exclaims, “Well, this is a surprise! Our next member is Bidoof!”

Well, this is certainly… a surprise, although Chatot phrasing it in such a way seems somewhat malicious to Darkrai. Impolite, at the very least. Should the bird not care much more for the emotions of the guild’s members? But then again, does Darkrai care about Bidoof’s feelings? Of course he does not. Besides, if Loudred was chosen, why not the other useless member of the guild?

Moreover, Darkrai cannot forget that it was Wigglytuff who made the list. Obviously, it is therefore going to be full of stupid decisions. If it had been him, there would have been much less Pokémon.

… He would just take Pearl with him. She is the only one not too bothersome. And maybe Dareios, if the other would be willing and allowed to join – he is not part of the guild, after all. Which is not really an excuse, seeing as Team Skull could join in, but who cares. Not Darkrai.

Bidoof tearing up at his selection is rather shameful, though.

“And the last ones on the list,” Chatot continues after Bidoof gets his emotions in check again – as much as he can, at least, “Are Sunflora and Chimecho! And there we have the expedition party members!”

…

That’s it…? Well. Darkrai does not want to go on the excursion, of course, but both Loudred and Bidoof being chosen over him? It leaves a strange taste in his mouth.

In front of him, Pearl visibly deflates. If there were not as many Pokémon here, he would tell her right now that he will just go to wherever the guild has chosen to go, just the two of them. That will be much more relaxing for him, and Pearl will think of him as a great friend, ensuring her happiness. Maybe he will mention it later, then.

“Chatot, you’re missing something!” Wigglytuff cries, which might be the first thing Darkrai has ever heard him say during a morning assembly.

“I-I am?” the bird asks in obvious shock, and then, mumbles, “Wait, what’s this?” as he turns the paper around. He clears his throat. “Erm… Well… It… It appears that there are even more expedition members. Which are… Diglett, Dugtrio, Croagunk, Duskull and Piplup.” He clears his throat again. “That is all.”

Silence.

“Wait, what?! Whaaat?!” Chatot shouts out loud, turning around to look at Wigglytuff. This once, Darkrai can agree with him.

That is just… the whole guild, is it not? Then why even write a list?! Ugh, he will never understand that wretched Wigglytuff.

Chatot, meanwhile, starts to have a meltdown over it. “But-But Guildmaster! The list includes… everyone!”

“Yup, that’s right! It’s much more fun like this!” Wigglytuff says, clapping his hands together in front of his chest.

“But then, the whole selection process was meaningless!” He flutters his wings in what seems to be agitation. “And moreover, if everyone goes on the excursion, the guild will be left empty!”

Wigglytuff, for once surprisingly present in mind, smiles benignly, and says, “It’ll be fine. We’ll lock up properly!”

… Which would still allow Pokémon with the ability to walk through walls to… well, do just that. Wigglytuff really is made up more of simple stupidity than coherent thoughts, is he not? Maybe Darkrai should sneak back in and look if there is anything worthwhile to steal – just to teach Wigglytuff a lesson, of course. And to steal, obviously.

“Guildmaster, I also have some misgivings,” Skuntank speaks up from where he and his companions stand, just a little off from the main group of Pokémon. What does that bothersome being want now? And why should Wigglytuff even listen? If Darkrai was the Guildmaster, well, he would not have allowed Skuntank and his cronies into his guild, in the first place. Unaware of Darkrai’s thought, Skuntank continues to speak. “Do you think that, perhaps, we may have too many members for an expedition?”

Sure, he is right, but Darkrai will not agree with him. So what if they will be more than a dozen Pokémon? That is none of Skuntank’s business.

“Hmm…” Wigglytuff hums, a curious tilt to his voice, “When a friend asks something like that, I have to wonder why…”

Darkrai is not completely sure, but it seems as if Wigglytuff is almost testing Skuntank. But that could not be… or could it? There is a reason why Wigglytuff is feared amongst outlaws, and it is not because he is simply bothersome. But… one can be strong in fight and weak in mind.

“I mean, first of all, why does everyone have to go? What’s the point in that?” Skuntank huffs, which leads to Wigglytuff suddenly brightening visibly.

“Of course there’s a point!” the pink Pokémon objects, “If everyone went, it would be more fun! We’ll be noisy and excited and having a great time! I started thinking about it, and it made me so excited, I couldn’t sleep!” His eyes have now reached a never before seen size – and really, how much of his body is made up of his eyes? Entirely too much, if one asks Darkrai.

Obviously, nobody asks for his opinion. As usual.

“But are all Pokémon here really suited for the expedition?” Skuntank tries… whatever. Darkrai does actually not know what, exactly, he is trying to achieve with this.

“Of course, because together, we’ll be strongest!” Wigglytuff beams. “And it will be fun, fun, fun!”

Around him, most of the guild’s members break out in cries of ‘Hooray’. Darkrai wishes he had no ears, or that he had gone deaf years ago.

Finally, as everyone grows quieter once again, Chatot takes the word. “Well… since that’s settled,” he sighs, “Everyone, please get prepared to embark on the expedition. Some of you might need to visit the town, so do that now, because in one hour, we will leave. And we won’t wait for any stragglers! So with that having been said, scram!” Chatot ends his short monologue with a crow.

Then, he turns around, and alongside Wigglytuff, the two of them head into his office – most likely to prepare, as well. Or perhaps, Wigglytuff plans on sleeping the hour away, and Chatot… has to read him a bedside story or something.

Team Skull, luckily, also disappear quite quickly. Most likely, they will be here again in time for the excursion. Unfortunately. Maybe Darkrai should… arrange for them to be unable to join in time. But Chatot’s threat was most likely empty, and then… Well, he does not want to get into too much trouble. Especially not for attacking some ‘fellow adventurers’.

He starts to make his way over to the exit, too, when suddenly, he feels someone pull on his bag. He turns around swiftly, prepared to attack whoever dared to—

It’s only Pearl. Of course it is only Pearl. Who else would it be, really?

“Uhhh…” she starts when he simply stares at her, “The others are forming a circle?”

Darkrai turns his stare from her to ‘the others’, and it turns out that Pearl was right – all of the guild’s members, save for Wigglytuff and Chatot, have arranged themselves in a big circle. Which, unfortunately, includes Pearl, and somehow, even Darkrai. Great. What is this about, does anyone have a birthday to celebrate or what? Will they now recite another cheer? Do they have an expedition cheer?! He hopes not.

“I could scream, I’m so happy,” Sunflora starts in a screechy voice, which really dissents her previous statement, “Everyone is going on the expedition!”

“Yes, our Guildmaster has done it again. I’m so shocked, I’m tingling,” Chimecho adds, and great, this is what they are about to do? Talk about their feelings? Splendid. Just… splendid. He could spend his time with so many more worthwhile endeavours, like trying to find the nearest cliff to jump from. That would be less painful than this.

Well, not today, he decides. He does not want this stupid bonding exercise. Absolutely not. And so, he just starts tuning everyone out.

Which works great! Until the moment that Bidoof starts sniffing, loudly. Is he about to cry? Oh, of course he is. Great. That was what was missing from this whole scene, was it not? Someone crying. Next thing, they will probably want to go in for a group hug.

If they actually try to do so, and try to force him into it, Darkrai will actually attack them.

He rolls his eye, assured that no one will be watching him, anyways.

“Is something wrong with Bidoof being happy, Duskull?” Dugtrio asks, and apparently, someone was watching. Someone who would not just interpret it as Darkrai… stretching his eye or something. Unfortunately.

“Of course not,” Darkrai answers, and then, before he can hold himself back, some words stumble out of his mouth, and while he agrees with them, saying so out loud was not the best idea, in hindsight. “I am simply annoyed at all of your inane, and, frankly, annoying blathering.”

As he admitted, maybe not the best idea.

At first, there is silence, and then—

“Darcy!” cries Pearl, and of course, she would. “That’s so mean!”

Backtrack, he needs to backtrack, right now. “It was meant as a joke. Although judging from your faces, not well-received…” He does not want to apologize! He should not have to apologize to them for simply telling the truth!

But he knows that if he does not, negative feelings will linger, and negative feelings often become physical attacks.

“Do forgive me,” he therefore states, which is the next-best-thing he can give them, and then, with a heavy sigh, adds, “I am just a little strung up… because I am not entirely happy, having Team Skull along for the expedition.”

Because shifting the focus on something everyone dislikes is always the best idea, if he gets in trouble. It is a tried and tested method, and even Cresselia occasionally falls for it, still.

As intended, his words successfully distract the guild’s members, as they give them a new topic to fixate on.

“Yeah, why did Chatot and the Guildmaster ever allow THEM to JOIN?” Loudred cries, which makes Sunflora try to shush him.

“Not so loud, you blockhead! They might hear you, and remember how the Guildmaster reacted last time?”

Everyone shudders.

“But still, letting those three join… they are just asking for trouble, hey hey!” Corpish concludes, and most other members nod along.

“As such, I would like to propose that all of us apprentices work as one,” Dugtrio speaks up, and Darkrai can feel his gaze on him, but ignores it, “We don’t know what they might be planning, so let’s make sure that for all of us, this expedition will be a success!”

“Yippee! That’s the spirit!” Sunflora shouts, and she is soon joined by everyone but Darkrai. Turns out that their expedition cheer is just shouting as loud as they can.

He hates this.

 

“Darrrcy! And Pearl, of course! Good to see the two of you in such good health.” And then, a snicker.

Darkrai groans on the inside. On the outside, he remains calm and greets back, “Hello, Cousin Dareios.”

“Good morning, Dareios!” Pearl smiles, not able to keep herself from jumping up and down.

“Going on the expedition?” Another snicker.

“Yeah! I’m really excited!”

“As if he could not tell,” Darkrai say, not bothering to hide his eyeroll. Dareios knows him, by now, and Pearl has also started to realize that he will get annoyed whenever she is behaving childishly.

And there it is, the ever-present snicker. “That mean tongue of yours, Darcy, never stopping in its tracks. But who am I to talk, right?” Dareios moves his eye in a way that could, perhaps, be considered a grin. “Anyways, do you want me to keep more of your money safe? Or do you… need other services?”

Darkrai sighs. Ever since getting Pearl and Dareios into his pranking-business, he has not known peace.

Pearl has truly proven herself as a prank-addict, and Dareios is doing nothing to stop her. If anything, he seems to love having a new partner in crime.

It is a little scary, really, how well the three of them work together. Pearl comes up with the ideas, Darkrai turns them into proper plans and Dareios stocks them up with whatever they need. Just three days ago, there were mushrooms growing all over the guild, courtesy of the three of them.

He will admit, it was funny.

Especially since Chatot almost had a seizure once he saw them and seems to be doubting Team Skull’s good intentions ever since then – after all, it happened conspicuously shortly after they joined their guild.

Maybe he should overthink the revenge he takes – Pearl and Dareios would make rather good henchmen. But Dareios’ intentions are always shrouded in mystery, therefore making him a very dangerous individual to trust with anything, and Pearl… well, she did ruin his plans, before. She really should be punished for that.

“Just the money, today,” Pearl sighs, dejectedly. “Since we’ll be leaving soon, there’s really no time for anything else.

“Ah yes, yes, of course. It will, of course, rest in peace with me. Forever, if you will.” He snickers.

It is always like this – Darkrai almost stops himself from snickering all the time, then he has to meet Dareios again, and he starts snickering again. Is there no end to his humiliation?

 

They are going to explore Fogbound Lake.

Fogbound Lake.

The same Fogbound Lake that Uxie resides at.

The same Uxie who hates Darkrai!

No, no, no, they can’t go there! Darkrai cannot do so! He cannot face Uxie! The other Legendary is going to see through his disguise in a matter of seconds, and then, he will reveal Darkrai’s true identity, making all of his hard work of endearing himself to Pearl and the rest of Trash Town have been for naught!

“Duskull, please open your map as well.” Chatot pulls him out of his panic attack – not panic attack. Merely… very fast thinking process about something that gives him slight distress.

“Of… Of course.” He does so. Was he asked to do it, before? He did not notice. Darn it, he cannot go there! Uxie is… Uxie will…

He takes a deep breath. Panicking won’t change anything. Not that he is panicking.

Chatot, unaware of Darkrai’s thoughts (as it should be) points out to all of them the position of the lake – although its existence continues to be unproven by common Pokémon. Which is, of course, what Wigglytuff and his merry band of idiots want to change.

Then, the bird indicates how they will travel (as if Darkrai doesn’t already know the best routes), and finally starts assigning groups, because apparently, travelling just in pairs is not save, and neither is a group of a dozen. As such, groups of three it is.

Well, mostly, the exception being Wigglytuff and Chatot, who will be travelling as a pair – much to Wigglytuff’s chagrin. He even calls Chatot a ‘Meanie’ for it, which appears to be a rather strong swear word for him.

But Darkrai, for once, sees the logic in this decision – not the one regarding Wigglytuff, but the grouping of three Pokémon. It will give the apprentices the chance to prove that they can navigate unknown terrain, but be more secure than have them in pairs or on their own, and will also reduce the size of a group which would only slow their travels down if they stayed together.

And it also spares Darkrai from having to engage with all but one other Pokémon, besides Pearl. Because, expectedly, the two of them end up together, and as the third Pokémon… Bidoof gets assigned to them.

Splendid. Wonderful. Great.

He would rather travel with Wigglytuff—

Actually, he would not. Bidoof is preferable because Bidoof is actually predictable.

“We’re in the same group!” Bidoof exclaims, and while he does sound happy enough, he also seems a little… apprehensive. Scared. Probably because of Darkrai, who has made it very clear that he does not care for the other, a message that Bidoof apparently finally understood. Good. Darkrai would not be satisfied if a useless Pokémon such as Bidoof started to like him.

“That’s really great!” Pearl answers and Darkrai barely holds himself back from rolling his eye. He already made the mistake of not doing so once, today. He will not repeat it.

“Yeah! I hope I can keep up with you, you two are so strong…”

“Of course I am,” Darkrai answers, and Pearl, the traitor that she is, exclaims, “Aw, you’re strong too, Bidoof!”

He is about to gag. These false compliments are getting on his nerves.

“So, that is all,” Chatot, thankfully, interrupts the two buffoons, “So let’s get to it and move out!”

Maybe, Darkrai surmises, it is good that he got assigned into the same group as Bidoof – since the young Pokémon is very afraid of him, he will at least keep out of Darkrai’s business.

 

He does not keep out of Darkrai’s business. Instead, he tries for some small talk. He also does not want to realize that Darkrai is unwilling to talk, even though he either ignores the other’s questions or answers in monosyllabic answers. No, Bidoof simply chatters on, unaware.

Luckily, Pearl does notices and starts answering in his stead, which leads to the two children talking merrily and Darkrai practically leading the expedition. Hours pass in that same manner.

He did not sign up for this!

(He kind of did, the annoying little voice tells him. He shushes it.)

Moreover, not only does he have to lead their group now, he is also still busy, fretting about his possible meeting with Uxie. Because meeting Uxie…

… Maybe, he won’t meet the other Legendary. After all, Chatot mentioned that, for them, common Pokémon they are, Fogbound Lake is a mystery and they are not sure if it even exists. This entire expedition is about finding the lake! Uxie is quite good at keeping it hidden. So, maybe, they will end up empty handed, and return to the guild without seeing Uxie?

But what if Wigglytuff had been there already and met Uxie? It would not be the first time he decided on a course of action because he knows that it will end with satisfaction.

Or perhaps, they might find the lake while Uxie is away on other business? Ways to hide the Time Gear located there exist, because no Pokémon can stay in the same place for centuries, unless asleep or imprisoned.

No Pokémon should have to stay in the same place for centuries.

But, well, even if someone tried to imprison Darkrai, they would have to catch him in the first place, which has never before happened.

… Wait, what was he thinking about?

Ah yes. Uxie. Possibly having to meet Uxie.

He shudders. As much as he wishes that the first or third option would happen, he fears that the second one might be the most probable. Especially with his luck (or, to be exact, the lack thereof).

What is much more pressing, though, is that Darkrai has finally had enough.

He had tried to be nice, or at least, amicable. But their small group has gotten turned around two times already by a wrong path, Darkrai is the only one seemingly trying to actually find the correct route, because his two… companions are too busy chattering with each other. And then, he snaps.

“Will you two just tone it down?!” There, he did not even tell them to shut up! He knows how to be polite!

(Because deep down, he knows that they are really not doing anything wrong.)

(As usual, he silences the part of himself which tells him so.)

“W-What?” Bidoof gasps, staring at him with wide eyes.

Pearl, unexpectedly, does not share that expression. No, instead, she narrows her eyes and folds her flippers in front of her chest. “We aren’t being loud, you know?”

“Yes, you are,” he hisses back, “You are giving me a headache.”

“Well, did you make sure you drank enough?”

“Of course I—, what?”

“Well, you always get headaches more easily when you don’t drink enough. Besides, it’s hot, so just drink something now.”

He huffs and stares down at her. “I am not thirsty.”

“I know,” she sighs, unfolding her arms. “But you still need to drink more often. So just drink a little bit, okay? And we’ll be quieter in turn, yeah?” With that, she turns around and continues to walk as if he never said anything in the first place.

Bidoof, after staring at Darkrai for a moment, gives a small squeak and then hurries after her, soon resuming their conversation. Darkrai acts as if he does not hear when they start theorizing if his nightmares have been worse than usual, leading to his ‘bad mood’. He is not in a bad mood, and his nightmares were of the usual kind.

But still…

Now that Pearl mentioned it, he notices that he did, indeed, not yet drink anything today. Which does not mean anything – he would not let his emotions be influenced by the lack of it. He is not so weak.

The budding headache does lessen after he puts the flask away. Probably because Pearl and Bidoof are not being so loud, anymore.

 

The sun, hard to make out through the fog permeating the air even here, almost an hour’s walk away from Fogbound Lake, is already setting when they finally arrive at the camp. It has been erected already, by those who arrived earlier. And although Darkrai will not admit it, he is suddenly almost glad that he took the wrong paths a few times, making the three of them need much longer for their travels than most others. Besides, Pearl and Bidoof constantly chatting left Darkrai to do most of the fighting, which also cost them some time. So really, he is not at fault, at all.

At least they are not the last ones to arrive. After everything which happened this morning (most importantly, Darkrai accidentally insulting the guild members to their faces), Darkrai would not ever have lived it down if his small group arrived last.

Fortunately for him, there is no forced interaction with any of the members, really, as Chatot leads them to one of the tents just after they arrive. Tents which are, very, very unfortunately in the shape of Wiggyltuff’s head. Whoever had the idea to do something like this? Why would anyone want to do something like this? Would it not be so much more complicated to create them in the likeness of the idiotic Pokémon? Would erecting them not be so much harder?

He decides that, once he has created his dark world, he will find out who had the idea and make them regret it.

But even though Darkrai does not have to interact with anymore guild members, the tents are unfortunately assigned to them for the previously assigned groups. Which is how Darkrai finds himself in the same tent as Bidoof. Listening to even more chatter from Pearl and Bidoof. Ugh, he just wants to sleep, nightmares be darned! But no, instead—

 “So, obviously I had to help them!” Bidoof boasts, a wide grin on his face. Does he believe his little story about helping a small family of Oddish impressive? It is not.

“I mean, who wouldn’t?” Pearl’s question is rhetorical, of course. Still, it somehow infuriates Darkrai

He blames his tiredness, as well as the two of them having annoyed him the entire day, already, for not being able to hold back his scathing answer. “Well, obviously I would not.”

“What?!” Bidoof cries out the same second that Pearl shouts, “Darcy!” in an affronted voice.

“What I said, Bidoof. I would not have helped them, as I think that, really, they brought that situation upon themselves. If they insisted on traversing the Dungeon, even if they knew that none of them were able to fight, it is their own fault for getting stuck. Nothing but their own ignorance was the reason for it.”

“But even then, at least they realized they were in over their heads!” Pearl objects, “They may have caused it, somewhat, but since they couldn’t help themselves anymore, lending them a hand is just natural!”

“Maybe for you,” he bites back, “Personally, I believe that if you help those that are responsible for their own misfortune, you only teach them to repeat what they did, because they never felt the consequences.”

“So you’d just, uh, leave them?” Bidoof asks, and oh, how brave. Not immediately yelping and quieting as soon as Darkrai speaks. The day spent together must have made him bold. Much too bold for Darkrai’s liking.

“Exactly,” he finally answers, making no effort to keep the vitriol out of his voice.

“That’s a very… depressing way to look at things,” Pearl sighs, and then, new vigour in her voice, says, “So, if, hypothetically, you were… in a similar situation—”

“I am not an Oddish, in case you had not noticed.”

“I said hypothetically! But have it your way, then, just imagine you were, uh, knocked out by a Pokémon that you knew was stronger, after you tried fighting it, knowing that—”

“I do not fight Pokémon that I know are stronger than me—”

“I said hypothetically! Geez, do you have no imagination or what? So, yeah, you’re now knocked out in the Dungeon, with no way out because you’re not an explorer, wouldn’t you want someone to save you?”

“Now, first of all, that will not happen to me. I am always prepared for the worst scenario,” At least he would be, if certain Pokémon did not decide to make it their calling to make it their job to stop his ‘evil deeds’, “But, in this very hypothetical situation – Of course I would want someone to get me out.”

She stares at him in apparent incomprehension. “But… But you said that you wouldn’t—“

“What did I say, exactly, Pearl?” He asks, and for a moment, he wonders why he is even having this conversation in the first place. He really should not be admitting to any of this, should he? No, he should be the good friend, who might be grouchy sometimes, but never evil.

But his emotions have decided to claim his mouth, and he feels them much too strongly to make them stop.

“That you… wouldn’t help them, if they brought the situation on themselves?” Pearl finally asks, trying to wrap her head around the lesson he might be trying to impart, or the anger he has to air.

“Exactly,” he easily agrees. “And now, you are asking if I’d want to be helped – and the answer is, obviously, yes.”

“But that… doesn’t make sense…?” Bidoof, once again, dares to speak up.

“Why?” he asks back, “Because I’m not following a silly ‘Golden Rule’?” He scoffs. “Just because I would not do the same for others does not mean that I do not want to reap the benefits of other’s friendliness.”

Bidoof and Pearl stare each other. Then, Pearl turns directly towards Darkrai and, looking him into the eye, in a very solemn voice, asks, “Who hurt you, Darcy?”

He huffs. “What are you talking about? Obviously, no one hurt me.” Where did she even get that idea from? “Just because I follow a slightly different moral compass than the two of you does not mean that I have a tragic past that you must understand to suddenly make me realize the fault of my previous ways. I like to stay alive, that is all.”

“You’re a ghost-type.”

“Alive-ish, then.” And he cannot believe that he just used such a childish word as ‘alive-ish’. He must be truly tired.

Pearl sighs. “Okay, let’s just agree to disagree? I don’t want an argument right now. And I know we kinda baited you, but you also-, No, forget it. As I said, I don’t want to argue.”

How great. He also does not want to argue.

“Accepted,” he therefore answers, “But only if you two finally go to sleep, properly.”

“Yeah, yeah, Grandpa needs his sleep--, Sorry, I’m sorry, okay? Bad comment. Let’s just… Sleep?”

He nods, not caring if they can see it in the dark, and then turns his back towards them. He could have done without the today he got.

Notes:

I had an exam today, and editing/rewriting on top of that got somewhat stressful. I therefore decided to cut the chapter here (also because if I did not, it would have 13.000+ words) and concentrate on making the other half much nicer for the next update.
Speaking of the next update, it will be on the Ides of March (15.03.2021)! Yay! Please do not stab me, though.
That said, thank you all once again for all the appreciation you give this story, and see you at the next update!

Edit Hiatus Update (02.10.2022):
Lol, me being concerned over a chapter having over 13.000 words. Past me was funny.
Also, I forgot to take notes of what I changed… oops. I do know that it wasn’t anything world-changing, though. Just the usual editing, updating my writing style where I could get away with it, and all that jazz.

Chapter 8: Know yourselfe

Summary:

Last chapter: After having chosen the entire guild as the members for an expedition to Fogbound Lake, Wigglytuff and everyone else made their way there. Darkrai was feeling rather stressed about the possible confrontation with Uxie, since the other resides exactly where the guild wants to go. After a day of behaving rather mean to everyone around him, Darkrai, Pearl and Bidoof reached their temporary camp.

Notes:

Regarding the chapter title: Just realized right now (25.12.2022) that the pun does not work in English, like, damn. So, since I am now attached to the title, and don't wanna change it, explanation for the pun: Uxie's German name is "Selfe". So the title was literally just a wordplay on Uxie's name, just that I did not notice that it is not a wordplay on Uxie's name in a language every reader understand.
Also, guess you now know my native language haha

Old Comment: I split the last chapter up because it was getting too long and then while editing the second half wrote another half chapter on top of it so its just a long chapter again now. Oops I guess.

The morning following the disastrous day travelling to the lake… Darkrai feels better. Definitely. Oh, he is still dreading the possibility that he will have to meet Uxie, and he is also still rather annoyed to wake up in the same tent as Bidoof, but yesterday…

He is not ashamed of it, per se, because the others deserved his scathing remarks, no doubt about that. No, what he is unhappy about is that he allowed himself to show them parts of his true self. The parts which do not care about others, which do not regard others’ feelings, which only want to take without ever giving.

Parts of him which no one likes.

(No one? the tiny voice asks, as if it is unto something.)

(No one, he answers, without quite understanding what it meant.)

All of this is not… how everything was supposed to go. He cannot have anyone realizing that he is not the one he is posing as. Who would ever like to have a ‘grouchy, cynical and just all around unpleasant Pokémon’ – as he has been described by Cresselia, because of course it would be her – around all the time? Nobody, of course. And that is even one of the kinder descriptions he had to listen to.

But he cannot have anyone see him like this. Which he will have to remind himself of more often, it seems. He may not be ‘Darcy’, but he needs to start acting more like him, again. In front of the town, in front of the guild, and most importantly, in front of Pearl.

Who he does not speak to, yet. In fact, he awoke earlier than her – as usual – and immediately left the tent, leaving both her and a snoring Bidoof behind.

Outside, it is an… adequate day. The fog that permeates all of the surroundings of Fogbound Lake dampens the sun’s shine, as well as the heat it would normally create.

It is not as if he hates warmth – in fact, he likes it more than coolth, but still, the coastal climate does not grant much diversity in summer, and that, he takes offense with. If he wanted the same weather every day, he could just go to the Dark Crater to live in, thank you very much.

Although the autumn storms have started, but stormy weather is not the same as comfortable temperatures.

In any way, having the morning almost to just himself – Chimecho is awake and about as well, as are Chatot and Dugtrio, but after exchanging short greetings, all of them leave him to his own devices – is nice. He wanders a little, stares at the things he can see through the fog, and just lets his thoughts wander aimlessly. They try to go to the Uxie-topic much too often, but he is an expert at silencing them.

Unfortunately, the time for Chatot’s briefing arrives much too fast, which is also when finally, everyone else wakes up (or is awoken) and finds their way to the central place around which the tents had been placed. Their chatter gets rid of whatever peaceful mood Darkrai had found himself in before.

This once, he pays attention to what Chatot has to say. Uxie is close, and every bit of information Darkrai can get to avoid running into him is information he needs to have.

“Now that everyone’s awake, we shall proceed with the exploration of Fogbound Lake! Somewhere within this forest, it is supposedly concealed, but so far that has been nothing more than a rumour…” Chatot trails off, letting the members come to their own conclusions. Unfortunately for them, Chatot is wrong. The lake is, technically speaking, not in the forest. It is therefore no surprise that it has not been found.

Chatot, disappointingly, ends up telling them very basic things – there is a forest, they think that Fogbound Lake is somewhere in the forest (what idiots they are), it hasn’t been discovered, yadda yadda. He pretty much repeats himself again and again. Why did Darkrai bother to listen to him, again?

However, at least for the others, it turns out to not be Chatot who says the most important thing, but rather Chimecho.

“Uh, may I?” she asks, and once Chatot has nodded, begins to talk, “While we were travelling, I heard about a certain legend from some of the locals. And, uh, according to it, Fogbound Lake is home to a Pokémon named Uxie.”

Immediately, Darkrai feel a shiver run down his spine. Where did she get this information from?! Or, rather, the locals she supposedly talked with?

Not knowing of his concerns, she continues, “And, from what I heard it is either exceedingly rare, or just a singular being.”

“Singular being,” Darkrai interjects – it might not be the smartest idea to show his knowledge of the topic so openly, but he cannot let any kind of misinformation about another Legendary remain. Noticing the glances now fixed on him, he continues, “It is… a singular being. A Legendary Pokémon. I know some things about them because… of a personal interest.”

That makes all of them nod, as if it is completely logical. Nitwits.

Chimecho continues, “So, from what I heard, Uxie can lock eyes with others and wipe their memories clean.”

It is a simple hunch which makes him look at Pearl, but he is glad that he did. The shock is obvious on her face, and it is clear that she must be thinking about her lost memories. He thinks about putting a calming hand on her shoulder, but remembers quickly enough that, no, touching others is disgusting. She has to deal with this on her own.

“So that is why, even if travellers were to happen upon Fogbound Lake, Uxie would wipe their memories of it, so that they couldn’t reveal its existence,” Chimecho ends her little story and, well, she is not wrong. But this, Darkrai will not share with the others.

“Golly, that’s a pretty hair-raising tale…” Bidoof whispers into the ensuing silence, which brings forth some more whispering. Darkrai ignores it and rather concentrates on Pearl. The shock has given way to another mien, one telling him that she is planning something. Something Darkrai will most definitely not be happy with.

“Ahem,” Chatot draws the attention back to himself, “You should realize that places of this sort can be expected to have a folktale or legend attached to them. It’s our job as explorers to find out if it is true or not.”

Should Darkrai say something? Something that might make them believe that there is no Uxie around?

“Well, it would not make much sense for Uxie to be here, now would it?” he decides on saying, which makes a few heads turn towards him.

“What do you mean, Duskull?” Chimecho asks him, looking truly nonplussed.

“What I said. Why would Uxie, one of the first Pokémon to exist, a Legendary Pokémon, remain here, at a lake that may or may not exist? What purpose would that serve?”

Oh, he knows the exact purpose, but since Darcy does not, he does not mention it. Because he is not stupid.

“Wait, what?” Bidoof exclaims, like the utter idiot he is, and Diglett asks, “So, is there an Uxie here now or not?”

Darkrai cannot help himself, he rolls his eye.

“Ahem!” Chatot once again clears his throat, trying to get the attention back. “Simply theorizing is not what we came here for! There are, of course, many question which have now presented themselves, and our guild has overcome difficult challenges and obstacles in the past, leading to successful explorations! This time, I believe, will be no different.”

Wigglytuff laughs. “That’s right! Don’t worry, everything will be alright! Let’s believe in success for this adventure, too, and let’s try! Let’s try!”

Ugh. He hates Wigglytuff. Why is he in his guild, again? When, just when, did his life go so wrong? When he tried to create his world of darkness by getting Temporal Tower to collapse? When he tried to end the world as it is a second time, in a way he cannot remember, currently? Was it any of his other past schemes? Was it him trying to endear himself to the newest hero?

Where, just where, did he go wrong?

Anyways, following Wigglytuff’s annoying exclamation, business proceeds – the usual teams find each other (so no Bidoof, thank Giratina) and get assigned different parts of the forest to explore (and to maybe find a way to get rid of the fog).

With that their assignment for the day, everyone is off.

Or at least everyone would be, if not for Pearl, who lingers behind, for some unknown reason.

He turns around. “Pearl?”

“Ah, sorry, sorry! I’m coming!” She does just that, and runs to his side, grinning. “Look!”

The next second, something is thrust in his face. He reels back. “What—?”

“It was lying next to the flower over there.” She points to the place she just came from, “And I don’t know, it looks kinda special? Do you know what it is?”

Upon closer inspections…

“Well, that is a stone,” he surmises.

Pearl groans. “I could’ve told you that as well! I could even tell you that it is red, you know? Which is totally not obvious.”

“I was not finished. It does look like a gemstone – and since it is red, it might even be a ruby. Which is quite strange, it is really quite big. Well, it could also be any number of other gemstones.” He is no expert when it comes to that topic. “It would be best if you gave it to me, so I can put it in the bag. We are most certainly taking it with us. Dareios should be able to tell us the specifics.”

“Great!” Pearl laughs. Darkrai is not sure why, but her laugh seems… not quite insincere, but also somewhat forced. Should he ask?

No, he decides. Their relationship is already quite close, he does not need to further it right now. And he could even claim to not have noticed her strange mood, anyways.

No more words spoken, they tread into the forest.

 

Pearl, ordinary Pokémon that she is – or well, actually not. Obviously, it is not ordinary to have been a human once. Still, the Piplup she became is perfectly ordinary… alright, thinking about the mysterious visions she has, perhaps not even that. So, maybe she is no ordinary Pokémon at all, but she is still more ordinary than Darkrai, and as such, she has great difficulties navigating through the foggy forest.

And Darkrai… well, he has to admit, even he has troubles with that task. At the beginning, the fog was there, but it was more of a thing that stopped one from seeing more than, at most, 100 metres ahead. But now, Darkrai can barely even see Pearl walking in front of him, with less than one metre between them. The forest is made up only of dark shapes, with lighter sections indicating where one might be able to pass without running headfirst into a tree.

Is this what nighttime looks like to non-nocturnal Pokémon? If so, Darkrai might have an inkling of understanding why they would not like to make use of those hours. But Uxie is not nocturnal, is he?

… Darkrai realizes that Uxie really must not care about visibility. At least not normal one. To him, fog or no fog must make no difference, neither must day and night, and as such, this defence is really quite well chosen. Then again, even if, on a personal level, Darkrai and Uxie might not get along, Darkrai can respect the other’s intelligence. As long as he does not use it to destroy Darkrai’s plans, at least.

“Darcy? Are you still there?” Pearl calls out to him, pulling him from his thoughts once again. Ever since the fog grew so very dense, she has made it a habit to call out to him every two or three minutes.

“Of course,” he answers, not even bothering to get annoyed by her question anymore. There is only so much energy he can spend on that every day.

“Great! Just checking in. But actually, is it just me or does it seem… brighter over there?” She points in one direction – and at least Darkrai can still see her flipper. He follows it and—

“Yes, over there it is most definitely much brighter. It may be the way out of the forest.”

“Then we should definitely go there, right? Wouldn’t want you walking through another tree on accident.”

“That most definitely did not happen.”

Pearl laughs. “Sure, whatever you say. Anyways, come on, I want to get out!” With these words, she hops forwards, and Darkrai can only follow with a heavy sigh. She is always so impulsive. What if that brightness is a trap? The chances are low, but not zero.

Luckily, it truly turns out to be their way out of the forest, and soon after, they find themselves at something akin to a clearing – it is, as always, hard to tell with the fog. At least there is a lack of trees, which does indicate it, or maybe something similar – although there might be bushes or perhaps riparian vegetation, judging by the rush of water he can hear. Waterfalls, most likely. Which must mean that Fogbound Lake is awfully close. Perhaps it is even above their heads, already. Darkrai stares up. He sees only fog.

“Hey, hey, Team Sky, over here!” A voice suddenly calls out to them – Darkrai needs a few seconds to match it to Corpish, and just a little longer to make him out through the fog. He looks like yet another dark shape, of which Darkrai has seen more than enough today, and at first even mistook him as one of the surrounding bushes. It is somewhat impressive that Corpish managed to make Pearl and him out over this distance.

Pearl skips ahead in Corpish’ direction, and Darkrai follows. As usual.

Once they are close enough to see each other’s faces, Corpish asks, “You two find any clues?”, his tone indicating that he has not.

Pearl sighs. “Not yet. I mean, we found you, but that’s just because you are bright red. Anyways, you?”

“Yeah, nothing either. Kinda wish I could dig through the earth like Dugtrio and Diglett, then I wouldn’t have to deal with all this fog.” He laughs. “Don’t let it get you down, though. These things take time! Besides, there is something that’s kind of interesting here, look.” With that, he walks just a little bit away and Pearl and Darkrai have no chance but to follow him to what seems to be… a huge stone?

As they get closer, Darkrai realizes that it is… well, it is a huge stone, but as it turns out, that huge stone is a statue. A statue of Groudon, it seems, slanted from its previous upward position and now instead leaning towards the ground, perhaps three or four metres of height when counted together with its pedestal.

Since when has that been here? He would certainly remember if he had seen it on his last visit. And for what reason was it erected? As far as he knows, Uxie and Groudon are not particularly close. That could have changed over the last few centuries, of course… But knowing them, it is unlikely.

“Seems like a statue, doesn’t it?” Corpish speaks up, and well, what else would it be?

… Well, it might also be a rock-type disguising itself, that is true. Not that Corpish thought of that possibility, Darkrai is sure.

“Yeah,” Pearl is the one to answer, “But definitely not one I have seen before.”

“That is Groudon,” Darkrai says, “And before you ask, it is a Legendary and has dominion over the lithosphere.”

Pearl and Corpish stare at him. “The…” Corpish begins and Pearl finishes, “… what?”

Well, it was too much anyways to expect them to know. “Simplified, the land. Or continents, whatever is most understandable to you.”

The two other share a gaze that Darkrai cannot read, and then, Pearl shrugs.

“So that’s actually how it’s supposed to look? I’ve heard stories, of course, but they don’t come with pictures, hey hey,” Corpish explains, looking at the statue with new vigour. Pearl joins him in this task. Darkrai remains where he is, still trying to figure out the mystery of this statue’s existence, when Pearl calls over to him.

“Darcy, look, over here!” She jumps up and down at the side of the statue, “There’s something written here, but I can’t read it!”

“You can’t?” Corpish, who walked into position right next to her, answers, seeming aghast. “But it’s just footprint runes…?”

Pearl laughs nervously. “Well, uh, I was very bad at school?”

Corpish simply shakes his head, murmuring something along the lines of, “Kid’s today.” Then, loud enough to be heard by everyone, he makes it his task to read out loud what is inscribed. “Well, written here is, ‘Reignite the life that burned within Groudon’, hey, Duskull, you were right!, anyways, ‘Then the sky shall blaze with the sun’s heat. The path to treasure shall be revealed.’” He pauses for a moment. “Huh, that sounds… interesting.”

“A mystery!” Pearl squeals in delight.

A mystery, indeed. Even for Darkrai, but not the same one as for the others, at all. It is clear that, since his last visit, Uxie must have come up with new defences for his lake – because Uxie would not just leave a statue like this lying around here, if it was not. But what use would it be?

Pearl and Corpish, meanwhile, try to come up with a solution to the obvious puzzle the inscription is.

“Darcy?” Pearl finally asks, and after he looks at her to show that he is listening, she continues, “It’s just an idea, because, really, it would be super random, but you remember that red stone we picked up? Like, it felt warm when I touched it, and it’s red, which makes me think of the sun… you think that might be the solution?”

He hums, noncommittally. It might be, but then, why would it just be lying next to some flowers? And what will it do?

‘The sky shall blaze with the sun’s heat, way to treasure will be revealed,’ he remembers. It certainly sounds like something Uxie would come up with, he’s always been fond of rhymed riddles.

Might the statue get rid of the fog? This sounds most likely, but why would Uxie want to get rid of the fog? It is what has kept the lake undiscovered for centuries.

Then, Darkrai has an idea. Maybe, it is Uxie’s way of keeping track of whoever comes here – once the fog disappears, due to some overeager explorers, Uxie will know that someone is on their way, giving him time to prepare for erasing their memories of it. Actually, that makes quite a lot of sense.

It also raises the question, does he truly want to alert Uxie? The answer is clear - he would rather not. But Darcy the Duskull, of course, doesn’t know anything, so… there is no good reason to keep the stone to himself. Especially since Pearl now spoke of it out loud, in front of Corpish, which means that soon enough, the entire guild will know of its existence. Which means that selling it will become impossible, because Chatot will most likely take it from them.

So, really, it is much more of a question of, ‘Does Darkrai want Uxie to know that there are adventurers looking for the lake, or does he want Chatot to have the stone?’

“Here you go,” he says as he hands the stone to Pearl. She takes it with a grin, then stares at the statue.

“So, uh… now what?”

“If I were to guess,” Darkrai starts, “There must be a place where the stone can be inserted. It is always like this with mysterious stones and statues.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense!” Pearl grins. Corpish nods sagely, as if anyone would ever believe him that he came to the same conclusion.

“So we just gotta find it.” Pearl takes a step to the statue, and then another, seemingly intent on climbing it. “I’ll just try to—”

Before Pearl can finish her sentence, she stumbles back, clutching her head. She couldn’t have hit it just now, could she? No, but then—

This must be another vision, Darkrai realizes. He steps a little closer, but as quickly as the vision seemed to have come, it ends. Pearl groans, lets go of her head and shakes herself. Finally, she takes a deep breath.

“So, the good news is,” she tells them, “I now know that the stone is called the Drought Stone. And that it’s supposed to go where Groudon’s heart is.”

“Which makes sense,” Darkrai agrees.

“So… should I just put it there? Like, its heart is where a heart is supposed to be, yeah?”

He wishes she would not but… he nods. Better than Chatot having it.

With a click, the stone is inserted into the statue. The effect is immediate, as the statue’s eyes come alight and the ground starts to tremble. Pearl tumbles off the statue, and then, there is a bright flash of light, almost an imitation of the attack Sunny Day.

Darn it, Darkrai’s eye is sensitive! He might go blind from this!

As he carefully opens and squints his eyes, it turns out that he has not gone blind – although he will definitely need some time to adjust to the bright sunlight now enveloping the entire area. He blinks to get rid of the afterimage of the bright light, but it does little to help. Spots continue to dance in his vision.

He somewhat wishes for the fog to return.

“Look! Darcy, Corpish, look!” Pearl cries, waving her arm into the direction of Fogbound Lake, which has now become visible. At least Darkrai assumes as much. At the moment, most of his vision still consists of bright spots.

“Huh,” Corpish huffs, “Like this, it’s actually not surprising that Fogbound Lake evaded discovery for all this time.”

Finally, Darkrai can start to make things out again. Both Pearl and Corpish stare at the lake – or rather, the immense plateau on which it is situated.

A plateau which defies all reason or logic, and multiple laws of physics as well. It just makes no sense for a plateau’s base to be much smaller than what it is holding, is it not? In fact, it would look much more believable if it was simply a floating island, as they do sometimes exist (also defying the laws of physics).

But then, the water needs to somehow get… up there, so it can return to the ground as the multiple waterfalls that… well, exist. It does look very stylish, Darkrai will grant Uxie that. Not that he had ever admitted so out loud. No, he much preferred to call the plateau a grail, when Uxie could hear him.

For a while, all of them are silent, just staring at the plateau and its many waterfalls, until finally, Corpish breaks the silence.

“Hey hey, this is certainly no time to be gawking! We will need to let the guild know – you know what, I’ll go and fetch them, and you two have a look around, see if you can’t find anything else, hey hey!”

“Like a way to get to the top?” Pearl wagers. Corpish nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah! Anyways, I’ll be back soon!” And with that, Corpish has turned around and run away.

That was… a fast decision. The other Pokémon probably wants to make sure that he gets most of the glory or something. Not that Darkrai cares about such things. No, he is just glad to have lost that idiotic third men, meaning that now, he can ask Pearl…

“You had a vision when you touched the statue, correct?”

“Oh! Yeah, you noticed?”

“Of course I did. I do know you by now.” After a moment’s thought, he adds, “It is also quite obvious, to be honest.”

“Yeah, guess that makes sense,” Pearl agrees. “But yeah, as you said, I had one – actually two, but they were really close together, so, uh, yeah. I only heard a voice, talking to someone else about the statue though, so, I don’t really know what to make of that?”

Darkrai sighs. “How often do I have to tell you, do not phrase your statements as questions.”

“Yeah, sorry, sorry, grandpa.”

“I am not your nor anyone’s grandfather.”

“Whatever you say, gramps.”

He huffs. Best to just ignore it. Teasing the other is a sign of friendship, correct?

“In any way, another question – you truly want to search out Uxie, do you not?”

(Just say no, just say no, come on, say no, just no--)

“Absolutely,” she says, accompanied by a self-assured nod. “It’s.. It’s just a hunch, and maybe I should have told you earlier, but…” She stares up at the plateau and its many waterfalls again, “But I am absolutely sure that I have been here before. And if there’s really a Pokémon up there that can erase memories…” She trails off and instead starts wringing her hands, everything having been explained already.

Darkrai sighs. Well. It seems that he will simply have to hope that Uxie won’t be interested in a common Duskull. Or won’t attack Darkrai on sight for… well, the second-to-last time they met. Last time was alright, at least after Darkrai fled.

… He really should not agree to this. He should not even think of agreeing to this. Uxie generally does not hold much of a grudge, but Darkrai has always been the exception to rules like this. Although Uxie did kind-of attack him last time they met, so technically, he should not be out for revenge, anymore. He already took it. Mostly.

…Would have gotten it, if Darkrai had not fled in time.

“I get why you don’t want to meet him,” Pearl says, and she really does not, “Because let me tell you, having none of your memories before a certain point really sucks, and I would not wish that on anyone, but… Please. I need to ask him if it was… If it was him. And if he could maybe… restore them.”

Ugh, now she is forcing on him a moral dilemma! Because as Darkrai, he really, really does not want to even chance Uxie seeing him. But as Darcy, he needs to be a good friend and agree to it!

“Just… please.” The broken tone in her voice is what does him in. If he did not indulge her right now, she would lose her trust in him, definitely! He does not have a choice at all!

He sighs heavily. “Alright.” Then, he warns, “But we will proceed with the utmost care—"

“Hold it!” a voice suddenly interrupts him. A voice that, most definitely, belongs to Koffing.

Oh, come on! Darkrai already has enough trouble thinking about his impending demise, he cannot deal with those idiots now.

Besides, what kind of timing is this? Did they… overhear Pearl’ and his conversation, waiting until they found a good moment to insert themselves into the conversation? No, they could not—

They do not know. Darkrai is sure of that, if only to calm himself.

As such, he stares with a cold gaze as the three idiots make their way over towards Pearl and him.

“You again! What do you want?” Pearl growls. What a good little henchman, she knows who to hate.

“Good job, you two, for getting rid of all the fog.” Skuntank smiles, not an ounce within him meaning it. “Now, if you would be so nice to let us get to the treasure at the lake first, we won’t have to fight you at all.”

“Do we really have to do all of this again? Do you brutes really like being beaten up that much?” Darkrai asks them, letting his full frustration with the whole expedition become apparent through it. If he was in his original form right now, he would most likely create the illusion of shadows writhing, circling, preparing to attack…

But unfortunately, he is not, and his words and tone of voice have to be enough.

“That was luck!” Zubat shouts in indignation.

“You weren’t even awake to see what happened the second time!” Pearl cries back, putting her flippers on her hips.

The bat starts to splutter. “W-Well, I… You… You… You weren’t! Either!”

“Ah yes, speaking of the second time,…” Skuntank drawls, “Say, how, exactly, did you knock us out, Duskull? My partners and I researched, but you Duskull are not able to learn Hypnosis or Nightmare. So how, dearest Duskull, did you manage to put us to sleep and give us bad dreams?”

No, no, no! Come on, his plans cannot fall apart before he even runs into Uxie! Especially not because of three wannabee-bad-guys! That is just not fair!

“Oh? How smart of you,” he calmly answers, his exterior not betraying any of his thoughts. Words are his best weapons. Always have been. He can resolve this with words. “But I really do not see the need to answer your questions after my partner and I magnanimously did not report your attack on us.”

Skuntank sneers. “To safe yourself, isn’t that right? Whatever gives you the ability to use these two attacks, you need to hide it.”

Darkrai sneers right back. He should have killed them when he had the chance. “And once again, you and your team prove that one does not, in fact, need a functioning brain to be able to be alive. Never fret, though, I can take care of the second part for you.”

“And once again,” Skuntank parrots, probably not able to think of anything himself, “You are threatening us. If you’re not forthcoming with the information, I bet your Guildmaster would be happy to be told—“

Before he can end his sentence, he is interrupted by someone shouting. “Wait! Wait for me!” This voice, coming closer, it cannot be anyone but…

“Perfect Apple! Perfect Apple!” Yes, that singsong voice that only talks in nonsense, it must be…

Wigglytuff runs after an apple that rolled just between Skuntank and Darkrai. Before, Darkrai was questioning the timing of Team Skull arriving. But Wigglytuff just now… that is just… Ugh. This day is turning out to be very annoying. And he has not even met Uxie, yet.

“I finally caught you! My Perfect Apple!” Wigglytuff laughs, and then, ignoring the audience entirely, starts to sniffle, ”If my Perfect Apple went away, I would… I would…”

Bawl like a newly hatched Pokémon, most likely.

Finally, he seems to notice the other Pokémon gathered around. Or at least he acts as though he does.

“Oh, you two!” he states, smiling at Pearl and Darkrai, “And my friends, too!” he adds, looking at Team Skull. “Everyone’s all together, yay!”

Friends? Team Skull, his friends? He really is a hopeless case – even more hopeless than Mew, and that is saying something. She trusts basically everyone. Even Darkrai.

Skuntank, caught off guard, stutters, “G-Guildmaster… Wh-what are you doing here?” Just a few seconds before, he was threatening Darkrai with telling Wiggyltuff about Darkrai’s ‘strange’ abilities, and now, it has become very obvious that it was a mere bluff.

It’s the wrong question, as Wigglytuff just starts babbling about how he was chasing his Perfect Apple. “I was taking a walk in the forest, and then, my Perfect Apple went rolling, so I ran after it, and ran, and…” He just talks on, and on, and on.

Can this not all be over already? Darkrai just wants to take his revenge and then… relax in his world of darkness. Why does that have to include so much dealing with Wigglytuff? Why does it mean that he has to deal with Team Skull? Why does he have to face Uxie, very soon?!

Suddenly seeming to remember something, with a soft exclamation of “Oh, yes!” Wigglytuff turns toward Pearl and Darkrai. “You two shouldn’t be dawdling here, should you?”

They were not dawdling! They were trying to stop themselves from murdering Team Skull once and for all!

“You two have a job to do, don’t you?” Wigglytuff continues, not even having waited for their answer and instead continues in a sing-song voice, “To explore the forest, right? Go on then, off you go.”

Always so patronising!

But this once… Darkrai will accept the chance to bail—

Not bail. He does not bail. He tactically retreats.

Because even if Skuntank threatened it, he and his cronies cannot tell Wigglytuff what happened without getting into worse trouble, so, truly, leaving is the best thing to do right now. Besides, would Wigglytuff even have the intelligence to understand them? Or would he even want to believe that some members of his guild would do what Darkrai did? Most likely, no.

He throws a gaze towards Pearl. She seems caught, not knowing how to proceed. But once Darkrai catches her gaze, she sighs heavily and shrugs. None of them truly want to search out conflict, right now.

And so, finally, he answers, “… Alright.”

That is, apparently, the end of this useless confrontation. They leave to the cheerful voice of the pink Pokémon, singing a rather off-tune song, which luckily gets fainter and fainter with every step they take. Neither Skuntank nor any of his cronies make an attempt to stop them.

“That… was strange,” Pearl adequately summarizes, once they are definitely out of reach of Wigglytuff.

Darkrai hums, not in the mood to formulate a proper answer. Today is not a good day, and most of his energy is gone. The parts which have remained is much too angry to be of any use.

They continue on their way in silence, until they find a great fissure at the base of the plateau, which, if Darkrai remembers correctly (which he naturally does) is the way up towards the lake. Once again cursing his bad luck – he does not want to meet Uxie, darn it! – Darkrai steps into it, Pearl closely on his heels.

The way up towards the lake, of course, weaves through a Mystery Dungeon, and while it does have its share of moderately-strong feral Pokémon, it is not a hard one, what with them being mostly fire-types. Pearl takes care of most of them, and Darkrai of the rest. Again and again, Darkrai thinks about letting one of the feral Pokémon get a hit in, act like he is about to collapse and stop the mission like that, but…

That would mean getting stuck in the Dungeon until help arrives. It would also mean degrading himself.

In the end, he decides against it. He will just have to hope that they… do not meet Uxie. Or that, if they do, Uxie does not realize who Darkrai truly is. But with him being the Legendary of Knowledge, that chance is… slim.

Darkrai is still not sure what he should do, if Uxie realizes the truth. Hope that the other does not mention it? No, Uxie would most definitely do so. Hope that he does not mention where Pearl can hear? …That could work, but nothing ensures it.

But what if  Uxie mentions it before Pearl? What should Darkrai do then?

… He does not know. Thinking about it does not yield any answers, and only makes his chest feel too tight. And so, he decides to ignore the question. And if he attacks the feral Pokémon inside the Dungeon with a little too much aggression? Just the aftereffect of having met Skuntank and his cronies.

Clearing his head of thoughts about Uxie gets much easier once a Pokémon’s loud cry starts ringing through the entire Dungeon. It does not happen in regular intervals, proving that it must be an actual Pokémon, and not an illusion someone (Uxie) created. Although making the noises occur irregularly would certainly be possible… But no, that would be much harder.

So a real Pokémon. And judging by the loudness of its cries, even from however far away it is, a big one. Darkrai feels as if he had heard that cry before, no matter how much he tries, he just cannot place it. Although, the more often he hears it, he is positive that he has heard it before.

It worries him. A Pokémon whose growl can be heard through an entire Dungeon must be strong, but what strong Pokémon would make its home here? What Pokémon would Uxie allow to make its home here? Probably only one very strong and intent on protecting the lake.

“You really do not want to turn around?” he finally ends up asking Pearl, because, well, he definitely wants to.

“What, did you suddenly get weak knees?” she snaps back – or maybe that’s… friendly unfriendliness? Banter? Having a friend—

Pretending to have a friend is exhausting. He does not understand all implications, darn it.

“Of course not,” he opts to answer, “Besides, I do not have knees, anyways.”

He thinks. He could have. He can certainly bend his legs, whenever they are there. Hm.

“Great.” She throws him a smile. “Because neither do I.”

“… You do have knees, Pearl.”

“I don’t! Look at how short my legs are!” To prove her point, she raises one of her feet towards his direction, completely ignoring the feral Magmar, which now watches them in confusion.

“Pearl, you have knees. They are hidden further up, somewhere around your belly region.” He has seen a few Piplup-Skeletons, before. They look rather strange.

“What?! But I thought… Well, inconspicuous change of topic! I don’t want to turn around, because… I’ve been here before, Darcy. I’m sure. And if there’s… Well, I guess you know it. I just want to know who I was before. So… So I can’t turn around, even if I want to.”

He sighs. He figured as much. “Alright. Then lead the way.”

And onwards they go, the sound of roaring never stopping for long.

 

A Drought Stone! How could he forget?!

He had heard Pearl state its name as such, but did not make the connection! No, he was too caught up thinking about Uxie, when in reality, he should have been worrying about someone much worse! If he had realized it sooner, he would have never let Pearl drag him up here! But now he stands here, not quite able to stop himself from shaking – because wherever a Drought Stone is, Groudon is generally not far away.

Nevermind that it has absolutely no reason to be here, at the end of the Dungeon, just before the proper entrance to Fogbound Lake, a narrowing crevice. Is… was the statue a hint to his presence? Was Uxie trying to keep Pokémon away by getting Groudon’s help?

At least he now knows who caused all that ruckus he could hear even in the Dungeon.

Not that this matters right now! What matters is that it is definitely time to flee! Darkrai doesn’t battle Pokémon that are stronger than him, and Groudon definitely, one hundred percent, not even the tiniest doubt, belongs in that category!

“What- What Pokémon is that?! It can’t be—” Pearl shrieks, panicked, and hey, their survival chances may just have risen – if they flee right about now! Darkrai would turn around, but that means baring his back towards Groudon – which would be a very bad idea.

“YOU! HAVE YOU COME TO DESECRATE THIS PLACE?”

His ears, his poor ears, have mercy on his ears! Why do all overgrown lizards always insist on shouting all the time?!

“DEPART NOW!”

He needs to run away, and-, wait, Groudon’s giving them the chance to back out?

Groudon is giving them a chance to back out! He won’t let that go to waste! Roughly grabbing Pearl by her flipper, he starts tries dragging her away, saying, “Of course! We were just about—”

Pearl, leaning against his pull, interrupts him to address Groudon. “But we want to go to Fogbound Lake! We need to, please!”

She wants to die. She really wants to die! Oh dear whoever-will-hear-him, she wants to die and is intent on taking Darkrai along into her early grave! He is only several millennia old, he cannot die here! He is about to let go of her flipper again, when the other Legendary speaks up again.

“I AM THE GUARDIAN OF FOGBOUND LAKE! I AM GROUDON!”

What. No. No, that it is most definitely not. He halts in his movements, and then, Darkrai’s mouth runs awry before he can stop it. “I am rather sure that the guardian was Uxie.” And you know, that would not even be the worst thing to say, if he could have just gotten his mouth to stop right there. But he does not. “You have no reason to be here… Really, what are you even doing here, you overgrown lizard?”

… He will die.

“YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE HERE ALIVE, INTRUDERS!”

He is going to die! Right now! Goodbye, world, you will never know the beauty of being submerged in Darkness!

Groudon turns to attack, and Darkrai, at the same moment, turns around to start his escape, finally letting go of Pearl. He can make it as long as the attack does not hit him! Screw this plan, let her kill herself by not moving quickly enough!

He has made it almost five, perhaps six steps, when he hears Pearl scream a, “Take this!” and as he turns around in horror – why is she not fleeing, she needs to survive, or else time will be changed and Darkrai will-will die or something – he sees her attack Groudon – Groudon! – with an attack of Bubble. Bubble!

The panic which rose through his chest finally bursts free, and that is the only reason reason he can think of after as to why he attacks Groudon, as well. Maybe it was to buy time. Maybe it was to make it harder for Pearl and him to get hit by whatever Groudon will do in return. Maybe it was so that Groudon will get angry enough to kill him quickly and painlessly.

He never quite figures it out, but in any way, he attacks with Ominous Wind, starts turning around to continue his flight, and—

And then, Groudon falls to the ground. Defeated.

Defeated?

That… That does not make any sense. None at all. Darkrai knows for a fact that Groudon is stronger than him!

He has made a list of all Pokémon that are stronger than him! Groudon is one of the highest ranking ones! This… This is not logical, in any sense!

But there he is, just fallen over, lying flattened on the ground. Sure, if Darkrai had used Dark Void, that would make sense, but… but he did not! None of this makes sense. Not Groudon being here in the first place, not him guarding the lake in Uxie’s stead, not Pearl and Darkrai knocking him out with just two attacks. And yet, all of it happened.

Giving the fallen Pokémon a wide berth, Darkrai floats to Pearl’s side again.

“We did it!” Pearl cries out, accompanied by a jump. Darkrai does not know what to say. It… It just does not make any sense. Groudon should be much stronger than that!

“Are you suicidal?” he chastises, when nothing else comes to mind to tell her.

“I… what?” She stares at him, confusion obvious.

Darkrai scoffs and looks ahead at Groudon, ensuring that he will not stand up again. He does not. Instead, in a burst of light, he disappears.

Jumping in surprise, Darkrai feels anger well up within him, feels his confusion become fury. This… all of this is wrong!

“Alright, what is going on here?! This could not have been Groudon!” he shouts at no one in particular.

He has had it up to here! First he has to go on this stupid excursion and deal with inconsiderate, idiotic, inferior and imbecile Pokémon for hours, then that stupid Team Skull tries to intimidate him, and then Wigglytuff comes, annoys everyone present, and now Groudon just disappears after being knocked out much too easily, after being in a place it should never have been?! That is enough!

“That Groudon was nothing more than an illusion that I conjured,” a voice explains, resounding from… he does not know where, exactly. Which would most likely be because whoever spoke was using an illusion.

Wait, an illusion…? Of course, that explains it! He should have realized sooner – but perhaps the thing with having your own, active illusion is that it becomes much harder to tell when others are using them. Moreover, it was an illusion of impressive scale – something Darkrai certainly could never manage, not even in his true form.

And armed with that knowledge,… Sure, he may not know where the voice came from, but he most definitely knows the voice’s owner.

He sighs in exasperation, and then, in the most commanding tone he can currently muster, enunciates, “Show yourself, Uxie.”

There is a heavy pause, which Darkrai uses to ignore Pearl’s confused gaze. Finally, Uxie, still hidden, answers, “I cannot allow you to pass.” The words sound almost petulant.

Well, Darkrai does not care to object. In fact, if Uxie himself tells Pearl and him to go away, then Pearl will have to accept that, right? So, really, Uxie not wanting them to pass is in his interest.

But at the same time as he states, “Then do not let us pass, I do not care,” Pearl tries to appeal to the voice, crying, “Wait, please! We don’t want to cause any trouble, we just have some questions we need to ask you!”

More silence. Darkrai stares at Pearl, who sends him a nasty glare back. Ugh, why does she just not prefer staying alive, as he does?!

“I… could not listen to both of you at the same time,” Uxie admits.

Darkrai cries a single tear within his soul as he realizes that he will have to engage with Uxie, because Pearl would not forgive him if he just turned around now. Why is it just so exhausting to be someone’s friend? Why does it come with so many emotional chores? He should have run away from the Illusion-Groudon more quickly, waited at the foot of the plateau, claimed that he did not want to die alongside Pearl. But no. No, she would not have forgiven him for that, just as she would not forgive him if he turned against her now.

Finally accepting his fate, he states, “We need information. We are not interested in doing anything else.”

“Information?”

“Yes, information. Or, well, my partner does.”

Pearl’s glare changes to a grin. There. He can act like a good friend.

Uxie stays silent for a very long time – perhaps even two or three minutes. It feels longer, what with no one daring to say anything.

“… Alright.” And finally, with the word spoken, Uxie takes on form in front of them, completely dispelling the illusion he had created.

“Let me welcome you, then. I am Uxie, the guardian of Fogbound Lake. But you,” he turns directly towards Darkrai, “Already knew that.”

Well, so what if he did? He simply stares back at Uxie, not answering the unasked question of ‘How did you know?’.

This is one of his tactics for not getting caught in lies – if he does not answer the question, he cannot be accused of lying. It works quite well, especially if the question was not asked out loud.

After the silence grows a little too long, Uxie finally yields. “… Let me escort you to Fogbound Lake. It’s preferable to talk there.” And with that, he turns around and floats of.

Pearl follows the Legendary immediately. Figures. She must truly believe that Uxie is responsible for her missing memories. Darkrai lingers for a few more seconds – Uxie cannot have figured him out already, can he? No, of course not. If he did, he would have attacked Darkrai, most likely. Or at least revealed his identity.

Deciding that Uxie must not have noticed, he floats after the two.

The way to the lake is not particularly long, but also not short. It follows a winding, small path through the crevice, and at some of the smallest parts, Darkrai can only be glad that he is not as big as, for example, Palkia. Although Palkia would just warp the space to fit him, most likely. Dialga, then. He would have gotten stuck multiple times by now. Just one more proof of Darkrai being superior to them.

As they continue to walk, the sun, having already sunk towards the horizon during their short fight with the Illusion-Groudon and the following conversation with Uxie, now completely disappears beneath the horizon. It is a small solace, at least for Darkrai’s eyes. Ever since the fog was lifted, they became victim to a cruel sun’s rays. And no, he is not being overdramatic.

Finally, the three of them walk out of the crevice and into view of Fogbound Lake.

Before him, Pearl gasps out loud at the beauty of it, and once Darkrai steps to her side, he also takes a gaze at it. Admittedly, it is rather nice to look at. But he has been here a few times already (although they are far in the past) and the first sight one has of the lake is always more special than the following ones.

“It may be a little difficult to see at night,” Uxie starts, and speak for yourself, diurnal Pokémon, Darkrai has none of those difficulties, “But, behold, Fogbound Lake!” With that, he points toward it. They had already seen it, but thanks.

Even though in his head, Darkrai does not hold back from making exasperated comments at everything, he still makes use of the chance to, once again, fully take the lake in. Who knows, maybe once he has created his world of darkness, its existence could only be a treasured memory. As such, he just watches it, for a moment.

Fogbound Lake, when not engulfed by its namesake, has an intense clarity to its water – at even the greatest depths, one can always see the ground. It is also a decent size – Darkrai remembers a time at which he and some others swam through it, and they needed something between half an hour and a full one. It is surrounded by small cliffs and low growth – mostly shrubbery.

By night, the light in its centre is its main focal point – illuminating even long stretches of its surroundings. All around it, the local Illumise and Volbeat fly, only to be made out as small speckles of light.

“It’s incredible!” Pearl finally breathes out, and if Darkrai is reading Uxie right, the Legendary is rather happy about her admiration of the lake. He nods. “It is. It’s only possible to exist as it does because it is on this plateau. And also… Cast your eyes to the glowing area at the lake’s centre. Do you see it?”

Well, first of all, of course they would. It is not exactly easily overlooked. But secondly… why would Uxie point it out? He has to protect it! How would showing it to random Pokémon who simply claimed to only want information help him in any way? For all that Uxie knows, they could have lied before!

“Why… would you show us that?” Darkrai cannot help but ask out loud. Uxie’s behaviour makes no sense! Unless…

Uxie cocks his head to the side.

„Show you what?” he prompts, speaking the question out loud, forcing Darkrai to answer. Blasted Uxie, always figuring out how to abuse the systems Darkrai created to abuse the rules of politeness.

„That-That… You really want me to say it, do you not?” Darkrai cannot help but roll his eye in exasperation. “That Time Gear.” He huffs. “Honestly, being its guardian, I would have thought you would be a little more careful with who you show it to.”

Darkrai is a good actor. Really, he is! But with Pokémon he has known for a long time, it is hard not to fall back into his usual self, especially when he is stressed. He does not deal good with stress. He knows that he does not. And yet, knowing and dealing with it are very different. In fact, normally, he does not deal with it at all, if he can flee instead.

Which he cannot, at the moment. So instead, he has to deal with the stress, which inevitably leads to him becoming more of his usual, cynical self.

(Not that he hasn’t been that in the last weeks, anyways. He takes that thought and stuffs it far, far back. He is a good actor.)

“You know quite a deal about me, do you not?” Uxie asks back. There is a challenge in his words, but as Darkrai’s heart picks up speed, he decides not to engage.

And so, he just shrugs. “Legendaries have always been of great interest to me. I have read and heard a few things.”

“Still, it is truly strange that you would know, since I made sure to take away the memories of all trespassers that managed to defeat the illusion of Groudon.”

“Well, Chimecho also heard some tales, right?” Pearl interjects, and for once, Darkrai is thankful for that. Uxie was… Well, Darkrai cannot claim to read his mind, but he was definitely about to catch on that Darkrai may not quite be what he looks like.

“So,...” she continues after a short pause, “There must’ve been slight memories left behind, maybe? Or perhaps, they just remembered a few things after some time passed…” She trails off and then looks directly at Uxie. “That’s why we are here, actually.”

“Why you are here?” Uxie asks back, his focus successfully diverted.

“Yes,” Darkrai takes over, happy to heap all of Uxie’s scrutiny unto the Piplup. “This is Pearl.” He points at her. “She is just a Piplup, at the moment, as you can clearly see, but she remembers being a human, before. She does not remember anything else.”

“A human?” And now, Uxie is even intrigued. That is good. As long as Uxie focuses on Pearl, he cannot focus on Darkrai.

“Yes. A human. So, have you perhaps met her before – as a human, most likely – and wiped her memories of this place?”

“… No. I have not. No human has ever come here, and no Piplup in the immediate past, either. I do not assume that you are over 400 years old, are you?”

Pearl shakes her head. “Uh… No, I don’t think so.”

“Then it could not have been you. Moreover, I erase only memories of Fogbound Lake. I cannot fully erase all memories of living beings.”

… That is a lie. That is straight up a lie. Darkrai has seen Uxie erase all memories of someone before. So why is he lying? To… keep Pearl calm? Keep her from assuming that Uxie could have been behind it, even after Uxie denied it? That is what Darkrai would do, at least. Well. It is not as if he will ask Uxie, is it? He wants to get away as fast as possible.

But beside him, Pearl visibly deflates. Should he comfort her? Is that what a good friend would do? Something that Uxie would never believe Darkrai able to do?

Very, very carefully, he pats her shoulder, accepting that his hand will feel awful for the rest of the day. He already grabbed her arm, anyways.

She looks at him, eyes wide. He just nods, letting her interpret it whichever way she wants. From the small smile that appears on her face, she has found a way to see it that makes her happy.

“The cause for the transformation and memory loss lie elsewhere,” Uxie summarizes, and under his still patting hand, Darkrai feels Pearl hunch her shoulders.

“I… I understand,” she forces out, “Do you maybe… know of any reasons why I could have—“

But before she can speak her question, she is interrupted by loud cries of, “A Time Gear! A Time Gear! The treasure’s the Time Gear!”

Ugh. This voice is most decidedly Wigglytuff’s. When did he manage to get here? Did he follow them? Darkrai and the others turn around, to watch the approaching Pokémon. This is also his chance to stop touching Pearl, something he gladly does. His hand feels disgusting once again.

As usual, Wigglytuff has a big smile on his face, unhampered by the discovery of the Time Gear. Not that discovering Time Gears should be reason for sadness, per se.

“Well, too bad!” Wigglytuff cries out, “We can’t take a Time Gear!”

Sure they can, if the guild was not full of cowards. Honestly, Darkrai should have just gone back in time and stolen the Time Gears before Grovyle and Pearl had the chance to do so and—

… Why did he not think of that? Why did he not do that?? He knew they were travelling to the past, why did he try to attack instead of making them travel back for naught?! Ugh, he was so stupi—

Not stupid. Of course he was not stupid. He was incredibly smart and intelligent. That is what he was.

He just had not done that because… that plan… uh… lacked any kind of finesse.

Exactly. It was not dramatic and did not fit him, at all. After all, when had he ever worked from the shadows?

(All the time.)

When did he ever do something, not wanting anyone to find out about it?

(Literally all the time.)

He works to be lauded for his genius!

Wigglytuff, meanwhile, has run up to Uxie’s side, and is currently enjoying the view of Fogbound Lake, having a clearly confused and slightly distressed Uxie hovering beside him.

“Glad to meet you, newest friend!” Wigglytuff finally says to Uxie, after having stared at Fogbound Lake long enough, apparently, just as he says “Friend!” to Pearl, and finally “Friend!” to Darkrai.

“You two, glaze upon this amazing view! I’m delighted we came!” And then, he starts singing some kind of song in a rather off-sounding tune. He is… There are no words Darkrai can think of to describe him.

“Who… Who is this?” Uxie asks the two of them (seeing as they are the only normal ones, no surprise) and Darkrai can only sigh deeply.

“That is our,” he stumbles for a second until he manages to force the word out, “Guildmaster, Wigglytuff. Guildmaster of the guild with the same name as him.” The mentioned Guildmaster continues singing his song. It might be a, let’s call it, rendition of a children’s song about an apple, Darkrai is not entirely sure. It would fit him, in any way.

“Oh…” Uxie states, still seeming very surprised, understandably so. He then seems to make an attempt at saying something else, but is interrupted by the many loud voices drawing closer. Even though he does not open his eyes (thankfully), Darkrai can still see them widening beneath their lids.

And then, the rest of the guild is upon them. They must have followed Wigglytuff.

Great. Now they can have a party. Just splendid.

Uxie must be feeling very overwhelmed right now. The lake’s guardian is generally quite an introverted Pokémon, and now, he has to deal with a whole guild of immature Pokémon.

Excluding Darkrai of course. And Pearl (just this once).

Darkrai would feel sorry for Uxie, if he had it in him to care for others.

Wigglytuff, meanwhile, warmly (and loudly) welcomes the rest of the guild, mentally present enough to stop his singing. And then, he makes all of them gaze at the lake. Again. Darkrai is starting to greatly dislike it, just because he has really seen it often enough today.

Uxie, meanwhile, saves himself from his very obviously impending nervous breakdown by going back to what Darkrai knows him to like talking about: The workings of the lake. Whenever Uxie gets stressed, he explains things he knows a lot about (which are many), the lake being one of the most prominent. Darkrai would know, having been caught in such speeches oftentimes before.

“The treasure… must be the view of the lake!” Wigglytuff loudly exclaims, drawing Darkrai out of ignoring whatever Uxie just explained, and… what. Just. What. That is an honest question.

There is literally a glowing Time Gear in the middle of the lake, which can be clearly made out. Why does Wigglytuff think that the lake would be the treasure? Darkrai holds back a sigh. This Pokémon…

“We are so sorry to have disturbed you, friend!” Wigglytuff tells Uxie, once the quiet reverie of the view has come to an end, and Uxie, very much unlike himself, just sighs out loud.

Staring at the lake for another second, and then turning towards them, he finally answers. “It’s alright… and I shall not take away your memories of this place.”

… Darkrai does not even have the energy to be surprised right now. However he might have imagined the day going, this is not how it went.

“You have earned my trust.”

What.

How. Just how. By gazing at a still body of water? Is this a bonding exercise in Uxie’s eyes, ever closed as they may be? Has he judged their character due to their lake-viewing expertise? Did Darkrai fail any water-related tests in the past, for Uxie to dislike him?

“But I must ask that you keep this place a secret. It is of the utmost importance.”

“Surely! We will! Thank you!” Wigglytuff responds, and has he always had the ability to answer when he is talked to? “We all know what we need to do!”

Confirmations from all of the guild’s members follow his exclamation.

“And you know, another Time Gear has been stolen,” Wigglytuff then adds, as if Uxie might not have realized so already. As if he needed to confirm to Uxie that, yes, truly, Wigglytuff knows what is in the centre of the lake, and so does each and everyone else of the guild’s members, now. He continues, “This one must stay safe, so we won’t ever say a word about this place! I swear it in the name of Wigglytuff’s Guild!”

For some reason, Uxie seems somewhat resigned as he answers, “Please hold true to that promise.” Did he not let them get away with their memories intact?

“Well, then let’s be on our way!” Wigglytuff finally cries, and with that announcement, everyone turns around to leave. Sure, they babble quite a lot, and sure, they behave like the common beasts they are, but they actually turn to move back down. Darkrai remains at the end of the group, really not intent on interacting with any of them.

And that is the end of this particular nerve-wracking adventure…

… or at least it should be.

Just when the others have made a few steps and started their descent of the plateau, Uxie’s voice calls out, “Ah, Duskull, would you remain behind for a moment?” Both Pearl and Chatot turn around in tandem with Darkrai. “Just Duskull, please.”

… Oh no. He thought he got away! But… maybe this is about something else. Maybe Uxie simply wants to talk more about Pearl’s lost memories? Yes, yes, that must be it… But then why only call for Darkrai?!

…Maybe Uxie has realized that he is the smartest of their little team. Yes. That must be it.

But in case it is not, Darkrai starts searching for escape routes. Straight ahead? No, the guild is still there. So the water? Maybe. Uxie is quite fast. Maybe the—

Wigglytuff, traitor in disguise he is, happily and loudly agrees, “Yes, yes, Duskull will stay behind with the new friend!”

Chatot seems a little more worried. “I wouldn’t want to assume anything, Mr. Uxie, but Duskull really isn’t that bad of a Pokémon – I promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone. On my own honour!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t erase his memories,” the lake’s guardian calms Chatot, “I just want to ask him a private question.”

“A-Ah, that will be alright, of course! We’ll be waiting at the camp then. Duskull, don’t dawdle, you understand!” Is… Is Chatot actually… worried about Darkrai’s wellbeing?

… His infiltration is going wonderful. That was all planned, of course. Darkrai nods.

Pearl, of course, tries to stay behind – but Chatot carries her along, giving her no chance to return. She throws him a last worried glance, and then disappears down the plateau.

Which leaves just Uxie and Darkrai, awkwardly staring at each other.

“You are quite the intriguing character, do you know that?” Uxie asks, and, as unassuming as his voice sounds, Darkrai hears the hidden ice within it.

Darkrai just stares at Uxie.

Uxie continues, anyways. “Your eye has a curious colour…” Because the original had that colour too, alright! Nothing else! Definitely not! “And you know an awful lot about illusions and myself, Duskull,” Uxie starts and oh no, this is heading exactly where he feared it would.

“I just read a lot, as I said.”

“Oh, that you do, I am sure. How old are you, if I may ask? I noticed that you speak in a rather antiquated way. A little preposterous, some would even say.”

Darkrai huffs. As if. But… he is walking on a dangerous path, right now. He knows that. One wrong answer, one reaction that is off… and Uxie will truly know who he is. Right now, he must still be gauging things.

Should Darkrai try to run away…? No, he can’t. Uxie would surely follow him. So, knock the other out, hope he does not remember? Too risky, of course Uxie will remember. Or should he… no, he cannot kill Uxie. Physically, he might be able to, but… no.

For now, Darkrai will have to try sticking to words and talking his way out of the situation.

“I do not speak in an old-fashioned way,” he therefore objects, “I was just born in a time when language was still different – and my age really does not matter.”

Uxie hums. “So, your interest in Legendaries—”

“Purely for educational purposes, I assure you. I do not search them out on my own, but rather read about them, or listen to tales.”

Uxie huffs out a laugh. It does not sound very honest. “I mean, you have always enjoyed reading, have you not, Darkrai?”

It feels as if ice grows around his heart, through his lungs, takes over his chest, his entire body. And at the same time, there is a searing burning in the same space, almost too much to bear. His heart beats rapidly, not sure how to deal with the contrasting sensations.

He forces himself to take a deep breath, staring at Uxie. He can still attack and knock him out. He can try to capture him in a never-ending nightmare, and… keep him alive during that time, somehow. He can abandon his plans completely, just run away. Hide until time has been saved, his past self been thrown back in time and then wait for everyone to stop being angry about it.

But… he has done nothing considered evil in the last few decades, he reminds himself. Nothing the other Legendaries know of, at least. Admitting to this one truth, then… well, it seems the only solution. It might be his only chance at keeping his plan and himself alive, right now – if he can spin a tale that sounds logical to accompany it.

He sighs theatrically, stands up straight and lets the illusion disappear. It gives him the great chance of folding his hands before his chest, something that just looks stupid through the illusion, but not in this form. “Obviously you would figure it out. Did you just want to rub it in my face, or is there a better reason for keeping me behind?”

“I am simply wondering about this whole charade.” Uxie, in turn, also folds his arms over each other, mirroring Darkrai’s action. “I did not know you liked exploring, or pretending to be a mere Duskull, so am I right in assuming that this is your newest plan for spreading dissonance?”

Rude. As if everything he does is to spread dissonance! Best to make that clear.

“This is, most certainly, not another plan to…” Darkrai harrumphs, “Spread dissonance. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

And exploring is quite fun, he will admit – but only to himself.

Uxie stares at him, waiting for him to continue. Obviously, just being miffed at the implications of Uxie’s statement is not enough to make him believe that Darkrai has a non-illicit reason for doing what he does. Which means that he needs a cover story. A good cover story.

How great that he already has an idea for what he might tell the other.

“I had a nightmare,” he starts, “One that… was not of the usual kind. I am not sure if it showed me any kind of truth or not, but it compelled me to help the once-human you just met.”

“You had a vision?” Uxie sounds surprised, which, sure, is a normal reaction. Darkrai does not have prophetic dreams. Has never had them, will probably never have them. But does anyone else know that? Of course not.

“I am not sure, Uxie, as I stated. I saw something that can only be described as a catastrophic future, and Pearl, uh, I mean, the Piplup, was the one stopping it from ever happening.”

At that, Uxie scoffs. His gaze, Darkrai is sure, is cold, because everyone’s always is, when they talk to the real him. “You, interested in stopping a catastrophic future? Do you really want me to believe this?”

Rude. He scoffs right back and averts his gaze, staring at the lake instead. It is much nicer to look at than Uxie’s face, anyways, since it cannot suddenly decide to open its eyes. “There are futures I would prefer did not happen, Uxie. I am not trying to destroy our world – after all, I live in it, too.”

And in a certain way it is true – he does not want to destroy the world. Just change it into one more to his liking. It is not his fault that others misinterpret that as destroying.

“Then what did you see? And do not try to tell me that it was vague. I know you wouldn’t act on a hunch, Darkrai. Everything you do is planned through, and you would not force yourself to be confronted with other Pokémon daily if the vision was in any way unclear.”

He continues staring at the lake and the Pokémon flying around and above it. They lead useless little lives, do they not? Completely insignificant from birth to death. Truly, a pitiful existence. “Not all of us can be saints. Anyways, the nightmare was not awfully clear on everything – they tend not to be – but the one thing that was not dreamlike in any way was that it seemed as if Temporal Tower was collapsing.”

“What?!”

“Exactly. At first, I did not put much stock in it, but… a Time Gear has been stolen, has it not?”

Of course, if Uxie became aware that Darkrai already took on the illusion of a Duskull long before that happened, he would immediately see through his lie, but he will not learn of it.

“Was there… anything else?” the other finally asks, and Darkrai tries to remember the nightmarish world he had almost manged to rule.

“Time had entirely stopped. There was just…” Darkness, he does not say because, well, it is an open secret that he loves darkness, “Nothing. Nothing moved, nothing happened, just… nothingness. A bleak landscape, dead flora, no Pokémon to be seen.”

And hey, nothingness sounds good, in a bad way – no one would want that, not even Darkrai.

“Nothing lived, except for…” Here, he makes a dramatic pause, “Primal Dialga. And even if I suddenly decided that I wanted to live in a world without any life – which I do not, I assure you – then I would not want that being around. You understand, of course.”

Uxie, of course, would understand the horror of Primal Dialga. All of the oldest Legendaries understand that horror, and if Darkrai had known from the start that initiating Temporal Tower’s collapse would lead to Dialga taking on his primal form, he would never have done so. Primal Dialga may have had a reason to exist when the world did not exist as it is now, but, well, it should not overstay its welcome.

And so, they fall into silence – Uxie no doubt digesting what Darkrai just told him. It might have started as a lie, but by the end, most of it was the truth, anyways. And, honestly, Darkrai does not want to get that world of the future back. No, there are many better ways to create a world of darkness. Like screwing with Solgaleo and Lunala. Which may have failed in the past, but he has learnt from his mistakes! He is sure that whatever he planned now, it would be a much greater plan. They cannot keep their guard up for eternity.

“I will believe you just this once,” Uxie’s voice draws him out of his thoughts, and Darkrai finally draws his gaze away from the lake, “Not necessarily because I believe that you have suddenly gained the ability to see the future… But because I have been observing you since you lifted the fog around my lake. You obviously care for the Piplup by your side, and although I do not know if the future you told me about is real, you certainly believe what you said, whether it be true or not.”

Well, of course he does. He did not make the world up, obviously. Good lies are always rooted in truth.

“However…” Uxie continues, and really? Can Darkrai just not be allowed to just leave, now? Oh, sure, it is definitely quite enjoyable to once again look like he ought to, to stand tall and proud, but if he can get away from Uxie, he would gladly give that up again.

“There is another reason I held you back, and now that I have ascertained that, in a way, I can trust you for the moment…” the other trails off, and where is this going? “I need you to make sure that, truly, none of the Pokémon of Wigglytuff’s Guild speak of Fogbound Lake.”

“… What?” For a second, Darkrai cannot even comprehend what Uxie just said. He is asking him to… what? “But why?”

Did he not say he trusted them, for whatever contrite reason he came up with?

“You, of all Pokémon, should know. I cannot trust them fully, as much as I would want to. They did seem like good Pokémon, but I am not Mesprit, so I cannot tell if all of them truly feel as if they need to keep the secret. They could be good Pokémon, but still decide that they need to tell friends or family of my lake, for some reason.”

“Then why did you not erase their memories while you had the chance? And before you answer, now that we are talking about this topic, I have another question – why did you claim that you cannot erase all memories of a living being? We both know that this is a lie.”

Uxie stares at him for a long time, and then looks in the direction of the mountain path. He unfolds his arms and, with his left hand, scratches his chin. “Indeed it is. I was worried that… I would frighten your friend if I admitted to perhaps being able to do what must have been done to her. She is how old?”

“No older than 15, but most likely even younger than that.”

“Still a child, then, as I assumed. Besides, I did not want her to grow wary of me – most Pokémon do so, once they realize I could erase their entire identity if I so pleased. Not that I would do so—”

“Nowadays.”

Uxie seems to stare at him intently, and finally nods. “Nowadays. We all have abilities which may have their advantages and downsides, and we all had to learn how to use them. You understand, I am sure.”

Darkrai does not answer. Instead, he looks at the lake again. Their abilities and powers are nothing alike, and neither are the troubles they may have had with them. Uxie quickly realizes that Darkrai is not willing to answer, and continues to talk.

“To come back to your first question…”

“Before you do, I have another that I believe might be connected – why show Pearl and me the Time Gear? You are supposed to guard it, are you not? Showing it to others seems somewhat counter-productive.”

“For others, it might be.”

“Not for you, then?”

“To erase only… specific memories, it helps me to create an anchor, so to speak, of which I know exactly what it looks like. And by showing you the Gear—”

“You created that anchor yourself.” Darkrai would bet that the Illusion-Groudon and its statue serve the same purpose. Real admiration creeps into his next words. “Ingenious, I would dare say.”

He does not miss the way Uxie contorts his face for just a little moment, not even a full second – not visible but to those who have known Uxie for a long time. This long time of not liking, but at least being polite with each other tells him that this miniscule emotion he just saw was a glimmer of disgust – disgust at what could be interpreted as a compliment from Darkrai.

Is it a wonder he hates the world as it is if all it has ever done is hate him?

Uxie does not let silence grow, but Darkrai does nothing to keep the hate in his heart from sprouting even further.

“However, even though I created these anchors in the memories of all of the guild’s members… I am able to erase specific memories of two Pokémon at once, and even three if I am careful. But a dozen Pokémon at the same time? That is too much for me, if I do not want them to get hurt.”

“Which you did not want?” Darkrai would like to pretend that he is simply teasing the other, but no, there is real curiosity behind his words.

“No!” Uxie almost shouts, “No. They would not deserve it.”

“Then why would you make it so easy for them to get to your lake?”

Uxie harrumphs. “Under normal circumstances, the illusion of Groudon would keep them from continuing on. No one decides to fight him under normal circumstances, you know?”

Darkrai’s eye narrows and he hurries to defend himself. “I was not planning on doing that, you know? I simply wanted to get away as cleanly as possible.”

“Yes, and unfortunately, the illusion cannot take too much damage. And then, while I was distracted by trying to solve the mystery of your identity, as well as dealing with that Guildmaster, the rest snuck on by. So that is why they just came here,” Uxie explains, screwing up his nose.

It is strange, Darkrai realizes, how they can talk with each other as if… As if not much had happened between them. Maybe Uxie really does not keep grudges.

“Besides,” Uxie suddenly says, “I could not erase their memories with you there, as well.”

Darkrai raises his eyebrow. “What are you trying to say? That you cannot erase my memories? Or that I would not have let it happen? Because I assure you, I do not care about whether they keep their memories of this place or not.”

“The first explanation, mostly. Practically, I could of course do so,” Is that a threat? Darkrai almost asks out loud. “But in reality, the other Legendaries would be quite unhappy about that, most likely enraged even.”

Darkrai’s eyebrow travels just a little further up. As if. They would probably celebrate, no, not probably. Surely.

He does not say so. If Uxie believes it, and it keeps him from trying to screw with Darkrai’s mind, there is no need to disabuse him of that notion.

Then, though, Uxie adds a truly logical reason. “And tell me, honestly, if I had tried to erase your memories, would you just have accepted it?”

Darkrai scowls. “I would have attacked you and made sure that you never wake up from the nightmares I would force on you.”

“Exactly. And since I would rather not have that happen, I could not truly erase their memories of Fogbound Lake. Moreover, I would not want to use my powers on you.”

Here, Darkrai does not miss the implied, ‘So you should not use your powers on me’. And alright, he understands. This once, he will make the centuries old deal with Uxie, the one that is called…

“One hand washes the other, huh? But alright, to end all this useless talk, I will ensure that the guild’s members keep your secret – if you keep mine. Do not tell anyone about what I am doing. And I mean everyone. Not even your siblings should know.”

Uxie nods. “Of course. It is not my secret, so I cannot share it.”

“And don’t even think of giving even the tiniest of hints to Cresselia.”

Uxie snorts. “I promise not to do so.”

Darkrai decides to ignore his snort.

For a few seconds, they stand, unmoving, until finally, Uxie speaks up again. “Then go on, now. I am sure your new friend is already waiting.”

“Yes, no fault to you, obviously.”

“Obviously. Hurry along.”

And thus, finally, ends the expedition.

Notes:

Happy Ides of March! Please do not stab your local author. However, if you do feel the need to stab someone, make sure to keep a safe distance while doing so! While stabbing dictators in a mob is always more fun, please show responsibility and form a line with at least one meter between each participant. I am sure your local dictator will understand the need for it.
That having been said, thank you all once again for all the love you continue to give this fic of mine. Since I am somewhat busy today, I probably won't be able to answer all comments today, however, by tomorrow I should be done.
Have a great rest of the Ides of March!

Edit Hiatus Update (13.10.2022):
some normal editing, also a lil more conversation with Uxie. nothing life-changing, but it might be interesting to give at least that scene another read.
Also, do you know those memes of ao3 writers writing through the worst things and acting like that’s normal? I had intense pain in my main hand/arm some days ago (couldn’t even move the bitch properly), and been pretty sick for the last days, but that’s not gonna stop me from continuing my editing work, yeehaw

Chapter 9: Confectionary Company

Summary:

Last Chapter: The Pokémon of the Wigglytuff Guild managed to find Fogbound Lake and its guardian, the Legendary Pokémon Uxie. The treasure to be found at the lake turned out to be a Time Gear, which Uxie was guarding – although according to Wigglytuff, it was the view of the lake. Uxie then made all of the guild’s members promise to never tell anyone about what they found. Unfortunately for Darkrai, though, Uxie also figured out Darkrai’s true identity, and he had to stay behind for a conversation. However, in a matter of 'one hand washes the other', they agreed to ensure that both their secrets would be kept.
(Also, Darkrai and Pearl had a short meeting with Team Skull, but like, literally nothing happened there.)

Notes:

I'm really sorry that this chapter is late! The reasons for that are explained in the end notes. There is also a chance that the next chapter will be late again, once again, I am really sorry.

(Edit Hiatus Update: Haha… ha…)

“Hey, uh, Duskull, sooo… you wouldn’t happen to be related to him, right?” Sunflora asks out of the blue, just as Darkrai is about to finally read the Job Bulletin Board.

Well, alright, so it is not completely out of the blue, of course – it was only logical that one of the guild’s many dimwits would ask sooner or later. He just counted on it being… later. Which was a mistake on his part, he can admit. He overestimated the guild’s average IQ. It could happen to anyone.

Still, it is annoying – on top of a day which already started out annoying.

But back to the question - him? Sunflora must mean the great explorer Dusknoir, the main reason as to why Darkrai already hates today. Why did that Pokémon have to show up this morning? For what reason? Darkrai only had the misfortune of meeting him for barely half an hour, with no words exchanged between them, and that has already been enough for a lifetime.

More importantly, he has been left wondering… is the ghost the Dusknoir or just a Dusknoir? Future or present? Having no closure to the questions, Darkrai can feel his mood worsening by the minute.

With a carefully controlled voice, giving no infliction to his words whatsoever, he answers, “No, Sunflora, I am not related to him.”

“But you are related to Dareios, right?” she asks in turn, for no discernible reason. Is that not common knowledge? And even if it was not…

“Why is that of interest to you?”

She swings her head from side to side. “Welllll, I was just wondering, you know!”

Oh. He thinks he knows where this is going. Because he is related to Dareios, he must obviously also be related to the famous Dusknoir and therefore could… what? Get her one of the autographs he already said he was willing to give out? Tell Dusknoir that Sunflora is a nuisance?

The Pokémon of this guild, no, this world, are just so stupid.

“Hey, Sunflora?” he asks, this time not bothering to hide the iciness creeping into his words.

She takes a slight step back, most likely without even realizing it, but it tells him that she definitely picks up that Darkrai is not trying to make friendly conversation. In the end, her curiosity must win out, because she asks, “Yeah?”

“Are you, by any chance, related to the feral Sunkern I knocked out on my last job?”

“Of course not! What kind of question— Oh. Okay. So not related, eek, okay, I get it, bye!” And with that, she runs off, finally having lost the last of her courage. Good.

Darkrai just hopes she will stay the only one to ask this question.

 

She does not stay the only one to ask this question.

 

“Good morning, Kecleon and Kecleon!” Pearl cries when they are still decidedly too far away from the Kecleon Market, which makes not only the brothers turn in her and Darkrai’s direction, but also most of the Pokémon simply going about their day. Oh, and Dusknoir, too, because of course he is here, and of course Darkrai now has to run into him. He should have just gone to Blissey under the pretence of needing some more of that salve for his back she has been making biweekly. It works quite well, Darkrai has to admit, or he would not continue to buy it.

In any way, it is too late now, Dusknoir has already spotted them. And this, they now have to approach fully, to make conversation. Well. Technically, if there were no rules of politeness and conduct, Darkrai could just turn around and walk away without a word. But, unfortunately, they exist. Cursed be social etiquette and Darkrai’s dwindling acceptance of it.

“Good morning to you, too,” Green Kecleon starts, a small smile on his lips, and Blue Kecleon finishes the sentence, “Pearl and Duskull. Great to see you!”

“Hello there!” Dusknoir greets them, and then he continues, seemingly intent on making small talk, “You’re from the guild, if I’m not mistaken?”

Darkrai barely keeps from rolling his eye, but he does not keep from giving a flippant answer. “Of course we are. I would wager that there are not many other blue-eyed Duskull in this town.”

Dusknoir laughs, as if what Darkrai said was funny, and the Kecleon brothers as well as Pearl have the gall to join in. He did not make a joke, darn it!

“Very true,” Dusknoir finally says, and throws him what could probably be considered a small smile. Duskull and its evolutions are strange when it comes to mouths.

“We’re Team Sky!” Pearl takes over, and that’s exactly what Darkrai did not want happening – Pearl has the habit of, one, being too friendly towards others, and two, being a blabbermouth when she has the chance to be, and Darkrai is really not feeling up to small talk right now. Or ever. “And very happy to meet you, even Darcy here, he just likes to act prickly.”

And there’s another laugh at his expense. Darkrai sighs deeply. There goes his chance of getting away from here in a timely manner.

“So, uh, Dusknoir, sir, what are you doing here? Shopping?” Pearl asks, and what a smart question. Really. What could a famous explorer do at a shop. Hm. He wonders.

“No, no,” Dusknoir answers and wait, what, “I’m simply enjoying a chat! You also do not need to call me sir, I’m not quite that old yet.”

Could he really be the Dusknoir, from the same future as Pearl? He certainly does not behave so, but Darkrai, of all Pokémon, would know that some Pokémon have great acting skills when they need to. And Dusknoir always struck him as the type to possess them.

… Not that he ever interacted with him, really. No, he just watched from the side-lines, and even that, he did only rarely. There were more important things to focus on.

Nevermind that! There is just something Darkrai is picking up on when it comes to Dusknoir, something he cannot even name and which slips from his mind like sand through fingers if he tries to grasp it.

He frowns. That could also be something about ghost-types in general, could it not? Very rarely, he has felt like that when looking at Dareios. And buried deep within his mind, he recognizes that, truly, some long-forgotten ghost-types he interacted with in the past raised quite a similar feeling.

Giratina certainly did, but… she is a special case, in any way.

And still, even knowing all that, something about Dusknoir seems not quite right, not quite honest, not quite real. It is a feeling Darkrai most often gets when confronted with liars of whom he cannot see through their lies.

So it is therefore most likely that he is truly the Dusknoir from the future, Darkrai decides. It would only make sense, what with Grovyle already having gathered at least one Time Gear in this time.

With a sudden jerk, Darkrai realizes that he must have spaced out. Hopefully, no one noticed. He starts listening to the conversation again.

“… interesting,” Dusknoir says, reacting to something that Darkrai did not hear, “So the two of you truly found—"

He gets interrupted by two small Pokémon almost running into him, and wonderful, now Darkrai’s day is officially ruined. What a time to tune back in. He should’ve just stayed in the guild, honestly.

“Careful, you two!” Dusknoir tells Azurill and Marill with a kind voice, and this is the moment that Darkrai consciously realizes that, however Dusknoir is presenting himself to the world, it cannot be the real him. Because for a moment, just a moment, shorter even than a second, there is something like annoyance in his eye, only to be seen if someone was looking for it. And still, his reaction does not reflect that even in the slightest way, which tells Darkrai what he needs to know: Dusknoir is playing a role.

“Sorry, Mr. …, uh, Dusknoir?” Azurill says, and Pearl speaks up next, “Azurill, Marill, it’s great to run into you!”

“Literally,” Darkrai mutters, but goes ignored.

“Yes, you too, Pearl!” Marill answers with a big grin, but hurries to add, “But we’re really sorry, we can’t stay much longer!

“You’re in a rush?” Pearl asks, and once again, Marill answers. Azurill just tries to look cute, but instead, looks like a stupid little child.

“Yeah! You know how we’ve been looking for our lost item?” Azurill says this time, no longer trying to look cute, probably. Or something. Darkrai really is just too annoyed to actually figure out what they are thinking.

Pearl, intent on ignoring Darkrai’s annoyance at all of these… conversations, asks, “I do! What was it again?” Ugh. Darkrai knows that she, at least, is aware that he dislikes being in this situation. And still, she insists on socializing.

Just like Cresselia, he would normally equate, but… Not this time. Cresselia would always be glad if he kept away from others.

“A Water Float!” the brothers cry together. Darkrai grimaces. Too loud. Everything in this cursed town is too loud.

Marill then continues, once again. “And today, Thwackey, you know, the one from the Water Continent?”

“Yeah, I’ve met him a few times!”

“He told us that he’d seen one on the beach! So that’s where we are going right now!”

“Oh, that’s great!” Pearl grins, “Then I don’t want to hold you back any longer, go and look! And when we meet next time, tell me if you found it!”

“Will do! Bye-bye!” Marill runs off, and Azurill, after repeating, “Bye-bye!” runs after him.

… How very, very annoying. Maybe Darkrai should just end his day after getting away from the Kecleon Market. He is not in the mood for many more interactions, today.

To his side, green Kecleon mutters, “I’ve actually never heard of a Water Float…”

Pearl laughs. “I mean, neither have I!”

Pearl not knowing makes sense. But Kecleon… “You run an item-based shop,” Darkrai states, flatly, “And you have never heard of it?”

“You have?” Blue Kecleon asks, and of course Darkrai has! Since he cannot let their ignorance continue to run rampant, he explains, “Of course. It is an Azurill-specific item, only obtainable through trading various items for each other. The process of continuous trading changes its inherent properties after some time.”

Next to him, Dusknoir laughs a hearty laugh that does not sound fake at all. Blast it, he is good at deception.

“That’s just what I was about to explain!” he states. “If I may add,” he says, nodding towards Darkrai as if he truly needs his permission, “Because of the huge amount of trading involved, it is also an incredibly expensive item.”

Darkrai, once again, keeps from rolling his eye. Braggart.

“Oh, how interesting!” Blue Kecleon says, and Green Kecleon has the gall to add, “You are truly knowledgeable, Dusknoir!”

And what about Darkrai? He also knew this! Ugh, he hates them, he hates Treasure Town, and he has now decided that he also hates Dusknoir. Especially Dusknoir.

“Perhaps we should do some research into rarer items,” Blue Kecleon finally concludes, “Because it is really a little embarrassing to work as sellers, but never have heard of it!” He laughs, and his brother joins in.

“Well, in any way,” Dusknoir starts, and it is in a tone of voice that tells Darkrai that the other now wants to end this impromptu-meeting, which suits him just right, “It has been a pleasure meeting all of you! I think I will look around the town a little more, familiarize myself with it—”

“Oh, do you want us to show you around?” Pearl asks and what is she doing?! This right here was the perfect chance to get away and not deal with Dusknoir anymore! But no, she has to go and… and try to have even more interactions with him! Why is she so social! “I mean, not that Treasure Town’s really big, you wouldn’t get lost or anything, I mean—”

“If you were willing, I’d be delighted,” Dusknoir says, and once again, the words just sound so honest. Darkrai would like to be impressed if he was not already annoyed.

“Willing is a strong word,” Darkrai finally answers, seeing Pearl’s big smile and realizing that he will have to indulge her friendliness towards others, once again, unless he wants to seem like a bad friend, and therefore continues, “But it would not be too much of a bother.”

It would. It absolutely would.

“And Chatot wouldn’t be angry if we arrive a little later to tell him that the Kecleon Brothers won’t be stocking any Perfect Apples if we told him why we arrived late!” Pearl says, grinning, and Darkrai wouldn’t be so sure, but if there is one thing he has never cared about it is making Chatot angry.

Dusknoir speaks up, floating away from the Kecleon brothers to follow Pearl, who has already started walking. “Stocking Perfect Apples – ah, you mentioned before, your assignment for the day, correct?”

“Yup, that’s right!” Pearl answers, and obnoxiously pops the ‘p’ of her ‘Yup’. Ugh. Darkrai is in for a long day.

 

“So yeah, I guess that’s it, pretty much?” Pearl says at the end of their little tour – which did not turn out short at all, since basically every Pokémon in town seems to have heard of Dusknoir and therefore pounced on a chance to talk to him.

But now, finally, they ended up at the square again. And it seems like their time spent together is truly coming to a close, now. It could not be early enough for Darkrai, seeing as Dusknoir is still keeping up his lie of being a morally righteous and friendly Pokémon, and even though Darkrai is sure that this is a construct, it just… infuriates him.

(Perhaps because it reminds him of Cresselia.)

(Who he is not going to think about right now, or he might just commit a crime.)

(Murder. The crime would be murder.)

“Pearl! Darcy!” a voice suddenly cries, a voice Darkrai has already heard today – Marill, most definitely. Before Darkrai can even tell him and his brother to get lost (not that he would truly do so – he just wants to do it), they have approached, and Marill is throwing some kind of note into their faces.

On instinct, Darkrai makes a grab for it. Seems like something is written on it – at least if that Torchick scratch can truly be counted as writing.

“It’s-It’s-It’s—” Marill stutters, and since no end to his attempt to speak seems to be coming, Darkrai decides to just ignore him and read the paper instead.

It says – if Darkrai is making the words out correctly, “The Water Float you were looking for is now in our possession. Just try to take it from us! We’ll wait in the deepest part of the Amp Plains. But knowing how weak and puny you are, I bet you can’t even reach us! Chaw-haw-haw! Can’t handle it? Go cry to your big-shot friends! Chaw-haw-haw!”

… Who writes out their laughter in a letter? Twice? Darkrai would almost think it pitiful, if it was not such an obvious attempt at a trap.

He starts listening to Marrill again, who seems to have come a little further by now, “And then, we found the letter instead of our Water Float, and it’s obviously—”

“A trap, yes,” Darkrai finishes.

Pearl looks up at him and then asks, “What does it say, Darcy?”

Darkrai huffs. “It is disgraceful that you are still not able to read.” He pauses, then sighs. “But to summarize, it is very obviously blackmail from someone claiming that they took the Water Float, and are hiding with it at the Amp Plains. A pathetic thing to do.”

He truly means that – to pick on children like that shows a lack of class. Alright, Darkrai might do so, too, but only if the children are of importance to one of his many plans. But just to make fun of them and probably beat them up?  Truly pathetic.

“Why would anyone do that?” a deep voice behind Darkrai speaks up, and he does not jerk in surprise. He does not. He also did not forget that Dusknoir was still here. He would never.

“Perhaps just bad taste,” Darkrai absolutely calmly explains, because he did not feel any surprise or anything, “However, I believe that it is more likely to be a trap by some… acquaintances of ours.”

For a second, all of them are silent, and then, Pearl asks, “You don’t mean—"

“Chaw-haw-haw is written down, two times. Of course it is Team Skull.” Before Dusknoir can ask anything again, Darkrai tells him what he needs to know, “A group of local troublemakers who constantly try to mess with us. They do not know how to surrender.”

Pearl groans. “They really don’t.” Turning to Dusknoir, she adds, “Darcy knocked them out every time they tried to battle us, but they still call us weak, and yeah…”

“They sound like unpleasant company,” Dusknoir accurately summarizes.

“They are,” Darkrai agrees.

“Anyways!” Pearl perks up, newfound vigour in her voice, “We need to get the Water Float back!”

Now, Darkrai was sure that Pearl would say something like this. But this time, he won’t have it. Having to see Uxie because of her was enough. “And how do you want to do so? Walk into the obvious trap?”

“Well, what else can we do? We need to go to the Amp Plains!”

“The Amp Plains, where mostly electric-types dwell? Do excuse what I am going to say next, but you are by far not strong enough for that.” And she truly is not. Sure, she has grown considerably stronger by now, but not strong enough to just ignore type disadvantages.

“I am!” she objects, whippersnapper that she is, “And even if I wasn’t, I have you!”

“Not this time, Pearl,” he rejects her, folding his arms behind his back, “I am not walking into an obvious trap, in a Dungeon where you have a huge disadvantage. I am not your babysitter.”

“Well, I am not asking you to be!” Darkrai can see her barely stopping herself from stomping her foot on the ground, like some toddler. The anger, however, she does not hide. Her eyes are narrowed at him.

“You are. You want to hurry into a Dungeon where you will most likely get knocked out in the first five minutes, where you know a trap has been laid, and then do what, exactly?” He crosses his arms before his chest, now, and stands up straighter. It does not matter that the trap was laid by fools. He won’t just walk into it.

“I am not going.”

“Marill and Azurill need our help!” Pearl insists.

Darkrai throws them a glance. The mentioned Pokémon are looking somewhat embarrassed, probably by the argument Pearl and he are having. On their behalf.

Not that Darkrai cares. They can be as uncomfortable as they want. His ability to care about them never existed in the first place.

“Marill and Azurill,” he pointedly says, “Have been missing their Water Float for many months by now. They can wait a few more days.”

Finally, Pearl really stomps her foot on the ground, like the child she is. A great way to prove how she does not need a babysitter, obviously. “But we know where the item is! We can retrieve it!”

Darkrai still does not feel moved. “And I am not going. That is final.”

“You-, you are such a shi—”

“If I may,” Dusknoir interrupts, and this time, Darkrai is not surprised by it. Not that he was, before. But, well, Dusknoir seems to be very intent on putting his maybe-existent nose into other Pokémons’ business.

(Just like Cresselia.)

(Thinking about her makes him even angrier.)

“You may,” Darkrai huffs, staring at some Pokémon who were very obviously trying to eavesdrop just now. They hurry away. At least Dusknoir has the excuse that he was right next to Pearl and Darkrai when

“I truly understand your hesitance about going to the Amp Plains, Duskull – they are truly dangerous, and knowing that there is most likely a trap as well would make almost everyone at least hesitate.”

Darkrai harrumphs. It is not as if he could not deal with whatever Team Skull came up with, Dusknoir is misunderstanding the situation. He just does not feel the need to do so, when they would probably get bored of waiting if Pearl and Darkrai did not come for a few days, and then, everything would resolve itself anyways.

Bot obviously, Dusknoir does not understand any of that. And Darkrai will not correct him.

Instead, the ghost continues, “And I also understand your point, Pearl – you want to help your friends, no matter how hard it may be.”

Pah! Pearl just does not think about these things in the first place. But Dusknoir, once again, does not know. So much for being oh-so-clever.

And still, he monologues on. “Therefore, let me offer the following: I could go to the Amp Plains with you, Pearl. Of course, only if both of you would be willing! I have been there once before, and know that I can deal quite alright with the Dungeon, even if I had a water-type with me.”

There is a sort of foreign anger in Darkrai’s chest, one he has not felt before, that, for some reason, he does not truly grasp. In the end, he just huffs again, and states, “Do what you want. I do not care.”

“Well, I do, so yes, please! Thank you so much, Dusknoir!” Pearl smiles. Darkrai wants to wipe that smile right off her face, but… he can’t. Tarnation.

“It’s what everyone of my strength would do,” Dusknoir magnanimously answers, and ugh. Darkrai hates him. He actually hates him. He does not even care if he is the Dusknoir anymore, or just a Dusknoir. He hates him, wants him to die a painful, nightmare-riddled death. But instead, he will have to play nice.

He hates this. He hates this world of light.

“Oh, yeah, Darcy,” Pearl addresses him, a sly smile on her face, “You gotta tell Chatot about the Perfect Apples on your own, then.” Darkrai is sure that there is a gleeful undertone in her voice. Hating her for it would be easy, but… whatever. Let her enjoy what she perceives to be a victory. He is not playing the same game as her.

And so, he just ignores what she said, and instead and waves her off, to do as she wants to. As he said, it is not like he is her babysitter.

 

Sitting on the bench in Dareios’ small tent, Marill and Azurill right next to him, Darkrai is horrified to realize that he, somehow, still got saddled with the task of being a babysitter. Just that now, he has to look after two literal children, instead of a headstrong Piplup.

Not for the first time since Pearl left, he wonders if the decision he made was truly the correct one.

Being a babysitter is one thing making him reconsider it. And having to deal with Chatot on his own was also very, very unpleasant. Darkrai even had to make up that Pearl was still at the bank, instead of out on her own, because the bird came much to close to having a fit over them separating for more than two minutes! Darkrai is not a child! He can decide for himself how and with whom to spend his time!

Still, Chatot made it rather hard to appreciate that fact.

And even besides that, his decision might have been somewhat hasty. Because, as he had by now come to realize, if Dusknoir is truly the Dusknoir from the future, and Pearl is the human from the future who Dusknoir had always tried to dispose of, then perhaps… letting her go off with him on her own might not have been a good idea. What if he… Kills her while Darkrai is not there to protect her? What will become of him, then? She was alive when he was thrown back in time, her very existence is quite literally tying him to this timeline!

But no, Darkrai needs to calm himself. There is no way for Dusknoir to know about Pearl having been a human, once. At least there should not be. She does not mention it to anyone lightly – as far as Darkrai knows, only Uxie and he know at the moment – and she typically also does not mention her amnesia. She might be careless with many other things, but at least in this, she is not. So, to Dusknoir, if he is the one from the future, the name should be the only indicator of her real identity.

And truly, what’s in a name? Darkrai has met other Pokémon named Pearl -  it is not too uncommon a name, especially not amongst water-types. And luckily for her, Pearl ended up being exactly that. So, really, Dusknoir should not think that she could be the human he must have known.

If he even is the Dusknoir from the future. As long as the other does not confirm it himself (or Grovyle confirms it, if Darkrai will ever meet him) he will still leave a small window of doubt open for himself. After all, just because he is obviously a liar does not make him anything else. Perhaps he just murdered the real ‘venerated Dusknoir’, who existed in this time, and took on his identity, to… get money. Or something. It is a possibility. Not very likely, but it is there.

Well. In any way…

Did Darkrai make the right decision?

If he looks at it from the standpoint of letting Pearl run off with someone who perhaps wants to kill her, probably not.

If he looks at it as avoiding to run into an obvious trap and therefore staying alive, then yes, absolutely.

But… Pearl was very obviously angry with him, for refusing to come with her. Darkrai is not a hopeless case when it comes to reading the emotions of others, as much as others would want to insist on that being the case. He knows how to read others! How else would he manipulate them, huh?

… Still. Pearl was angry, which means that Darkrai will have to make sure to behave especially nice to her in the coming days.

He leans against the tent’s fabric wall and groans out loud. He may not have thought this through, at all.

“Are you alright, Mr. Duskull?” Azurill asks, and Darkrai almost ignores him – until he notices Dareios staring into the tent. Great. Now he isn’t allowed to ignore the kid, due to societal norms. Thrice cursed be whoever came up with those.

“Of course I am,” he therefore answers, “I am simply… worried for Pearl. Maybe I should not have let her go without me by her side.”

“Oh, yeah, I am too!” Azurill crows, as if Darkrai is actually interested in knowing that. “But Mr. Dusknoir is really strong! He’ll protect her!”

“Great.” There is no infliction to his voice, but Azurill seems too young still to notice, and thus, smiles brightly.

“And don’t worry about staying behind,” Marill says, and Darkrai is still not interested in any of this! He should have just walked to the Amp Plains into whatever trap awaited him there. It was Team Skull who came up with it, it could not have been too bad. “We totally understand! We also didn’t dare go there. Mom always says that it’s good to know your strengths, but even better to know your weaknesses!”

“Truly a wise mother,” another voice joins into their conversation, and of course it is Dareios. Darkrai may almost appreciate the ghost at times, but whenever the other feels the need to insert himself into conversations, he does not. “How is she, by the way?”

“Better!” Azurill cries, and Marill hurries to explain, “She still doesn’t really go out, cause last time she did, she couldn’t leave the bed for a week after! But she can walk around alright again! And Blissey even said that if her condition improves like it has been doing for the last months, she might be almost okay again by next spring. If winter’s not too rough, of course. But mama said she’s gonna be careful!” A big smile graces the young Pokémon’s face, and for once, Darkrai keeps back from making a snarky comment, be it in his head or out loud. He might greatly dislike the two brothers, but he would not wish on them to become orphaned.

“That is very good news, indeed.” Dareios nods to himself. Then, he brightens visibly. “In any way, do you two like sweets? Because I need to borrow my cousin for just a little while, but we cannot have you two be completely alone, so perhaps having the company of confectionary might suffice.”

“I love sweets!” Azurill shouts, so loud that it might just have been heard throughout the entire town. The kid probably stopped listening the moment sweets were mentioned. Marill nods, trying to keep calmer, but it is obvious that even he cannot truly keep still while thinking about the promised confectionary.

“Well, then sweets you will get,” Dareios says with a snicker, and then floats up a little to make a grab for a wooden box which Darkrai knows (from experience) to hold what he promised the children. Dareios has a sweet tooth, Darkrai learnt after spending much of his last years next to him.

And Darkrai… well, sweet food is still better than sour food, and Dareios has good taste in it.

Not that Darkrai ever took any of the confectionary out or anything when the other was not looking.

Dareios, meanwhile, has grabbed the box off its high shelf and handed it over to the two children, who pounce on its contents like the starving little beasts they are. Dareios and Darkrai seem forgotten, except for a small comment Marill makes that sounds like a ‘Thanks’, if one were to say it with a full mouth.

Darkrai uses their momentary distraction to questioningly look at Dareios, since, to be entirely honest, he has no idea what the other would need his presence for. He is not going to make him pay for housing the two kids at the bank for the day, right?

No, that would not make any sense. Dareios may be a banker, but he is incredibly generous, at least when it comes to Darkrai. The years they spent seeing each other almost daily, he never once asked Darkrai to pay for anything – not the little cave he basically gave him as a place to live, not the food and drink they would sometimes share, and when Darkrai took over at the bank, he would always pay him. Not much, but still, he would. So, no, this is most likely not about money.

So does Dareios want to go somewhere and Darkrai shall take over the bank for him meanwhile? But that is also rather unlikely. Most business happens in the morning and evening, when the explorers are either about to go to or return from Dungeons.  Besides, then he would not claim to need to ‘borrow’ Darkrai, but simply ask him to mind the counter for a little while.

“I can see you overthinking things, Cousin Darcy,” Dareios snickers, floating out of the tent again. Darkrai follows, choosing to ignore that falsehood. He does not overthink. He thinks exactly the right amount.

For a few moments, the sun blinds him, and he blinks a few times to get his eye to adjust. It is autumn already, darn it, why is the sun still so obnoxious? Except for the few days making him believe that autumn was here some time ago, it has still been much too warm and sunny. The last years, summer never held on for quite so long.

“But do not worry,” the ghost continues after a pause, “I am not about to admonish you or anything. Although I do think that your behaviour towards Pearl today might have been a little uncalled for.”

“I am always mean, you know that.”

“Prickly. You are always prickly. That is not the same as being mean. But alas, it is in the past by now, and bury the past we must, to rest forever unchanged.” He snickers. Darkrai dares not join in, because these words, while not necessarily implying anything, just hit a little too close to home.

Darkrai says nothing.

“Perhaps you should take her aside after she returns and talk about the mounting frustrations which always arise in friendships when not talked about early on. Like this, you could spare yourself a later fight, who knows.”

Darkrai scoffs. “Pearl and I do not fight. She would not dare—, We just do not fight.”

“Of course, of course.” The ghost sways from right to left, and left to right. “But as I said, I do not want to admonish you. Just take the advice to talk about your emotions now and then from this old ghost.”

Not willing to engage in any of the other parts of what Dareios said, Darkrai asks, “Who is old, you?” in a tone that tells the other that, when put next to Darkrai, Dareios is most certainly not old.

Dareios laughs, “Old I am, indeed! Just not ancient, like a certain cousin of mine.”

Darkrai rolls his eye, for once noticing that this is just playful banter. “Yes, yes, I was indeed already old when temples that are only ruins today were built.” Funnily enough, that is not a hyperbole.

“And when the moon first shone, you were already walking the planet, I know,” Dareios snickers. And then, unexpectedly, he sighs. “Say, how many times have you been asked about your relations today?”

“Do you… Do you simply want to gossip, Dareios?” Darkrai asks, understanding dawning. “About a certain new ghost-type in this town?”

Dareios snickers. “Perhaps I do, perhaps I don’t. Perhaps I am very annoyed that I am being asked about my relation with this certain other ghost almost constantly, and want to seem very deep in conversation to those who walk past my bank, intending to ask a certain question.”

For a second, Darkrai does not answer. Then, noticing a Karrablast looking their way, as if it is thinking about walking over and asking that thrice cursed question… He shoots it an icy look, which makes it yelp and run off.

“Or perhaps,” Dareios says, and this time, he does not merely snicker, but instead laughs, “I was counting on your ability to do that.”

 

“We got it back!” someone shouts, making Darkrai violently jerk out of the semi-meditation he had found himself in.

It is something he tended to do when he needed to pass time, but also feel like he used it somewhat productively. He had not done it for a long while, but today was a day he needed it. After all, he would not spend it constantly talking to Azurill and Marill. Thank you, but no.

In any way, he feels his body jerk involuntarily, and angrily stares at whoever does not know how to keep their voice down – it happens to be Pearl, of course. She is holding something that looks remarkably like a Water Float and is grinning widely.

Seeing her approach, Darkrai stands up and wipes away some of the sand he just sat in. Most of the day, the brothers and he spent at the bank, but in the late afternoon, they decided to move to the beach, asking Dareios to tell Pearl and Dusknoir where they are, please and thank you.

Seems like the ghost did as he was told. With how good he is at following orders, he would make a great henchman. If only he did not insist on snickering all the time.

Finding Darkrai and the children cannot have been hard for Dusknoir and Pearl, once they arrived. About an hour ago, some other residents were still here, but now that the sun is once again dipping towards the horizon, all but Darkrai and the brothers have left.

Generally, Darkrai would say that it was a good idea, if only there had not been some wind blowing, and now he’s got sand in his hair. Which means that, in the evening, he will have to sneak away for a while to brush everything out. How bothersome.

“Yay! You really got it back! Thank you so much!” Azurill cries, and Marill, tears glistening in his eyes, says, “I really don’t know how to repay you, all three of you! Thank you! First you saved Azurill and now you got our Water Float back after we’ve been searching for so long…”

“Hey, there’s really no need to repay us! It’s what everyone would’ve done, well, except for Darcy,” Pearl says, throwing him a dirty glance.

Excuse him?! What is this uncalled-for discourteousness?!

“Now, Pearl, Duskull merely recognized his own limits,” Dusknoir speaks up, once again in that calming, friendly tone that Darkrai has come to hate after not even a day, “There is no shame in that. Besides, he was right, it truly was a trap.”

That makes Darkrai perk up. “Obviously,” he claims, “Recognizing traps is not hard if they are so obvious.”

“Well, then what—” Pearl starts, but gets interrupted by a giddy Azurill.

“We gotta tell mama!”

“Yeah!” Marill agrees, “She’ll be so happy!”

“You two will be alright returning on your own? It’s soon to get dark,” Dusknoir asks, looking at the two kids, his arms held behind his back. It gives him a calm, but imposing aura.

… Braggard.

“Yeah, no problem! We don’t live too far away,” Marill explains, “And also, we can’t trouble you any further. You helped us so much!”

“It truly was no trouble,” Dusknoir answers, which earns two smiles from Azurill and Marill.

“Then we’ll be off! Thank you so much again, Pearl and Mr. Dusknoir. And thank you for spending the day with us, Mr. Duskull!” Marill says, and Azurill hurries to repeat, “Yeah, thank you!” And with that, the two turn around and hurry off.

Good riddance.

Darkrai should probably also tell Dusknoir that Pearl and he will now return to the guild, but… There is one thing he does want to know more about.

“So, the trap…”

“Ah, yes. It seems that you were right about… What was their name again, Team Skull?” Darkrai nods, and Dusknoir continues. “Well, they had indeed written the message. Their plan was… well… Rather simple.” He pauses for a moment, and Darkrai realizes that this is a pause for dramatic effect. How very… basic. Finally, Dusknoir continues. “They counted on the Pokémon who live at the end of the Amp Plains to attack those who walked into their territory, that they would see them as aggressors.”

Darkrai wracks his brain. Pokémon having taken residence there…? Ah, was there not something about a tribe of… Luxray or something attacking a tribe of… hm, other electric-types two years ago? If there was anything like that, he only heard it as passing conversation while working at the bank.

And so, he asks, “You would not happen to mean a tribe of Luxray and it’s pre-evolutionary forms?”

Dusknoir shakes his head. “No, Manectric and Electrike. As far as I had heard they were attacked—”

“Two years ago, yes, I remember now. By an outsider tribe of Luxray, it was that way around.”

Pearl forces herself into the conversation. “And that made them super aggressive! Dusknoir and I actually had to battle them because they would not calm down on their own. Dusknoir is honestly incredibly strong.” And then, for no reason that Darkrai can understand, she adds, “Definitely stronger than you.”

What is it with this rudeness? He has not made fun of her in any way, and still, she feels the need to constantly make sharp comments! How… infuriating. Darkrai carefully keeps his confusion – and also slight anger, he can admit – out of his face as he answers. “Obviously. I am unevolved, he is not. Which is why I did not go to the Amp Plains to fight an entire tribe of electric-types.”

“Yeah, like a coward.”

… What.

Darkrai stares at Pearl, narrowing his eye.

“I understand that there seems to be some animosity on your end,” he calmly tells her, “But I would kindly ask you to keep that to yourself for the moment, because I, for one, am not looking forward to arguing in front of a venerated explorer like Dusknoir.” He points into the direction of the other, who has the gall to look surprised. Darkrai is honestly getting annoyed with him, too, or maybe his annoyance of Pearl is about to spill over.

… Or he was already annoyed to begin with. Who knows.

Still, it is true – he does not want to argue in front of someone he is almost completely sure is not actually a friendly explorer.

Pearl harrumphs, but says nothing more, instead crossing her arms and staring at the dipping sun.

Wonderful. And on that note…

He turns towards Dusknoir, and in the most polite voice he can muster, says. “We two will be taking our leave now, we need to return to the guild before the sun disappears.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Dusknoir responds, cordial as always. “Don’t let me keep you back!”

Darkrai was not planning that, anyways.

Pearl stares at Dusknoir and then forces a clearly not entirely real grin on her face. “Thank you for your help again, Dusknoir! Without you, I definitely would not have made it to the end of the Dungeon.”

And once again, a comment on Darkrai staying behind. This is starting to give him a headache. He does not react in any way.

“As I said, it was no problem at all! For a young water-type, you fought very well!”

“Thank you.” This time, her smile seems more genuine.

“Well, in any way, I am sure that we will soon meet again. Until then, I bid you a pleasant goodbye.”

Darkrai wants to scoff. This is definitely the Dusknoir from the future, no one else would have such an innate talent for licking everyone else’s boots while making it seem like he is being helpful for doing so.

Darkrai does not fall for it, of course. Instead, he turns around, not bidding the other goodbye in turn, and starts on his way back to the guild.

Pearl follows with some delay, and the entire way back to the guild remains a few steps behind. Suits him, he is in no mood to talk to her, anymore. Probably will not be for the next days, but he will have to talk to her and ugh, sometimes, he truly regrets this plan of his. He should have just remained in the shadows and only come out to take revenge but…

It is no proper revenge if he only kills her in a physical sense. Sure, he could do so out of nowhere, could even easily kill her now, but then she would never know what she died for. That is not revenge.

He might have been satisfied with a simple kill in the beginning, when he still did not even know her name, when he initially attacked Grovyle and her, when he was merely trying to keep them from changing the future he wished for – but now, it has become personal, and simply acting like he did before is not enough.

Now, it needs to be a proper revenge. And for that, there will have to be betrayal, and hurt, and the realization that she was helping the villain (in everyone else’s eyes) all along.

Unfortunately, that needs him to stay her friend. And he has just the right idea of what to say to make her look at him positively again – it is not something he likes to say, not something he looks forward to lying about, but he would sacrifice almost everything for his revenge to be satisfactory. Even demean himself.

… Sometimes.

And so, while they are walking up the stairs to the guild – the sun has not quite set, which means that they still have five, perhaps ten minutes before Chatot chastises them for arriving too late – he stops and stares ahead. Behind him, he can hear Pearl stop in turn, and before she can ask him what is wrong, he speaks up.

“I was… afraid,” he lies. “I know that this is no reason not to go into a Mystery Dungeon, that as explorers, we should always strive to face our fears but… I have been at the Amp Plains before, and I…” Here, he makes a pause, as if thinking about his words, as if not sure if he truly should tell her what is, supposedly, on his mind. Then, when the pause has almost gotten too long, he continues, “Well, I got knocked out, not even two floors in. I lost almost everything in my possession and if I had not reached Treasure Town soon after, if Dareios had not helped me immediately… I do not know what would have happened.”

After this sentence, he turns around to face Pearl, who is standing two steps beneath him. She seems even smaller than normally now. He takes a deep breath. “Because of this, I was-, or rather, I am afraid of this Dungeon.”

Now, in truth, he has never been there. Does not plan on ever going there. But for Pearl to trust him… Well, sometimes he needs to give her a little push, and what better way than a sob-story about past hurts. Especially since she has shown herself interested in his past a few times now. Best to give her something before she even has to ask.

She does not answer, and when the silence grows uncomfortable, Darkrai adds, “I should have told you earlier, I know. I just did not want to do so in front of others, and I… do not like talking about things of the past.” This, at least, is not a lie.

Finally, he gets a reaction out of her – a small huff, as if what he told her was an insult.

“Yeah, I know. Everyone knows. And you should feel bad! I’m… I am your friend, Darcy, okay? This… Our friendship doesn’t just go one way – you don’t have to be there for me all the time but never have me be there for you.”

Oh no. He made her go all sappy. That is definitely not what he wanted.

“Yes, yes, I know.”

“Do you really?” she asks, big eyes looking at him as she walks up a few of the steps until they are roughly at eye level. “Because knowing and acting on that knowledge are different things. But, well…” She sighs. “Just… don’t keep something like that secret from me again, okay?”

“Of course, I promise you that,” he assures, knowing exactly how much his word means. Fortunately, Pearl does not.

“Well, then…” For a second, she stares at the sun, dipping completely beneath the horizon. Finally, she looks at him again. “I guess we should hurry back, or else Chatot will shout at us.” She chuckles. It does not sound like she means it.

“He would,” he agrees, and with that, they walk again, things between them now hopefully straightened out for the foreseeable. Oh, Darkrai won’t lie to himself – there is most definitely still some pent-up irritation present, figurative pockets of embers hidden somewhere in Pearl’s thoughts… But for today, at least, he does not need to deal with that. No, for today, both of them will pretend to be the best of friends again, and nothing will change at all.

 

“Now, I know that all of you desperately want to start dinner, but there are two things I must share with you.” It is, of course, Chatot who spoke these words, once again ruining Darkrai’s already ruined day a little more. He just wants to eat. Just because he could, technically go up to a month without food (at least when not having a constantly draining illusion to maintain) and not feel too many ill-effects from that does not mean that he wants to do so.

He actually likes eating on a regular basis, thank you very much. Which raises the question of why, exactly, Chatot feels the need to keep him from doing so.

“The first thing being that – as we have just received word – another Time Gear was stolen!”

And there the guild’s members go, being frantic as usual. Darkrai would never behave like that because of news like this – except if it was the Time Gear at Fogbound Lake, perhaps. Because then, Uxie would be absolutely livid with him for supposedly not ensuring that no members of the guild tell anyone, and Darkrai has had enough of Uxie, angry or not, for the next few decades.

“Uh, is it…” Bidoof shyly asks through the frantic shouts of almost everyone, “Is it the one from Fogbound Lake?”

Chatot shakes his head. “No, it was not – now, I cannot give you its exact position, but it was from elsewhere.”

Darkrai may live to see another day.

“Still, this is the second Time Gear stolen, in under three months! If a third was taken… I do not know what we would have to do, but we could not let it continue.”

“Especially since with two Gears being stolen, the chances of it being an isolated incident are very small,” Croagunk adds, which… may actually be the first time Darkrai has heard him speak.

“Exactly,” Chatot agrees. “And, of course, I have full confidence in all of you,” He assures them, and Darkrai, having been on the receiving end of that ‘full confidence’ does not at all agree, “But I must make it very clear: Never, under any circumstances, tell anyone what you witnessed during our expedition! Do not tell your families because you think them trustworthy, do not tell friends from outside the guild because you believe that they would never tell a secret, do not even tell the story as if it was told to you by someone else. Never tell it! Understood?”

“Of course!”

“I don’t have a big mouth!”

“I’d never break that promise!”

“You can count on me!”

“I swear on my life!”

Bidoof’s last cry makes everyone else stop in their tracks.

“Uhm… Bidoof, while it does make all of us happy to hear that, you really do not need to swear on your life.”

Darkrai, feeling vindictive today and not bothering to keep that hidden, speaks up. “No, no, let him do so. It builds character to swear on it, I have been told. Then again, I am a ghost, so perhaps I am not the best to ask about things like life.”

There is an expected silence, until Chimecho, carefully, asks, “Was that… Did you… Did you just make a joke, Duskull?”

And her comment opens the gateways for others to seemingly lose everything.

“Duskull made a joke, everyone!”

“The world’s ending, I tell you…”

“…That was actually kinda funny.”

And, of course, there are some laughs – some forced, some undignified, all decidedly too loud. Darkrai should have just kept silent. At least, it raises the mood in the room, and everyone is just about to start eating, when—

“I said two things, everyone!” Chatot crows. Ugh.

“Just let us EAT!” Loudred shouts, which earns him a murderous glare from Chatot. The stupid Pokémon audible gulps and looks away.

“I will make it quick, since I want to eat as well. As most of you may have gathered, we have not yet found the culprit behind the nightly bad dreams. We are still looking into it, since some of you asked, but have not found anything so far. So, if any of you have any ideas at all, no matter how farfetched they might seem to you, please tell—”

“You can’t HONESTLY think that any of US would do it?!” Loudred interrupts again, only to be sent murderous glares by most of the guild’s members, this time. Darkrai included. The other just does not know how to keep quiet, ugh.

“Silence! And no, I don’t think that – that’s something I want to emphasize: We’ve investigated everyone here in the guild, and no one is behind it.”

“Good! No one here would ever be so villainous!” Chimecho claims, and oh, how wrong she is. Still, her trust in even him is flattering.

“Not to point fingers – we trust all of you, but…” Dugtrio starts, and a sentence that starts like that cannot end well (especially since Dugtrio don’t have fingers, as far as Darkrai knows), “Can’t Duskull learn Nightmare?”

Suddenly, all attention is on Darkrai.

He rolls his eye. This day is rotten and he wants it to end already. But no, it cannot be so, someone still distrusts him even in this environment of friendliness.

“Yes, and Dugtrio can learn Earthquake. Does that make you responsible if one hits the town?” he shoots back.

Dugtrio is about to reply, when Chatot cries out, “Dugtrio, Duskull, quiet!”

While it does make Darkrai and Dugtrio fall silent, Chatot’s words come too late for everyone else – a heated discussion about Darkrai’s guilt has already started. Suddenly, everyone knows more about him than he himself does, and they collect evidence against or for him being behind the nightmares.

“Just because he could learn the move doesn’t mean he knows it!”

“He’s never seemed tired at morning! He probably doesn’t have any nightmares!”

“Maybe he’s just better at dealing with them than you!”

“Don’t Ghost Pokémon love pranking other People? It could just be a very bad prank…”

“But if he was behind it, wouldn’t Piplup have the worst nightmares of us all, since she’s sleeping right beside him?”

“Hey, if it’s his fault, then why doesn’t—“

“But he never—"

“I remember that he once said—“

“He can sometimes be really mean, but he wouldn’t—“

All of a sudden, everyone falls silent as the whole room starts shaking. An earthquake, right now? What are the chances, really?

“OH NO!” Chatot cries out loudly, which makes all gazes snap at him. And Chatot himself is looking at...

Wigglytuff.

Oh no.

“Everyone, come on, you have to be cheerful!” Chatot tries, “We’d never argue with our friends after all, you hear that, Guildmaster? No one here is arguing!”

Wigglytuff does not seem to hear him, instead concentrating on scrunching his eyes closed and flattening his ears to his head. For just a moment, Darkrai wonders what it would be like if Wigglytuff were left to truly… let his anger or whatever is rising within him to get the best of him. Chatot does not want that to happen, and from all the happy assurances he can hear from the others around him, they do not want it either, but still, he cannot help but wonder.

Would Wigglytuff destroy parts of the guild? Attack those he deems friends?

As the room stops shaking, Darkrai still stares at the once again calm Wigglytuff. As the other opens his eyes and smiles once again, their eyes meet, and Darkrai cannot be sure, but for a moment, it almost seems like Wigglytuff’s smile… falters. Perhaps he imagines it, but for just the smallest moment…

He shakes his head. It does not matter, anyways. Wigglytuff is physically capable of not smiling once in a while, so why should he not do so after almost having fallen into rage just now? It does not matter, in any way.

As he looks to his side, he can see Pearl staring at him, and he barely keeps from jumping in surprise. Normally… Normally he notices that she watches him.

He returns her gaze. Pearl sighs, for some reason, and then avert her gaze.

Should he worry about her strange behaviour? No, he decides. He really cannot be bothered today, anymore.

 

“Darcy, are you… asleep yet?” Pearl’s whisper breaks through the night. Darkrai is not sure if he should answer or act as if he is actually asleep. It is the middle of the night, after all – a new moon, to be exact. On these nights, more often than not, he cannot find sleep, even if he tried.

Not that he is trying very hard, today. He is not in the mood for nightmares.

“Guess you are,” Pearl whispers, and this time, Darkrai can hear some humour in her voice. After that, there is silence, and Darkrai thinks if, perhaps, he should answer. Act as if she woke him up and he needed to get himself together.

“You know, I sometimes wonder why you even wanted to join the guild…” Pearl whispers, and that decides it, Darkrai is going to pretend very earnestly to sleep. If she continues to talk to him, while thinking him unable to hear her, she might say things she would not under different circumstances.

“Because I don’t think you actually like helping others, do you?” She sighs, still careful to keep her voice down. He can hear some rustling, as if she is lying down in a new position, but does not react to it. Instead, he keeps his eyes closed and makes sure to keep his breathing deep and slow.

… Do ghost-types breath? Can anyone see through his illusion that he is breathing? Hear it?

“Or maybe you are trying to like it for some reason, but…” she trails off. “You really don’t share much with me about who you were before we met. And don’t think I won’t tell you that again once you are awake. I just… well, I guess I’m practicing what I’m going to say to you once I find the courage for it.”

Another sigh.

“I should probably go to sleep, but I already know what I’m going to dream about, and… I figure that you feel the same when going to sleep, so I don’t have to explain. Not that you actually heard any of that.” A small chuckle, and then once again the sound of her rearranging herself on her bed. “Well… good night, I guess. I hope that you’ll have a good dreams, just this once.”

Notes:

Okay, so, first of all, once again, sorry that this chapter was late. For the longest time, I did not edit it, not because I did not have time but because I simply... did not want to. Around a week ago, I realized that I had not yet edited it because I was not satisfied with the way it was, and so, it was scrapped entirely and rewritten.

This is the reason for it being late, and why the next chapter might also be late - I am rewriting huge chunks of the story to realign with the new ideas I had, which obviously takes time. And since I am a firm believer of quality over quantity, this might mean that the chapter will be late - I will try my best not to let that happen, but I am not a seer (unfortunately).

The chapter might seem a little rough around the edges, which is also because of it having been written during the last week, and some parts only having been edited once or twice (normally, I edit up to at least seven times or more). So, yeah.

I'm also not happy with the chapter title, but honestly, I just want to post the chapter today so that you all may not have to wait too long, haha. It might change it if I suddenly have an idea for a better one.

Anyways, have a good rest of the week and a good month in general!
PS: Also, this fic now has over 1000 Hits! Thank you so much everyone!

Edit Hiatus Update (24.10.2022):
Hah. That’s where it really started for past-me, isn’t it. And now here I am, on a hiatus, editing my past chapters. Hilarious. Also, don’t know what issue past-me had with the chapter title, I like it.
Also love finding foreshadowing for things which have not even happened 200.000 words into the fic. Past-me sometimes does know what they’re doing.
Not much editing in this chapter – mostly just getting rid of some mistakes, or making for a more fluent reading experience, but that’s pretty much it.

Chapter 10: Stolen Time

Summary:

Last Chapter: There was a new addition to Treasure Town’s populace, Dusknoir, a renown explorer. Pearl and Darkrai were then asked for help by Marill and Azurill, who’s item had been stolen and supposedly been put at the end of a Dungeon. Pearl wanted to help immediately, however, Darkrai refused to go into a Dungeon where he suspected a trap. Dusknoir then offered to accompany Pearl instead, a offer she took him up on. Darkrai remained in town, watching Marill and Azurill, against his will. At the end of the day, Pearl and Dusknoir returned successfully, Pearl and Darkrai had a small argument, Darkrai lied a little to Pearl to smooth things over, oh, and they also learnt that yet another Time Gear had been stolen.

Notes:

First of all, CandlitNights drew fanart for this story, and it is AMAZING! Please check it out and tell them how amazing they are! You can find it here: https://www.deviantart.com/missowlit/art/A-Veil-of-Lies-877451444
I'm still not over the fact that someone literally drew fanart for 'lil ol' me?? So yeah, haha, please check it out!

Secondly, the fic now has over 100 kudos, thank you SO MUCH everyone! With how (considerably) small the fandom is, I didn't allow myself to think I'd ever get to that number, and even IF that happened, that it wouldn't happen before I even published 10 chapters. So yeah, thank you, again.

(Also, it has 69 comments atm and 66966 words, which, in my humble opinion, should be written down and remembered for the ages)

Lastly - there will be more in the End Notes, of course - but this chapter is... not quite unedited, but still a little rough around the edges. There might also still be a few typos, which I will deal with once I've got more time, again. But I just did not want to let this Hiatus continue any longer, so I decided to post it as it is and stop worrying so damn much. So yeah, enjoy!
(Edit Hiatus Update: Well, guess it’s finally time.)

Uxie is going to kill him. The type advantage he has over the other does not matter, the unwritten rules of conduct between Legendaries do not matter, whatever excuse Darkrai can come up with does not matter – Uxie will kill him. And for once, Darkrai can almost understand him.

Truly, he would do the same if he was in Uxie’s position. Unfortunately for Darkrai, though, he is the one who will be killed soon.

And that… is not ideal.

The only thing Darkrai can think of doing now is, well, damage control. Which means finding out who was the blabbermouth who unwittingly set Darkrai up to be killed by Uxie. He looks at all the members of the guild, assembled around the Outlaw Notice Board in the guild’s first sublevel. Most of them seem shocked by the news they were just told. Those who do not simply lack the facial features to be read properly. So, in conclusion, everyone seems shocked.

But one of them – at least one – must have blabbed. Maybe not maliciously, but he knows the guild’s members, and their general IQ is generally… to be counted around single digits.

So who was it?

“But… but none of us would ever tell anyone!” Sunflora cries out loud, and how naïve she is. Blind trust will always leave you grasping at the broken fragments of what you believed in.

Darkrai scoffs out loud, drawing all gazes, as usual. “Well, then do tell us, Sunflora, how else the thief,” at these words, he stares pointedly at the Wanted-Poster up on the board, depicting a certain Grovyle, “Could have learnt of the Time Gear’s position. I would be interested to know, since Uxie has managed to keep its location hidden for centuries, and now, just weeks after we ran into him…”

It is Dugtrio who jumps to Sunflora’s defense – if that is because he shares her opinion, is offended on her behalf, or simply dislikes Darkrai, he does not know or care about. “There are numerous different ways for that to happen! We found Fogbound Lake without anyone telling us where it is, why should the thief not be able to do it, too?”

“We were a group of a dozen Pokémon,” Darkrai huffs, “Of course we found it. So how, exactly, would a lone Grovyle be able to do the same and more?”

“Hey, then what are you saying? That one of us must’ve told the thief?! Don’t trust your fellow members, hey hey?!” Corpish shouts, affronted.

“Of course I trust all of you,” Darkrai backtracks, intending to smooth the rising tensions just a little, “However, I fear that one of you might have unwittingly dropped some hints to someone else, thereby betraying Uxie’s trust.”

These words do calm some of them, but a few still shoot him angry glances. Well, he does not care. One of them is at fault for Uxie soon killing Darkrai. The least they can do is own up to it.

“Just one moment! I am afraid that I am awfully confused…” a deep voice speaks up. It is, of course, Dusknoir. Who has taken to hovering around Pearl and Darkrai regularly, ever since Pearl and he went to get the Water Float back. Darkrai does not even want to think about that topic, because there are so many implications to Dusknoir’s changed behaviour… Well. He won’t go into that now, there are other arguments to be had.

And since the ghost stuck to Pearl and Darkrai like feathers to tar, it obviously meant that he followed them when Bidoof fetched the two of them because of bad news. And since he is the venerated explorer Dusknoir, no one saw a problem with him joining the meeting. Seems like no one in the guild learnt the slightest lesson from Team Skull.

Not that Darkrai is sure what even happened to them during the expedition, but they did not join them on the way back, which was very conspicuous indeed. And suspicious, too. Maybe, if he had gone to the Amp Plains, he would have learnt the reason for that, but… Not a big loss.

In any way, Dusknoir is here now, seemingly intent on annoying Darkrai. As he had done every day before. “If I may ask, the one you just mentioned – Uxie? Do you mean the Legendary Uxie?”

“Do you know of any Non-Legendary Uxie?” Darkrai asks back – which, alright, he can admit, might be a little flippant, but Dusknoir has been bothering him for over a week now, he is allowed to be flippant.

Dusknoir laughs. By now, Darkrai is perfectly able to hear the falseness within it, but unfortunately, no one else seems to be. And so, they just take it as him being good-natured, as usual. If it would not be too obvious if Dusknoir went missing, Darkrai might just have plunged him into an endless nightmare days ago.

“Of course, you are quite right, Duskull. So you all met a Legendary? And it is him who guards a Time Gear?”

Darkrai almost corrects to ‘guarded’, but stops himself in the last second. Antagonizing Dusknoir under the guise of ‘making jokes’ when it is only him, Pearl and Darkrai is alright. Antagonizing him when the entire guild can witness it? Not so smart.

Instead of Darkrai, Chatot answers. “Indeed, at Fogbound Lake. He made all of us promise not to tell his secret, which is why we told everyone that we did not manage to find Fogbound Lake, but now… the Time Gear was still stolen.” Chatot sighs. “At least we now know the thief’s identity, which is a big step forward.”

That identity being, of course, Grovyle, previous partner and best friend of Pearl. Not that any of that was surprising – Darkrai was quite sure that, at some point, the other’s identity would be revealed. It is just so very unfortunate that he had to steal Uxie’s Time Gear. Darkrai quite likes living. Not that saying so would stop Uxie from killing him.

“Is Uxie safe?” Pearl asks, always worried about others, whether they deserve her care or not. Although Darkrai would, for once, also like to know the answer. Not because he thinks that Grovyle will attack Uxie again, or because he might think that Uxie was hurt too badly – no, he just wants to know how much longer he might have before Uxie kills him.

“Yes, yes!” Chatot says, flapping his wings, “The moment news of the attack got out, Officer Magnezone and his deputies ensured his safety. He had some wounds, but they have been treated and he is currently with the Officer. He is doing much better already!”

“Can we, uh, could we maybe visit him?” Bidoof asks, weeping heart that he is. Chatot shakes his head.

“For now, it is best if we just let him heal! He did ask for someone to see him, but I will talk that over with them personally later. But do not worry too much, Uxie is not in any immediate danger!”

Bidoof sighs in relief, as do a few others. There are some murmurs, the most prominent being Sunflora, who states, “Even though I know that it wasn’t our fault that the Gear got stolen,” she shoots Darkrai a dirty glance, “I still feel so bad for it. We promised Uxie!”

This sentiment immediately gets echoed by most guild members, even Wigglytuff. Who seems as if he is about to cry, which is honestly disgusting. If he actually does so, Darkrai might just… spare Uxie the trouble of murdering him and commit suicide instead.

Or not. He quite likes living.

A sudden cry of “Yoom Tah!”, whatever that is supposed to mean, draws everyone out of their gloomy mood. The speaker of such nonsense was Wigglytuff. Who else, really.

“Everyone! Cheer up! On the name of Wigglytuff’s Guild, I vow that we will catch Grovyle!”

Chatot squawks in what is most likely surprise, but after a moment of gathering himself takes the word. “That’s right! From here on out, we are putting our full focus on capturing Grovyle!”

That is… unwise. They do not know how strong he is, except for ‘strong enough to beat a Legendary Pokémon’, and still, they just want to send their members to capture him? That just spells disaster, but then again, who cares? Not Darkrai. They can get themselves killed, for all he cares, and he would not shed a tear.

As everyone calls out how much they want to catch Grovyle, Dusknoir speaks up once again. “I will join in your guild’s pursuit of Grovyle. A depraved criminal such as him cannot be allowed to go free any longer.”

Hah! Darkrai would laugh out loud, if he could. That joke was actually almost funny – not that Dusknoir is aware that he was not the only one to realize the humour hidden within his words.

Wigglytuff, once again, tears up. “Th-thank you so much, Dusknoir!”

Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. Everyone’s inability to tell truth from lies is just absolutely disgusting. If it had not served Darkrai so well during the last few years, he would almost insist on giving them a lecture on how to spot a liar.

“Splendid!” Chatot crows, and then, once the ‘thank you’s toward Dusknoir have died down, continues, “Now, we obviously need a strategy for capturing Grovyle, so everyone, please prepare for heading out soon while the Guildmaster and I decide on our further actions. You are dismissed for now, but return in one hour! Prepare as if you are going on an expedition again!”

And with that, finally, everyone starts filing out. Darkrai is about to do just that when—

“Team Sky, if you could remain behind a moment?” Chatot’s voice, surprisingly much friendlier than normally, calls them back. Because obviously, they cannot just be allowed to leave, like everyone else. How many times has it been now that they have been called back like this?

(Darkrai chooses to ignore that it happens to the other members as well, because as long as it is not him, there is no need to acknowledge it, is there?)

But why are they being kept behind, this time? Is this because they are, at least when it comes to joining the guild, the most junior team? Does Chatot think them incapable of joining the hunt for Grovyle and wants to break the news in a friendly way?

Actually, Darkrai would like that. He is not in the mood to come into contact with more Pokémon from the future. Two are enough. He really does not want to meet the one he may have tried to kill, before.

Darkrai floats up to Chatot and Wigglytuff once again, noticing that Dusknoir is still here, apparently waiting for Pearl and Darkrai. They are not a team of three, darn it. Unfortunately, Chatot does not seem to have a problem with the ghost remaining, and instead speaks up.

“You are probably wondering why I held you back.”

Pearl nods. Darkrai concentrates on not seeming too annoyed.

“Well, Uxie asked to see you, Duskull,” Chatot says, turning towards Darkrai. “He was very insistent that you appear as soon as possible, and since the two of you also, uh, talked, last time…”

“Yes, yes,” Darkrai answers, feeling a shudder go down his back, “I already have an idea what it is about.”

Seems like his chances of survival are declining rapidly.

“Well, then I’d advise you to head out and use the hour to talk whatever you two need to talk about!” Chatot crows, and then flutters his wings, his normal sign for ‘get out of my eyes’.

Darkrai does just that, not caring if Pearl (and Dusknoir) follow. If they do not, he would rather wait outside than remain next to Chatot and Wigglytuff.

Today is, once again, turning out to be an annoying day. This seems to be an ongoing theme ever since he joined the guild and sometimes, he wishes he could go back in time once again, just to relieve the relative peace that simply living in Trash Town granted him.

Unfortunately, the way he arrived in the past was not enjoyable, zero out of five, would not travel like that again.

“Darcy, wait for me!” Pearl cries behind him, and huh, seems like he got further than intended without stopping. Because turning around to face her, he notices that he is already half the way down the stairs leading away from the guild, while she and Dusknoir are still at the top. He was… busy, thinking. His body just carried him onwards.

“I do not want to make Uxie wait too long,” he states as an explanation for it, instead. Which is very much not true, but only Darkrai needs to know that.

Besides, if he can get away from Pearl and Dusknoir with that explanation, great! And then, once he is away from them… he will absolutely not visit Uxie. Oh no, he will simply wait out the hour and return after it’s over, act as if he talked with Uxie, and move on with his life. Maybe he will simply visit Uxie at night, when it will be easier for Darkrai to get away, if need be.

Which there will most likely be.

Pearl, meanwhile, has hurried down the stairs, Dusknoir closely behind her, until she had reached his side. Darkrai starts his way down again.

“So, Chatot said that Uxie is still staying with Officer Magnezone, right? Like, at his station?” At the edge of his vision, he can see Pearl looking at him.

He just stares ahead as he answers. “Correct. Although, do you truly want to accompany me? Uxie and I will talk about something private, meaning that you will simply have to wait outside for a long while.”

Pearl snorts. “I mean, yeah, but what else do you want me to do?”

That makes Darkrai stop for a moment, and look at her. Then, he starts moving again, just as he answers. “You could gather whatever we might need for some exploring.”

“Which would entail you giving me our bag, and like, I’d gladly take it! But last time I carried it you acted like I killed your entire family or something, when you got it back.”

“You put everything inside it into complete disarray,” Darkrai huffs, “I was not being dramatic, you were making the bag a battlefield.” A battlefield with no survivors. He needed the entire evening to put everything into its proper place again.

“It wasn’t that chaotic! Besides, I had a system! I still knew where everything was!”

“Well, but no one else did! A system only you understand is no proper system at all.”

Pearl laughs out loud. “So, in conclusion, do you really want to give me the bag again?”

Darkrai grumbles. She is, unfortunately, right. He does not. But he also does not want to meet Uxie, which is something he will unfortunately have to do if she comes along.

“I could perhaps gather whatever you need from town for the two of you, and give it to you once we meet up at the guild again? That way, you do not need to cut your conversation with Uxie short to hurry to town, and you can then arrange the items in your bag however you like,” Dusknoir politely offers and great, just great. Just gang up on him. More often than not, Darkrai imagines himself attacking Dusknoir, forcing the other to show his true self – but then he realizes that most likely, that would end with Darkrai being painted as the bad guy, and as such, he will have to continue to hold back.

“You don’t have to!” Pearl cries, and then, hurriedly, adds, “But we’d be really thankful if you did! I… know that Uxie does not really want to see anyone beside Darcy, but I just… I feel really bad, you know? So I want to make sure that he really is alright. Well, as alright as he can be.”

“It is settled, then!” Dusknoir laughs, “Do not worry about anything, I think after a week I know which items you would prefer! We will meet again at the guild!” And with that, he floats towards the town, while Darkrai and Pearl turn into the direction of Officer Magnezone’s… whatever. Jail, prison, gaol, perhaps just office. Darkrai has not been there, yet, he would not know.

It is situated to the southeast of the town and guild, maybe a walk of five minutes through a path in the small forest, he had been told when they initially joined the guild. Pearl chatters about unimportant things on the way, and Darkrai hums at the moments that seem right, to make her believe that he is listening. Judging by a long gaze she gives him at one point, he might not be too successful at it.

Well, who can fault him? He is about to die.

Fortunately, soon, the building, whatever its official name is, comes into sight between the trees.

It is quite atypical for the town and its vicinity, since it had been built with electric-types in mind – the entire building is made out of steel, and instead of the organic, often disorganized forms that most Pokémon prefer for their houses, the jail is just a simple, rectangular block. Darkrai can glance no windows at the front wall, and the door, situated exactly in the middle of it, seems to have no handle on it. Most likely, it can only be opened with electricity (or raw power), which turns it into a rather well thought-out security feature.

Not that it would stop Darkrai – metal is just as easy to pass through as most other materials.

A Magnemite is floating in front of the door, and Darkrai would wager that he has not seen it before. Not that Magnemite as a species have great distinguishable features. Still, he is rather sure that it is not the same as the ones who occasionally accept the captured criminals or accompany Magnezone into town.

“You must be Duskull!” The Magnemite speaks up the moment Darkrai and Pearl appear close enough, its excitement clear through the high amount of static that accompanies its words. “Uxie requested your presence. And only your presence,” it adds, with a glance at Pearl.

“Oh, uh, hi! I’m Darcy’s exploration partner, Uxie knows me. I just wanted to check in…” Pearl tries to explain, but trails off as the electric-type merely stares – which is very effective if one has no eyelids.

“Unfortunately, I cannot grant you entry to Uxie’s room until Uxie has said that it is alright. But you can wait inside. We have a waiting area!” With that, it opens the door – and just as Darkrai suspected, it does so with a burst of electricity. The door opens on a previously unseen hinge.

As they step in, Darkrai has a careful look around – for future reference. One never knows what can happen, and to know how to get out of a jail if necessary, well, it is just common sense.

There is a reception area in direct line from the door, and to both the left and right, doors branch out. Interestingly, the one on the left actually has a handle, as well as a visible keyhole– most likely, then, something like a larder or living quarters for those who are not incarcerated are behind it. Darkrai is sure that Uxie’s guest room will be in the area behind that door.

Moreover, just as Magnemite said, there is a small waiting area – two benches against the outer-facing wall, as well as a table with an empty bowl. Darkrai would wager that food and drink is often placed in it.

The right door, just like the entrance, is without handle – which leads him to believe that this is where the individual cells lie. Although this door, at least, can be seen.

…Now that he thinks about it, how do they stop ghost-types (and Darkrai) from escaping? It is not as if steel walls will actually stop them.

“Now, uhm, Piplup! If you could please choose a place in the waiting area,” Magnemite speaks up, and Pearl, after a small sigh, nods and does just that. “Meanwhile, Duskull, I will show you to Uxie’s room and let you two talk. Would you perhaps—”

“Be willing to ask Uxie if he wants to see Pearl? Obviously.”

Magnmeite gives a… happy (Darkrai thinks) sound of static as an answer, and then moves over to the left door. Seems like Darkrai was correct – as usual.

Speaking of correct, he really hates the lights which have been placed in this room – they run on electricity, expectedly, and give off a slight… humming. Or maybe a buzzing? He has not been around electric lights often enough to know the proper term, he just knows that it is a truly unpleasant sound.

As such, he quickly follows after the Magnemite, in the hopes that whatever lies behind the door with a keyhole might not have these electric lights. Once again, Magnemite opens the door via electricity – now that Darkrai thinks about it, it probably could not even use the handle if it wanted to. Ah, the benefits of having hands never end, it seems. So the handle is probably just for the benefit of possible guests.

Behind the door, a hallway hides, which, after taking a sharp turn to the right after just about two, maybe three metres, opens to doors on both sides, which are once again made of metal. Who could have guessed. They come to a halt in front of the second-to-last door on the right side, which – like all doors on the right side, but interestingly enough, only one on the left – has a handle, once again.

“Uxie is behind this door,” Magnemite explains, “I will go back to the Reception Hall, so that your friend does not have to be alone.” And with that, it turns around and floats away the direction they came from.

And Darkrai… stands before the door, pondering. Uxie might not know that he is here. He could just… stand here, for a dozen minutes, or even two scores, and then return, act like he talked. Tell Pearl that Uxie is unwilling to see her and move on with his day.

“Dark-, Darcy?” Uxie’s voice resounds, muffled, through the door. Darn it.

Acting as if he did not just stand in front of the door, pondering what to do, Darkrai grabs the handle and opens the door. If worst comes to worst, he can just escape through the walls.

Before him, a simple room lies, with a single window, overlooking what appears to be a courtyard. Moreover, there are a desk and a chair – both in a size which is probably not suited to most Pokémon, being either too big or too small – a small closet, and finally, a bed. On which Uxie sits, blanket covering his legs and tails.

He really seems worse for wear – his left arm is in a sling (if it is broken or merely injured in another way, Darkrai does not care to know), and beneath his right eye, a big bruise has formed. It seems that Grovyle does not play around when it comes to fighting.

Before Darkrai has the chance to say anything – come up with an apology for not being able to control the guild’s members, explain that, really, Uxie should’ve known better than to trust Darkrai with it, or maybe just apologize in a liar’s way, Uxie speaks up.

“Don’t worry,” he says, a sigh escaping his throat, “I know that none of the guild’s members were the ones to tell Grovyle about the Time Gear.”

“What?” For a moment, Darkrai’s brain stutters to a halt. That… what? But how else—

“I may not be entirely sure how he did figure out where my Lake is and that a Time Gear is kept there, but he did not know through anyone from the guild.”

“That… is unexpected,” Darkrai admits, still trying to wrap his head around the new knowledge. He spent the entire morning worrying for nothing?! Darn it.

Then again, now that he thinks about it, would it not make sense for Grovyle to travel back in time only after he knew of the position of some Time Gears?

“Indeed,” Uxie sighs. “Do sit down, if you want, the chair should be about your size.”

“I would rather not,” Darkrai answers, giving no further explanation. Instead, he looks Uxie over once again.

Now, Uxie is not a tall Pokémon at all, but Darkrai would never have described him as ‘small’. He just has a way of holding, of presenting, himself that makes one ignore whatever size he may be. But today, he lacks all of that, and… for the first time in centuries, Darkrai realizes that, indeed, Uxie is small.

“I obviously did not only call you here just to tell you that.” Uxie states after a pause, but then does not continue.

Darkrai waits for him to do so, until he realizes, oh, Uxie must be waiting for his input. And so, he asks, “Then for what reason did you do so?”

Uxie stares at him – with closed eyes, of course, but still, Darkrai can feel the intensity of the gaze beneath the eyelids. He almost shudders.

“I am-, I fear for my siblings. This has been the third Time Gear which has been stolen, and the Grovyle behind these thefts… well, you can see me. He is not weak. In fact…” Uxie hesitates for a few moments, “While I do know that you are not weak, I advise you to… be very careful if you do run into him. He has a fighting style similar of…”

Once again, Uxie pauses. Darkrai does not interrupt.

“You remember the Years of Coldness, of course.”

Darkrai thinks. Does he? The words ring a bell, but enough to remember anything? Unfortunately not.

“I am… not quite sure what you mean,” he manages to force out, hating to have to admit to that.

“The years that followed after the business with Necrozma and Lunala. When Solgaleo had to… well. You know.”

Darkrai can feel his brow scrunch up. “When Necrozma…? I am… not quite sure I know what you are talking about.” Sure, Darkrai knows about the ‘business with Darkrai and Lunala and Solgaleo’ of course, but Necrozma was not included in that. And that was also nothing which spanned over years.

So what does Uxie mean?

Uxie stares at him, motionless. Darkrai can feel annoyance rise up within him – so he does not know what Uxie means, so what? That is no reason to act as if Darkrai did something wrong! But suddenly, something like a realization dawns on Uxie’s face. Darkrai does not like the implications of it.

“I apologize, I thought you would know, but… I remember now that you must have been in isolation at that point, not noticing what happened with the world. At that point, it was still early enough that you would still—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Darkrai hisses, enjoying how Uxie flinches. He ignores the knowledge that he only lets his anger shine through so that other emotions do not have the chance to reach the top. “The past is done and over. Do not mention it.”

Luckily, Uxie does indeed not finish it. Instead, after a short pause, he continues talking as if he had not ever mentioned anything of the like, at all. “Well, what I was initially trying to tell you – his fighting style was similar to the one most prominent at that time. Today, Pokémon generally fight to win, but not to harm or to kill. They care about the other’s well-being as much as their own.”

Darkrai is too late to stop an amused snort from escaping him.

Uxie narrows him down with a close-eyed gaze. “Yes, even you, Darkrai. Tell me, when have you last attacked anyone with the intent to kill?”

… Darkrai does not want Uxie to be right, and at the same time, wants him to be right so very much. Because yes, Uxie is right – for a long time, he has not fought to kill – but with Uxie’s question rises a memory from, what to Darkrai, is now long ago, but…

If Pearl would not have taken the attack, then the last time Darkrai attacked to kill would have ended in success, and  just a little more than half a year would have passed since then. As long as any time travel was to be disregarded, of course.

He cannot quite keep a grimace off of his face. Luckily, it is hidden beneath his illusion.

Understanding why thinking of his attack against Grovyle makes him feel so… so… as if there is something wedged between his heart and his gut, something that feels heavy, and borderline-suffocating, almost like… disgust, is hard. In fact, he does not understand at all. Why would he feel disgust? Disgust at not having managed to stop Grovyle?

He forces himself to cease thinking about it.

Uxie suddenly speaks up, and Darkrai realizes that he might have waited for him to answer, and when it became apparent that no words would come forth, continued the conversation on his own.

“I mean what I said – today, no one fights to kill. But in the Years of Coldness… it was different. Pokémon fought to survive, Pokémon fought to kill. Some Pokémon even fought with the intent to kill and then… eat who they had killed. And the fighting style reflected those needs.”

“So what you are trying to say is that…”

“Yes. He fought like this. He fought as if he was taught by desperation and suffering, by a will to survive and a resolve to kill if it became necessary. If I had not given up when I did, moved out of the way and allowed him to take the Time Gear, I… I am not sure if he would not have—"

Uxie chokes up. A long silence reigns.

And for once, Darkrai truly understands another Pokémon. Because he knows what the fear of death feels like. And the memory of almost having died—

He still does not allow himself to think for too long about the days following his stumble into the past. If anyone had come upon him, then, and decided to—

Well. He does not let himself think about it.

“In any way,” Uxie speaks up again, his voice almost breaking at the first words, “If you do find yourself facing up against him, be careful. Please. He is much stronger than any other Grovyle I have met. Than most other Pokémon I have met.”

“Alright,” Darkrai says, since he actually does not plan on confronting Grovyle at all, anyways, and then, questioning, adds, “That is all, I would assume?”

Uxie shakes his head. “There is still… I will…My siblings are…” Not finding the right words, he trails off and stares to the side, in the direction of the closet in his room. Darkrai could not think of anything which would be in there – Uxie has never seemed very partial to material possessions. Besides, what with the Time Gear having been stolen, he might have been too busy to take anything with him, what with having to run for his life as time stopped around its previous place.

(Darkrai would not know from experience, of course. No, that would mean that, at one point in time, he removed a Time Gear from its place, and obviously, he never even thought of doing anything like that. He would never.)

“What I want to say, is that,” Uxie starts over, “My siblings are not as… level-headed as I—”

“To put it mildly.”

“And thus, I fear that... I fear that they will not give up, even if they are about to lose. And I cannot… I cannot lose them. I know that Dialga would understand. He is… thankful, that we guard the Time Gears for him, but he would never want us to die for them. But I think that my siblings may not believe that.”

“And so, what? Do you want me to check up on them?”

“I…” Uxie stares past Darkrai, and finally, he nods and meets his gaze once again. “Yes. Because while I do not think any of the guild’s members are bad Pokémon, I just cannot share where my siblings reside. But you already know, and I’d wager that you are stronger than most of the guild’s members.”

“I am not a bodyguard for hire.” And he really is not, so why would Uxie come to him to ask for something like this? Darkrai can admit, he is miffed. He is Darkrai, Ruler over Nightmares and Darkness, not… Darkrai, babysitter of idiotic Pokémon who do not know how to yield in a fight.

“I know!” Uxie hisses, actually surprising Darkrai. He stares at him with wide eyes. He… had not known that Uxie was actually capable of getting noticeably frustrated. “Do you not think that I know? But I can’t help them myself, and I did warn them already, but they are just so brash, assuring me that they can take on ‘a single Grovyle’ and I just don’t know what to do, now!” By the end of his tirade, he is actually breathing heavily, as well as cradling his left arm with his right hand. Darkrai has never seen the other as worked up, which… admittedly drives in the situation.

Now, neither Mesprit or Azelf died in the past, that he knows. If they had, well, Darkrai would definitely have heard of it. Most Legendaries might act as if they are a very big, very dysfunctional family, but still, they do see each other as kin. Even Darkrai, estranged as he might be from most others, would probably go out of his way to search out a Pokémon that killed another Legendary to take revenge.

… Even for Cresselia, but that would admittedly only be because he is the only one allowed to hurt her.

So, truly, if Grovyle had killed either Mesprit or Azelf… It would not have been pretty for the grass-type.

As such, he knows that neither of them will die. But perhaps… if Darkrai is re-enacting time as closely as possible, that was only because Pearl and her original partner managed to help them in time. Perhaps Uxie, in a different world, would have trusted Pearl instead of Darkrai, and it would be her standing here right now instead of Darkrai. He does not know, and his chances of ever knowing are basically non-existent.

Which means…

He scoffs. “Alright, alright, no reason to let yourself indulge in hysterics.”

And then, the strangest thing happens – Uxie laughs. It does not sound happy, or even derisive, but still, he laughs – three barks of laughter, and then, no more. Darkrai cannot even pretend to understand what just happened. He stares at Uxie, who, for the longest time, simply stares at the blanket before him.

When he finally looks up, there is a small smile on his face. “In many ways, Darkrai, you are still like a child,” Uxie insults him, and before he has a chance to interrupt, the other continues, “And I cannot believe that I needed so long to realize.”

Darkrai hisses, “And what, exactly, do you mean by that?!” He is starting to feel the itch to attack Uxie, show the other how much of a ‘child’ he truly is and if he has to beat that knowledge into the other’s head—

As soon as he realizes that there is anger burning within his chest, he forces it down. Whatever emotion Darkrai might have shown on his face gets carefully wiped off, locked beneath a cold mask. He is not one to allow himself to indulge in useless emotions. At least he should not be, because every time he does, things spiral out of control.

“Forget what I said. I was just hurt badly, and I fear for the lives of my siblings. I will obviously say things I would not under normal circumstances.”

And Darkrai can see Uxie’s words for what they are – a try to get his head out of a noose he just unwittingly bound. And he is not about to allow that.

“But you will think them, will you not?”

Uxie stares, just as much too often today, directly at Darkrai. “Do not make the mistake of assuming my thoughts, Darkrai. You do not understand me, and I do not understand you. I may trust you now, but I have not forgotten the things you have done in the past.”

The ‘Know your place’ might only be implied, but even so, Darkrai can feel anger rise once again.

“You want my help, do you not?” he hisses, “So decide carefully how you want to treat me in the future.”

And this, finally, manages to make Uxie back down, to exhale loudly and slump over once again. Darkrai had not even noticed that the other had pulled himself up, had, once again, not seemed small. Just because he suddenly appears so anew does Darkrai see the change which must have happened before.

“I… apologize. I went too far. What I said before is true – my feelings and emotions are in disarray, and you were here at the wrong time, and so I unleashed these emotions at you, even though you did not deserve that. Truly, I am sorry for what I said.”

From most other Pokémon, Darkrai would see an apology as this as a lie, or a try to get on his good side, but Uxie…

Darkrai crosses his arms and huffs. Uxie is honest. He might not always tell the entire story, but he does not lie. So if he apologizes, he means it. “Alright,” he answers, because truly, this is awkward. He never wanted to stay here for so long, and now, he almost had a shouting match with Uxie and ugh, when did his plan ever rely on having to please Uxie? He would like to go back and stop this from ever happening, please and thank you.

He should have never allowed Pearl to drag him up to that lake.

“To… get back to what we were talking about before. I do know that you cannot reach both of my siblings immediately, and I also know that, with the guild and your friend by your side, you probably cannot show your true self to my siblings—”

“And if we are honest, then doing so would, most likely, make them rather aggressive toward me. Even more aggressive than they are sure to be the moment I talk to them.”

Uxie flinches. “Your form has nothing to do with our emotions… but yes, unfortunately my siblings would most likely not react positively to it. But… Please, visit them. Explain the situation, again – they may not listen, immediately, but perhaps, if they are warned by someone they do not know has any connection to me, they will be more careful.”

Darkrai raises an eyebrow.  “I am not to tell them that you sent me?”

Uxie grimaces. “After careful consideration… No, do not tell them that. As I said, if they think that you are telling them because of a reason that is not simply their sibling once again trying to tell them what to do… they would most likely give it more consideration. The same information, from two different sources, should put them on their toes.”

Darkrai cannot help himself, at what Uxie says, he laughs. “Scheming behind your siblings’ backs? Perhaps not all hope for you is yet lost.”

Uxie, just as Darkrai expected, flinches. Truly, for someone believing themselves to be oh-so-very-righteous, Uxie has a bad record of not trusting anyone else with the knowledge he has, and even using it against them. He probably believes that the end justifies the means.

(Darkrai agrees.)

As no more reaction but the flinch comes, Darkrai takes the word once again. “Well, in any way – do you first want me to contact Mesprit or Azelf? I would wager Mesprit, since she is most definitely the brashest of you three.”

Uxie sighs “She is, unfortunately. If you could… do so, I…”

“Yes, yes, I will have your never-ending thanks. I know.” Darkrai turns around and makes for the door, and Uxie makes no move to stop him. And then, just before he grabs the door handle, he turns around again, “Not that your never-ending thanks will be enough, I do hope that you know that. And since one hand washes the other…”

Uxie sends him what Darkrai supposes is an angry glare. “I won’t help you in any of your schemes if it might hurt anyone.”

Darkrai cannot help from rolling his eye. “I know. But rest assured, there will be other ways in which I will get my due.”

And with these ominous words, he decides to just forego the normal way of leaving the room, and instead exits it in a much more dramatic fashion – straight through the door he floats, never bothering to open it. Behind him, he swears he can hear Uxie huff in exasperation, but that is of no concern to him. He did a great, dramatic exit. Uxie’s fault if he cannot appreciate it.

 

“Ah, just about in time, you two!” Chatot crows, not quite throwing them an annoyed glance, but not a happy one, either. Pah. It is not as if anyone else had to talk to Uxie, and after, explain to Pearl as nicely as possible that, no, Uxie does not want to see her, he is very tired and all that. Not that Darkrai actually asked Uxie, he just decided that those two should not meet, today.

“Now, we can finally begin,” Chatot speaks up without any more preamble, the second Pearl and Darkrai have moved into position amongst the rest of the guild’s members (and Dusknoir).

“First of all, Grovyle,” at this, Chatot points at a Wanted Poster of Grovyle, which has conveniently been moved to the lowest level of the guild, to be hung right next to Wigglytuff’s office. “Seems to be targeting Time Gears. Now, where are the Time Gears?” He flutters his wings and makes a pause – either for dramatic effect, or to give the chance to speak up if someone actually has the answer.

Darkrai has, but he won’t share that knowledge.

“The answer is that, except for the three which got already stolen, we do not know. And therefore, the Guildmaster and I have decided that the best course of action forward is to search out possible locations. Together with the great Dusknoir, we have identified a few places where they might be hidden.”

Great. Splendid. Just wonderful. Obviously, the guild’s members – including Darkrai, unfortunately – will now be sent on a wild chase to all the places Chatot has decided upon. Which will, most likely, be empty of Time Gears, anyway.

“Now, your task,” he looks at the members, “Will be to search these places. Every Team has been assigned a place, some further away than others. If you could take out your maps.”

Darkrai, withholding a sigh, does just that. Seems as if Uxie will have to wait another day until Darkrai can search out Mesprit – because her lake is hidden quite a long way from the guild, two or three days of travel, if he remembers correctly.

“Duskull and Piplup,” Chatot turns to them, after already having given most of the other members their places to search, “You two, I would like to search the Eastern Forest – you can see it on your map, it should take you no more than a day’s assignment.”

“But everyone else got such faraway locations,” Pearl huffs, and there might actually be a pout on her face, “Like the Crystal Cave!”

Chatot’s gaze cools down considerably, telling Darkrai that Pearl, most definitely, said the wrong thing. “Piplup, you and your partner have been with the guild the shortest amount of time. You are not yet ready for more than single-day assignments.”

Pearl is definitely pouting, but, staring at the ground instead of Chatot, forces out, “No, of course not. Sorry.”

Darkrai really hates Chatot. Not that he agrees with Pearl, but he’d rather be on her side than Chatot’s, so hating Chatot it is.

And Pearl. Of course he still hates Pearl, just… in a different way than Chatot.

“Well, since this non-issue is out of the way, now – does everyone understand where they are to go and what they will have to do?”

Everyone nods, including Darkrai. It is unfortunate that he did not get assigned the Crystal Cave, since that is where Azelf resides, but he will just believe in neither Grovyle nor Bidoof and his entourage finding the entrance to Azelf’s lake. Instead, he will finish today’s assignment, not find a Time Gear (there is none at the Eastern Forest, that he already knows), and tomorrow, he will propose to Chatot that he and Pearl will continue searching on their own. And after, make his way to Mesprit.

Having decided on this course of action, he is about to move out, but obviously, Dusknoir keeps him back.

“Ah, Duskull, wait, please! I got some items, as I promised, which I am sure will help you at the Eastern Forest – I think you two will be able to deal with it on your own, but caution always pays better than carelessness.”

“Of course,” Darkrai agrees, and Pearl smiles as she says, “Thank you so much! Without you, we’d have arrived even later!”

“As I said, it was no problem at all – I am happy to have been able to help you.” Dusknoir does what, Darkrai has learnt by now, is intended to be a smile. It is, in fact, just a simple movement of his lower eyelid, but well, each Pokémon has to face their own difficulties when it comes to emoting certain feelings. Pun intended. By now, Darkrai is even able to tell when Dusknoir’s smiles are honest and when they are not. It is quite simple, really: None of his smiles are ever earnest. He is quite the talented actor, Darkrai can admit in silence.

“And please,” said actor continues to say, unaware that Darkrai had seen through him a week ago, “If you need anything else, do not fear to ask.”

“Will do! Thank you again!”

Darkrai remains silent and stares at Dusknoir. He wonders. Perhaps…

No, of course not. Dusknoir is not to be trusted, even though he might have a goal which aligns, to a certain degree, with Darkrai’s. It will be much wiser, in the long run, to simply remain by Pearl’s side.

Throwing the ghost a last, cold glance, Darkrai turns around and floats off.

 

Unnoticed, Dusknoir’s eye narrows.

Notes:

Okay, so, first of all, huge apologies for how long it took me to update the story. I know that sometimes, things happen and real life becomes chaotic, and not updating then isn't the end of the world, but I still feel bad for it, and so I apologize. With that being said, my life will remain chaotic for at least the entire month of June, which means that I probably won't be able to update on the Ides.
Especially since I am rewriting huge chunks of the story. The way I had it before was not bad, by any means, but I have to admit...
With the positive response this story has been getting, I started asking myself where I TRULY want to go with it. And the thing is, when I wrote it initially, it was written rather closely along the lines of canon (as you can see in the earlier chapters), and it was starting to deviate more the further it got. But I have started to realize that it is more fun for me and, I think, also the readers, if I DON'T just copy canon. That it's okay to deviate in a few more ways, to try new things, to let the story run a course that might not be expected immediately by those who already know the games.
Before, I treated the story as if it was wooden blocks, probably - you can arrange them in fun new ways, but their initial shapes stay as they are. But now, I want to treat it like clay. The (source) material is something I cannot change, but I sure as hell can change the shape it takes.
But pair that desire with my chaotic life at the moment and you get a "Well the new version of the chapter is not finished at all, darn it". And as I said before - I treasure Quality over Quantity, and as such, updates will become a little more sporadic in the coming weeks/months.
Initially, the chapter as it is now was planned to be just the first half of Chapter 10, but as always when I allow myself to play more with everything, it kept growing, haha. I thought "I'll just post it as it is, having a 3000 word chapter after a hiatus is better than having just an even longer hiatus" only to THEN realize, that once again, I've... uh, written more than I thought. So yeah, this chapter is the usual length, anyways. I don't think that it's quite up to my usual standards - especially since it was, initially, mostly setting stuff up for the second half of the chapter, which it still does, but now the second half's missing, and so it's just setting stuff up and oh no - but as I said, I just want to end this hiatus.
With all of this out of the way, thank you all so much for reading, commenting, bookmarking etc. the story (and drawing fanart. still not over it)! It means the world to me.

Edit Hiatus Update (02.11.2022):
Not a lot to say about this chapter. Most things stayed the same, just some occasional “flow-edits”, as I will now call it whenever I change things for better flow of reading/edit out mistakes. I did enjoy re-reading it though, the conversation between Uxie and Darkrai was just as much fun to read as it initially was to write. But the chapter’s kinda short, isn’t it? Or do I just think that because of the gargantuan sizes some of the later chapters take on? Haha

Chapter 11: A Cry of the Dark

Summary:

Last Chapter: After Uxie’s Time Gear was stolen, and Uxie himself was hurt in the attack, he was moved to Treasure Town. The guild decided to do their best to apprehend the thief behind the thefts, Grovyle, and as their first course of action decided on searching out possible locations of other Time Gears. Uxie and Darkrai also talked, and Uxie warned Darkrai about Grovyle’s strength, as well as asked him to visit both his siblings, Mesprit and Azelf, to warn them about Grovyle. And although Darkrai agreed to do so, Pearl and he were sent out by the guild to a different location, and he decided to therefore postpone these visits.

Notes:

Okay, so, I now have been gifted another piece of fanart, and I really don’t understand why anyone would take time out of their day to draw?? something?? For ME?? But a commenter going by the name "Ferdie :)" did, and please, please, please, look at it, it’s GORGEOUS! https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/755439018438557716/862520480426098718/IMG_4766.jpg

Also, anyone remember when Darkrai was on his way to redemption? Well he decided that’s stupid he’s not gonna do that anymore

[Edit Hiatus Update: To all the new readers who might be confused once they start reading: No, you didn’t miss a chapter :) ]

“How interesting…” Darkrai drawls at the approaching figure, not even attempting to make it sound neutral instead of unfriendly. There is no use in hiding his bad mood, anyways, “Of the venerated Dusknoir to search this lowly explorer out, when everyone else is already asleep.”

Said Dusknoir floats the last few paces towards Darkrai, not answering just yet. The waxing moon illuminates his figure just dramatically enough, and Darkrai is entirely sure that the other positioned himself this way on purpose.

And then, he laughs, “Ah, can you fault me for being worried?”

At this, Darkrai almost laughs in turn. It would sound just as fake.

“Pearl told me that the two of you had, well, an argument,” Dusknoir continues, “And since you did not return to the guild even after curfew, I decided to look for you on her behalf. She is very worried.” He puts a hand over where his heart would be – if he had one, but ghost-types tend not to subscribe to common anatomy.

“Or,” Darkrai scoffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “You, yourself, wanted to search me out, now that you finally have the chance to corner me while I am alone.”

The ghost gasps, as if actually slighted by the words. His hand, which had fallen from his chest during his previous statement, now lands unto it again, as if to drive in the truth of his lies. “I am not cornering you! As I said, Pearl was merely so distraught—”

Darkrai rolls his eye as he interrupts Dusknoir. “Make it easier for the both of us and finally drop your act. I have seen through it since the very first day you appeared here.” He makes a slight pause, just too short to give the ghost time for an answer, “And still, I have not yet told anyone of your duplicity, so really, is there still a need to keep it up?”

“Act? Duplicity? I am sorry, I do not understand.” His words sound so earnest, it is physically disgusting. Just when Darkrai got over the day’s need of washing off every accidental touch, every annoying word, Dusknoir makes it return with force.

“Drop it. I know that you understand my words perfectly well, so do stop insulting my intelligence by assuming that you can deceive me like this.”

And finally, finally, after over a week of having to pretend that, just like everyone else, he buys into Dusknoir’s act, the other stops acting. His shoulders, while not necessarily scrunched up under normal circumstances, square out, his mien – if a single eye can even be called that – loses its usual, friendly sparkle, his posture goes from inviting to something on the brink of threatening. Like this, he actually does seem almost dangerous. Darkrai is sure that most lesser Pokémon would be intimidated.

Too bad for Dusknoir that Darkrai is not amongst them.

“As I thought,” Dusknoir says, and even his voice has changed – it was deep, before, but now, a new, menacing quality has crept into it. Or, perhaps, not menacing. Where before, he sounded friendly and warm, he now sounds authoritative and cold. “You are much more perceptive than anyone else here.”

“Empty flattery will not buy you my goodwill,” Darkrai answers, enjoying that, for once, he truly does not have to act friendly. It is a freedom not even conversations with Uxie grant him. “So just tell me what you want.”

Dusknoir stares at him, and then shakes his head, raising his hands in a shrugging motion, not unlike the one Darkrai had started to use once he realized that the body of a Duskull lacks the shoulders to shrug with. For half a moment, he wonders what that means – did Dusknoir spend a long period of time, unevolved, and therefore shrugs like this? Has he not been evolved for too long, yet? Or was it convenience, to keep doing it as he must have always done before?

Darkrai does not know, and honestly, he also does not care.

“Who says that I want anything?” He sounds belittling, something Darkrai greatly dislikes. Moreover, he still evades the truth, and Darkrai is really not in the mood for that.

“If you do not, then you can simply leave me alone again.” And he turns his back to Dusknoir.

In many ways, this is a foolish gesture – baring his back to someone who might just attack, making himself defenceless, in case of a fight,…

But to Dusknoir, who will understand it, it sends a different message: He is not scared of him. He is strong enough to not have to care about an attack.

For a few moments, silence reigns, only interrupted by the sound of waves gently lapping against the cliffs.

And then, it seems, the message is received and understood, as Dusknoir laughs – not his usual fake laugh he loves to flaunt in front of the citizens of the town and whoever else might want to hear it, but a laugh that acutely belies his true character. There is no warmth in it.

“Well, if you want the truth, then it is this: Ever since I arrived here, you have intrigued me. You are not like the others who live here, truly.”

Darkrai knows that, once again, the words are intended to flatter him. He does not allow them to do so. However, he does turn around again, to face Dusknoir directly – turning his back to the other was necessary, of course, but he does not enjoy baring it for too long. He believes himself to be more powerful than Dusknoir in a direct fight, but if the other had the advantage of attacking Darkrai’s back…

“And?” Darkrai finally asks after Dusknoir does not continue to speak, seemingly waiting for an answer or acknowledgment of his words.

“I merely thought to seek you out, now that I had the chance, as you said.”

“It is fascinating to me,” Darkrai drawls, once again, “How easy hollow flattery comes to you. Do you not hate to have to sell yourself for such a low prize? Do you not hate to show yourself as lesser than you are, to let others believe that, truly, you are not threatening? Or do you truly enjoy grovelling in the dirt before just about anyone?”

These words, finally, elicit a response which is not quite so sycophantic.

“You have no idea what you speak off,” Dusknoir hisses, and Darkrai treasures the rare show of real emotion. After all, emotion is the pathway to manipulation.

“Do I not? For example,” and for a moment, he thinks of stopping himself from saying the next words, to keep the knowledge hidden just a little longer and using it at another moment… but right now is just so opportune, and so, he continues, “I do know that this morning was not the first time you heard of Grovyle. In fact, you two have known each other for quite some time, have you not?”

Almost imperceptibly, Dusknoir’s eye widens, and Darkrai feels affirmed in having used that knowledge right now – the ghost should be aware that Darkrai knows more about him than he does about Darkrai.

“And why do you claim that?”

“Why should I tell someone who is not willing to be honest, even after his mask has fallen?”

Dusknoir stares at him, and then sighs. There is no emotion behind the action, although Dusknoir is very good at making it seem so. “It seems we got off on the wrong foot. My reason to search you out was, I promise, because you are quite intriguing. I did not plan on much more but finding out just what makes you so different from everyone else here. But it seems I… miscalculated, to a certain degree, and found myself with someone who knows things he really should have no reason to.”

An answer, but yet, no answer at all. Darkrai has to give it to him – Dusknoir is a master of spinning things that have already been said into words which seem new.

“And what is your goal, now?” Darkrai prods, since their conversation might go on for hours if he does not.

Dusknoir remains silent, staring out at the dark sea. Finally, he looks at Darkrai again.

“It is… true, what you said before. I have known Grovyle for quite some time. In fact, I came here with the hopes to find help in apprehending him. He truly is an outlaw of the worst calibre.”

“Is he, now?” Darkrai asks, almost amused at the tale Dusknoir is starting to spin. “Because I do know one thing, Dusknoir – merely stealing the Time Gears, while dangerous to small areas, is not dangerous for the world. In fact, it could even be described as the opposite. So why should an outlaw steal not one, not two, but three? One could be described away with greed, two as the pride of a successful theft, but three, this is where things cannot be explained so easily, anymore.”

As Dusknoir says nothing, Darkrai continues, spinning a tale as if he is only just now coming up with a theory, as if he did not know of the reason behind the thefts years before the first Time Gear was even stolen.

“Three implies that something else is going on behind the scenes. Grovyle cannot sell the Gears, because not even the greediest Pokémon are willing to buy such artefacts, he cannot use them to boast of successful thefts, because even the worst thieves condemn what he has done. No, three tells me that, for some reason, Grovyle is desperate and needs the Time Gears for something. So why, exactly, do you want to capture him so much?”

Dusknoir stays silent, and Darkrai wonders if, perhaps, he went too far, said too much. But everything he said can be explained away with simply being good at drawing deductions, paired with some knowledge he gathered during his very long life.

“The removal of the Time Gears…” Dusknoir finally starts, “Will lead to the planet’s paralysis.”

“No,” Darkrai objects, not willing to listen to another lie from Dusknoir, “The fall of Temporal Tower will.”

Or each and every Gear’s destruction, although he does not mention that. It is, as far as he is aware, knowledge only Dialga and Darkrai share.

Without pause, Darkrai continues. “The removal of the Time Gears might assist in that, but as long as Dialga is firmly in control of his tower, as long as nothing happens to it, that will not happen.”

“You are certainly knowledgeable about things others do not even know about.”

“And I would be willing to be more open if a certain someone stopped trying to insult me by constantly feeding me lies. Either speak clearly or get out of my sight.”

And finally, finally Darkrai sees Dusknoir realize that they are on what, to him, must seem an even playing field. And with a laugh – a mix of the cold one he heard before, and the warm one he always likes to present to those who do not see through him – Dusknoir opens his arms, as if welcoming Darkrai into the realm of truth.

“I understand. Well, in that case, yes, you are correct – the removal of the Time Gears will not lead to the planet’s paralysis. It is as you said. And I know because…” He makes a pause, most likely for dramatic effect, “I am from the future. As is Grovyle.”

And then, he is silent, as if waiting for a reaction from Darkrai. Perhaps surprise, or astonishment, or horror. Darkrai remains unmoving, his mien not changing. Should he act surprised? No, not really. Even in his persona of Darcy, he does not show his emotions on his face very openly. And as Darkrai, well, the only time he likes to show what he feels is if he can gloat in front of others.

“And what kind of future is it?” Darkrai finally asks, but before Dusknoir has a chance to answer, he decides to just continue screwing with Dusknoir. Who cares if Darkrai knows more than he should? His chances of being accepted back into the guild again after his… argument with Pearl; of her accepting to continue to see him as a friend…

Well.

No, it is definitely better to look for new allies, and Dusknoir, in his hubris of believing to be inscrutable, is turning out to be a good candidate for manipulation.

“Ah, it could not be… a paralysed planet, could it?”

For once, the shock is obvious in Dusknoir’s face, as his eye widens perceptibly.

Darkrai laughs. “So I am correct.”

“What, exactly,” Dusknoir forces out, and oh yes, he is most definitely agitated now, which is exactly what Darkrai wants – the moment others allow themselves to be swallowed by emotions, they lose control, “Are you implying, and how do you know?”

Darkrai stares out at the sea, waiting for just the right moment to answer. Too early, and Dusknoir will think he had been planning his answer even before the question was asked (which he did, but he cannot make it seem so). Too late, and it will seem as if he had to make something up.

“Was it not you who just told me of a paralyzed planet?”

The waves tonight are almost gentle, nothing like the usual force they have once autumn arrives. He wishes that they were more brutal, today, to fit his mood.

Finally, he continues, as if he only just came to the conclusion to tell Dusknoir something, and was not just watching the waves. ”The forces which will lead to the future you claim to be from have already started making their moves. And although I am not quite… involved with them, I have managed to gather some knowledge.” A lie, as usual. But if he weighs in Dusknoir’s obvious confusion about all the things he has revealed, then the other should be almost willing to believe it, and that is all Darkrai currently needs.

“Speak clearly.”

Darkrai turns to look at him once again. “I speak just as clearly as you do.”

This leads to a slight narrowing of Dusknoir’s eye. “Then, let me ask you a question: What do you think of the world you live in?”

Darkrai would laugh out loud if he could allow himself to do so. It seems as if Dusknoir is carefully trying to find out if Darkrai would make a good ally, and Darkrai is, of course, very willing to act as such. He will have to give what seems like an opening, but as he decided before, it is his best way forward. With Pearl perhaps lost to him, he will need another ally.

(He does not allow himself to dwell on the strange feeling that the thought of replacing Pearl leaves in his chest.)

“Oh, it is perfectly alright,” he therefore answers, and then, he snickers, for good measure. “At least, if one prefers the sun to darkness, constant noise to silence, and an overabundance of Pokémon to just a select few. But you should feel the same, should you not? Seldom have I met another ghost who did not think along those lines.”

For some time, Dusknoir keeps silent. Darkrai lets him. He is very obviously deliberating whether he can trust Darkrai, or if Darkrai is trying to lay a trap. The question is only if Dusknoir will decide that the answers are ‘no’ and ‘yes’ respectively, or if he will be unable to see through the things Darkrai wants to make him believe.

Dusknoir sighs. It does not sound fake, for once. “The future… In the future, Temporal Tower has collapsed. The planet has been paralysed, and as a result of that, eternal darkness reigns. Just by having been in your time for a few months, I have met more Pokémon than I ever even saw there.”

If only Primal Dialga had not reigned, then Darkrai would still describe this as a perfect world.

“That certainly sounds… interesting,” he carefully answers, as if he is only barely grasping at this world Dusknoir explained to him, as if he does not yet truly understand what Dusknoir is trying to imply, as if he is, just like Dusknoir, thinking about trust and traps.

“And if I may ask you another question,” the ghost starts, as if Darkrai could truly stop him from doing so, “If you had to cease to exist, in order to… stop something from ever coming to be, would you do so?”

Darkrai laughs. “My dear Dusknoir,” he mocks, “Are you implying that you did not come here to stop such a future from existing, but that this is rather what Grovyle is doing? Three Time Gears – desperation. Whoever heard of grass-types liking solar eclipses?” And once again, he laughs. It seems that Dusknoir, against everything, has decided to trust Darkrai to a certain degree.

Just as he knew that the other would, the moment he searched him out on his own.

“Indeed, who did?” Dusknoir says, staring at him intently. Darkrai knows that, on his next answer, the outcome of this possible alliance depends.

“Certainly no one, as well as no one heard of a Grovyle doing heroic deeds. I understand why you followed that dangerous criminal into the past.”

And just like this, he sees clearly, that Dusknoir suddenly regards him as an ally. Oh, he makes no mistake, he knows that Dusknoir, very likely, thinks that he is manipulating Darkrai just as much as Darkrai is manipulating him, if not even more. Unfortunately for him, he is wrong.

Liars always tend to think that they would be able to tell apart those speaking the truth from those who do not, after all. And this is always their downfall. Only if one frees themselves from that belief will they truly start to see through lies.

It was a lesson Darkrai needed centuries to learn.

“Grovyle is strong. Stronger than you might be accustomed to,” Dusknoir suddenly speaks up, which must be… a warning? How positively nice of him.

“Is he, now? You are the second Pokémon to tell me so, but rest assured, I know how to handle even the strongest enemies.” And by that, he means that he will tactically retreat in a swift fashion if he faces them. Which is most definitely not the same as running away. It might look similar on first glance, but it is vastly different. Definitely.

Dusknoir clasps his hands behind his back – perhaps to show himself as more open, even if unconsciously. “Uxie told you?”

“Indeed.” Darkrai moves his hands behind his back as well.

Dusknoir stares, and then asks the question that Darkrai was already asked once, today. “How do you know him? Perhaps things are different in the past, but I just cannot imagine Legendary Pokémon being very inclined to friendships, or even contact, with what they must consider common Pokémon.”

It is as if the tides have changed out of nowhere – where before Darkrai was walking a field of deadly traps, now Dusknoir acts as if they had been friends for years, already. At least his warning and question make it seem that way. They are not as laden with hidden meanings as even a single word spoken before.

Perhaps Dusknoir wants to draw Darkrai into a trap, but…

There are different kinds of liars. This, Darkrai knows. And Dusknoir, Darkrai has decided, is the one who, once he is made to speak the truth becomes earnest in other things as well (a fault Darkrai does not share). And as such, now that their alliance has been made, Dusknoir will either be honest or simply lie by omission. But no longer will he use words to lie.

And perhaps, just perhaps, Darkrai thinks, Dusknoir had been getting lonely in this peaceful world of light. Darkrai has not met many Pokémon who would prefer solitude to anything else, even if many would claim it. Deep within their soul, almost all would, at one point, start to yearn for someone to share time and words with.

It is not Darkrai’s fault if he offers himself up for the position.

Only Dusknoir’s, for believing that Darkrai is honest.

“Legendary Pokémon are different to common Pokémon, are they not? So, who is to know what they think, or what they base their decisions on? It is quite a mystery, indeed.” Darkrai answers.

Pah, as if he is going to tell Dusknoir anything useful! Just because he has decided to act as if he is now an ally to Dusknoir, just because he might act as if he is successfully being manipulated, does not mean that his feelings toward Dusknoir have changed. No, they are still the same: hate and loathing.

As Dusknoir stays silent, he continues. “Perhaps things are indeed very different in this time. Perhaps they are not. I am sure that, in this future of yours, you have met at least one Legendary Pokémon you could have asked that question.”

Dusknoir stiffens, just a little, which makes Darkrai realize what he just insinuated. Darn it. There is no reason for him to know about Primal Dialga, is there? “They are not as uncommon as one would at first believe, to be entirely honest,” he backtracks, “And with the immense power many of them wield, I do believe that, even in the future, they would not simply cease to exist.”

The amount of tension within Dusknoir disappears, once again. “Perhaps you are right. In any way,… If I am the second to say so, please head the warning. If you find yourself facing Grovyle, it would be best if you did not engage him in a fight. I am loathe to say it, but even I have a hard time fighting him.”

“I did not plan on that.” And for good measure, Darkrai throws out his go-to lie when it comes to explaining away his apparent weakness. “I am still unevolved, after all.”

“But not young,” Dusknoir states, no doubt in his voice.

By now, Darkrai has to admit that, perhaps, he did never properly act like a young Pokémon, and instead made his old age obvious. Then again, it has been just so long since he was truly young, and… well, he has always hated thinking about his youth, and so, he does not dwell on it if it can be helped. So, yes, he realizes that it has become obvious to most others that he is quite old.

As such, admitting as much to Dusknoir will definitely bring no future harm, and there is no reason not to do so. “Indeed. Rather the opposite, in fact, but I am sure that almost everyone in town knows.”

“Is there… a particular reason why you have decided not to evolve?” Is this honest curiosity Darkrai hears in Dusknoir’s voice? As he looks at the other, he would almost say so – there is a glint in Dusknoir’s eye which, unlike all the times he saw it before, does not seem dangerous.

But can it truly be just curiosity?

“Is it a crime to feel comfortable the way you are?” he asks back instead of properly answering – trying to see if Dusknoir is truly curious or just acting that way.

“Of course not. But everyone knows that with evolution comes strength, and you do not strike me as the type to not choose to increase yours if you have the chance.”

Darkrai laughs. “You think you can read me quite so easily? There is a reason, that you are right about. But it is not what you think it is.”

“Then what is it?” There is just the slightest hint of frustration crawling into Dusknoir’s voice, proving that, indeed, it must be curiosity. And that his persona of an all-knowing, wisdom-seeking explorer has a basis in reality.

Darkrai chuckles, this time. “That is for me to know and for you to puzzle over.” And then, he stares at the ocean. The sky is clear tonight, the moon, even if not full, still bright. It paints a path of light across the ocean. Cresselia loves nights like this, and that alone is reason enough for Darkrai to hate them in turn. He can feel his mood souring again the moment her name crosses his mind.

And the waxing moon does remind him of her form, making him not just think of her name, but also her face and, well, now whatever bad mood he was in before has just worsened even more.

He speaks up, staying as polite as he can manage, “Now, if that is all, I tire of this conversation.”

“There are still certain things we should, perhaps, discuss—”

“They can be discussed another night. Now that I am… aware of your plans, we will find time without interruption from anyone else.”

Dusknoir, perhaps noticing Darkrai’s turn in mood, sighs, then nods. “Of course. Will you return to the guild?”

Darkrai holds back a cold laugh, and instead answers, “No. At least not tonight. Perhaps tomorrow, I will make up with Pearl, but for tonight, I will stay here. If she asks about me…” He thinks. What would be the best way forward? He might have lost Pearl’s friendship, but now, a lot calmer, a new semi-ally on his side, he can recognize that, perhaps, she will forgive him once again – after all, she is a hero, always looking out for everyone. Perhaps that sentiment still entails him.

Which means that he should at least try to repair their relationship – he does not need to mean it, obviously, but just act as if he does. It had become easier the last weeks, anyways.

“Do tell her that I merely need some more time alone. To calm down.”

“Of course,” Dusknoir agrees, nodding. “I wish you a pleasant night… Duskull.”

For a moment, he thinks of responding with words, as well, but in the end merely looks toward the ocean again. He does so until he can be sure that Dusknoir has truly gone away and not hidden himself somewhere.

And then…

He plans.

 

At night, the guild seems so very unlike itself. No loud voices can be heard from within, no Pokémon traverse the steps leading up towards it, and Darkrai would wager that its obnoxious shape would only be perceived as a dark shadow to those approaching it now, who do not share his ability to see at night.

He just wishes he could have stayed away for the rest of the night as well, but alas; the reach of his nightmares is not quite so far. At least while illusioned.

Once he sheds his illusion…

Unfortunately, he is not sure. Only while planning over what he needed to do for the next few days did he realize that he never spent a night in Trash Town in his original form, and thus, never got to find out how far his nightmares reach. The phases of the moon influences his reach, how awake or asleep he himself is, and many, many more factors, some he has not even figured out by now, probably. His experience tells him that, most likely, even if he had stayed at the beach, the Pokémon in town and the guild would have had a night of bad dreams, but he is not sure.

Millennia spent with this ability, and still, he does not know its every detail.

And a plan which relies on him being ‘not quite sure’ is not a plan he would ever attempt.

As such, he is approaching the guild, to find a place to rest close enough to ensure nightmares for its inhabitants. It would not do for there to be none, the only night that ‘Darcy’ stayed away.

The trees surrounding the cliff on top of which the guild’s entrance is situated seem like a good place, at first, but after he hears a suspicious rustling sound, Darkrai decides against it. The chance of encountering another Pokémon there is just a little too high, and he would not want to be surprised while basically asleep. Sure, they would not recognize him as ‘Darcy’ – Darkrai having dispelled the illusion the moment he realized that, at least for tonight, he could – and moreover, Dusknoir would give an alibi for ‘Darcy’ staying at the beach, but still… Still, he worries. Still, he does not truly want anyone from town to know his true appearance.

So, although he will most definitely go unrecognized, he’d rather not be attacked while… attempting what he had decided his plan for tonight would be.

As so, he continues his way, ending up in the cliffs behind the guild. He never paid particular attention to them before, but they are traversed easily enough – especially with his ability to float. Soon after, he finds himself a place between two high rocks, where he can lie down comfortably enough. It is somewhat shaped like a cradle, made out of stones, is it not? Although cradles are certainly supposed to be comfortable. But, obviously, here, some stones are digging into his back once he lies down… but it is not too painful, and Darkrai can sleep in almost any position and on every type of ground.

Putting his bag beneath his head – he had to carry it for the entire day, one of the many disbenefits of having had the argument with Pearl and shunning the guild ever since – he closes his eyes. For a while, he merely listens to the light breeze, makes out the quiet lapping of waves, smells the ocean and whatever plant life decided to grow amongst the rocks.

And to these sounds, he puts himself into a state of mediation. Oh, of course he could sleep. And he can admit that he is quite tired. Having to run two hours to reach a Dungeon, then making his way through it, and then taking two more hours on the way back (with no result to show for it) having an argument with Pearl, making his way to the beach, going through another Mystery Dungeon (just to enjoy the solace the end of it gives), being interrupted by Dusknoir and having quite a heavy conversation with him, and now climbing through cliffs… tends not to make someone less tired. The Dungeons are especially draining – no matter how easy a Dungeon may appear at first glance, something about them always exhausts everyone having to walk through them. Which is why it is generally recommended not to walk through more than one Dungeon a day, two at most.

So, yes, Darkrai would certainly like to sleep, but at the same time, he is not particularly feeling inclined to do so. This may be his only chance to finally slip into the nightmares of a few Pokémon, after all, and he will make the most of it.

But for that, he cannot sleep himself – if he is asleep while traversing the nightmares of others, a chance exists that his own nightmares may intervene, may mix with the others’ nightmares, and thus end up being a much more horrifying ordeal than they usually are. But if he merely meditates, that chance is eliminated, and as such, his choice is a simple one for today.

And so, he lets himself drift but not sleep, and as the noise of the breeze and waves, as the smell of the ocean and plants fall away, he starts to perceive the nightmares around him, the nightmares his presence is causing. For a few moments, he is disoriented—

She makes a grab for her child’s arm, but he falls, and screams, and she can do naught but watch—

—and the intruder attacks before he can help, and it cuts down, and his brother shouts in pain—

—but around her everything is the same, it keeps repeating, and repeating, and repeating, and no matter where she turns—

—it keeps advancing, and no matter how fast she runs—

—they just ignore him, and even—

—as a scream erupts from his throat—

—she just stares—

—and only pain—

—and fear—

—horror—

Darkrai violently pulls himself away from the all the nightmares that want his attention, from all the things he just experienced. This is… not how it should have gone. It had been decades since he allowed any nightmares not his own to swallow him during this state of meditation.

But it has also been over half a decade since he last travelled into the dreams of anyone, and as such, he decides to forgive himself… this once. As long as it will be decades until he lets it happen again, he decides.

Still, he cannot let this… mishap hold him back. Silencing whatever doubts want to infiltrate his mind, he carefully lets the dreams envelope him again. But this time, he ignores them, does not let them pull him under—

And then, he can almost taste a nightmare calling to him. It wants his attention, and he knows that he should ignore it, should search for the one nightmare he wants to search out above all others, should move on and not allow this dream to ensnare him, but…

No nightmare had called out to him like this in such a long time, and it became tiring, so very, very tiring…

He enters Pearl’s nightmare.

Disjointed emotions greet him, images flashing by so fast he could not make them out if he tried, feelings of dread, and fear, of regret, of anger, fury and so much more. It is a nightmare as he has not seen it in a very long time, and slowly, carefully, he spreads out his powers, to put some order in all of it.

Slowly, a scene takes on form around him.

Dreams can have many different origins. Some are formed from memories, and some only rely on them only in the broadest sense. Some stem from fear of specific events, while others may simply be based on negative emotions. Some show futures the dreamers do not want to come to pass, some show versions of past events that never happened. Some may not show what is frightening to the dreamer, but instead make them feel it in abstract ways. And that is just a tiny fraction of where dreams can take their inspiration.

So, while repeating nightmares exist, (Darkrai would know, of course, and unfortunately, it is mostly through experience), no one has just one specific nightmare they always have. Generally, the origins of each nightmare overlap each other.

This dream, Darkrai can make out clearly, relies heavily on emotions, but even more than that, on a certain memory. A memory he recognizes.

Which would explain why it called out to him so desperately – he was involved in it, and the nightmare wants him to look and marvel at it, wants to show off how beautifully it is fulfilling its purpose. Some nightmares tend to be like that.

Not really alive, but on their way to be so.

If he overly indulges it, if he uses his own powers consciously to make it even worse, there might be the chance of it becoming an endless nightmare; and if it becomes even worse than that, a Mystery Dungeon could even form within it. But it is seldom that any of these things happen, so Darkrai is not overly worried. As long as he proceeds carefully, there is nothing to fear.

At first, most things are blurry within the nightmare – dreams are based on recollections, and those tend to be faulty. Less important details become even more unimportant in dreams. The trees that Darkrai knows where there when the memory was created are mere smears made of greens and browns, no details to be made out, and the path lacks the little rocks, the small flowers, the grass growing there, lacks any of the details Darkrai knew to have been there.

Dreams like this always remind him of an unfinished aquarelle painting – rough details, but nothing more.

If the dreamer would look at any of these things, they would become clear and detailed, but as soon as the gaze disappeared, they would seem like they are now, again.

There are two exceptions to this lack of details in the moment, these being Pearl – except for her face, which she cannot perceive herself – and Dream-Darkrai – although he has the form of a Duskull.

For now, the real Darkrai is merely watching, a shadow that is no longer there the moment the dreamer looks in his direction, but—

It can be dangerous, of course. But Darkrai can still feel the nightmare calling, can feel its intoxication presence bearing down on him. This nightmare does not just want to be watched. This nightmare wants to gain another participant.

(This is wrong, a little voice in the back of his head tries to tell him. Nightmares cannot call out this way unless Darkrai himself—)

Darkrai decides that whatever reservations he had, they do not matter anymore. Within a blink of an eye, he joins into the dream, and although he is still Darkrai, he also appears as Darcy.

The moment this happens, Pearl’s face becomes more detailed, now that it also has his memories to draw on.

(Something about this should scare him, Darkrai thinks, but he cannot remember what it was.)

“And is… is Uxie truly alright?” Pearl asks, something about her voice telling Darkrai that something is off, something is not as it should be, but the day has been tiring and he does not care to decipher whatever that something might be.

“Of course he is, I already told you multiple times, if I remember correctly.” He barely holds back a scoff. Obviously he remembers correctly. Pearl has been needling him with the same question the entire day.

“I just… you know, want to make sure. Since he didn’t want to see me today, and I just thought that, maybe he isn’t feeling well. He’s not angry with me?”

(Around him, Darkrai can feel the nightmare build up slowly – and what a wicked little thing it is, acting as if it is just a mere recollection, while in reality, it is building up to show Pearl memories tinged in negative emotions. Memories she would normally want to lock away.)

This time, Darkrai scoffs. This is just so annoying. Perhaps he should just ignore her. But instead, he answers, like the good friend he is supposed to be, “He is not. I am sure he would have wanted to see you if I had—” He stops himself in his tracks, and with only minimal pause, corrects, “If he had been a little less tired.”

This slip-up… was dangerous. And should not have happened in the first place. Darkrai just stopped thinking about his answer for a moment! But Pearl won’t notice, anyways. She never does.

Rising anger can be felt throughout the memory-, no, the (dream, Darkrai reminds himself. This is a nightmare. Pearl’s nightmare.)

She notices. “What do you mean, if you had? If you had what?”

“What do you mean, if I had? I said if he had.”

“Not at first!” For a few seconds, she is silent, and Darkrai can feel the anger become greater as the confusion abates, as it is replaced by a realization. “You-you didn’t even ask him, did you?!”

(But why should he feel anger? He wonders. He is annoyed, not angry. Before he can make out the answer, the dream has moved on, and he has to continue.)

Darkrai gasps in mock-offence to mask his shock. How did she figure it out?! He made sure never to slip up every time she asked her questions over the day, and this just now… was such a small mistake, she should never have noticed!

“Of course I asked him,” he therefore drawls, as if she did not just manage to catch him in a lie. “Why would you ever need to doubt me?”

“Because you constantly give me reasons to doubt you! You keep so many secrets, and I’m honestly starting to think that you have no real reasons for that!” she shouts back, her voice getting higher in pitch, and Darkrai can feel the headache coming on at that. As well as anger, righteous anger – a foreign emotion.

(A foreign emotion. He knows that something about that should make him realize something, he knows that something about all of this is wrong, but--)

“I do not,” he scoffs back, “You must be imagining things.”

(Something about this is strange, he thinks, but he cannot put a finger on why. It feels almost as if this has already happened, but… no, how should it? What a strange sense of déjà vu.)

Anger, hurt, sadness, but above it all, fury.

“I am not! Like, take Uxie! You’ve known him for how long? And you knew that he would be at Fogbound Lake, but you still wanted to stop me from going, to stop me from talking to one of the few Pokémon who might have known something about my memory loss!”

Darkrai grimaces. It does not show beneath his illusion.

“So tell me, why?! Why do you always keep secrets, even if they concern me, huh?!”

(There are a few moments where it almost seems like different words are said, like they are overlapping, to form a new word, to create a new—

A new—

A new what?)

For a few moments, a few too many moments, he cannot think of a good lie to explain it. So instead, he says, “Don’t flatter yourself. Your importance, when it comes to these things, is positively non-existent.”

It is the wrong thing to say. He knows it the moment the words leave his mouth, and Pearl, very obviously, does too. He can feel her fury rise at his words, he can feel the distrust grow, he can feel—

He can even feel hate.

“What the actual-, Darcy, what is WRONG with you?! Are we not friends?!”

And oh, how he feels like telling her that they are not—

He laughs. “Of course we are not. Who would ever want to be friends with you? You are a useless, annoying little brat and I rue the day I ever found you on the beach. I should have just let you—”

No. No, no, no. This is not what he said! With a jolt, he realizes anew that this is a nightmare. This-this is still a bad dream. A nightmare. For a moment, it wanted to make him act more in tune with Pearl’s fears, not her memory.

And for a moment, Darkrai got so caught up in replaying the memory it was based off of, he started forgetting that it had already happened. But the nightmare’s influence started to creep in, and instead of keeping the memory on track, he allowed Pearl’s fears to take over and—

He forces the dream back into its state as a memory.

(But why? He already lived through it. There is no reason to--)

(The nightmare calls to him. He heeds its call.)

“What is up with this sudden interrogation?” he asks instead of answering, “Let us simply return to the guild and—”

“NO!” Pearl shrieks, “You won’t get to talk your way out again! Just-just give me a reason!” And at the last word, her voice breaks, making her sentence end in a pitiful whisper. “Just tell me why you always keep these secrets. Just… please.” Sadness. Lethargy. Fear. Self-doubt.

And a chance. Darkrai knows that this is his chance to backtrack. Make up a reason that will work for now.

For a moment, he tries to rear back – he does not need to relive this! This-this mistake!

But time does not stop in dreams, and for some reason he cannot make it do so!

(It worries him. No, it makes him panicked. But the panic is deep down, so very deep down, and even though he tries to reach for it, it remains just as deep as before.)

His voice is icy as he answers. “I do not need to tell you. Besides, it is not as if there is a reason for you to know.”

Anger, exploding outwards. An underlining note of… disappointment? But mostly, overwhelming fury.

“We are friends! We are an exploration team! We spend every day together, every hour, and you want to tell me I don’t deserve to FUCKING KNOW?!”

“Exactly,” he hisses, thoroughly annoyed at her, honestly, childish antics.

Once again, the wrong answer.

“Well, then just… scram! Stop being friends with me! Get lost!”

Get lost—

Get lost. The words echo in Darkrai’s mind, play off bad memories, and he cannot stop them. They repeat, repeat, repeat—

Get lost, get lost, get lost—

He makes to hit Pearl and stops barely in front of her face. Her eyes widen as she notices the position of his hand, and Darkrai—

Darkrai—

Panics. He draws his hand back, puts it on his back, grabs it with his other hand, so hard that he can feel his claws almost drawing blood—

He scoffs as he looks away. Because he hates looking at her face, he tells himself.

(Because he does not want to see the fear in her eyes, he knows. Because he cannot bear to see the betrayal which must show clearly. Because he almost-, he almost—)

“Please, we were never friends to begin with, you brat. Don’t lie to yourself.”

Pearls eyes grow wider, and then, in a matter of seconds, they narrow. “Then get lost! Just get fucking lost!”

And the words continue repeating, and Darkrai turns around, a last scoff never leaving his throat before he makes his way to somewhere else, somewhere far from her, just somewhere else—

Get lost—

Get lost, he can hear Cresselia shout at him.

Never friends, echoes, echoes. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about that. Only Pearl cares. She must care. He must have hurt her.

The wind against his face, his own hand raised, about to hit—

Get lost—

I wish you’d never been born! She shouts, and he doesn’t even know who it is, anymore—

— never friends, you brat—

— to think someone would ever be your friend—

— lonely, he is so lonely—

— she stares at the raised hand, at the eye, so very cold—

— get lost—

— pain, she can only feel pain, but why—

— he is in so much pain—

— shouting her name, she thinks, not that she can truly understand, but she’d gladly take the—

—and he lies there, in pain—

— take what? The confusion hurts even more than the following pain—

— And that gaze, with such disappointment—

— a raised hand, about to hit—

— get lost!—

— never friends—

— wish you’d die—

— all alone now and—

Darkrai jerks awake with a shout.

And for a few moments, he can do nothing but lie there in confusion, as his heart races within his chest, as uneven gasps for air make him dizzy, as he doesn’t recognize where he is because he cannot get his eye to focus, as his chest gets tighter, tighter, tighter still—

He forces himself to take deep breaths, even if it hurts, even if he can feel his chest shudder painfully with each, even if it feels as if it changes nothing. And he repeats doing so, repeats just breathing, as slowly and deep as he can manage, in through his nose, out through his mouth. Some breaths do it the other way around, some do both ways at the same times, some breaths refuse to do it either way. But he dares not stop, and instead forces his body to just continue breathing, as much as he can manage.

And as he closes his eye, unclenches his hands, stops biting down quite so hard on his teeth, eliminates any and all thoughts which try to creep into his mind,…

Slowly, ever so slowly, he stops panicking.

And as he finally does, he forces himself to sit upright, open his eye, and slowly, it manages to focus on the rocks before him. His chest still feels awfully tight, but that is… acceptable.

This…

This was not supposed to happen. He should have noticed when he fell asleep. He should not have let himself be entranced by Pearl’s nightmare, he should not allowed their nightmares to mingle. But most importantly, he should not have lost control over the nightmare.

This is exactly the reason why he never tries to travel through nightmares while he himself sleeps. The results are always catastrophic. He should have noticed that something was wrong the moment he let himself be mesmerized by a nightmare.

But he did, and… he became horrified. The moment he remembers even a mere fragment of what the nightmare showed him, his heart picks up again, and so, he forces the memory down.

He was careless. Nothing more, nothing less.

But the sky is still dark, and the night is still long, and really, he will… he will be more careful, now. He needs to be more careful. He is not about to just… abandon his plans, after all. Not because of a small setback such as this.

And when he decided to creep into the nightmares of the Pokémon around him, he did so with the intention of learning Dusknoir’s fears, and so he will learn them.

He does not lie down again – in fact, he takes the bag away from where his head had been, and instead settles it on his lap. Then, he repositions himself, so that his back is now against one of the two cradling rocks instead. It is digging into his back uncomfortably – which is ideal. Like this, the chances of falling asleep will be lessened considerably.

And then, he leans back his head, to stare at the night sky. The stars look beautiful tonight, even if the moon’s light steals some of their glory. That is how the moon has always been.

This time, he starts tracing the stars with his eyes to ease his mind into its meditative state. He looks for the many constellations which have been imagined, recalls the names they have been assigned, tries to figure out the pictures the names describe. Some of the constellations and names have long since died with those who saw them, and the ones who saw the pictures in the stars, who gave them names, might be long gone… But still, in the memories of the few who have lived for millennia, they still linger. Darkrai likes to remember.

And slowly, the stars and physical world fade, and Darkrai once again finds himself in the realm of dreams. This time, he does not let any of the surrounding nightmares swallow him, does not listen to any bad dreams which might be calling out to him, and most decidedly ignores Pearl’s—

Well, at least he would ignore her dream, if it was still there. But it, most definitely, is not. But why? All those around him have nightmares! Even if-

Even if his interference meant she got consumed by it, got caught within it, it would still be there!

No matter how bad he might have made it, it would still be there!

So why is there no dream—

Darkrai interrupts his own increasingly panicked thoughts. It is almost embarrassing, but there is a rather simple explanation for it: Pearl must be awake. Which… makes sense.

Darkrai’s interference made the dream so horrible that even he, himself… lost his composure for a few moments, making him wake up. So, most likely, the same happened to her.

No reason to panic, therefore. Not that he did. He would not even care if his interference got Pearl caught in an endless nightmare. No, he would merely be annoyed at the stop that this would put on his plans. And, of course, the chance that this could change the future noticeably. Maybe even to a degree where Dialga would notice a certain time traveller (who is not Pearl). Which would be sub-optimal.

In any way, her bad dream is gone. Which is good for Darkrai, since now, he does not even need to ignore it. Instead, he searches through the surrounding dreams, hoping that Dusknoir went to sleep tonight. He should, probably. Considering that it is Dusknoir, he might not go to sleep, just to spite Darkrai, without even knowing it.

But finally, he finds the ghost’s dream.

The scene into which Darkrai creeps is… laughably predictable. Oh, it is quite an enjoyable nightmare, Darkrai will give it that, what with it playing out within the eternal darkness of a paralysed world. Which is something Darkrai still desires.

The dream even features the ruins of Temporal Tower in the distance! How amazing. Darkrai is not quite sure if it actually looks like that in the future, or if it is Dusknoir’s imagination worsening it – Darkrai’s times spent in the future were quite short, and as far away from Primal Dialga as possible, so his knowledge about that topic is lacking. But still, a destroyed Temporal Tower, no matter its realness, is something he greatly enjoys. Both Dialga and Palkia certainly deserve to be brought down from their high Rapidash.

This nightmare, of course, does feature Primal Dialga, standing in a barren field, and before it, a grovelling Dusknoir – which is an amusing enough sight that Darkrai does not immediately change the nightmare.

But, well, this was quite foreseeable, was it not? Most henchmen fear the wrath of their superior. Darkrai’s certainly always do. But it really does not give him any insight as to how to use (or abuse) the knowledge of this particular fear. It is not as if Darkrai could create an illusion of Primal Dialga to make Dusknoir do his bidding, believing to be serving the real one. Darkrai can create illusions, of course, but not of this scale. And he seriously doubts that Uxie would help him do so, if asked.

So, no, this fear is very much worthless to him.

He stares at Dusknoir, who is still trying to apologize to the Primal Dialga the nightmare had created. Apologizing for letting ‘them’ get away, promising that he will make it up, pleading to please grant him another chance, he can do it, he just needs another chance—

It is annoying to listen to this drivel. Darkrai has heard things like this numerous times.

The image of Primal Dialga which Dusknoir evoked does nothing but growl – as of yet, the dream has not yet come to a conclusion. In fact, Darkrai can tell, it never will – the fear of not knowing whether Dusknoir will be forgiven or not is much more horrifying. To feel that, the next second, something bad will come, but it does not, and so the fear rises, and repeats itself, building on top of itself—

Yes, this is a much worse nightmare than any resolution could ever create. And still, it is dissatisfying. At least for Darkrai. What good is it to know that Dusknoir fears to anger Primal Dialga? Everyone with just an ounce of self-preservation would. And that, Dusknoir certainly has in spades.

As such, Darkrai finally lets the nightmare change – careful and slowly, ever so slowly, as to not let his influence be noticed, he lets Primal Dialga fade, leaving the nightmare without an obvious antagonist. Which means that Dusknoir’s mind will have to come up with another fear.

And that, it does. The scenery doesn’t change noticeably – it is still mostly filled with darkness, although the remnants of Temporal Tower start to fade away. Instead, it becomes an even more nondescript area than it was before. A barren field, some dead trees, some stones and boulders. Nothing of it is very detailed, telling Darkrai that, for the most part, the dream will not concentrate on the where. No, whatever fear is emerging now, it is not bound to a specific place. Which also means that, whatever fear this is, it is most likely not tied to just one specific memory. Darkrai watches.

Unfortunately, this fear, as well, is not surprising: Before Darkrai’s eyes, Dusknoir starts to fade away, and although he tries to outrun his fate, tries to fight against it, he continues to disappear. The same happens to the few things surrounding him, and in the distance, Darkrai can even hear some panicked shouts. Well. How very… simple.

Just as the dream before, Dusknoir’s disappearing will not find an end, until Darkrai forces one upon it. Another dream where no end is worse than an end. But Darkrai not feeling merciful, new alliance with Dusknoir or not, and so he does not interfere.

Still, this fear is of no particular help to Darkrai. So Dusknoir fears to fade from existence. Though luck, because that is exactly what Darkrai plans to gift him once he has the chance. Moreover, it is also not really a fear Darkrai can utilize. Grovyle is already doing much better work at that through gathering the Time Gears.

It seems as if he is still not done with Dusknoir, today.

Darkrai digs deeper, and this time, he does not let the nightmare do all the work on its own – instead, he forces it to rely on memories. This could make his influence in the dream more obvious, of course, but he has been doing this for millennia. Dusknoir won’t notice the interference so easily.

And finally, the dreamscape starts to change into something else. It is not easy for Darkrai to make it do so – the more memories of a dreamer he knows, the more he can influence their weight on a dream, and unfortunately, in Dusknoir’s case, he knows almost none.

Still, he evidently knows enough, still, as Dusknoir stops trying to fight his fading away and instead grows smaller, smaller, until he takes on the form of a Dusklops.

Ah, so it must be an old memory.

And nefore the Dusklops which is actually Dusknoir, a Duskull appears, and the two… hug. Now this is interesting. A word is muttered, and if this was not a nightmare, Darkrai would be too far away to hear it. But like this, he knows that Dusknoir mutters “Dushika.” It is a name, most likely belonging to the Duskull.

Darkrai’s thesis is proven correct when the Duskull – a young girl, Darkrai assumes, as he hears her voice – answers with a “Dejan”, and oh, now that is knowledge Darkrai most certainly can use! To get granted the knowledge of Dusknoir’s name like this is just splendid! Darkrai has seen the likes of Dusknoir a few times in the past, and they always, without fail, hate anyone knowing their name, seemingly without any proper reason to do so.

It is something so very private, and to see someone possess even though they hid it, always riles them up. Dusknoir will be no different, Darkrai is sure.

The nightmare, meanwhile, goes on, and, as things often do in dreams, the Duskull starts to fall apart, turns to dust, as Dusklops tries to keep her together. A pained shout leaves his throat, and Darkrai can admit that he delights in it.

Nightmares never allow anyone reprieve from their sorrow. The least Darkrai can do is relish in it.

She must have died at some point, Darkrai surmises. The how, of course, is open still. The memory turned into a proper nightmare too fast to find out.

But the night is… not young, anymore, but still long enough, and so, Darkrai will find out. There are too many questions, still, too many possible ways to threaten Dusknoir if only he knew – is she family? Something else? How did she die?

Carefully, Darkrai weaves more memories into the dream and then—

Dusknoir, once again in his current form, turns around and stares at him. It completely destroys Darkrai’s concentration, and for a moment, he can do naught but stare back. It has… been some time since anyone noticed him in their dreams. He really is out of practice, is he not?

His presence as a foreigner must be obvious, because Dusknoir attacks immediately. Darkrai dances out of the way, easily. This is still a nightmare, and no matter how experienced a common Pokémon might be with dreams, Darkrai is still ruler over them. Evading the attack of a dreamer is as easy as breathing.

Dusknoir does not let it hold him back, and turns to attack again, and again, and again, and Darkrai evades each and every one of the attacks.

He could, of course, simply leave Dusknoir’s nightmare, be done with it for the night, but that is just not Darkrai’s style. And since he can finally appear in his true form, he should most definitely use it to his advantage.

And so, he straightens and stares at Dusknoir – who is, unfortunately, still taller. “A good try,” he tells him calmly, “But you will not manage to hit me.”

“Who ARE you?!” Dusknoir shouts back at him, his usual calm completely gone.

Darkrai laughs. “If this is not quite the intriguing mystery.” And he lets Dusknoir simmer in silence. A silence which Dusknoir is not able to keep up for very long.

“Was it you who made me remember that?”

Darkrai smiles. “How smart, Dejan.”

Dusknoir jerks away as if hit.

As Darkrai described, before. And it will be even more delightful once he does it in the form of ‘Darcy’. He will have to hold himself back, the next few weeks, as to not give Dusknoir any bad ideas.

But Darkrai is not done. Finally, finally he has the chance to pride himself on his accomplishments, because no one will ever be able to put Duskull and Darkrai – the, as of now, still unknown entity only Dusknoir met in a dream – next to each other and realize that they are one and the same.

As such, he stares at Dusknoir intently, and then, changes the nightmare once again to field with the ruined Temporal Tower in the distance of before. Behind him, the Dream-version of Primal Dialga comes into being.

And then, he speaks. “You know, the world I saw in your dreams…” He makes a pause for dramatic effect. Dusknoir makes no turn to interrupt, perhaps cowed by seeing Darkrai’s powers just now. “It truly elates me to know how beautifully my plans will come to fruition.”

This, as expected, makes Dusknoir speak up – and although he certainly tries to stay calm, his voice is just not quite as he might want it to sound. “What do you mean, your plans?”

It is amazing how distraught he is. Darkrai stares at the rubble around them, and finally answers when it seems as if Dusknoir is about to attack again.

“Why, Temporal Tower did not collapse on its own, did it?” He laughs. He practiced his laugh for years, he will make use of it whenever he can!

“You—”

“Yes,” Darkrai interrupts, looking to the side, as if he is annoyed (which he, admittedly, is starting to become), “I am the one behind that. Now, it has been a pleasure making your acquaintance, but I still have more important things to do, so I will take my leave.”

“Don’t you dare—” Dusknoir shouts, trying to make a grab for Darkrai, but he is too late.

Darkrai opens his eye to a pre-dawn sky. It seems as if he spent quite some time in Dusknoir’s nightmare, but it was, most decidedly, time well spent.

He found out numerous things, and even managed to rile Dusknoir up a little. His previous mishap with Pearl’s dream is really of no consequence, if weighed against this success.

The only thing left to do, is, most likely, to return to the beach for now, so that ‘Darcy’ can return from there, once the sun has come out. After all, there was an eyewitness to confirm that he spent his entire night there. Ah, if Dusknoir only realized the humour of having searched Darkrai out, being the one to enable him to search through his nightmares, in the first place!

And so, Darkrai stands up and stretches a little – spending half the night in the same position is, of course, not very kind on the joints. After that is done, he picks up the bag, makes sure that none of its contents got damaged – and that the Relic Fragment is still in there, since he stopped wearing it around his neck once he got the bag – and, after that, puts the bag over his shoulder to carry it once again. After a last glance at the sky – and so very often he wishes that night would not ever have to end – he starts the climb out of the cliffs.

Everything goes safely, and finally, Darkrai stands, once again, before the steps leading up to the guild. He could look up, sure, but decides to ignore it instead, and look in the direction of the beach. He will have to look at the ugly imitation of Wigglytuff’s head soon enough, so best to spare himself at least one look.

This, in hindsight, is quite the unfortunate decision.

Because if he had looked up, he might have noticed a very enraged Dusknoir leaving the entrance and preparing to attack him, would have noticed that, behind him, Chatot was fluttering his wings in clear confusion, maybe he would have even seen Wigglytuff’s pink ears appear on top of the ladder. But alas, he did not, and as such, Dusknoir’s Shadow Ball hit him straight in the back, sending him careen over the ground.

He recovers quickly, of course – the attack was, certainly, incredibly strong, but Darkrai is no longer hiding behind an illusion and as such not quite so disgustingly… weak. Gathering himself, he turns around – and sees not just Dusknoir, but just behind him Wigglytuff, as well as Chatot.

Either of those he could certainly take on while on their own, but if they gang up on him?

Darn it, darn it, darn it! He should have known that Dusknoir might wake up and be rather intent on figuring out who visited his nightmare! He should have just disappeared, instead of staying to gloat, darn it!

Well, he’s working on it, alright? He knows that his gloating has gotten him into unnecessary trouble more than once, but it just feels so great to do it, every time!

Well, it matters not, now. What matters now is only getting away. As he evades yet another Shadow Ball, he thinks on the direction.

Maybe just the opposite direction of the town, hope to lose their trail and then return later in the day? But what if Dusknoir went to find ‘Darcy’? He would not find him at the beach, and possible draw the worst conclusions!

So, the town? Raise a ruckus, try to slip away as a shadow? No, too dangerous, this way he would just create more enemies to evade!

The guild? Blocked by the rapidly approaching Dusknoir, Wigglytuff and Chatot. Darkrai moves out of the way of another attack – a Confuse Ray, it seems – and answers with an Ominous Wind. Sure, ‘Darcy’ knows the attack as well, but currently, that is not quite so important!

So that just leaves the beach, but if he—

And suddenly, he has an idea. Darkrai tries to evade another attack – this time by Wigglytuff, he thinks – the idea becomes a plan, and before any of them can attack again, he attacks with Dark Void. Expectedly, it only works on Chatot, both Wigglytuff and Dusknoir being strong enough to withstand it at least once. No matter. They will surely be distraught enough by Chatot’s very obvious nightmares – at least Wigglytuff – to give him the chance to flee.

He wastes no time and instead turns to the shadows, fleeing through them, weaving erratically from one side to the other to evade any and all attacks. Finally, he flees into the treeline, but does not allow himself to move out of the shadows. Evading trees is much harder like this, but seeing him here, between all the other shadows, will be incredibly hard.

Hopefully, they will be distracted by this move, trying to find him in the forest while he has already continued on. And continue on he does, as fast as he can, until he finds himself on the edge to the beach. After waiting for a few moments – listening, waiting, if there will be an attack – he finally moves out of the shadows and takes on his proper form again. Ugh, he forgot how sometimes travelling through the shadows gives him a headache, which is something he can feel right now.

But there is no time to waste on that! Instead, he concentrates on assuming his illusion again, but it takes long, so thrice-cursed long! Sure, a few years ago, he would have been proud to say that he can take on a full illusion in just beneath two minutes, but now, with his heart beating at least twice in the span of a single second, with each second costing him more of his lead, with the chance of Dusknoir or Wigglytuff catching up to him getting higher each moment, it is too long!

But finally, finally, he judges the illusion finished enough – and much too close, much too close he can already hear a voice. It might be Wigglytuff, it might be someone else, woken by the ruckus, he cares not to find out. Darkrai moves away from the trees he was hiding between. While he hurries unto the beach, he rummages through the bag he is still carrying, until his hand tightens around what he was searching – a Sleep Seed, so simple looking, almost nondescript, but the most vital part of his plan.

His bag—

Darn it, his bag! They must have seen him carry his bag while in his true form, and if he still carries it as a Duskull, there will be questions! Darn it, darn it! The voice is much closer now, joined by another, cautioning it, telling it to be careful, and Darkrai has no more time!

He tears the bag down from his shoulder, and with as much power as he can muster, throws it into the treeline surrounding the beach. It-, It must be enough. He can just claim it got stolen!

If everything goes as he hoped, everyone will be much too busy concentrating on ‘Darcy’, anyways, than to look through the trees, and once everything has cooled down, Darkrai can, he can—

The voice is now a shadow, peeking through the trees, and although Darkrai is sure that they have not yet seen him – no, most likely, they are looking the direction the bag landed, to the noise they must have heard – he realizes that he truly has run out of time. He moves just a few paces to the side, just to get as far away from his hidden bag as possible, and then, without doubting his plan, he gulps down the Sleep Seed.

His pursuers will not find Darkrai again, but they will find poor, unfortunate Darcy, put to sleep by the being they just fought. The conclusion will be clear, must be clear – after all, they just saw the Pokémon put Chatot to sleep with a single attack.

It will be obvious that poor, unfortunate Darcy just tried to get back to the guild, after sulking for the entire night, and was attacked by that mysterious Pokémon. Not being quite as strong as Wigglytuff or Dusknoir, he was incapacitated almost immediately.

And as the Sleep Seed pulls him under, Darkrai does not fight it. He feels his body impact with the sand, vaguely, and then, there are only nightmares.

Notes:

Darkrai, pointing at Dusknoir: look at this henchman I found. He’s incredibly capable at what he does. I hate him so much.

So, hey, new chapter! Only took me almost two months. Finals are brutal. Not quite sure when the next update will be, since the chapters have been varying degrees of different to my initial writing, with this one sharing almost nothing with the original. Which means that the next chapters will have to go through serious re-writing and editing.

As I previously stated, I just want to get the best story out that I can. When I started writing, I knew nothing about my readers. And so I wrote for a big unknown, and I did it cautiously. But by now, I have come to know my readers, and as such, I realized that I can actually go with many of my initial ideas, because you seem to be greatly enjoying them! Which makes me so very happy, and I therefore want to go above and beyond with what I deliver to you.

So yeah. Now, unto more chapter-related stuff!
In this chapter, we can see Darkrai and Dusknoir interact closely, and as such, I sat down and tried to figure out their approaches to lying. As many people have noted in the previous chapters, Dusknoir is, objectively speaking, the better liar. And I tried to figure out what that would do to the dynamic, and actually, what Dusknoir’s and Darkrai’s approaches to lying are.
In this story, Darkrai excels more at being a manipulator than a liar. These two skills generally go hand-in-hand, and Darkrai is certainly not a bad liar. His style of lying relies on lies which are based on truth, which makes them much harder to see through – in every story he tells, he will make sure to hide the lies among real things, and therefore, picking them apart becomes almost impossible. Even for himself. While a lot of his lying happens unconsciously, he also knows his style of lying, which is why he did not make as great of an effort to hide his true character as he could have – he knew that, the more time passed, the harder it would become for him to play that role, and so, he subconsciously showed true parts of himself, while hiding others (those less acceptable, mostly) between lies.
Dusknoir, in a stark contrast to that, is a good liar, and from this, his abilities of manipulation stem. Dusknoir’s lies are not based in truth at all – he presents to others a persona which has almost nothing to do with how he truly is. Once that lie is gone, however, his need to hide also sinks drastically – in this chapter, we could see him trying to hold on to his lies, but the way he tried to patch them up was in no way truly convincing, even if his interlocutor would not have happened to be Darkrai.
Darkrai’s manipulations count in whoever he is trying to manipulate. For Pearl, he therefore plays more of a friendly role, and for Dusknoir, he shows himself more in his true light. This has absolutely nothing to do with trust – he merely observes what will serve him better in each case, and then uses that. This is what makes his manipulations extremely persuasive. Moreover, even if his manipulations might be based in lies, they are also always based in truth, too. If someone were to try to see through them, they would find some truth, and if you find some truth, you will always be more likely to tell yourself that, well, then the lies must also be truth.
For Dusknoir, if you were to take away the lies, he could no longer manipulate anyone quite as easily – if at all. His manipulations completely rely on him being able to keep the lie convincing. Once his lies are gone, he becomes a pretty straightforward character.

Darkrai, unlike that, cannot be separated from his lies.

Also, in other news, in this chapter we also see Darkrai acting like a coward in battle. This was one of the things which, when I initially started working on the story, gave me a little pause – Cresselia, in canon, tells that Darkrai will generally avoid conflict; but I could not just have him run from every battle. And as such, I decided on Darkrai behaving like a big bully – he has fun picking on those weaker than him, but the moment someone seems stronger, he turns around and runs away (ahem, tactically retreats in a swift fashion).

Also, this fic has, until now, been told in a very linear fashion. At first, I tried to do this for this chapter as well, but it just would not work, and I kept rewriting it, until I took a step back and asked myself if it wouldn’t work better if I broke it up into non-linear parts. Which I evidently did.
Now, I ask: What are your thoughts on this? I realize that a change such as this so far in can be a little disconcerting, and so, I really want to know the opinions on it!

Have a nice month, enjoy summer, if you can! Until we read each other again.

Edit Hiatus Update (06.11.2022):
mainly just flow-edits
more info: see End Note of next chapter, no space left here

Chapter 12: Dungeons and... Darkrai?

Summary:

Last Chapter: After Darkrai and Pearl split up because of an argument, Dusknoir searched out Darkrai. The two came to a sort-of understanding and alliance. After this pact was created, Darkrai, in his original form, searched out the guild to creep through some of their nightmares. However, once morning dawned, he was ambushed by Dusknoir, Wigglytuff and Chatot and only managed to escape with the help of a convoluted plan, which ended in him falling asleep.

Notes:

Guys, PLEASE, you cannot keep doing this to my poor heart. I have now been gifted TWO MORE pieces of fanart, and I am actually about to cry.
One is by Lohikäärme and can be found here: https://imgur.com/IYgiGr1
The other was created by baroness_faron and can be found here: https://sta.sh/0205e8zampcv
Please check both of them out, not only their amazing artworks, but their ao3 accounts and stories are also amazing!!

Now, with this having been said, this chapter is shorter than my usual ones have grown to be, but I am currently somewhat sick AND I had a busy month, which really does not mix together well. In the end, I decided that if I was a reader, I'd rather have a shorter chapter sooner, than wait longer for a long chapter. So a short chapter you will get! Enjoy!

Darkrai wakes slowly. His eye is the first to react, and so he opens it, but he can barely understand what things it’s trying to make him see; and as someone speaks to him, he realizes that he does not understand whatever it is they are saying. His body might, technically, be awake, but he knows that his mind is most decidedly not. A quiet voice most likely stemming from his subconsciousness, so quiet that he would not hear it if his thoughts were busy with anything but being sluggish, tells him that whatever he does, he should not speak, for now. Not until he has properly woken up.

He's always been quite useless when tired, he faintly recalls. Experience tells him that, if he does not force himself to remain silent now, he will talk without stop. And for some reason, that is bad. His sleep-addled mind has not caught up enough yet to tell him why it’s bad, but he decides to believe it, nonetheless.

But why did he fall asleep in the first place? He does not quite remember. And which side did he fall asleep on? His right or his left?

… It needs some time until he realizes that, beside the first question, it really does not matter.

He cannot quite gauge how much time passes – it could have been not even two minutes, it could just as well have been twenty – but then, the voice talking to him seems to become clearer, and Darkrai’s thoughts start picking up speed, and then, he remembers. Just like that, his thoughts and memories truly start racing through his mind.

The plan, his plan—

He closes and opens his eye anew, and the ceiling of his room in the guild comes into focus. Since he is here, does this mean… Did they fall for it? Or did they drop him off here to await his coming trial? He forcefully calms his rapidly beating heart, and instead, carefully looks around.

As he turns his head to the side, he sees…

Blue feathers. A beak. Big eyes, staring at him.

“Pearl,” he states, and his voice comes out much raspier than he intends it to. Well. Maybe that will help to sell the story he will surely have to tell soon.

As he says her name, some emotion flashes behind her eyes, but it passes before Darkrai even has the chance to decipher it, and then, she smiles, hiding whatever was there before. “Finally woke up properly, sleepyhead?”

Darkai wants to deny that he is such – there is a difference between simply being a sleepyhead and putting oneself to sleep with the help of a Sleep Seed – but he realizes that it would not quite help his plans if he did that.

Instead, he just hums – whether it is to be interpreted as agreement or not is not even clear to him.

Pearl just stares at him, making him realize that he still needs to…

Well. Pearl seems to be… not as angry at him as she was yesterday. Which means that he might actually have a chance of regaining her favour, but only if he apologizes.

Unfortunately, Darkrai absolutely loathes apologizing, even if he does not mean it. Just the empty words ‘I am sorry’ or ‘I apologize’… They insinuate that he was wrong about something, and that… is just untrue. If he was ever truly wrong about something – which he is not, but that is beside the point – well, in those cases, he would not use words to show that.

But he cannot tell Pearl that he is ‘Sorry’ without using words, so he will have to use them in a way that make her believe that he is actually apologizing, while he is not doing that and… well, that is complicated. And he has barely woken up. Figuring such things out already, how annoying.

At least sometimes, just insinuating that he is about to do it will be enough, and he hopes that this time… that will be enough.

“Pearl, I…” he trails off, as if thinking about what he says next – and hey, he is actually doing that! “About yesterday, I wanted… There is…”

She just stares at him. Darn it! Does she want to make him as uncomfortable as possible?

He sighs, heavily, and moves to sit up. He can feel some pain in his back as he does so – most likely, Dusknoir’s attack must have agitated the scars he carries there. Which is quite unfortunate. He does not wince, of course, but Pearl still moves to help him sit up. For a moment, he wonders what it must look like with the illusion, and then decides that he truly does not care.

Finally, he is upright again, and looking at the wall opposite the window. Judging by the light, it must be around midday.

He looks away from the wall and instead at Pearl, who is standing beside him, just next to her own bed. When they were initially given this room, he allowed her to be closer to the walls, while he took the place next to the door – which most definitely had nothing to do with giving himself an easier path to flee in case of danger. He would never.

She has still not said anything, but he notices that her eyes show rather prominent bags beneath them – even more obvious than after other nights.

(Of course he does not feel bad for being the one to have caused that.)

“Yesterday, I… said some things,” Darkrai starts anew, “Or… well, I also did not say some things, and I wanted to…”

Come on, interrupt him! Tell him that it’s already forgiven and forgotten, that she realized that the argument was stupid, anyways! Don’t let him actually say the accursed words out loud!

As he lets the silence grow, Pearl finally shows some mercy. “Apologize?” she asks, and Darkrai jumps on the chance for evasion she has now given him. Everything to not have to say that cursed word!

“Yes. I… I wanted to do that. I did not mean what I said.” He looks away from her, as if in shame. Or maybe, she is just staring at him rather uncomfortably. Who knows. “And I did not mean to hurt you. Not that I did. Well, physically at least, I guess. Mentally I might have. Well.”

Ugh, why is he so bad at this?! Sure, not meaning it makes it harder, but he never has problems with lying, except when it comes to apologies, apparently! Darn it, this is a horrible apology. And that is counting in most apologies he had given his sister in the past (honest or not).

Maybe if he tries to explain, it will help?

“But I… unfortunately… got caught up in some emotions and memories and…”

This time he trails off because he realizes what he had just been saying. That was much too close to the truth! Admitting that he, mighty Darkrai, ruler over nightmares, almost let his emotions and memories dictate his actions? This is much too far!

Finally, it is Pearl who sighs. “I… when I told you to get lost, I did not mean it. I guess I also got caught up in emotions. But…” She pauses, as if thinking about whether to say what is on her mind or not. And in the end, decides to do so.

“Why do you always lie to me, Darcy?”

He averts his gaze, feeling as if this is the wrong action immediately. But how dare she try to make him look at her? Make him apologize?

Make him feel bad about his treatment of her?!

He… truly hates her.

“I…” He tries, and fails to say. This is where he lies, as usual, no matter the taste the words leave in his mouth. Because there is nothing else he can do, is there? Never has been, never will be.

“I do not always lie to you. I just-, No, don’t interrupt, I just… Sometimes I… I might… omit some things. But not things which might hurt you, I swear.” And he looks at her straight at her, as if he actually means it.

She looks back, her eyes wide, and Darkrai realizes that she is actually willing to believe him.

He knew that she would.

(He does not feel bad for using this against her.)

(He does not.)

“There are just some things which I think are not… important, or which I don’t want to share. Or which I know would only burden you uselessly. And then I just… don’t say anything.”

“But we are friends, are we not?” she asks, her eyebrows drawn together in a pleading motion, her hands clenched before her chest, trying to hold each other still, but failing miserably.

“I… Yes. We are friends. I did not mean what I said… yesterday. I just got… angry, and wanted to hurt you. Which was…” He cannot bring himself to say ‘wrong’, and instead stares at the ground off to the side. This is… too much! He never wanted to go in depth with all of this!

He huffs before he can stop himself. “Let us just move on. I am still willing to be your friend, that, I promise you. Are you willing to be mine?” He finally looks at Pearl again, and this time, she is the one averting her gaze.

She slowly looks at him again, takes a deep breath, and then, forces a smile upon her face. “I never stopped.”

… How sappy. If she now tries to hug him, he might still attack her. He does not do well with too much physical contact. In fact, he’d prefer if there was no physical contact with him, at all, ever.

Luckily, she does not try to do so. Instead, she walks over to her own bed, and with a heavy sigh, sits down. Is everything back to normal, then?

“I tell you, this morning was strange,” she starts, and yes, apparently they are just going to pretend it is.

“Strange?” Darkrai puts his head to the side, miming interest.

Pearl nods. “Yeah. Apparently, Dusknoir, Chatot and the Guildmaster tried to apprehend a strange Pokémon, but after a short battle, it fled and—”

“DUSKULL!” a voice interrupts her, having come from behind Darkrai – where the entrance to their room lies. He turns around with a quick movement, ignoring the protest his back gives at the quick movement. He’s lived through worse pain.

The voice, it turns out, came from Chatot – who else, really. And behind Chatot, flying into their room, follows, at a more sedate pace, Dusknoir.

“…Yes, that is me,” Darkrai says, after Chatot does not continue whatever he was getting at.

“That’s not what I was about to ask you!”

Well, then he should ask instead of suddenly falling silent! Darkrai just wishes he could actually say that to the bird’s face.

“How are you feeling?” Dusknoir asks, his fake persona once again in play. Darkrai really quite liked it more when it was not, although he does understand Dusknoir’s need for it. How exhilarating it will be once Darkrai uses the knowledge that this is just an act against Dusknoir!

“… Good enough,” he finally answers. “Although I am wondering as to how I got here.”

Dusknoir starts to answer, “We found you on the beach, passed out—" only to get interrupted by Chatot.

“Where you should not have been! What, exactly, where you thinking, staying outside the guild during night?!”

Darkrai huffs and crosses his arms. “It was only a night.”

“Only a night?!” Chatot screeches, which tells Darkrai that this was, most likely, the wrong thing to say. As usual. Then again, with the way Chatot is behaving right now everything would probably be the wrong answer. “That is one night too many! Do you know what could have happened?!”

Darkrai acts as if he is thinking, and then, says, “Well, I guess something like being attacked by a strange Pokémon for no reason.”

This makes Chatot and Dusknoir exchange a glance, while he can hear Pearl behind him mutter “Don’t be so nonchalant, you idiot.” He ignores her. For now.

Dusknoir is the one who speaks up first. “What did the strange Pokémon look like?”

Darkrai acts as if he is thinking. “Hm. I only got a glance before I was attacked, but I’d say around Dusknoir’s size, pretty dark in colour. And I think I saw white hair.”

“Yes, that’s it!” Chatot crows, and then, after clearing his throat, turns towards both Darkrai and Pearl. “It tried to steal into the guild tonight – when most of us were out, how dastardly! – but Dusknoir stopped it. When he tried to confront it, it attacked him, and a chase ensued!”

Excuse him, what?! That is-, that is defamation! Trying to steal into the guild? Attacking Dusknoir first?! None of this is true! He would splutter if he could allow himself to do so. Instead, he forces his face to remain unmoving. But—

The gall! To attack him and then act like Darkrai attacked first! As if he had any evil intentions towards the guild!

(Which he might, admittedly, have had. Which does not matter, right now.)

“Unfortunately, we lost its trail,” Dusknoir admits, and finally some truth, “And once we followed it to where we thought it could be, we found you, passed out. Do you remember how it knocked you out?”

Ah, of course. They have to make sure that it was the same way as Chatot, without outright saying so. After all, there must be a lack of wounds showing on his illusioned body, which only leaves the possibility of having been put to sleep. But it seems they do not quite believe him, yet. Or maybe, they just do not want to compromise his narrative.

… No. No, they just do not believe him.

It must have been the darned bag. Why did he not remember sooner? As it looks right now, the timeline must seem quite strange – for the ‘unknown Pokémon’ to carry ‘Darcy’s’ bag when it attacked, it must have knocked him out first, and then gone to the guild, and that really makes no sense at all!

Ugh, why did he not just—

No, wait, it was not his fault! This was entirely Dusknoir’s fault for waking up and then attacking him! If he had just remained asleep, like any ordinary Pokémon, none of this would have had to happen!

“I am… Not sure. One moment, I was looking at the Pokémon and then…” Ugh, if only he knew what Dark Void felt like! It had been described to him, before, so he will have to rely on that and hope that it is correct. “It felt as if I was dragged into darkness, and then I… Well.”

He looks to the floor, as if not quite willing to admit this, but then takes a deep breath. “Let us just say I woke up after an unrestful night.”

“Nightmares?” Pearl helpfully asks, and with a sigh, Darkrai nods.

“Yes. Worse… than under normal circumstances.”

Chatot sighs. “Ah yes. It is just as we expected, then.” And then, in one of his sudden changes in behaviour, he flutters his wings. “Now, you absolute dunderhead, what were you thinking, staying outside the guild, alone?! And what were you doing on the beach, before the sun had even risen?!”

Darkrai scoffs in answer and looks at the bird again. “I wanted to return to the guild, of course. Besides, I spent most of the night in the Beach Cave, anyways, it is not as if I would just spend the night outside or—”

This time, Chatot screeches. “You spent the night WHERE?!”

Darkrai grimaces. His poor ears.

“The Beach Cave. It is not as if I ran into any strong enemies, do not worry—”

And once again, he gets interrupted by an increasingly agitated Chatot.

“You not only went into a Dungeon alone, but you also spent a NIGHT THERE?!”

Darkrai would not have thought that Chatot could get even louder, but alas, here they are. And unfortunately, Darkrai really does not see the problem.

“Yes, as I said. Is there something like a social stigma around that? Because if there is, I might not know about it.”

“Social stigma? Social STIGMA?!” Chatot once again gets louder with every word, which is when Dusknoir takes over. At least he seems calm.

“There is not so much a stigma as that it is just incredibly dangerous,” the ghost clarifies. “Although it heavily depends on the Dungeon, of course. Most Dungeons will corrode the mind of those who are forced to stay there too long. It is different for explorers, of course, and there seem to be different rules for the ends of Dungeons.”

“Well,” Darkrai feels the need to defend himself, “I have slept and stayed in a few Dungeons – at the end as well as on random floors – in the past and I have never had that problem.”

“You WHAT?!” Chatot seems to almost be having an aneurysm.

“But… but what about the Unseen Force?” a voice pipes up from beside Darkrai. He turns to look at Pearl, who must have wandered over to his side during Chatot’s outbursts.

“What Unseen Force?” Darkrai asks, truly hating that, apparently, she knows something that he does not.

“The… Unseen Force. You know, the one that throws explorers out if they stay too long in a Dungeon?”

Darkrai stares at her uncomprehendingly.

“I mean, we’ve never stayed long enough to run into it, but like, it’s something every explorer knows about…?”

“Pearl, what in the Distortion World’s name are you talking about?” And for once, he truly does not know. An Unseen Force? Throwing Pokémon out of Dungeons, somehow? What kind of bul—

Well. What kind of strange, uh, business is that supposed to be?

“I briefed you on it when you joined!” Chatot shouts, and Darkrai turns to look at him.

“Well, apparently, I didn’t hear that part, so what is it that has you so worked up?”

“You… truly do not know?” Dusknoir asks, and for once, even he seems baffled.

Darkrai rolls his eye. “Yes, as we have now clarified! So, anyone, care to explain?”

“It is… well, an Unseen Force,” Dusknoir explains, and he still seems so baffled, Darkrai is getting annoyed. “If explorers – and it seems to only affect explorers – stay too long in a Dungeon, it will sweep them out. Which is why none can stay in Dungeons for too long.”

Darkrai stares at him. Then at Chatot. And then at Pearl.

And he realizes.

“Haha,” he says out loud, not even making a pretence of actually laughing. “Very funny, I get it. You are trying to fool me.”

“We aren’t!”

“I assure you, we are not.”

“Why would we?!”

Once again, he looks between the three. All seem serious.

He scoffs. “Of course. And I am just supposed to believe that there is some… force which will simply throw Pokémon out? If that is so, why would I never be thrown out? As I said, I have spent many nights in Dungeons.”

“That… I would also like to know,” Dusknoir admits.

Chatot has finally gathered his bearing again – at least enough to shout at Darkrai again. “How can you not have run into it?! The only Pokémon who are truly spared from it are…” And he trails off.

“Are?” Darkrai prompts.

Chatot shares a glance with Dusknoir and Pearl.

It is Pearl who breaks the suspense, with a loud gasp. “Darcy, were you once a feral Pokémon?!”

… What.

He repeats that word out loud. “What.”

“That’s the only ones who don’t get thrown out! Well, besides Pokémon who get lost, but as Dusknoir said before, those are the ones who start losing their minds, and then they basically become feral as well!”

“I can assure you,” he starts, then interrupts himself to send scathing looks to all three of them, “That I have never been a feral Pokémon.”

“Maybe your parents, then?” Dusknoir asks, and Darkrai feels the need to scratch the ghost’s eye out. How dare he make him think of his ‘parent’?

“I can assure you that they are not,” he hisses. “And neither are any grandparents or others. I can trace my lineage for long enough to know that none ever were.” If one can even call ‘I am the only one of my kind and the one who created me literally brought about the existence of our world’ a lineage.

“Then… I really don’t know why you might be able to stay in Dungeons seemingly without repercussions,” Dusknoir admits.

Pearl sighs right next to him. “Darcy, did anyone ever tell you that you can sometimes be really weird?”

Darkrai huffs. “It is not my fault that, apparently, Dungeons just like me better. Although my—,” he interrupts himself before he can say ‘sister’ and instead meanders, “Well, I know some other Pokémon who are most definitely not feral, and they have also never encountered this supposed ‘Unseen Force’ you talk of.”

All three stare at him. It is Dusknoir who finally speaks up. “Perhaps… Perhaps there is more to the Unseen Force than is known as of now.”

Chatot, unfortunately, cannot accept this, and so, as usual, he turns to anger.

“In any way, ignoring this conversation, you are not to ever spend a night not only alone, but also outside the guild, unless sent out for a longer exploration! Do you understand?!”

“Sure,” Darkrai says, keeping from rolling his eye. He already did it once, today, that should be enough.

“It does not matter what reason you might have for separating from your exploration partner, understood? At night, you will be here, at the guild, and so will Piplup!”

Darkrai really has to try to not snark back. Chatot is supremely annoying today. “Yes, yes, I already said I got it.”

“And don’t spend your night in a Dungeon!”

Darkrai sighs audibly, and then agrees, half-heartedly. “Alright, alright.”

“Good!” Chatot shouts, and then, something in his mien changes. “Now that this has been made clear, as your punishment—”

“What punishment? Why would I need a punishment?”

This makes Chatot explode in anger, once again. “Why?! First, you separated from your partner – and I don’t care for the reason, you are never to do so outside of Treasure Town! Secondly, you ran off without telling anyone where you would go, then, you missed dinner, did not come back before nightfall, and then got yourself ambushed by an extremely violent and dangerous Pokémon!”

… Excuse him? That is him you are talking about. And sure, he can be violent and dangerous! But yesterday, he was just trying to get away from Dusknoir!

“It-, it was my fault too!” Pearl cries, for some reason, “If we had not argued—”

“We have been over this, Piplup!” Chatot shouts, “You are not at fault for your partner’s stupid behaviour!”

Darkrai is left to wonder what, exactly, happened yesterday when he was not there.

“So, if it is now clear to you as to why you need a punishment,” Chatot hisses, once again turning towards Darkrai, “You will be grounded for today and tomorrow, is that understood?”

And for a second, Darkrai almost accepts that without further anger, but…

Well, there is still a criminal on the large, and so are two stupid siblings of Uxie. One and a half stupid siblings of Uxie. Only Mesprit is a full-blown idiot.

“Unfortunately, I cannot accept this punishment,” he therefore responds. He can hear Pearl gasp and then try to tuck on his arm, supposedly to get his attention. It feels disgusting.

“You… cannot—” Chatot is close to bursting, again, and to spare his poor ears, Darkrai interrupts him before he can.

“Yes. I apologize, but yesterday when I talked with Uxie…” And this one name makes Chatot’s eyes go wide immediately, “Well, I cannot go into the specifics, but there is a place he has requested me to visit. And I put that task on hold yesterday, since, of course, our search for the Time Gears is of the utmost importance, but I fear that I will have to do as he asked today.”

For a few moments, it is quiet, and then, Chatot visibly accepts his defeat. He breathes out, and his previously puffed up feathers return to lying almost flat on his body. Perhaps all the previous shouting tired him. Or perhaps, he just had some very nasty nightmares tonight.

And the next moment, he perks up again, because he cannot just accept it, actually. “Well, but only this once, and only because it was Uxie who wanted you to do so! Where will you be going?”

“That, I can unfortunately not tell,” Darkrai says, “But travel there and back will take three to four days, I believe.”

“Three to four days?! That is much too long!” Chatot cries, just as Darkrai had feared.

Thus, he tries to calm the bird. “There are no Dungeons which need to be travelled through, to get where Uxie needs me to be.” A lie, of course – Mesprit would not guard the Time Gear without at least one Dungeon between it and the rest of the world. Still, with how Chatot already is…

“If I do not know where you will go, then it is too long! Besides, you, on your own—”

“Pearl will accompany me, of course. Uxie knows that we will travel together.” Darkrai can almost feel Pearl’s eyes widen at his side. He had not planned on taking her along, but if it will get Chatot off his back…

“But still, you are our most junior explorers! I cannot, in good conscience let you two leave for so long, without knowing where you will go!”

“Perhaps I might accompany them part of the way?” Dusknoir asks, and Darkrai can immediately feel his facial muscles freeze. Oh no, he won’t.

“Uxie was very clear that this travel needs to be kept as secret as possible. By telling the two of you, I am already compromising it to a certain degree.”

“What could Uxie possibly want from a junior explorer that we could not help him with?!” Chatot huffs, and that, finally, makes Darkrai lose his cool.

“Uxie and I have known each other for quite some time already, Chatot,” he hisses, trying and failing to keep his voice from showing too much of his annoyance. “I could not be more forthcoming with this knowledge before, but I am quite sure that I have known him for far longer than Pearl has even been alive, and quite possibly, you as well. I am aware,” he drawls, “That when it comes to actually exploring Dungeons, I have some… gaps in my knowledge and experience, but please do not mistake that with weakness or general inexperience. If Uxie, the Legendary of Knowledge, is sure that I am the best suited for what needs to be done, I am sure that he is right.”

And this, finally, seems to bring about the change – because although Chatot flutters his wings one, two, three times, he does not say anything, and then, finally, he sighs.

“Alright. If Uxie believes that you are strong enough for this task, I will have to believe so as well. But you will travel as safely as possible, understood?”

“Of course,” Darkrai answers with a nod. “Besides, I have Pearl with me. She will keep me out of trouble.”

And with this comment, he can almost feel Pearl’s trust slowly returning.

 

“You know,” Pearl speaks up, approximately two hours into their journey, “I never realized that all the good items are gone at evening.”

Darkrai nods. “Which is why I always insist on starting the day early. I hope you now understand the need for that.”

Pearl rolls her eyes. “Eight would still be early enough.”

“And then we would return from our assignments much later, and would not have the evening to spend as we see fit.”

That makes Pearl sigh and slump her shoulders. “Yeah, true.”

“Besides,” Darkrai adds, “I follow the time of the sunrise, which means that now with the days becoming shorter, you will be able to sleep longer, anyways.”

Pearl lets out a half-hearted shout of joy at that. Then, her posture changes, and she asks in that tone of voice that means ‘You don’t know the answer to this question, I just want you to prompt me to continue’, “Hey, do you know what’s a real shame?”

Darkrai looks at her, silently prompting her to answer. He is not about to guess.

“That our bag got stolen by that Pokémon. I mean, sure, trying to get into the guild, attacking everyone for no good reason, like, all of that is pretty shi—”

“Language.”

“Well, it is! It sucks! Is that word okay, Mr. I-have-never-in-my-life-even-thought-a-swear word?”

“There are much more elegant words, but I will let it pass, for today.”

“Great. Well, anyways, all of that sucks, but I just feel bummed out that it just stole our bag. I liked that bag!”

Darkrai sighs. That bag will now be lost to them forever, as will be whatever was in it – what with everyone knowing that it got ‘stolen’, he cannot just get what was in it, safely. “On this, I agree with you, it is quite a let-down that it is now gone. This new one just does not have the same way to keep it orderly.”

“AND we lost that one TM we still we wanted to sell!”

Darkrai sighs. “Yes, unfortunately.”

Pearl sighs, as well. “At least the Kecleon brothers gave us a discount so we could more easily restock it.” And then, she visibly perks up. “Hey, question – I get why you wouldn’t tell Chatot where we are going, but now that it’s just the two of us, you can tell me, right?”

Darkrai nods in affirmation. They are far enough from Treasure Town now that he can assuredly say that no one – not Dusknoir, not Chatot, not anyone else – followed them. Besides, it would be hard to hide amongst these hills covered only in low-growing vegetation. They crossed the River of Serenity around an hour ago, and although Darkrai knows that the hills will soon grow in size, and that they will find the Waterfall-Mountains surrounding the Hot Springs soon, for now, it is perfect to overlook everything.

“Of course. We are currently travelling towards the Northern Desert.”

“And why are we travelling there?” Pearl presses on, and after a last careful gaze around, which shows no Pokémon but the two of them, Darkrai finally turns to answer properly.

“Uxie has two siblings, called Mesprit and Azelf. Just like Uxie, they guard Time Gears.”

“What?!” Pearl gasps, but Darkrai shushes her with an icy gaze. If she wants something explained, she needs to be quiet.

“Now, all of them are psychic-types and Legendaries, and as such, they can converse telepathically. Unfortunately, both his siblings are utter idiots and have decided not to heed Uxie’s warnings, and so he has sent me to warn them once again. We hope that, if they are told the same by what they think is a neutral party – they do not know me as Uxie does – they might be more careful.”

“But-But Darcy! How could you not tell Chatot or the Guildmaster that you actually know where some Time Gears are?”

And immediately, Darkrai can feel his annoyance rising.

“What reason do they have to know?” he hisses, and the next moment, he remembers himself. “Pearl, I understand that the situation seems dire, and that Chatot and Wigglytuff only want to protect the Time Gears, but the more Pokémon know of the location, the more dangerous it becomes to guard them. Uxie agrees with me on that front, and therefore asked me not to tell anyone.”

Pearl stares at then nods. “Yeah, I get that. I still think we could have told someone… Maybe Dusknoir! He’s trustworthy.”

Darkrai almost laughs out loud. How can she be so naïve? Oh, of course, this naivety was a stroke of luck for him, but to trust not just Darkrai but also Dusknoir?

“Do be careful who you call that word, Pearl,” he finally ends up saying. Should he try to make her wary of Dusknoir? Perhaps not, now that they have become something like… acquaintances. But then again, he just really hates Dusknoir, and if he can make Pearl dislike him, he will try his best to do so.

“What do you mean?” she asks, staring at him with confusion clear in her eyes.

He hums, as if thinking his words over. Finally, he speaks up. “Not all Pokémon’s intentions align with what they make you believe they are. And do not look at me like this, I am not saying that Dusknoir is necessarily among them… Just that you should be a little more critical with who you grant your trust.”

“But Dusknoir has only ever been nice!” she counters, true offence obvious in her voice.

Perhaps he went… a little too far, after the strain yesterday’s argument (and was it truly only just yesterday? Time seems to stretch and slow simultaneously). As such, he sighs theatrically. “I know. That is why I said that Dusknoir probably isn’t like that.”

After a short pause, he adds, “But it is trust like that which might sometimes backfire. It is why Uxie was so uneasy letting the guild leave with their memories intact – you trust one person, and most of the time, it turns out well, but when it does not… It ends catastrophically.”

“Wait, he was uneasy about that?” And then, her eyes narrow, as if she is drawing conclusions. “Is that what you two talked about?”

Ugh, why does she continue to have these moments of immense genius whenever Darkrai does not want her to have them?

“Besides other, more private things. He asked me to keep an eye on the guild’s members, to make sure that they honoured their promise.”

“And so that’s why you got so angry yesterday? You thought you had failed in keeping one of them from breaking their promise, making you break your promise to Uxie in turn?”

Darkrai huffs. “Would you kindly stop psycho-analysing my motives?”

And then, the strangest thing happens: Pearl laughs. He stares at her, but she just grins back mischievously.

And then, her grin becomes a smile, which seems almost… wistful.

“It’s… It’s good to know,” she starts, “That your promises mean that much to you.”

And Darkrai is left to wonder how, exactly, she came to that conclusion, or why it makes her so obviously happy.

Notes:

When you forshadow extremely small things which won’t become important for at least 20+ chapters and will most likely no longer be remembered by then: aM vERr GoOoOdd aUtthOuR

So, first of all, thank you all so much for your feedback to my question last chapter! It really helped me a lot :D
Secondly, I do not know when the next chapter will be posted - but I will try my best to MAYBE get it out by the next Ides. I cannot promise anything, but yeah. I will certainly try.

So, fun fact: In the original draft for this chapter, Darkrai actually got away with NOT apologizing to Pearl. But with the way he was behaving the last chapters (especially the last one), I decided that this can no longer be accepted, and so, we now have this very awkward apology-scene. But hey, it's something! We are only, what, 85.000+ words in and he is STARTING to behave, like, 5% less of an absolute asshat. Yay.

Third, the part of the Unseen Force... Please do not take that too seriously! It was mostly added since the last chapters, in my opinion, were quite more serious than they usually are, and hey, this fic is still tagged as 'humour', so I wanted to add something which is precisely that. Will it become important later? Probably not. Did I still spend literal hours thinking of a way to add this scene, reference it in a later chapter, and give it a logical reason, once it comes up again?
... Perhaps.
(Overthinking is what I love to do, apparently)

Finally, everyone, I know that I say it almost every chapter, but thank you all SO MUCH for all the love you have been giving and continue to give this fic. I am still not quite where I can say that I might deserve it, but I certainly appreciate it SO MUCH. If I could hug each and everyone of you (and I generally dislike hugging a great deal), I would do so immediately. You are all ABSOLUTELY AMAZING, and without you, this fic would not be what it is shaping up to be.
So, yeah, thank you all, from the depths of my heart.

Edit Hiatus Update Chapter 11 (06.11.2022):
very few changes this chapter – really just flow-edits. Quite happy with this chapter - and I can admit, it’s definitely one of my very favourites still.
Also, fun fact, but Darkrai and Dusknoir ‘teaming up’ did not happen at all in my first versions of the story. No, in the initial ‘final’ version of it, Darkrai just continued hating Dusknoir, Dusknoir continued being pretty much his canon-self, and that was it. So, rewriting all of that is one of the main reasons as to why the update speed slowed down so incredibly much after this chapter – I just added in a new, incredibly important, plotline haha.

Edit Hiatus Update: (08.11.2022)
Only very few changes here. And wow, what a short chapter. I can’t say that I am entirely happy with how it turned out, but if I started editing it to fit whatever I would actually want, it would become unrecognizable. And since I am choosing my battles wisely, I am choosing to tactically retreat in a swift fashion instead.
But yeah. At least it got its job done of hurrying us along, towards the actually cool part?

Chapter 13: In the grand scheme of things useful, it’s a sand dream of strings to pull

Summary:

Last Chapter: After waking from the result of one of his plans, Darkrai and Pearl somewhat reconciled after their previous argument. After that, Darkrai told Chatot of his need to search out Mesprit, who only let him and Pearl do so. The two then started to make their way to Mesprit.

TW: mention of vomiting (no actual vomiting, just the feeling like one is about to do). If you want to avoid that part, stop reading at ““Oh, I-I’m sorry,” she stammers” and continue reading at the next paragraph.

Notes:

Darkrai, noticing a chance to double-cross the guy he hates: Don’t mind if I do!

(Alternative Chapter Title: Local Liar's bad decisions come to haunt him, see how he panics!! Not Clickbait!)

Pearl and Darkrai pause in their travels at the edge of the Mystifying Forest once night starts to encroach. The next day, they plan to move on, make their way around the forest and reach the edges of the Northern Desert. And perhaps, if they are not too tired, then, and if it is not too late, they will even walk further.

If only they could have started their travels at dawn, and not late evening, they would already be at the desert, Darkrai is sure. But alas, he slept for too long.

“Darcy? Can I ask you something?” Pearl asks, sitting comfortably on one of the blankets they took with them.

While generally, Darkrai only packs the most necessary things for their travel – so as to not have to carry quite so much – this time, he opted to also take two blankets along. Sure, he can sleep on the ground just fine. Does that mean that he wants to do it? Most certainly not. So the additional weight was worth the price.

Pearl, meanwhile, is waggling her feet back and forth, and Darkrai would bet… well, he does not bet; but he is almost completely sure that this must have been a habit of hers when she was still a human. Normal Piplup just do not move their feet like this.

After he finally nods in reaction to her question, Pearl continues. “So, Teddiursa told me that there’s something called a, uh, a Luminary Spring in this forest?” She waves her hand in the direction of the treeline to her right, indicating no true direction.

“Luminous Spring,” Darkrai corrects, and then falls quiet to let her add whatever she was trying to.

“Yeah, that. And she also said that you can… evolve there?”

Darkrai nods, waiting for her to continue.

“Do you think I could evolve? What with me having been a… well, a human? Because I’ve heard that Pokémon get stronger if they evolve and I’ve just been wondering…”

That, actually, makes Darkrai stop in his attempts to make some edible food which is not just a cut-up apple.

(It’s cut-up fruit. Including apple).

“I am… not sure,” he admits, staring at the assortment of fruit beneath his hands. It holds no answers, of course. “There is the chance that you might continue to be confined to the form of a Piplup you currently have, but you could just as well be like any other Pokémon, now.” And then, he decides to try a question which could be… dangerous. But he needs to assure himself that she does not… remember.

“You still do not know why you turned into a Pokémon, correct? Or did some memories resurface?” He stares at her.

Pearl’s eyes widen. “No! Well, not really. I… If any memories really returned, I’d… I’d definitely tell you, okay? Sometimes, it just feels like I’m… well, remembering that, at one point I remembered something? If that makes any sense?” She’s trying to gesture with her hands, which is somewhat hindered by the fact that she only possesses tiny wings, now.

“I think I do understand what you mean. It is not a memory, but the impression that, at one point, you had a memory which would have come up at the time you had that feeling, correct?”

“Yes! Exactly like that! And sometimes I almost remember places, I guess? Like, as if I was there. But I don’t really remember. And-, well, I… Well, no ‘and’. There’s no ‘and’. It’s just, memories but not memories, I guess.”

Darkrai hums. “That is certainly interesting.”

“But I know that I was a human before. Even if I don’t remember.”

That makes Darkrai raise his eyebrow. “I did not doubt that.”

She chuckles. The nervousness in her voice is apparent. “I wasn’t trying to make it seem like I don’t believe you that you believe me. Wow that sounded dumb. But yeah. It’s just. My name, and that I was a human, I know these things for certain.”

Darkrai nods. “And I believe you, as I said.” And then, curiosity strikes, and he cannot hold himself back from asking, “Do you want to be a human again?”

Pearl stares. First at him, then at the food he is currently not preparing, and finally at the trees. “I’m… I guess… I guess I don’t know.” She sighs. “It’s complicated. I like… I like living in Treasure Town, and helping Pokémon, and just… everything, but I sometimes wonder if… if…” She sighs, once again. “At the moment, I think it’s easier if I don’t try to find a way to change back.”

“Which does not answer whether you want to or not.”

“Well, I just… I just don’t know, okay?” At the end, frustration slips into her voice, making Darkrai backtrack hurriedly.

“I did not mean to pry or make you uncomfortable. Let us go back to the topic we started with – Luminous Spring and Evolution.” He starts cutting fruit again, to keep his hands busy. “There is truly no way for us to know whether you can evolve or not. Even if you could, the Spring does not work at the moment, as far as I have heard.”

“It doesn’t?”

He shakes his head. “These Springs… are strewn all around the world, and they are quite finicky. Even the tiniest things seem to be able to stop them from doing their job properly.”

“Huh,” Pearl answers, “And I guess Grovyle stealing Time Gears most definitely counts.”

Darkrai nods. “It does. Although there are also ways for Pokémon to evolve without the help of these springs – and no, do not look at me like that, I do not even need to see you to know that you are.” He looks up, then, and ‘lo and behold, she is throwing him a look. “I am not aware of the details, just that they exist.”

After all, both Grovyle and Dusknoir must have found a way to evolve in the future, and Darkrai is certain that Evolution Springs did not work there, anymore. “Perhaps, we might ask Uxie once we return.”

And now, he himself is interested. Which other ways are there for common Pokémon to evolve? Before, he never really bothered to figure this out, but it would be advisable for him to know. After all, he cannot have Pearl evolving before she stopped his past self… current self? past-current self? – well, the him that he was and who must still exist, but who he is no longer and—

Wait, where was he? The knife beneath his hands stopped moving as his thoughts became more confusing, and he dares not make it cut again, for fear of accidentally hurting himself.

In any way, he knew that Pearl was a Piplup when he faced her in his past, which, currently, has not happened yet; and if she evolved, that would change time and he cannot have that.

“Yeah…” Pearl’s answer jerks him out of his confusing thoughts.

“Have you ever tried to evolve?” she then asks, and really, what is it with the sudden interest in him apparently not evolving? First Dusknoir, now Pearl!

“I have no interest in it,” he retorts, and something in his tone must have told Pearl not to pursue this topic.

And so, silence falls between them. It is.. quite uncomfortable. Darkrai does like silence, of course, and he especially likes it if others do not annoy him with useless chatter, but… With their argument having happened just yesterday, there is just a certain feeling within his chest, which urges him to handle all their interactions right now as if they were easily breakable artifacts.

It is strange. He can remember having felt like this, sure, but that was so very far in the past that he almost forgot about it. Maybe he stopped caring about it, but why would he suddenly start, again?

Did something in his answer annoy her? Was it the wrong tone of voice he used? Now that they have repaired their relationship, somewhat, he really does not want it to break again.

“So… Uxie and you, you have been friends for a long time?”

Of course. He should have figured that the Uxie-topic was still bothering her. Their argument was but a day ago.

“Not friends,” he corrects, deciding that some truth might be the best way to fix whatever broke between them. “Acquaintances at best, I would say. But unfortunately, in the current situation… working with each other has become necessary.”

And then, he sighs, as if some thoughts burden him. “I am… I could have told you all of that before, that is what you are thinking right now, is it not?” And he looks at Pearls wide eyes; how her feet have stopped moving, how she is about to say something but doesn’t quite dare.

He continues, as if the words leaving his mouth are hard for him to say, as if he is not just lying through his teeth, as he always does.

(Because he does not mean whatever he tells her.)

“Sometimes, it seems easier to not… allow yourself to trust someone else. And I am… trying to trust you, you have to believe me on that.” He stares her directly in the eyes. “But it is hard.”

And as Pearl’s gaze softens, Darkrai knows that, once again, his words had the intended effect.

“Alright,” she finally says, a small smile on her face which Darkrai would guess is meant to be assuring. “I… Thank you for telling me. You’ve had bad experiences with trust in the past, right?”

Darkrai averts his gaze, and after staying silent for some time, starts cutting the fruit under his hands again. “I am getting tired, Pearl.”

Fortunately, she understands and nods. And most likely, without her noticing it, she starts moving her feet once again, back and forth, back and forth. She is also partial to doing that at night, when falling asleep, probably without even noticing.

“Yeah, I am tired, too! We’ll just have dinner and after that, sleep. I can take the first watch, of course!” And she smiles.

And for some reason, Darkrai makes an effort to return the smile, even if not quite so blinding.

 

They reach the edge of the Northern Desert around midday, having had the luck of good weather and no encounters with other Pokémon.

“So… where does this, uh… Spirit—”

“Mesprit.”

“Live, exactly?” Pearl finishes her question, looking at the desert’s sandy hills before them. “Because I would guess that this is the Northern Desert, but… Mesprit wouldn’t just live in the middle, right?”

At its outskirts, the desert is still interspersed with many rocks and boulders, their heights varying between being no bigger than pebbles, to towering heights, being most likely even bigger than Groudon in its Primal Form.

… Darkrai is not quite sure why he thought of that particular comparison.

Away from them, into the centre of the desert, the heat – which can be felt even in the outskirts where they currently are – is visible, shimmering above the hot sands. This is probably why Pearl seems so apprehensive about the idea of Mesprit perhaps being there, and truly, Darkrai can agree. Even if he can float, heated ground is a hassle to deal with.

To the west from where Pearl and he stand, cliffs tower at the edge of the desert. Luckily enough, this is where they will head to.

“There is a place at the edge of the desert, called the Quicksand Pits. Once we arrive there… Well. You will see.”

“What do you mean, I will see? Just tell me!”

Darkrai laughs. “Believe me, it is much funnier if I do not.”

“For me or for you?” Pearl grumbles, then continues in a much more neutral tone, “But… we won’t go straight through the desert, right?” Staring at the midday sun, she adds, “Especially not now.”

Shaking his head, he answers, “No, we will not. There is a Mystery Dungeon maybe half an hour away from here – you see where the cliffs are?” And with a movement of his head, he indicates the direction. Pearl immediately looks over there. “That is where it is. It grants much faster passage to the Quicksand Pits.”

“Oh.” And then, her eyes narrow. “Wait, didn’t you tell Chatot that we’d not go through any dungeons?”

Darkrai does not shrink under her gaze like a child caught in a lie. “That… might not have been completely true.”

“Darcy!”

“Did you want to be forced to stay in the guild, against Uxie’s explicit wishes?”

“Well, no, but you can’t just—”

“I have been in this Dungeon before. It is not particularly dangerous, especially not for you, with your Water Type attacks. And any Pokémon that would give you trouble, I will take care of. So truly, there is no reason to be worried.”

“But Chatot…”

“Oh come now, Pearl, do you not also think that Chatot is babying the two of us?” Her guilty glance tells him that this is exactly it, but that she is too much of a hero to admit it out loud.

Thus, Darkrai continues. “He was barely willing to let us go to seek out Mesprit, just because we would need to be away from the guild for a few days. You do not truly believe that he would have let us traverse one measly Dungeon, do you?”

“Don’t say it like that!” she throws back, “Sure, he wouldn’t have, but that still doesn’t mean that you can just lie all the time!”

“It was a necessary lie! Uxie asked me to come here, what should I have done, told him ‘Bad Luck, I am not allowed to travel that far on my own’?” He can see that Pearl is, although trying to disagree, feeling more and more like what he says makes sense, and as such, he decides to use his strongest argument.

“Uxie’s siblings are in immediate danger, and you would want me to remain at the guild because Chatot has not realized that we are a much stronger team than he thinks we should be? Mesprit and Azelf could die.”

And as expected, appealing to her heroic side finally shows the intended effect. She averts her eyes, stopping in her tries to skewer him with an angry stare. Instead, she now looks towards the cliffs again. And then, finally, she lets out a long, heavy sigh.

In a ‘I agree with you but I still need to make sure that you understand that what you did was wrong’ voice – a voice he knows intimately from Cresselia - she says, “Chatot is only looking out for us, you know? It’s not like he is trying to be mean.”

“I did not claim that he is,” Darkrai clarifies, trying to keep his voice even. Why do others always think the worst of what he says? And also him, for that matter.

Sure, he might have implied that Chatot is quite useless, multiple times, but he did not openly say so. And thus, he adds, “He just tends to be… short-sighted in certain matters. Including this one.”

“Yeah, I get it, but… You could’ve at least told me, once we left the guild.”

And in a sudden bout of clarity, Darkrai understands that this entire argument was never about Chatot. No, Pearl very obviously fears that he is still lying to her, that he does not trust her.

The worst thing is, that, of course he is lying to her! Of course he does not trust her! But how can he make her believe that the opposite is true, now that discontent has been sown?

By admitting guilt. Which he does not want to do.

Great. Just great.

“I could have,” he finally admits. “But…” And he searches for a reason, any reason at all which would be a good reason for not telling her. And he finds not one.

Why can he not lie, as he usually does? It should be easy!

“But?” Pearl prompts, but it is no use, he still does not know an answer. No matter what he would come up in such a short amount of time, it would not be satisfying!

He stares at the desert, but it has no answer to give, either. “I do not know. I could have told you, yet I did not. Let us just… move on.” And then, he continues to speak, giving neither her nor himself the time to question his answer. “We will head to the cliffs. I would advise that we make our way through the Dungeon there, today. There will be a second Dungeon coming up after that, and, depending on how we feel, we might explore it, as well, or settle down for the night.” He turns towards Pearl. “Is that acceptable?”

Something in her gaze seems almost… broken, at his last words, but who cares? It is not Darkrai’s task to ensure that she will be emotionally undamaged once she faces his true self.

“… Sure. Sure, let’s do that.”

And so, they walk.

 

In the Dungeon, Pearl does… surprisingly well. She did not suddenly grow stronger in just one or two days, did she? Oh, sure, against a few of the Pokémon they fight, she has a type advantage, but it seems almost as if her fighting style has… shifted. Darkrai can only wonder about it as he watches her take charge, seemingly intent on fighting all feral Pokémon they encounter.

Maybe she has become a little more aggressive? Darkrai is not quite sure. He only notices that there has been a shift. Perhaps she is still frustrated and taking that out on the feral Pokémon? That does sound likely, and really, Darkrai would rather it be them and not him.

Deciding to stop puzzling over it, he just follows behind her, occasionally looking through some of the walls to see if he cannot find the stairs quicker like that. Even if the temperatures here are more acceptable, it is still much too hot. Getting out sooner will be worth the hunger.

And sure, he has always been able to deal with high temperatures rather well, but the heat of surrounding magma is just… different to that of the desert. He definitely likes the first much more.

Unfortunately, the moment he stops thinking about the ever present heat, he remembers their… not-quite argument from before and…

Just why did he lie in the first place? What use was it to him? Why could he not lie when it mattered? It is maddening to not know the answer!

And so, he decides to ignore this topic, as well, and instead think about… the fact that he will soon meet Mesprit.

Oh no. He will soon meet Mesprit.

… Maybe not this topic, either.

 

Finally, they arrive in front of the Quicksand Pits. They have not changed much from when Darkrai was last here – which must have been centuries ago, now that he thinks about it. There is still sand, moving in something akin to spirals, being dragged deeper and deeper down under wave and wave of more sand. If the sand was alive, Darkrai would think it a sad existence.

Next to him, Pearl is staring at the pits intently. Which makes sense, it must be quite the fascinating sight.

Sometimes, Darkrai wonders how it is even possible – whirlpools in water, he understands, but sand? And then he remembers that thinking about such things always gives him a headache, and so he stops these thoughts quite quickly.

Pearl is still staring at the pits, unmoving and for a moment, Darkrai wonders about her. He quickly comes to the conclusion that she might just be hungry. She is young and growing, after all. He thinks. He never grew, but he thinks that others do it.

Or maybe it is just that he is really hungry. He skipped breakfast both today and yesterday, and actually did not eat all that much the last few days. And walking into walls might not have helped matters.

While Pearl continues with her staring, Darkrai starts rummaging through the bag. The new bag. Ugh, he wishes he could have his old one again, but…

Well.

So, he rummages through the new bag until he finally finds an apple, laid aside to be used as a snack and not dinner or something similar.

“I think…” Pearl suddenly speaks up, “I think I may have been here befo-, Are you eating our provisions?” She sounds affronted, as if him eating this old apple is a personal offense.

“… I am hungry.”

“Yesterday, you said that we need to be careful with how much we eat or we might run out of food!”

“We will not. Either I eat now and survive, or I die of starvation – and then you will have my corpse to feast on, so you will definitely not run out of food.”

“I-, what the-, I’m not going to eat you if you die, Darcy!”

“I know, which is why I am eating this apple, so that I do not perish in the first place.”

“Ugh! You’re impossible!” she cries, theatrically placing her paws on her face and groaning into them. Then, she peaks out again. “Besides, can you even eat ghosts?”

He cannot keep from grinning. “Oh? Are you contemplating it after all?”

Pearl vehemently shakes her head and groans loudly. “You’re impossible, do you hear me?! But…” She smiles, a tiny thing, and seems to calm almost immediately. “But to return to what I was trying to say before – I think I have been here before.”

“Truly?”

Slowly, Pearl nods. “I… think so, at least. I don’t know. It just seems familiar, but…” she sighs, heavily. “I don’t know. It was just a feeling I got, and for a second I could almost grasp a memory, but… it’s gone now.” And she seems quite saddened by that. Could her memories be…? No. Of course not. As she said, she only got something like an impression of a memory, nothing else. He does not have to worry.

“Another change of topic! You said that this Mesprit is by the Quicksand Pits, but its just… sand. I can’t see any Time Gears or something.”

Darkrai laughs, at that. “Are you sure?”

“Well, yes! Okay, there’s rocks, too, but… Nothing here looks like a Gear. Or Mesprit.”

“You have not ever seen her, how can you say that nothing does?”

For a few second, Pearl is quiet, and then, she turns towards him with wide eyes. “Wait, is she made of sand?!”

“… No. She is not,” he answers in a deadpan voice, after a definitely much too long pause. He knows that she has her moments of… questionable sanity, but still, whenever they come along, he feels caught off-guard.

“Well, then why are we standing here? Sure, these pits are cool to watch for a few minutes, but there’s nothing else to see!” Pearl says, a petulant pout appearing on her face.

“You are sure?”

“Yes! …No! Ugh, I don’t know, just tell me!”

Darkrai grins, intent on keeping her in the dark just a little longer. Seeing her frustrated like this is just… a little too much fun to be kept short. And, sure, he does not want another argument, but he also needs to repair their bond, and as such, behaving like a proper teacher again might just do the trick. It helped the first time, after all.

And so, he explains, “Did you know that quicksand actually works a lot like water? You will sink to a certain point, but you will not be fully submerged in it. Unless you are really, really stupid,” he mumbles to himself, and then, raising his voice, adds. ”Or if you panic, of course. And some more exceptions, but generally, you will not be submerged.”

“I… What does that have to do with anything? Are you telling me that I don’t have to be afraid of these pits or what?”

He raises his hand, then says. “No. Instead, watch.” And he throws the apple core he had been holding into one of the smaller pits. Together, they watch as it is drawn more and more towards the centre, and then, finally disappears beneath new waves of sand, almost as if pulled under.

“Now, imagine if this was water. What would have happened, then?”

“It… uh, I don’t know! Just tell me!” she demands, almost starting to pout. How undignified.

“You know the answer, Pearl. Don’t overcomplicate things, think simple.”

His calm words seemingly do the trick, as her brows (does she even have brows?) crease visibly while she thinks about it. “It… it would get wet? No, wait, it would float! And get wet.”

“Correct. Now, did this happen?” he asks as a follow-up question, and this time, the answer comes fast.

“No, it… didn’t…” He can see the gears turning in her head, but then, she gets lazy again and asks, “So, what does that mean?”

He sighs. So much for not relying on him constantly. But this time, he will not simply give the answer out. “Well, what could it mean?”

“These pits… uhm… are especially dangerous?”

At this, Darkrai rolls his eye. It’s not false, per se, just… not the answer he was looking for.

“Geeze, why can’t you just tell me what is going on? No, wait, don’t tell me, I just had an idea! I think… Like… when it’s like water, like, if this was water and the apple core disappeared… is there something under the sand?! Like, a plug in a barrel, where the water disappears to?!”

“Correct,” Darkrai says, not able to keep the satisfied smile from his face. Maybe he should have posed as a teacher, instead of an explorer. Too late now, unfortunately.

“But…” And she stares critically at the pits, “What am I supposed to do with that knowledge? So there’s something under the sand, so—” And with the widening of her eyes, he can clearly see the moment she realizes what, exactly, she is supposed to do with that knowledge.

“No,” she states, “No, definitely not.”

“Regrettably, we have to.”

“But… It’s sand!”

“Indeed, it is. I would advise you to close your eyes and mouth, as well as shield your ears as much as possible.”

“But… but…”

“Would I ever lead you down to certain death, Pearl? You can trust me.”

She looks at the pits, horrified, once again, and so, Darkrai feels the need to persuade her just a little further.

“Come now, was it not you who jumped through a waterfall with only the barest hope that there would not be a solid wall behind?”

And again, she stares. First at him, then at the Quicksand Pits. And before Darkrai can even say another word, she has run forwards and jumped in. And just like with the waterfall, he can only follow, exasperated.

 

Beneath the quicksand, another Mystery Dungeon hides – Darkrai knew that, of course. None of the Lake Guardians would just leave the way towards their Gears unsecured, and the Dungeon at the Northern Desert gives no true security.

Not even Mesprit would be so bull-headed to believe this.

And so, beneath the Quicksand Pits, a cave lies, where the sands from above trickle down, forming small hills as if it were a strange hourglass, and where currently, Darkrai and Pearl are trying to get back their bearing.

Pearl is making noises which prove that she got more than just a few grains of sand into her mouth, and Darkrai is about to cry because there is sand absolutely everywhere in his hair! His poor, poor hair. It has had to exist through so many hardships already, especially since he took on this illusion and could no longer openly care for it, but this might just have been the coup de grâce.

Making sure that Pearl is still busy spitting out sand, he starts moving his hands through his hair, to get at least a little bit out. And once he is at Mesprit’s lake, he will most definitely wash it, noisy Legendaries and Pearl be damned. His poor hair did not deserve this, at all!

After what feels like half an eternity, but could not have been much more than five minutes – if even that long – Pearl seems to have gotten out as much sand as she can, and therefore huffs in frustration.

“That was horrible!”

Darkrai hums in agreement, not feeling like opening his mouth. As long as they are still surrounded by so much falling sand, it would not be a particularly bright idea.

“And, ugh, there’s still sand in my mouth and this is just… Argh!” She ends up shouting the moment she notices that her feathers are still covered in sand, and without even looking if Darkrai follows, stamps towards one of the exits the cave has. Darkrai is not even sure if it is the correct one, but decides to just take the chance, as long as it gets him away from the sand.

Perhaps it is luck, perhaps Pearl has a better intuition than either of them realized, but just a few minutes later, they find themselves in the Dungeon. Unluckily, the sand is even here. The actual stone ground is covered by it, in the corners of the Dungeon, it piles up to sometimes almost scary heights, and some of the feral Pokémon in here just decide to raise miniature-sandstorms whenever they feel like it.

This is… really the worst!

As such, once Pearl and Darkrai finally leave the Dungeon behind, they are not just exhausted but above that, annoyed.

“There is sand just… everywhere!” Pearl huffs, and Darkrai really shares her angry sentiment.

Even on the shore surrounding the lake hidden within the deepest depths of the Quicksand Cave, there is sand, and Darkrai just… really, really hates it by now. Sure, it would be a nice, scenic view – the darkness is comforting, the glow of the Time Gear in the middle of the lake could be called atmospheric, the stalactites and stalagnates all over and around the cave do look quite nice…

But unfortunately, with all the sand, Darkrai is really not in the mood to appreciate it.

Pearl seems to think the same. “Ugh, I hate all this sand. I really do.”

Darkrai nods. His poor hair will forever hate him, now. “I do not care if Mesprit tries to stop me, I will definitely—” ‘bathe in the lake’, he wants to say, but before he has the chance to do so, he feels a blast of water impact with him, pushing him back a few steps. Next to him, he hears Pearl cry out in alarm.

The next second, the attacker jumps out into the open, straight out of the water.

Mesprit. Of course. She is always so brash!

“You will do what, huh?!” she cries, “Steal the Time Gear? I won’t let you!” And with that, she attacks Pearl, who cries out in shock, or pain, or whatever – having been too slow to evade whatever Mesprit attacked her with.

“We’re not here to steal it!” Pearl shouts, stumbling a little but seeming otherwise mostly fine, if a little worse for wear, and Darkrai is about to explain that Uxie sent them – screw keeping it secret, Mesprit is already attack them anyways – when another attack is hurled in his direction.

He moves out of its way just barely, but it obviously makes it hard to answer.

“Oh, sure!” Mesprit shouts, attacking Pearl once again – Darkrai uses her momentary distraction to weave around, maybe attack her in the back – “Because you just want to enjoy the view or what?!”

And the next moment, she turns around, as if she noticed Darkrai behind. Darn it.

Well, it is no use to her. Darkrai is, even with the illusion, the stronger of them. Not giving her a chance to attack him, he uses Dark Pulse. It shoves her away, almost into Pearl, who uses the sudden proximity to try to talk some sense into her once again.

“Please, we don’t want to fight! Uxie sent—”

“Uxie warned me! You must be accomplices of the thief!” And once again, she attacks Pearl, who, this time, is thrown unto the ground, where she struggles to stand up again.

Darkrai uses the lull in the fight to attack Mesprit once again, and this time, the Dark Pulse almost sends her off the beach, into the water. But she seems determined to defend the Time Gear (not that there is any need for that), and so, pulls herself together, only to attack Darkrai once again. This time, Darkrai cannot move out of the way of whatever beam she hurls in his direction, but as he feels the attack wash over him without inflicting any damage, he realizes that it must have been a Psychic Type attack.

Lucky him.

Mesprit’s eyes widen, but he does not give her the chance to ponder why her attack did not do any damage. He goes for Dark Pulse again, figuring that it might end this fight the fastest, but this time, Mesprit is prepared for it and moves away just in time.

“You…! How dare you!” she cries, and Darkrai is not sure what she means, but, well, she will not listen, so why should he?

He makes a last try to talk her to her senses – seriously doubting that it will be of use, but not truly willing to anger Uxie by just keeping on attacking. “We are no accomplices. We are not here to steal the Time Ge—”

And of course she uses this moment to attack him. Great. Great! Just splendid!

In this moment, Darkrai decides that this is it. She’s gone too far.

If she cannot behave herself, then he does not care if she gets a bloody nose for it! He strikes back immediately, this time simply using his claws. She dances out of the way, which is really just what he wanted – he does not intend to seriously injure her, just power her out to a degree where she will be forced to listen.

And so, their dance continues, with Mesprit desperately evading all of his swipes, and him forcing her to keep moving in more and more taxing ways. They must be moving about the place rapidly, but he does not care.

And then, her eyes widen. “You…!” she shouts, too tired to even force anything else out. She must just have realized that he was not truly trying to hit her. Too bad that she is already gasping for breath.

It is then that she abandons all tries to evade, and instead goes for a last, mad dash – this time, she tries to hit him, maybe with her paws, maybe just with her entire body, maybe she is even trying to bite him (something she is, unfortunately, not above doing).

But Darkrai is prepared, and just when she is almost too close, just when she is almost touching him, he uses another Dark Pulse. It hits her square in the chest, and this time, throws her to the ground violently. If it was not sand, the force would have surely given her at least a broken bone.

Too bad, really.

Then, she lies to his feet, gasping for air, and although she tries to stand up a few times, she manages only a bent-forward kneeling position. Darkrai would not like to be in her position. Even standing as he does now, he feels winded from the fight. It was not… difficult, Mesprit is most certainly not among the strongest Legendaries, but still, even if he always knew that he would win, a fight is still a fight and he is feeling winded. He’d like to end the day now, please.

“You… you… I won’t allow you… You won’t get… the Time Gear…!” she huffs out, and Darkrai remembers why he hates dealing with her so much – not that the fight did not already make him remember.

“Then it is quite lucky that we are not here to steal it, is it?” he states, sounding as nonchalant as if he was talking about the weather. And maybe just the tiniest bit angry.

Pearl, who must have gathered her bearings during Mesprit and Darkrai’s mad dance, even tries to walk up to her, to help her up, but Darkrai holds his hand in her way, to signal for her to stay back. She ends up standing to Darkrai’s left, while Mesprit is a few steps away, kneeling just before the edge of the lake. Darkrai hopes that the sand over there is wet and cold and that Mesprit hates her own existence right now just as much as he does.

She does not deserve their kindness. Being hurt was her own fault.

“Don’t-don’t lie to me!” she shouts, still out of breath. And hurt. Probably also hurt. “Uxie told me! You stole his Time Gear—”

Here, Darkrai interrupts. “Uxie’s Time Gear? Do correct me if I am wrong, but I am quite sure that they are Dialga’s, are they not?”

This makes Mesprit pause for perhaps half a second, and then snap at him, “You know how I meant it! What do you even need it for?!”

Finally, Pearl’s patience must’ve run out, because she snaps back, “We don’t need it because we didn’t steal it!”

Darkrai, keeping much calmer, explains. “We came here because Uxie asked us to. He wanted to make sure that you would know of the danger the thief poses, as you would likely…” and he stares at her, kneeling in the sand, hurt all over, not able to keep anything safe, “Underestimate him and be bested almost immediately. Even if you do not want to believe so.”

“You ganged up on me!” she screams, and finally seems to have gathered her bearing enough to stand up, and then, float upwards until she faces Darkrai head-on.

“And if Uxie had told me that the thief had two accomplices, I would’ve--!”

“We aren’t accomplices!” Pearl shouts back, and now, Darkrai can hear true anger in her words. “Why aren’t you listening to us?!”

But her words do not make Mesprit stop. Instead, she shouts back, “Don’t lie to me! I heard you talk when you entered the cave, you are here to steal the Time Gear!”

And finally, Darkrai has had enough. “Pearl, we are leaving.”

Both Mesprit and Pearl’s eyes widen at his declaration.

“There is no talking sense into her, and if she believes that in her current state, she can keep the Time Gear safe, who are we to tell her differently? She does not listen. We did what Uxie asked us to do, if she just ignores our words that is not our fault.”

He turns around, intent to make his way back—

And stops in his tracks, staring at the intruder.

“Ah. What peculiar timing,” he manages to breathe out, not feeling very in control of the entire situation right in this moment…

… as out of the shadows steps Grovyle, now that he has been noticed.

Darn it, if Darkrai had known that he was about to face the other, he would not have antagonized Mesprit for quite so long!

“You…” Mesprit breathes, and then, cries, “The thief! So you joined your accomplices, finally?!”

Darkrai would like to hit her for her words.

“My… accomplices?” Grovyle repeats, incredulous – which implies that he only arrived just now, and had not heard the rest of their argument with Mesprit. Which is at least one good thing.

“These two!” Mesprit shouts, probably pointing at them – Darkrai dares not turn around – and that makes Grovyle’s eyes grow much wider.

“We already told you,” Pearl huffs, “We aren’t accomplices!”

And finally, Grovyle speaks up. “I work alone. Whoever these two are, we are not connected.”

Hah! Darkrai would love to laugh at the irony of these words. Instead, he stares back at Mesprit, telling her with just his gaze ‘We told you so’.

And finally, finally, Mesprit seems to understand. “But… But then you told the truth, before…?”

Pearl groans, “Of course we did!”

“I have no business in whatever situation you had before,” Grovyle speaks up from where he stands, “But I will be taking the Time Gear you guard. If you move out of the way, I will harm neither of you.”

And Darkrai is really feeling like doing so. He braved two Dungeons, fought Mesprit, has sand stuck everywhere in his hair, surely he deserves not to engage with Grovyle?

Unfortunately, both Mesprit and Pearl square their shoulders at the thief’s words.

“I won’t let you!” Mesprit hisses, and Pearl cries out, “And neither will we!”

Darkrai rolls his eye.

And then stops in his entire being.

Sh—

Darn it, what should he do?! He cannot engage Grovyle in his current state! He had been warned of his strength multiple times and he would really like to stay alive, thank you very much.

Although he is sure that he must be stronger than Grovyle. Uxie is, after all, weaker than he, and Darkrai is most certainly just as strong as Dusknoir. Stronger, probably. But Grovyle did not have to fight a stupid Psychic Type just now.

But if he does not engage him, it would anger Mesprit, most definitely, and Pearl as well! And if he thinks about the further consequences, Uxie would probably be very cross with him as well, and Dusknoir… Would probably also want him to engage Grovyle. Even if he warned him.

Blast it!

But if he engages Grovyle – Grovyle who will end up saving the world – then Grovyle might bear a grudge against him for doing that!

But will he ever need to team up with Grovyle, anyways?

He might have to! He just does not know!

This situation is horrible!

As the grass type speaks up, Darkrai feels no closer to actually solving anything.

“Stand aside, or I will have to hurt you.”

“I won’t!” Mesprit breathes, not even having the energy to shout anymore. How stupid can she be?!

“Mesprit, you are hurt,” Darkrai hisses, “Step down.”

But she does not do so, because she is supremely stupid. Grovyle seems to realize this too, as he simply nods, a regretful expression on his face.

“I must apologize to you, then…”

And he dashes forward, and only Darkrai’s fear that he would do just that keeps him from getting hit, a stroke of luck which neither Pearl nor Mesprit share with him.

“… But I will be taking this Time Gear.”

Both Pearl and Mesprit are thrown into the sand by his quick hits, and the next moment Grovyle turns towards Darkrai, surprise obvious on his face. Most likely, his quick attacking pattern has only seldomly been evaded – and really, Darkrai understands why! That was just… much too quick!

Immediately, he goes for Double Team – it does not matter if he will fight Grovyle or not, every raised chance at evasion he has he will take. And it is the right decision, as Grovyle swipes for him again, just barely missing. Darkrai feels the air from the attack on his face.

“You—” Grovyle breathes out, as if in surprise, and Darkrai takes the chance to try some conversation.

“We do not need to fight!” He definitely does not sound panicked. He does not.

“If you are intent on protecting the Time Gear, we do,” Grovyle answers, sounding much too calm. Darn it, he must feel as if he is in control of the situation, and by proxy, the fight!

And the thing is… Darkrai is not intent on protecting that stupid Gear. Darn it! But a quick glance towards Mesprit and Pearl – both trying to gather their bearing again, but also watching Grovyle and Darkrai’s exchange – shows him that he cannot openly admit to that. If only they had been knocked out properly.

This entire situation is just bad, in every way!

Except… What if he could get Grovyle to openly admit to his reason for stealing them?

That… That would solve all of his problems! Pearl would most certainly sympathize with his plight, and Mesprit would have to see reason, too! … Or not, knowing her thick skull.

“Why are you so intent on stealing them?” he therefore asks, carefully projecting a sense of calm over his bearing.

Grovyle’s gaze narrows. And then, without further warning, he dashes forward again, intent on hitting Darkrai. And this time, Darkrai cannot evade the attack completely, and instead feels Grovyle’s claws impact with his unguarded side – he had raised his arms to keep his face safe, leaving the rest of his body unprotected.

And the moment of the impact, he realizes what Uxie tried to warn him about.

The air is forcefully punched out of his lungs, and he is sent flying to the side. Only his legs safe him from being thrown straight into the ground, but he has to spend a few seconds, just trying to get his breathing back – seconds which Grovyle uses to dash forward against, trying to hit him once again.

If Darkrai had not used Double Team before, the attack would surely have found its target.

And so, he uses it again, instead of trying to attack – everything to stop another attack like that from hitting him.

It’s just in time, as Grovyle has apparently decided that they are to fight now, swiping for Darkrai again and again, in increasingly short succession. Darn it, Darkrai has not felt this overwhelmed in a fight in a long time!

He moves to evade the attacks, only barely managing for each swipe. Left, right, below, right, left, right, below, and on, and on, without pause.

Darkrai almost gets dizzy. Anything but the fight fades from his mind, his whole world becoming only the next approaching swipe, the next move he needs to keep himself until Grovyle attacks one again.

It—

It can’t go on like this.

But as he moves on, ignoring the aches of his body, ignoring whatever might be happening around him, he realizes that he won’t manage to turn this fight around. Grovyle is too swift, Darkrai too tired. The only thing he can do is evade the attacks. For now.

And then, finally, blessedly finally, he has an idea which could just save him. Dancing out of the way of another swipe, he allows himself a moment to look around, find his position, and once he has done so, starts moving strategically over the beach, more and more towards the water. With his ability to float, it will be no difficulty for him to continue fighting there, but Grovyle should not be so lucky.

Unless he wants to swallow water, of course.

On and on they move, and Darkrai realizes how Mesprit must’ve felt before, when he was the one attacking.

Grovyle seems not to notice what Darkrai is doing just yet, and then, finally, Darkrai has the lake behind him. As Grovyle swipes anew, Darkrai moves back, and the terrain beneath him changes to water.

Grovyle swipes again—

Only to almost lose his footing and move back the tiniest bit to right himself. Darkrai, meanwhile, uses this to move away even further. Perhaps Grovyle knows no attacks which have a far reach, and even if they do, now that there is more open space between them, Darkrai’s chance of evasion will be much better.

Before Grovyle can react to it, Darkrai uses Ominous Wind, in a desperate try to push him back even more. And for a moment, it works.

And then, Darkrai feels his own attack slam into him, as well. He only barely manages to stay above the water through it.

“You-,” he gasps, “You know Pursuit?!”

And judging by Grovyle’s sudden grin, he does.

Blast it!

He cannot—

Darkrai takes a deep breath. And another, because, well, he might just be the tiniest bit winded.

As long as he does not attack, he should be safe. As long as he stays over the water, Grovyle cannot attack him. Hopefully. It’s a stalemate if he has ever seen one.

In front of him, Grovyle also seems to allow himself to go into a resting position.

And as both of them grow still, Darkrai starts to perceive what is happening around him, again. Over on the beach, to the right of Grovyle, Mesprit is kneeling in the sand. Pearl, meanwhile, has seemingly managed to get on her feet again, and is—

Only years of strict control over his emotions, as well as an illusion which only allows the barest things to show on his face, keep Darkrai from shouting at her – or even showing that he saw her.

What does she think she is doing?! Tiptoeing as carefully as she can, she is trying to get closer to Grovyle, from behind him. He seems not to have noticed her yet, but he will, before she even has a chance to do whatever she is trying to do!

And once he does…

For fu--, Why is Pearl so stupid?! And Darkrai cannot even tell her to stop, because it would alert Grovyle! This stupid, stupid little—

He will not have her die!  …to Grovyle.

And so, he attacks with Ominous Wind again, no matter that he will be harmed in the attack as well, and this time also allows it to hit Pearl.

And it does as he intended– it throws her back a few steps. He only sees the widening of her eyes for the fraction of a second, because the next moment, he has dashed forward, this time on the offensive against Grovyle. He ignores the pain from his own attack and makes a swipe for Grovyle’s face.

The Grass Type must not have expected this, as Darkrai almost manages to hit him the first time, but then, he is on the move again, and their dance starts anew, just that this time, Darkrai is on the offensive.

But he can feel himself tiring out.

Grovyle must notice it too, because suddenly, he answers the attack not with an evasion but an attack of his own and… Darkrai will not let himself lose to him!

He starts attacking more frantically, knowing completely well how dangerous that is, but at least it keeps Grovyle on his feet. Darkrai does not know what the next attack will be, but neither does Grovyle, and so they should—

And then, one of Grovyle’s swipes hits him in the side, the same place as before, and he is thrown to the ground. He lands on his side, now very thankful for the overabundance of sand. It does hurt, of course. But it could be worse.

For a few moments, he just allows himself to lie there, unmoving. His heart is beating as if he ran for hours, and he can do naught but stare at the sand before his face. He could just… continue lying here. Act like Grovyle really bested him.

‘Oh yes, I did my best to keep the Gear safe, of course! Grovyle was just too strong, bo-hoo.’ It would be easy to claim so.

But Darkrai’s pride will not let that happen, and so, he forces his body to stand up again. Just in time, because with each second passing, he can feel it wanting to cease listening to his commands.

“You lost,” Grovyle says, voice deceptively calm – but Darkrai can clearly hear that he is masking his own heavy breathing, “Don’t push it. I don’t want to hurt you.”

And as Darkrai forces himself to stand up fully – relying completely on his shaking legs to hold him upright – he chuckles, without emotion. “Too late for that, I fear.”

“I will give you this last chance. Stand down now.” Judging by his gaze, he means it. This is a last chance.

(“If I had not given up when I did, moved out of the way and allowed him to take the Time Gear, I… I am not sure if he would not have—")

At the memory of Uxie’s words, Darkrai shudders. He…

His life is more important than his pride. Always has been. Always will be.

He dares not take his eyes of Grovyle. Grovyle, who still seems poised for an attack.

Darkrai could let go of his illusion. That way, he’d have more power, use his normal fighting style. Put Grovyle to sleep, pull him into an endless nightmare. It would be better than dying.

But all his plans, the years he invested in them, the payoff he knows will be exhilarating…

He can’t just abandon that. And what good would there be in revealing himself right now, anyways? There is no need to win this fight. He wants to, but much more than that, he wants to survive.

Grovyle has not made a move yet. And then, in just a moment of carelessness, Darkrai lets his gaze wander away from the other—

And he sees Mesprit and Pearl, on the other side of the beach. They must be at least a dozen metres, maybe even a score away. So very far away…

Darkrai forces himself to look at Grovyle again. The others gaze has hardened, tiring of waiting for an answer but unwilling to attack – to kill – before it has been given.

A new plan forms within Darkrai’s mind.

Grovyle is dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. And whenever Darkrai meets a danger that he can’t win against in a fight, a danger which might still be willing to listen to him, he will use what has served him best in all his years – his words.

He speaks quiet, too quiet to be heard as far away as Mesprit and Pearl are. “I know of the dark future. And I… cannot allow it to happen.”

Grovyle’s eyes grow wide just as his jaw grows slack.

Darkrai continues, even quieter, even quicker. “Let me help you. I know that the Time Gears can save Temporal Tower. Just…” He looks to the left and the right, as if paranoid that he may be overheard. And who knows, most likely, he is. “Dusknoir tried to get me to help him. He believes I’m on his side.”

After all, why should only Dusknoir believe Darkrai to be on his side? He has an opportunity right now to further his reach, if only he manages to seize it.

“You…!” Grovyle starts, and as he moves closer, Darkrai forces himself to remain standing where he is. It feels entirely wrong. “How do I know you are not helping him?!”

“How would letting you get the Time Gear help him?!” Darkrai hisses back, and then tries to look as crestfallen as he can.

“I know that… there’s no reason to trust me. But…” Once again he looks to his left and right, and then, with quicker words, says, “We don’t have time for this! I will…”

He takes a breath. Here comes the part of this hurriedly thrown together plan he really does not like. “I will allow you to knock me out. Take the Time Gear. We will… we will meet again. And please, believe me.”

Grovyle’s eyes are still impossibly wide, but then, he makes a decision. And really, Darkrai made it easy for him – he will allow himself to be knocked out, and Grovyle will be able to take the Time Gear. In the grand scheme of things, it changes nothing for the two of them – the outcome of their battle became obvious when Darkrai went to the ground.

But still, to willingly let someone who just threatened to maybe kill you, someone who, if Darkrai judged his character right, does not actually want to do so but feels as if he needs to, anyways; to let yourself be knocked out by someone like that shows a certain amount of trust.

Trust in a stranger he met for the first time today (or at least that is what it seems like to Grovyle, anyways). Trust that Grovyle is doing the right thing. Trust that Grovyle will not kill him.

It is a sign of utter trust, and the best Darkrai can do in this situation.

Grovyle flashes forward, Darkrai forces himself to remain standing motionless, tries not to flinch as the paw comes closer—

And then, it impacts with his head and he is once again thrown to the ground.

…

Unfortunately for Darkrai, Grovyle might have decided to be just a tiny bit too careful, because he does not get knocked out. Darn it. Now he has a colossal headache on top of everything else. And the next second, he hears a desperate cry of—

“DARCY!” and the pitter-patter of tiny feet running over the sand to reach his side.

He remains lying prone. Best to make it as dramatic as possible.

Not that it is hard. The pain is only now starting to truly set in and… for fff-ate’s sake, it hurts. And now that he is actively thinking about it, all the other aches and wounds he must’ve accumulated over the day start to set in, and wow, it really is not hard to just remain lying here, actually.

To his side, he hears a splash – Grovyle getting in the water to get the Time Gear? He’s not sure – but the next moment, there is another noise – like something falling into the sand. And then, there’s a presence by his side, and judging by the voice, it must be Pearl.

“Darcy, are you alright?! Oh no, no, no, no… You are okay, right? Right? Say something, please!”

He tries to force his eyes open – when did he close them? – but when that is just too hard, he instead murmurs, “…’m alright…”

Maybe he could’ve said it properly, if he tried. But he just got ‘knocked out’. He needs to act the part.

Something like a sob escapes Pearl – how emotional. “Here, eat!” And something gets forced down his throat. He thinks of biting the hand, but decides against it in the end. He can do that later. He thinks.

It is a good call, as his head seems to clear considerably, and some of his pains also fade to be not much more than background-noise. He is not sure if it was an Oran Berry or a Reviver Seed, but it definitely helped.

“Are you-, can you get up?” she asks, tentatively, and finally, Darkrai manages to open his eye.

“Need… I need a few seconds… Then, I guess…”

And the next second, he finds himself… enveloped by her?

… What?

“I got so scared! Don’t… Don’t do that again, please! Just… if you get really hurt…”

Is she… hugging him? Darkrai can’t even concentrate on her words, instead frozen in place because of this… this… physical contact. Too much. This is all too much.

“Pearl,” he finally manages to get out, “Let… Let go…!”

At his words, she raises her head, to look into his eye. He cannot help but raise his hands, in a try to shove her off. “I… Get off, I hate touch, just let go—”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, immediately letting go. But the damage is done, and Darkrai feels like throwing up, feels as if he needs to get to the edge of the lake and—

He takes a deep breath, presses his hand against his eye until it starts to hurt, until he starts to see colours which do not exist. Even then, he continues pressing for just a little longer, just so he has something else to concentrate on.

Everything is alright. He is alright. He is not so weak as to allow his body to do whatever it wants to do. Slowly, he eases his hand away from his eye, but keeps it closed. He takes a calming breath, and another one, and as he is about to take the third, Pearl speaks up again.

“I’m… I’m really sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

Darkrai gives a noncommittal hum as answer, instead concentrating on breathing. Another breath comes, another breath goes.

He feels calm enough after eight breaths. As he opens his eye, some little flecks dance in his vision, but they disappear quickly.

“You couldn’t,” he admits, finally, “I never told you. Just… do not do it again. Or warn me three days in advance,” he tries for some humour.

It seems to help, as Pearl nods, the previous… well, whatever emotion she was showing gone from her eyes. It looked very similar to pity, but for her benefit, Darkrai will act as if it was not.

“Alright. That’s… alright. Can you stand now? We need to get away from here. Mesprit warned me that the moment Grovyle takes the Gear away, that, well, time will start stopping down here.”

“Of course,” Darkrai confirms, nodding for added assurance. And then forces himself to actually stand up. His legs are shaky beneath him, and each step he takes makes him feel as if he is on a ship in a storm, just trying not to get thrown on the ground. But he can deal with this. He has done so before, he can do it again.

He will just concentrate on the feeling of his legs straining with every step, because maybe, like this, he won’t have to think about the hug he just had to endure.

It has been some time since he actually had to rely on his legs for walking, he ponders. It’s not like he can’t do so, floating is just… easier. But when he gets especially tired, he will use them, just as he does now.

Pearl walks in front of him, towards Mesprit, who also seems to have gotten up again. Darkrai can already see the beginnings of some bruises forming. He is sure that he must have inflicted quite a few of them, but does not feel sorry about it.

She nods at him, maybe in greeting, maybe in another emotion that only she has ever known, and then adds a quiet, “I’m… sorry. For doubting you, as well.” And then, resolve grows in her face. “But right now, we need to get out of here. The moment he takes the Time Gear—”

And perfectly timed, the cave starts to shake and rumble, as if there was an earthquake. Darkrai ponders that, actually, it is an earthquake, is it not? Maybe very confined, but an earthquake nonetheless.

“That’s what I meant!” Mesprit shouts over the noise, and Darkrai can hear real panic in her voice. “We need to run, now!”

And that, they do.

 

So, apparently, there is a hidden exit out of the cave system, just a little off from the beach where they fought. Great. Just splendid. Darkrai would sure have loved to know about that before they jumped into Quicksand and spent probably hours in a Dungeon where sand is absolutely everywhere.

Does it make sense for a hidden exit to exist? Definitely. Does it make sense for Darkrai not to know about it? Absolutely not.

In any way, the passage leads them out of the caves in just about twenty minutes, at most, time they spend just hurrying upwards. After the first few minutes, they figure that the stopping time might not reach this far – the earthquake, at least, does not – but the fear of it doing just that, just slower, keeps them on their toes.

Not much words are spoken on the way, since… Well, all of them are barely keeping themselves upright. Talking would need energy none of them currently have.

Finally, theexit comes into view, showing first a dark sky with only some stars to see, and then they find themselves on top of the cliffs where below, the first Dungeon Pearl and Darkrai travelled through today lies. Perhaps yesterday, actually, judging by the night sky.

Here is where they finally allow themselves to collapse ungraciously. Darkrai looks at the stars for some moments, and draws the conclusion that, based on their positions, the sky will start lightening in about an hour.

“If we want to take a break, we need to do so now,” he therefore speaks up. “In around two hours, the sun will rise—”

“And sleeping when the sun’s out is stupid and dangerous,” Mesprit interrupts and ends his sentence for him.

“… Exactly,” Darkrai forces out, feeling just the tiniest bit murderous at her interruption. She’s always tended to do that. And he has always hated her doing it.

“Then… I’ll take the watch!” Pearl speaks up, all false bravado. Is she trying to impress Mesprit?

His stare must show his confusion, because she hurries to explain. “I… you two did most of the fighting. I just got… thrown to the side a few times. So I’m the least exhausted.”

There is an undercurrent of an emotion Darkrai does not even try to comprehend in her words, so he simply nods, accepting that. “Sure. You do that.”

Instead of lying down immediately – even though he would really like to do so – he starts searching through the bag for the salve and bandages he always keep with him. It is a shame that he had to buy them again, seeing as they are quite pricey. But they are worth it, definitely. The salve will help the wounds he got today to heal faster, as well as dull the pain he can still feel from them. The bandages are just there to stop it from spreading absolutely everywhere.

And so, he starts on dressing his wounds, not even caring about how weird it might look through the illusion. On normal days – or nights, respectively – he only does this when he is not watched, but today, he has lost his ability to care about it, it seems.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Pearl says, coming over to him. “Can I… uh… take it over to Mesprit, once you are finished?”

Darkrai, at first, wants to tell her that no, she cannot do so, he does not care about Mesprit’s wounds, but…

Well, they will have to take Mesprit back to Treasure Town, now, do they not? And there, Uxie will be, and Uxie…

“My brother knows about our situation,” Mesprit speaks up, suddenly.

Without thinking, Darkrai asks back, “Which brother?”

Mesprit stares at him in what Darkrai thinks might be annoyance. “Which brother do you think? Smarta-“

“Don’t finish that word,” Darkrai interrupts before she can do so. Ugh, he had forgotten that she does not shy away from using swear words. She is not as bad as Cresselia,… but still. So very annoying.

“Sissy,” Mesprit snarks back, and that, finally does it for Darkrai. Why does she believe she can get away with behaviour like this?

“Oh, go and die in a ditch,” he hisses back, making no try to hold his anger back, “I didn’t almost get killed trying to keep your Time Gear safe, after you tried to knock me out, for you to behave like this, you moronic midget.”

First, there is a moment of baffled silence and then—

“What did you just call me, you sad excuse of a—“, “Darcy, you can’t just say that!”

He huffs and decides to address Pearl’s complaint. “Oh, and she can just go off on me because of what, exactly?”

“How about almost knocking me out?!”

This… this behaviour…! “Oh, do excuse me,” he says, in his sweetest voice, and immediately lets it grow cold with his next words, “But I did not feel like letting you knock me out for no other reason than that you decided not to listen.”

This, at least, makes her stop for a tiny moment. And then, she bursts. “Not listen?! You did not give me reason to! You sneak into my domain, knock out every Pokémon you meet on the way and then just attack me! And you didn’t even do it reluctantly like Piplup, no, you go all in, hate spewing forth in every direction!”

“Well, next time I will make sure to knock the doorbell, wherever it may be!” he hisses back, and then actually comprehends her last words and—

“Oh,” he breathes in shock, “You can feel my emotions.”

Mesprit snarls back, “Of course I can! I’m the Being of Emotions! And for some reason, you just hate me!”

“I don’t,” Darkrai huffs, absolutely lying through his teeth. “I might be annoyed with you, but—”

“I can feel your hate, you liar!”

“Stop interrupting me!”

“ENOUGH!” a voice cries, and it is, surprisingly, Pearl. “This-, All of this, Stop it right now!”

For a moment, he thinks about arguing with her, tell her that Mesprit has no reason to behave as she does. And he almost says so out loud, but in the end decides against it. He is not in the mood for arguing, neither with Mesprit nor with Pearl. It won’t do any good.

“We’re all tired, and angry, and sad, but… but blowing up at each other is completely useless! Mesprit, I’m really, really sorry for what happened, and I wish that we could’ve helped you more, kept Grovyle from getting the Time Gear. But we didn’t, and there’s no way to go back in time to change that.”

She takes a deep breath. “But you also have to realize that you attacked us first and didn’t let us explain anything. And I get that you thought we’d steal the Time Gear, and that Darcy might not have helped that, and so you wanted to go on the offensive, but still. It happened like it did, it’s too late to change it.”

Mesprit stares at her, then sighs and averts her eyes. “I guess.”

“And Darcy…” Here, Pearl sighs heavily. “Just because someone uses swear words doesn’t mean that they are insulting you, personally. We all had a bad day but… We can’t just turn on each other like this, or just start hating each other because we’re in a bad mood. Because I know that you absolutely do that, but Mesprit is really not the one to blame for our bad day. Let’s just… sleep, for as long as we can, okay? I mean, you two sleep, I’ll keep watch.” She tries for a small chuckle. “And once you’ve slept, I bet everything’s gonna look much better, already!” A forced smile appears on her face. It does not even reach her eyes.

“Sure,” he finally ends up saying, and then, without sparing Mesprit another glance, continues bandaging the many scratches he accumulated over the day. One, two, three… He does not bother to continue counting after that. It’s too many, anyways.

Grovyle…

Well. The warnings, in hindsight, were not just weak Pokémon speaking of their experiences.

Only once he has finished the bandaging, does he look in Mesprit’s direction. Currently, she is leaning against a rock – it would be small for Darkrai, but for Mesprit, it has the perfect height – and staring at the night sky.

Darkrai simply puts the salve and bandages closer to her – if she really needs it, she can get it herself – then takes out one of the blankets from the bag.

… If he did not offer Mesprit the second one, Pearl would get angry, probably, wouldn’t she? Ugh. Such a bother. Nevertheless, he takes the second one out as well and lays it down next to the salve and bandages.

That done, he stands up, shakes out the blanket and after looking around a little, lays it down next to a boulder. This one is just a little higher than the one Mesprit is leaning against, and although it gives almost no security, it is still better than lying completely unguarded. Besides, Pearl will keep guard. Even if she failed at keeping danger away, she would alert him to it with her dying cry. Probably.

Finally, he sits down on the blanket and after throwing a short “Good night” at Pearl, lies down on his side, his back to the boulder.

And he sleeps.

 

He wakes, as he usually does, shortly after the sun has stopped touching the horizon. His inner clock has never really allowed him to sleep much longer than that, ever since he switched his sleeping cycle around. In any way, he does feel slightly more rested, now, so he counts that as a win.

Mesprit is still asleep, judging by the snoring he can hear – he had forgotten about that. Poor Uxie, who will soon have to share a room with her. Maybe. If it was him, forced to do so, he would insist on getting his own room.

Especially if it was not Mesprit, but Darkrai’s sister. She might not snore, but he still does not want to share a room.

Well. It does not matter, anyways. They are not about to share a room in the next few millennia. Actually, probably until the end of the world.

… Yes, that sounds right. Never again will they have to share a room because once Darkrai has taken his revenge on Pearl, he will also take revenge on Cresselia. He is not quite sure in what way, yet, but preferably one that keeps her from ever getting on his nerves ever again.

But at the moment, ruining his past-selves plans is more important to ensure his own continued survival.

Sitting up, he first spends some time stretching himself – he must have laid unmoving for the entire time he was asleep, because his left arm – the one he was lying on – hurts quite badly. Or, now that he thinks about it, he might have been hit by an attack there yesterday. In fact, that sounds much more logical – he only slept for not even two hours, after all.

This is when Pearl notices that he is awake – her situational awareness isn’t the best, it seems. He will have to change that.

“Oh, Darcy! Good morning! Did you sleep alright?” And then, she yawns.

“Mostly, yes. Are you tired?”

She nods. “A little. But I think the tiredness is currently being replaced by hyperactivity.” She shrugs. “I don’t quite understand it, but I’ll take it. I might collapse over the day, though, can’t promise anything.”

Darkrai hums to that. “If you do, we will find a way to keep you going. I want to manage our way back to the guild today.”

“That’s… gonna be exhausting.”

He nods. “Indeed. But Mesprit is hurt, so the sooner we can get her medical attention, the better.”

Pearl slouches. “I know. And you are hurt too! It’s just… I wish we still had our badge. Then Officer Magnezone, or someone from the guild, could come and gather us halfway. Or maybe, we could, I mean, Chatot explained that, theoretically, the badge should be able to teleport us back to the guild, right?”

Darkrai stares at her in incomprehension. “Teleport us to the guild? You must have misunderstood something. There is no way that it can do that.”

“I… Well, I guess,” Pearl admits defeat. “Not that we could try it out, anyways. It’s just so mean that the Pokémon stole our bag! It could’ve at least given us back the necessary things, right? Like the badge. And… Wait, was your Relic Fragment in the bag?”

Around Darkrai, time seems to stop. He feels himself stop breathing, but just can’t get his lungs to fill with air again. His-, The Relic Fragment! It… it… of course he put it in the bag the moment he could! Wearing it around his neck got annoying!

But… but now, with the bag officially stolen he… he can’t just find it again, can he? Oh no, oh no, oh no.

He takes a calming breath. It’s not as if he is going to need it, though. Sure, it would have been fun to rub into Dialga’s face that he possesses it, and sure, he might have found a way to abuse it for something once all of these plans had grown over, but…!

But it’s not as if he needs it.

“Darcy, is… Everything alright?”

“Yes, of course it is,” he snaps. “The Fragment is now lost. Unfortunate, is it not?” And he turns around, to start on packing his bag once again.

He can hear Pearl come closer, but a hissed, “Not now, Pearl,” makes her back off, again. Instead, he hears her walk over to Mesprit, where she gently wakes the annoyance. Darkrai just ignores the two of them for the moment.

He just… his Relic Fragment. Darn it!

He… may need to find a way to get it back. Which completely relies on his hope to get the bag back, which relies on the hope that no one has gone into the bushes to investigate whether the ‘mysterious Pokémon’ left through there.

Great.

As he hears Pearl approaching again, he rolls his shoulders, once, twice, stretches his arms until he feels the blood rush there, again. Finally, he turns around.

“You do not need to say anything, like that you are sorry. It is… I am not happy about this loss. But we still must return to the guild, so I would say that we should head out now, before the heat gets too intense.” He looks at her, and she seems… well, not sad, but somewhat downtrodden.

“Yeah. I… yeah. If you want, though, we can hang up a notice on the job board? Maybe someone will find it.”

That… is actually not such a bad idea. Get someone else to do the dirty work. Or… oh, he could get the Fragment himself (if the bag has not been found), and inconspicuously make someone else then find it in another place. And that Pokémon could then return it to him. Yes, that is a great idea!

He forces a smile. “That sounds like a plan.”

Pearl smiles back. “Great! Then off we go!”

And off they go.

 

“It’s so bright,” Mesprit groans, not for the first time, today.

Which is a completely nonsensical statement, since it really is not that bright today. It is already autumn, after all.

“Woe is you,” he therefore answers, “How cruel this bright world must be to you, who spends her entire days in a cave. Surely, the world is to blame and not you.”

“You--,” she starts, the breaks off, as if thinking about her next words. Darkrai, of course, knows that she never thinks, and that, therefore, whatever comes out of her mouth will reflect that. “What’s your problem?!” she finally settles on.

Seems as if she is lacking the necessary energy to truly argue.

That’s quite alright with Darkrai. He, too, is not truly feeling up to arguing, anymore. After all, they’ve already spent more than half the way to the guild doing so.

Still, she made an open invitation to incense her, and he will not let her down. “My problem… Hm, how to best describe it? It is tiny, has two tails, pink hair and its name is—”

“You asshole!” she shouts, and the next moment, she is trying to swipe at him. He moves out of the way, of course, but still, if she wants to fight, he won’t refuse her. He lunges out and—

“What is WRONG with you two?!” someone shouts, making Darkrai stop in his tracks.

The shouting voice was, of course, Pearl. Most arguments before, she had just sighed heavily and ignored them, but it seems she has reached her breaking point.

“Okay, so, some people don’t get along. Great to know that’s you two! But I’ve been listening to your stupid squabbles for the entire day, and it’s enough! Just STOP IT!”

“It’s not my fault if he constantly tries--,” “She is clearly trying to rile me—”

“You sound like little children! ‘He did!’, ‘No she did!’, I don’t fucking care! Either get over your differences or shut the fuck up!” and with that, she throws her arms back down, and continues stomping along the path. For a few moments, Darkrai thinks about continuing his argument with Mesprit, but…

She really is behaving like a child, and since he is the smarter of them, he should just ignore her, from now on.

With a ‘hmpf’, Mesprit seemingly decides to do the same.

And then, he realizes…

Not able to stop his eye from narrowing, he speaks up. “Where did you learn that word, Pearl?”

She groans. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does! It’s… abhorrent!”

“It’s a word.”

“Yes, but not one you, or anyone, for that matter, should use!”

“Darcy, please. I swear to whatever gods are willing to hear it, I don’t care.”

And that, for a few moments, stops him in his tracks. Only to then make him even more insistent. “You can’t just—”

“Darcy! I don’t annoy you for not using swear words, so just accept that sometimes, I will use them.”

From the side, Mesprit giggles, making Darkrai huff.

“Shut it, midget.”

“That the best you got? Fucking As—”

Darkrai screeches to drown out her voice.

 

They arrive at the edge of Treasure Town in a rather… questionable mood. The sun is about to set, and just before the entrance to town stand Uxie, Wigglytuff and Magnezone. The moment they come into view, Uxie hurries forward and the next moment, has Mesprit enveloped in a hug that, admittedly, seems very bone-crushing.

“Uxie, my-my wounds, please, it hurts!”

And immediately, Uxie lets go. “I apologize, I didn’t think! It’s just…” And carefully, he looks her over, and in the end decides to take her hand to squeeze it. “I was so worried,” he admits, finally.

The rest of them had watched the exchange, but seemingly decided at the same moment to give the two of them some space. And so, they move a little to the side.

“Wonderful to see you!” Wigglytuff greets them, beaming. Huh. Seems like today is a rather… present day for him. “Chatot was super worried! He constantly kept asking me if we shouldn’t go after you,” he tells, laughing. “But I said, ‘No, they are strong! And you’re just a meanie-pants, trying to take their adventure from them!’”

… Or maybe not.

Pearl grins at the story. “It’s good to see you too, Guildmaster.” And then, her grin falls, to be replaced by a frown. “We’ve… a lot to tell.”

“Oh, don’t worry, don’t worry! We already know some parts from Uxie! And we are proud of you, you really did your best!” his smile, against all laws of logic, reason, physics and biology, grows even larger.

“But we will still need a report from you three!” Magnezone interjects, the amount of static in his voice betraying the agitation he must feel. “You have now faced the thief himself, we need to know everything we can!”

“And they’ll do that, just later!” Wigglytuff laughs. “They must be very hungry, after all!”

“Piplup and Duskull?” a voice speaks up beside them, and as one, they turn around. It is Uxie.

“I… on behalf of my sister and I, I must thank you.” His voice is measured and calm, showing just how serious he must be about this. Then again, Uxie does not lie. If he thanks them, he means it. “If you had not been there, I fear of what could have happened.”

“It’s alright!” Pearl hurries to answer, “We did what everyone would have done!”

Darkrai does not miss the slightest movement of Uxie’s head, as if he was about to look towards him but stopped himself in time. It is not surprising. Both of them know that, no, not everyone would normally have done so.

“Still, I remain thankful. My sister’s foolishness might have cost her life if you had not been there.”

“Duskull beat me up, though! Most of my wounds are from him!” Mesprit shouts from behind.

For once in his life, Uxie seems almost angry as he turns to answer her. “Yes, and if you had just listened to him for a second, this would not have happened!”

“And,” Pearl speaks up, and she is definitely angry, “He almost got himself killed, trying to keep your Time Gear safe! I bet if you hadn’t insisted on fighting before, he’d have won!”

“What?” Uxie and Mesprit ask at the same time, in exactly the same tone. Darkrai holds back a chuckle at the display. And also at the way Uxie now turns towards Mesprit fully, his generally emotionless face… well, still mostly emotionless, but Darkrai can see that there is just the tiniest hint of true anger.

“Why did you not tell me about this?”

Mesprit looks utterly clueless. “But… he… what…?” She stares first at Darkrai, then at Pearl, then at Darkrai again. And then Pearl. “I… I didn’t…”

“You didn’t what?” Pearl huffs, putting her flippers on her hip.

Mesprit stares at Pearl, and then hangs her head in what Darkrai assumes must be shame. She mumbles something, too quiet to be made out.

“What?” Pearl asks, and then, Mesprit finally admits, “I didn’t notice, alright! I thought he just got thrown to the side, like we did!”

“When I ran to his side, he couldn’t even talk properly! He couldn’t move, and if we had not packed a Reviver Seed, he would’ve stayed lying there for who knows how long! Probably eternity, because he wouldn’t have been able to run away in time!” Pearl cries, and that, finally, makes Mesprit’s eyes widen.

And also Darkrai’s. He… he had not realized. But Pearl is right. If he had remained lying, he would have—

He violently forces the panic down.

He did not remain behind. That is what is currently important. And once he is asleep, his nightmares can deal with this topic.

Instead, he comes to a realization. “Is that why you were so angry at me, afterwards? You thought I had not given enough?”

Mesprit sputters. “You were the one who hated me first!”

“And for good reason, obviously!”

“Just meeting someone and hating them from the get-go is not a good reason!”

“Oh, as if you would—”

The sound of loud sniffling interrupts him, and he remembers that, ah, yes. They still have a rather… big audience. And so, he simply looks in a different direction.

“Friends, please!” Wigglytuff, expectedly, cries. He sounds truly distressed. “There’s no need to fight!” And he sniffles again. “Or I’ll cry!”

Ugh. Suddenly, Darkrai wishes that he was fighting Grovyle again or something. Even that was more enjoyable.

“Everything is alright, Guildmaster. Mesprit and I do not truly hate each other,” and he throws her a glance which should tell her to shut it, not interrupt, and most definitely not insist on them hating each other, “We are just tired.”

And, surprisingly, Mesprit does not contradict him. “Yes, that’s right. Don’t worry, please.”

Hm, she might be able to-, no, he definitely knows that she must have felt Wigglytuff’s emotions. And for once in her life made the smart decision.

Finally, Uxie sighs. “It seems that I must apologize on behalf of my sister for her ignorance.” There is most definitely annoyance in his words. And then, he stares directly at Darkrai – luckily with his eyes still closed, of course.

“And I must thank you for how desperately you tried to keep the Time Gear safe. I know… Well. We have not always seen eye-to-eye—”

At this, Darkrai snorts, at part because of the wording, and at part because that is quite the understatement.

“—but you went above and beyond what I expected. Thank you, Dar-, Darcy.”

And he bows.

Darkrai does not want to admit it, but this… whole… situation makes him quite uncomfortable, and so, he averts his gaze, instead choosing to look at the sky. Hoping that anyone else will say something.

“It is going to get too dark for any of you to properly see quite soon,” he attempts to ignore all of this when no one else decides to make the sacrifice.

“Oh, yes, yes! I promised Chatot that I wouldn’t be too late, or I’ll miss my bedtime story!”

… His what?

“Come, come, Pearl, Darcy! Let’s hurry home, lalala.” And he has started singing an awful tune. Wonderful. If he could now also hit the right notes, that would be just splendid.

Magnezon, however, tries to stop the pink menace from walking off. “Guildmaster Wigglytuff, we still need to—”

“Tomorrow, tomorrow, dear friend, tomorrow!” Wigglytuff sings in answer, and very obviously, Magnezone has often enough talked with the insane Pokémon to recognize defeat.

“Tomorrow, then,” he… sighs? There is a sound of static following the words sounding uncannily like it. He continues, “Mesprit and Uxie, if you will follow me.” And he starts floating off towards the… jail? gaol? Darkrai is still not sure on the name.

“Good night, Uxie! And Mesprit, you too,” Pearl calls out, waving at them.

Uxie smiles, a little, tight smile. “To you as well, Pearl, Darcy.”

And Mesprit even deigns to speak up, as well. “Yeah, uh, good night.”

Darkrai decides not to engage in these useless wishes. Uxie knows perfectly well that Darkrai will never have a good night.

 

“Sunflora, don’t!” Pearl cries, making Sunflora stop in what appears to be shock.

“What? Why?”

“Darcy… Darcy doesn’t like it.”

“Darcy doesn’t like hugs?!”

Darkrai raises his eyebrow, staring annoyed at Sunflora, who still has her arms prepared to envelope him any second. He would move out of the way if there was not a wall behind him. Well. He could move in there, but he is not feeling like it. “It is still Duskull to you, Sunflora.”

And that, finally, makes her let her arms fall. “Eeek, no need to be as cold as a Glaceon!”

Darkrai just rolls his eye in answer.

He would like to be asleep, right now, thank you very much, the day was long enough. But no, that is not acceptable to the members of Wigglytuff’s guild! It does not matter that they shared dinner with each other, or that, after that, they had the shortest possible briefing, which boiled down to ‘Pearl and Darcy encountered Grovyle, be nice to them, tomorrow there’ll be more, good night’.

No, that is not enough for three of the guild’s members, it seems. Darkrai just wishes that they were still away on their own assignments, but alas, he is not that lucky.

Instead, they are currently in Pearl’s and his room, annoying him with not just their very presence, but also their endless chatter and, as proven just now by Sunflora, their ignorance of his boundaries.

(A quiet voice in the back of his mind tries to tell him that it is not ignorance if they have no way of possibly knowing, but he quells it immediately.)

“I-, uh, I mean…” Bidoof starts to stutter, “It’s… Uh… it’s perfectly alright not to like hugs? My Gram, uh, she also didn’t like hugs?”

“But like, why? Why would anyone not like hugs?” Sunflora insists on her take on it, which is still very, very annoying.

Especially since Darkrai would really like to sleep. Having to deal with Mesprit for most of the day was draining enough, darn it!

“Sunflora,” Chimecho speaks up, her voice gentle as always, “It’s alright not to like touch, for whatever reason. I think it’s great that we finally know why Duskull is so reluctant to come closer than one metre to anyone but Pearl.”

… What. He doesn’t… He avoids everyone like that, Pearl included. Just because he is sometimes forced to stand closer to her does not mean that… well, whatever Chimecho meant to imply.

Sunflora groans. “I guess. Still!” She turns her gaze towards him and puts her hands on her hips. “You could’ve just said it sooner! Because do you wanna know what I hate more than not being able to hug my friends?”

He almost tells her that they are not friends, but in the end just sighs and asks, “What is it that you hate, then?”

“Making them unhappy, that’s what! And if hugging you makes you unhappy, you should’ve just said so!” she huffs as if in anger, although Darkrai can tell that it is not real. “You big doofus!”

“I am no—”

“You definitely are a big doofus,” Pearl, the backstabber, interrupts him. Even Chimecho dares to nod to that declaration!

The only one not joining into this betrayal is Bidoof, and that’s probably because he is too afraid of Darkrai, still.

Darkrai raises his nose and stares to stare down at them. “You are all traitors. Bidoof is the only one I can trust in this entire guild.”

For a few seconds, there is silence, and then—

“Oh my gosh, Darcy, you played along!”

“It is still Duskull to you, Sunflora—”

“I think the world might be ending—”

“That was actually funny, Darcy!”

“Uh, thank you, Duskull…?”

And then, all of them – safe Darkrai, of course – devolve into laughing. He, instead, moves over to his bed, where he sits himself down, waiting for all of them to finally calm down. When this turns out to be too much waiting, he finally speaks up.

“Are you all finished, now? Because I would quite like to go to sleep.”

“But it’s not even that late,” Sunflora, the biggest annoyance currently, objects.

This time, Pearl does not betray Darkrai. “We’ve… really not had a lot of sleep. Or, uh, no sleep in my case.” A nervous laugh follows her words. “So we’re actually pretty tired.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?!” Sunflora cries, horrified, probably waking even Wigglytuff a few rooms over. Assuming he is already asleep. “Ugh, you two, you are both as horrible as each other! Just tell me things! I don’t wanna keep you awake!”

“Well, I guess I was just too happy to see you all again?” Pearl smiles.

“Still!” Sunflora cries, and then, immediately, begins trying to goad out Chimecho and Bidoof. “Good night, then, you two! Sleep well!”

“Uh, yeah, sleep well!” Bidoof cries, looking back, already half out of the door, and Chimecho adds, “Have a good night.”

How positively annoying.

 

“Hey, Darcy?” Pearl asks, about an hour after they both should already be sleeping. Seems like he is not the only one having troubles.

“Pearl, you should be asleep.”

“Yeah, well, so should you.”

“I have dealt with longer times of not being able to sleep.”

“Sure. And tomorrow, we’ll move out again, and then you’ll fall asleep in a dungeon.”

“Is there anything of actual importance you wanted to say, Pearl?”

“I… Could we maybe… touch?”

“I tell you that I do not like touch and you ask—”

“I know! And… And I’m sorry. But I… I think… I think I’m someone who needs touch, and I guess… I understand that you don’t like hugs, but could we maybe just… touch with our hands? Or just fingers! Wait, I don’t have any fingers anymore. And neither do you… Uh… then just hands, I guess. It doesn’t even have to be long or anything, just—”

“Pearl, stop your babbling,” he interrupts. “If it will make you happy, I suppose I can. But no longer than five seconds, understood?”

“Yes, of course! Thank you so much—”

“And only the tips.”

Notes:

So, yay, a new chapter! Much later than I wanted it to be, but I constantly seem to forget that real life is actually pretty stressful, and that, due to that, things might just need a little longer.

That being said, I have now come up with a new updating schedule (or... hint of a schedule, really): From now on, I will try to update either at the end or beginning of the month. Since I am rewriting huge parts of the story, I simply need more time.
Also, I believe that the next chapter will be out around the end of November - October is simply too stressful for me to finish the next chapter, I hope you all understand!

With that out of the way, I just wanna mention that Mesprit and Darkrai just… happened.

Mesprit and Darkrai just… happened. They decided to hate each other, and I could do nothing but write it down. I do want to make clear, however, that this is NOT a situation where one party is in the right and the other is not. This is just two people being completely different and making no effort to get along, at all (and also being quite stressed and already having bad emotions all around). But also, I think their energy is hilarious because they actually DO behave like little kids. Pearl and Uxie have their work cut out for them.

Also, about Darkrai double-crossing (triple-crossing) the people all around him: While working on the last chapters, I came to the realization that, in my fic, Darkrai might start out with acceptable plans, but that they generally fail because he has too high an opinion of himself and his planning ability, and so will a) start to make things more complicated, believing that he can still manage all of it and b) start adding too many players to his plans.
Where will this lead, in this instance? Well, if that is not the interesting question.
In any way, triple-trucies are never a good idea.

Have a great week!

Chapter 14: One is your-azelf, two's company, three's a crowd

Summary:

Last Chapter: Darkrai and Pearl make their way to Mesprit, fight her, fight Grovyle, who then steals the Time Gear Mesprit was guarding. They then flee together with Mesprit and finally end up at the guild again. Without Mesprit, because she stays with Uxie.

Notes:

Bonding time incoming yay

Alternative Chapter Titel: Local Bastard Man realizes he has emotions, decides to just keep on ignoring them in the hopes of them going away! Click to see what happens next!

“So, in conclusion,” Chatot finally gets to the end of this impossibly long briefing, “Finding out where Grovyle might be is of the highest importance, but even more important, is, that you are never, do you understand me? NEVER,” he is almost shouting now, “to challenge him on your own! That counts for all of you!”

And of course, he uses that moment to throw Darkrai a glance. Because what else would he do, really?

“Only ever approach him if there are at least two of you, and call for help with your badge before you do so! But do not fight him! Understood?”

A sound of agreement – rather hesitant – travels through the guild’s rows, prompting Chatot to bark, once again, “UNDERSTOOD?” This time the answer seems to be loud enough, so he nods and hops back two steps, to end up standing next to Wigglytuff.

“Thank you for warning them, Chatot,” Magnezone, today’s guest of the guild, takes over. Well, the guest beside Dusknoir, but he has almost installed himself as something of a member, by now.

“This criminal,” Magnezone then explains, “Is one of the most dangerous we have ever encountered. This means that we need to find out where he might strike next, to then use our full power against him. If you have come across any information related to this, let either me, my subordinates, or Chatot know!”

With a quick turn towards Wigglytuff, and a small bow, he then turns towards the ladder leading out of the guild, and after a “Thank you for your continued cooperation,” makes a quick exit. Huh. One could think that he actually had something else to do beside babysit Mesprit. Knowing her, she has started behaving as if she was hurt more seriously than she actually was, to let herself be treated like a queen by her brother. Uxie was always much too indulgent with her.

Darkrai shakes that thought off. It is not as if he actually cares about any of that.

“Now, I know you all said at the start of our briefing that none of you found anything new about any Time Gears, but has anything come to your minds by now?” Chatot inquires, after all of them watched Magnezone leave.

Uncomfortable silence is his answer.

Oh, of course Darkrai knows the location of not just one, but many Time Gears, but he is not about to share them. What use would it be to send a bumbling band of buffoons there, when they do not even know which of these Time Gears Grovyle might target next?

“Really? Nothing?” Chatot asks, desperation obvious in his voice. “None of you, beside Team Sky, found anything on your explorations?”

The silence is only interrupted by one or two coughs, and the noise of nervous shuffling of feet over ground.

Just when the silence becomes almost completely unbearable, Dusknoir points out, “There is, of course, the fact that Uxie and Mesprit have a third sibling. And I would wager that all three of them guard a Time Gear.”

“Oh yes, of course!” Chatot exclaims, and before he can work himself up more, Darkrai speaks up.

“His name is Azelf.” Did he want to share this knowledge? Of course not. But he cannot have Dusknoir seeming more knowledgeable. “And he does. Uxie told me,” he hurriedly adds, when some sceptical glances are thrown his way – glances that seem to ask ‘and for how long have you known that’?

“Did he also tell you where Azelf resides?” Chatot asks, cocking his head to the side.

Which is a bad question, because no, he did not. Darkrai has known for eons, so he did not have to be told when Uxie asked him to travel there. But if he admits to that, the whole guild will probably want to accompany him.

In the end, he will have to tell Chatot about it anyways, so better get it over with now, he decides.

“He did. And before you ask, yes, he requested me to search Azelf out, and no, he does not want the entire guild to go, or he would have asked you for it.”

“WHAT?!” Loudred shouts – who else, really? – and immediately, other voices pipe up.

“But why wouldn’t he?”

“Hey hey, are we not trustworthy enough?”

“You sure you can’t tell us?”

“Silence!” Chatot stares at the rowdy members, and fortunately manages to get them to quiet down.

Darkrai is just glad that they actually got over the ‘Darcy and Pearl were asked to go to Mesprit by Uxie, do not ask them where her Time Gear was, and also don’t be jealous’ already, during dinner yesterday.

“Just like the first time,” Dusknoir explains, “It is supposed to be a stealth mission. And unfortunately,” he sighs, making it sound like actual chagrin, “An entire guild, even of Pokémon as skilled as you, would just be too much.”

Well. The ghost may be many things – annoying, infuriating, a liar, manipulator – but he is proving himself as a surprisingly good ally. Darkrai still hates him, but… he can appreciate his usefulness, and his will to make life easier for Darkrai.

“Dusknoir is right,” Chatot admits, and then flutters his wings as he looks at Pearl and Darcy, “But I cannot allow just the two of you to go after Grovyle again!”

Darkrai barely keeps from rolling his eye. As has, unfortunately, become a habit ever since he started on this, by now, very annoying plan. “Might we discuss this entre nous?” he asks, making it sound much less like a question than a demand. This briefing has been going on for decidedly too long, his social skills for today have almost been used up completely. And it is still morning.

Chatot huffs. “Alright, alright. But know that you are not exempt from the rule of not engaging Grovyle on your own, Duskull!” he warns then, as if needing to make sure that the guild knows that he is still respected and all that.

“Of course,” Darkrai therefore ascertains, just too tired for more arguing. Or maybe not tired. Maybe he is just bidding his time, to only argue when it will actually give him results.

… No, he is definitely tired of all of this. And the promise of even more talking, even after the others are allowed to leave, is just… very annoying.

Maybe he can just… tune the rest of what is going to be said out. Yes. Yes, that sounds like a great idea. Really, he was being too nice the last few weeks, just listening to everything that was being said, even if it was of no importance whatsoever! And most of it fell into this category.

He could spend this time much more productively, surely.

For example, he could think about a way to deal with Chatot not wanting him to leave the guild. What is the problem about that, anyways? It is not as if it was Chatot who got hurt, so why should he care about what Darkrai does?

Ugh, thinking about the looming conversation is just annoying him as much as the briefing already did.

So maybe he will think about—

Oh. Seems like everyone is leaving. Well, except for Pearl, Chatot and, unfortunately, Dusknoir. At least Wigglytuff left, as well. He did mention that he wanted to visit Uxie and Mesprit, yesterday evening. He must have decided to do so, now. Suits Darkrai.

The moment the last Pokémon leaves the lowest floor of the guild, Chatot starts the argument just where they let it stop before.

“I cannot let you leave on your own, Duskull!” He erratically flutters his wings. “Both you and Pearl came back hurt, and from what I’ve heard, Mesprit was not off any better!”

“Which was her own fault,” he argues back, which, as Chatot once again flutters his wings, this time even faster, might not have been the best argument. Well, since they are explorers, probably they should have kept Mesprit safe, even if they had to lay their own lives down. Which Darkrai will not do.

Most likely, though, this is one of the reasons for Chatot being mad.

“You should have called for help before any fighting ever occurred!” he shouts, his wings now creating actual gusts of wind – not strong, but definitely noticeable.

“Called for help with what?” he shoots back, “Our badge? That was stolen alongside the bag!”

For a moment, there is an almost deathly silence, and then, Chatot explodes.

“You DID NOT have your badge with you?!”

Pearl, obviously just as clueless as Darkrai, carefully asks, “Is it really that bad?”

“That-, THAT BAD?! You are NEVER to explore, nor to LEAVE THE GUILD, without your badge!!”

“But we—”

“NO BUT! What if any of you had been hurt so much that you could not move?! How would you call for help?!”

Darkrai stares at Chatot. “We can call for help with—”

“DID YOU NOT LISTEN TO MY EXPLANATION WHEN I GAVE IT TO YOU?!”

“Of course I did!” Darkrai claims, not having done so, “You must’ve forgotten to explain it.”

“I-, I DID NOT forget!!” Chatot shouts back, “You DID NOT listen!”

“I most certainly did—”

“Please, can we just… Not shout? I’m sorry, Chatot, we didn’t realize it was that important for us to take the badge with us. And Darcy is also sorry! He just gets really defensive whenever he is!”

“I do not—”

“Darcy! Not now. Please.”

He almost insults her, then – who does she think she is, acting like she can tell him off, but then decides on just turning up his nose and crossing his arms. He will get revenge for this, later.

Chatot, one last time, flutters his wings, but then, with a deep breath, forcibly calms himself down. “Do you realize how stupid that was? You could’ve died, and none of us would have even known where your bodies were! You could still be lying somewhere, hurt, with none of us able to help you, because you could not call for help or get back to town!” And then, he shakes his head, accompanied by a deep sigh. “You can’t worry poor me like that!”

“We’re sorry,” Pearl says, looking every bit as chagrined as Chatot probably wants them to be, “We didn’t even notice that we did not have it with us, at first, because it’s always just been on our bag, and we never go anywhere without it.”

“What’s done is done, I always say,” Dusknoir enters into the conversation. “They made a mistake, and the only thing which can be done now is move on.”

“Yes, yes,” Chatot mumbles. “However, with the disaster that was you visiting Mesprit, and the missing badge, I cannot, in good conscience, let you go seek out Azelf.”

… What? Chatot thinks he can just deny them permission to move there?

“I assure you, last time’s failure was merely—”

“I do not want to hear it!” he interrupts, and Darkrai can feel murderous intent rise within him. What is it with everyone treating him like he is below them?! He thought he left that behind when—

He stops that thought right there. Instead, he just glares at Chatot. “So you want me to abandon Azelf to his likely… fate, once he meets Grovyle?”

“I want you to tell me where his lake is, so that some more experienced explorers can take care of it!”

“More-, Do you not think that Uxie would know who is best suited for the task?!”

“He is not part of our guild! He might have known you previously, but your skills as an explorer aren’t—”

“Everyone, please, I am sure that we can find a solution to this conundrum peacefully,” Dusknoir interrupts, his hands motioning for them to calm down. Well, just out of spite, Darkrai will now not calm down. But he will act as if he did. As an act of double-spite.

“Yes, yes, of course. You are right, Dusknoir. I’m sorry for getting so agitated, but the truth is, I really cannot send Duskull and Piplup on a mission where I must fear for their life, constantly.”

“But we cannot let Azelf be hurt, either,” Pearl throws in, her voice soft, her gaze directed at the ground.

“And we cannot let Grovyle steal another Time Gear,” Darkrai adds.

Dusknoir hums. “I understand, and I might have an idea to solve this situation then.”

All eyes are directed at him, and in a calm voice, the ghost continues.

“I can accompany the two of them. Our group would stay small and Azelf’s lake would not get compromised, and I could protect Pearl and Duskull, if it should ever become necessary. I swear, if I had to put my own life down to protect them, I would do so!”

“Please, don’t say such things, Dusknoir!” Chatot cries, the same moment that Pearl gasps out a “No, don’t!”

Darkrai, meanwhile, works on keeping back the laugh that wanted to break out of his chest the moment Dusknoir said it. The ghost is really laying it on think, and the worst thing is that everyone just loves to believe him! Besides, his idea to just insert himself into the group to seek out Grovyle with an ally by his side…

Well. Darkrai is not happy about it, but if it is what it takes to make Chatot allow them to officially visit Azelf, then so be it. And since Dusknoir probably already knows the location of Azelf’s lake anyways, it does not matter if they have to take him along.

“Don’t worry,” Dusknoir laughs, moving his hands up and down, their palms pointed towards the floor – probably a calming motion. “I do not plan on doing so! I just wanted to convey to you how serious about this I am, and I guess we Ghost Types tend to speak about death more freely. Please, don’t worry.”

Both Pearl and Chatot breath out theatrically at that.

“My poor heart really can’t take much more of all of this today,” Chatot then says, and finally, finally says the words Darkrai so very much wanted to hear. “But I guess… If it is you three travelling together, I will allow it. But only,” and now, he turns to Darkrai, “Once you tell me where you are going, exactly. I will not spread the knowledge of it to anyone else, I assure you. And you will only leave after I give you a replacement-badge.”

It is now Darkrai’s turn to sigh. “Alright. Uxie… will most likely be agreeable with that, as well.”

Or maybe he won’t. It is not as if Darkrai is in the mood to ask him, so Uxie will just have to accept it as it comes. No reason for just Darkrai to suffer.

And then, finally, they are allowed to leave.

 

They move out of town a little before noon. The briefing was quite long; and packing, as well as restocking, for their travel, claimed more time than usual. Especially since they need to take more with them than for the travel to Mesprit – because for one, they are now a bigger group, and also because Azelf’s lake is hidden a little further from Treasure Town than Mesprit’s. Most likely, they will need a day and a half to reach it, if not two.

It could be a pleasant travel, if they did not need to take Dusknoir with them. Because he is…

Well…

Dusknoir is not a bad travel companion. At all. He had offered to carry Darkrai’s bag – citing his stronger build; had made small talk, but not in an unpleasant or even forced way; and had never questioned Darkrai on where he was leading them. He even fell silent when he noticed Darkrai getting annoyed at all the talk, something almost no one else has done before!

But that is just the thing, is it not? Darkrai knows that all of this is a lie, and knowing that it exists, yet still not being truly able to see through it… It is infuriating. Allies or not, Dusknoir annoys him, and there are few things Darkrai would rather do then force him to take that mask off, speak to the cruel being that he truly is. Then, at least, their conversations would be much more fun.

And of course, Darkrai might lie, too. But at least he does not hide almost all of his true personality!

A quiet voice in the back of his head keeps telling him that his hate for Dusknoir is mostly unwarranted, and only born out of fea—

But before it can end its sentence, he forces it back down to whatever dark pits of his soul it came from. It can stay silent, for now. Forever, preferably.

“Should we look for a place to rest for the night?” Dusknoir asks suddenly, making Darkrai almost jump. He was not expecting him to talk for some more time.

But the question is a valid one – the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon some minutes ago, and its light is now abandoning them rapidly. For now, only the evening star can be seen, but soon, the first actual stars will start blinking into life.

Wandering on would be no problem for Dusknoir and Darkrai, most likely, but Pearl…

“That would be great,” Pearl answers before Darkrai has the chance to.

He can feel Dusknoir’s gaze, waiting for his answer, too – and once again, he is just so considerate – and so, he nods. “It might be for the best.”

They were currently making their way around the Amp Plains, and would most likely leave them behind in maybe one or two more hours.

Looking around the area, he notices what might be good shelter for the night, just a few minutes’ walk away. It is a cave – overhang, really – on the foot of one of many outer reaches of the Plains, and he is just about to point it out when he remembers that he told Pearl that he dislikes the Amp Plains, did he not?

Darn it.

And so, he lets his gaze wander to the other side, where a small forest grows. It does not… instil a lot of trust. Too many places for others to hide, too many chances for them to be attacked.

Well, seems like it is time for him to make a selfless sacrifice.

“As much as it pains me to say so,” he starts, “The little cave there,” he points in its direction, “Might be the best place to stay for the night.”

“Do you not like caves?” Dusknoir asks, and Pearl stares at him, first in confusion, and then her eyes widen the moment she seems to remember what he told her… it seems so long ago, when it was anything but.

“I’m sure we can find another place!” she hurries to assure him, “I mean, we can all walk a little longer, right?”

Darkrai makes a show of sighing theatrically. “Of course, but the Amp Plains stretch on for over an hour. It will be alright, Pearl, I will simply keep watch.”

“But you need to sleep!”

He hums. “No, not really. I got plenty of sleep tonight, and can certainly go one day without.”

“No you can’t,” she responds, putting her flippers on her hips. Or where they would be, if she was still a human.

“If I may share my own experience, but Ghost Types typically do not need as much sleep as most other types,” Dusknoir adds his experience, and that, visibly, makes Pearl reconsider.

After very obviously internally debating with herself, she finally speaks up again. “Well, you two should still get at least a little sleep! ‘Not as much sleep’ is not the same as ‘no sleep’. And besides, that’s not what this is about, it’s about us not needing to stay in that cave!”

“Pearl,” Darkrai calls to her, “I told you, it will be alright. Do believe me on that, yes?”

And that, finally, makes her sigh in defeat. “Okay. But only because you insist.” And so, they begin their way towards it.

They reach it in barely five minutes, and by now, the sky has considerably darkened – first their little argument, and now the walk there needed some time.

Once they are done setting up their small camp – really, they just put their blankets on the ground and that’s it – they sit down.

For what, Darkrai is not quite sure, but since there is no talk, he does not care. Instead, he positions himself so that he can watch the stars appear on the sky. He can only see a part of it, of course, thanks to the overhang, but that part is enough to put him at ease.

“The stars sure are beautiful, are they not?” Dusknoir suddenly says into the comfortable silence, and he sounds almost… wistful. And for once, Darkrai is sure that, at this very moment, for this very statement, he did not have to put on any mask at all.

“They really are,” Pearl says, and in a yearning tone continues, “Sometimes I wish I could maybe travel there, see how they look up close… They are already so beautiful from far away, they must be even more so when you can touch them.”

“You would burn to death before you could even get close enough for that,” Darkrai says, not looking at her.

“Burn?” she gasps, and he hears her turn her head.

“Yes?” Darkrai asks back, just the tiniest bit confused. She was just being… poetic or something, right? That was why he wanted to ruin the moment.

“But why would you burn?” she asks, and the confusion in her voice is honest.

Darkrai stares at her, and then at Dusknoir. Who looks just as clueless. Don’t tell him…

“You do know what stars are, do you not?”

“Little glowing points in the sky?” Pearl asks back, and Dusknoir scratches his head as he admits, “I must admit, even though I have extensive knowledge on all things that have to do with exploring, I’ve never really thought about the nature of stars at length.”

For some moments, Darkrai can only stare at them, and then he realizes that both of them must have grown up without any stars to see. “Uneducated whippersnappers,” he murmurs under his breath, but judging by the gazes he gets, he was not quiet enough.

“Well, why don’t you tell us what they are, then, Mister Grandpa?” Pearl asks, mocking obvious in her voice. “If you even know.”

In a deadpan voice, Darkrai answers. “Scorching balls of gas, to put it simply. But maybe it might help you more if I tell you that the sun is actually a star, and we are just particularly close to it, so it seems bigger.”

Silence, and then—

“It is?!”

“The sun is a star?”

“Wait, does that mean—” Pearl interrupts herself with a gasp, and then stares at the sky with amazement clear in her eyes, “That’s… all of those are also suns?!”

Darkrai nods. “Exactly. Well, most of them, not all. Some of the lights in the sky which we see are planets.”

There’s a breath of what Darkrai would interpret to be amazement, and then, for some time, both Pearl and Dusknoir fall silent, just staring at the sky.

“Are… do all suns also have a planet?” Pearl finally asks, tentatively, looking at Darkrai again.

Darkrai shrugs. “How should I know? There are too many stars to even count. But I believe that many must have at least one, if not more.”

“More?”

“Yes. More. Don’t tell me—” He groans at the realization. “You actually do not know that our planet is part of a system of multiple planets, all circling the same sun, do you?”

Her wide eyes tell him the answer to that.

“I always thought,” Dusknoir speaks up, “That… there is only this one planet, and no--, only this one sun.”

Darkrai shrugs. “Does it matter, in the end? None of us have a way to visit any other planets or stars. Well, some Pokémon might, but for us… there is no way to reach them.”

“Some Pokémon?” Dusknoir asks, and Pearl adds, “Maybe like Legendaries?” Both then look at him expectantly. When did this turn into a lesson, again?

Darkrai nods. “Exactly. I am sure there must be some Legendary out there who has the ability to travel between planets.” He knows, to be exact, but that would be admitting too much. Most of the extremely powerful Legendaries have ways to do so, but as far as he knows, they don’t bother. After all, what reason would there be for it?

And then, silence falls between them, again. Maybe his answers exhausted him. Maybe they are tired. Who knows? Darkrai likes the silence, in any way.

“So… if there’s multiple suns, who have multiple planets… are there, maybe, Pokémon on all these other planets, too?”

“How should I know, Pearl? I have not ever left this planet.”

“But, I mean, if there’s Pokémon here, and since you know so much—”

“I know more than you about the night sky. That does not mean that I know everything,” he interrupts, and then realizes what he just said. He harrumphs. “I still know quite a lot, mind you.”

Pearl lets out a giggle, at that. How insulting. As if he made a joke.

“Ah, excuse my question, perhaps it is a little odd,” Dusknoir suddenly speaks up, and for once, he sounds genuinely curious, “But do you happen to know anything about star constellations? I must admit, I am quite… bad at navigating the night sky.”

If Darkrai were anyone else, and was not aware where Dusknoir is actually from, this question would most likely baffle him. Almost every Pokémon in this world of the past knows at least a few constellations, after all, but if Darkrai is correct in his assumption, Dusknoir doesn’t even know where the polar star is situated.

And neither does Pearl.

He suppresses a sigh. So much about sleep tonight.

“Of course I know,” he scoffs. “For example, if you look straight ahead, the brightest star you see – you know which one I mean, correct?” Two nods, accompanied by hums, are his answer. “Right, and if you look at the star above it – the bright one, and the one to the right, which is less bright,…”

 

The next morning, Darkrai wakes later than usual – the sun has already risen. Well. It should be no surprise, he stayed awake longer than he initially wanted to. They all did. Who could have guessed that both Pearl and Dusknoir would be so utterly fascinated by his descriptions of constellations and their stories?

And so, he had spent hours talking, until the sky had moved so much that new constellations had appeared, and the one’s he had told them about had gone out of sigh. When he had felt midnight not just approaching, but also passing, he had finally told them that it was enough, for tonight. And then, he had taken the first watch, and after…

Well, obviously he slept for longer than intended. No matter. Azelf will still be alive, tomorrow. Hopefully.

(There’s a tight knot in his chest at the mere idea of Azelf not being… alive when they reach him, but he ignores it. Everything will be alright when they get to him, so there is no need to worry. Not that he has any reason to do so for Azelf.)

Dusknoir seems to be awake already, judging from the rustling noises Darkrai can hear from his direction. Which makes sense, since he took the last night watch. Pearl, meanwhile, is still comfortably snoring to herself, and instead of engaging Dusknoir in conversation, Darkrai starts on waking her.

Soon, she is awake – not happily so, but she is – and after packing their things, they once again continue on their walk towards the Crystal Cave.

Again, their travels are comfortable, and Darkrai, just like yesterday, really loathes that fact. How can Dusknoir just… stay in his role so well? Although…

Darkrai does notice that he is loosening up just the tiniest bit. Perhaps because he sees Darkrai as an ally, or perhaps because he has already spent quite some time around both him and Pearl. Oh, he does not show his cruelty or coldness, of course, but there is certainly more character to him than the simple ‘helpful explorer’ he plays in Treasure Town.

Or maybe it is the weather – it is quite a nice day today, putting all of them in a better mood. Or maybe just Darkrai. There is a light covering of clouds on the sky – enough to get rid of the intense sun, but not enough to entirely block it out. Instead, it gives the  world diffused light, and the sun itself is a pale yellow disk behind the clouds.

“So, Dusknoir, do you have a favourite colour?”

“A favourite… colour?”

“Yeah! Apparently, that’s a question you ask Pokémon you don’t know too well, yet. At least Darcy asked me when we first met. It was very awkward.”

Darkrai rolls his eye. “Yes, well, your answers were awkward as well.” It is not his fault that the common ways of getting to know others are so stupid.

“Not my fault! Anyways, so, what is it, Dusknoir?”

“I guess… black?”

“Ugh, how boring, Darcy said the same thing. Is this just a Ghost Type thing or what?”

Darkrai helplessly looks at the only actual ghost here, who merely shrugs. “It might be, I have never before asked anyone else this question.”

“Well, alright. Next question! Do you have any siblings, like Uxie?” Pearl seems truly interested, and Darkrai will admit, he is, too. After all, the nightmare of Dusknoir he created did seem to imply…

A helpless laugh escapes Dusknoir, but beneath it, Darkrai can just tell that another emotion is simmering. He is not quite sure which one, though. “I’d rather not talk about that, alright?”

Pearl backtracks immediately. “Yeah, no problem! Sorry if this was inconsiderate.”

“Being interested in something is no crime, don’t worry. But do you have any siblings, Pearl?”

“I… uh… It’s complicated?”

“How about we simply do not talk about the topic of siblings?” Darkrai comes to her aid immediately. This is something he had noticed the last day, and even before that – Pearl is quite reluctant to tell Dusknoir of her memory loss, something that Darkrai is pleased to note. Normally, when it is just the two of them, mentioning it does not seem to make her uncomfortable, but whenever a third Pokémon is around – and that, clearly, also includes Dusknoir, no matter how much she might like him.

She must have acquired this caution over the last few months, since she most definitely did not show it when he first met her.

“Great idea!” Pearl readily agrees. “Instead, we could talk about, uh… favourite food?”

“Favourite… food?” Dusknoir seems actually quite confused, now.

“Yeah. Darcy also asked me that.”

“I did not.” And then, he hesitates. “… Did I?”

“You did. And you actually never told me what you like best, now that I think about it.”

“Well, it is not like it is important.”

“Then why did you ask me in the first place?!”

“For what it matters,” Dusknoir interrupts their little argument, “I quite like mushrooms.”

“Oh, mushrooms are great!” Pearl readily agrees, “And asparagus. I really like asparagus.”

Dusknoir nods wisely. “Yes, that is also a great food. What about you, Duskull?”

“I… do not really have a preference. Whatever I can get, I guess?” He shrugs. He never thought about this at length. Food is a necessity, but nothing to indulge in.

“What kinda answer is that?” Pearl stares at him in… disbelief? Anger?

“I travelled quite a lot before I settled down in Treasure Town,” he explains – to calm Pearl, and also to create a backstory for Dusknoir to believe, “And when you spend most of your days on the road, you cannot afford to be too picky with your food.”

“I guess,” she says, shaking her head, visibly disagreeing with his statement. Then, she thinks. “Any other questions to ask? Oh, what’s your favourite thing to do? Besides exploring!”

Dusknoir hums and falls silent for some time. Just when Darkrai thinks that he has deigned not to answer, he does so. “Learning new things, I would say. Maybe that is also why I love exploring so much.”

“That’s… really cool. I wish I knew as much about exploring as you do, to be honest. And that I could be stronger, too!”

“You are still young,” Dusknoir tells her, and there is something almost like a smile appearing on his face. Eye. “Don’t worry too much about this, now. Enjoy your time, now, and steadily improve, and I am sure one day you will also be a venerated explorer.”

There are stars in Pearl’s eyes as she stares at Dusknoir, and Darkrai just remembered why he hates the other so much. That he could just… make it sound so genuine! Bah!

“What do you two enjoy doing? I heard some… rumours in town about relentless pranks, but surely, you would not…?”

Pearl shares a look with Darkrai and then starts laughing. “Okay, so, in our defence, everyone who got pranked absolutely deserved it!”

“Besides,” Darkrai adds, “Pranking is like an easier form of scheming, and one must always practice doing so.”

“Practice it? For what?” Dusknoir sounds clueless, but the gaze he throws Darkrai seems to carry just the slightest hint of conspiracy.

“Uh…” Pearl starts and then trails off. She stares at one of the trees at the path’s side, as if it would hold any answers. “I guess… Okay, please don’t tell Chatot I said that, but sometimes he can be pretty…. narrow-minded. And for example, then you have to scheme, to get around that?”

Dusknoir laughs at that, and there is no hint of anything beneath it. Darn his professional acting skills. “That does make a lot of sense!”

Pearl then continues. “And on my own… I really like swimming! Although I don’t get the chance to do it often.”

Huh. Darkrai… did not know that.

Dusknoir, meanwhile, nods. “That does make sense, with you being a Water Type. Do you have any favourite things to do, besides exploring, Duskull?”

And now two expectant glances are directed at him. Just great. How lucky for him that during all of these months, there was a lie he had to come back to so often that he can now use it instead of saying ‘Oh, you know, during the week I like to spread dissonance, and on weekends I like trying to create a world of darkness, if I’m not busy trying to make Cresselia’s life as complicated as possible.’

“I quite enjoy studying Legendaries and everything that has to do with them,” he tells them.

Pearl makes an ‘ooh’-sound at that, and then explains, “You did mention that a few times before, yeah!”

Dusknoir has another thing to add to Darkrai’s lie, unfortunately. “Is this how you first met Uxie? Your interest led you to searching him out?”

“It is… more complicated than that,” Darkrai hurries to answer – darn it, that’s a bad question, what with Pearls continued interest about this topic. Wait. Did she put Dusknoir up to asking that? Nosy little quidnunc. “And I would rather not go into the details, for Uxie’s sake.” Then, he decides to give them at least something, maybe it will silence them. “But yes, my interest did play a role in it.”

“Ah, how interesting,” Dusknoir says, having the gall to actually sound interested.

“Alright, next question,” Pearl then takes over, “What’s your favourite…”

 

 

“There must be a hidden entrance here, correct?” Dusknoir asks, looking at Darkrai.

He nods. “Indeed. I must admit, I do not quite remember how to solve this puzzle, but I am quite sure that we will be able to figure it out, anyways.”

The other two nod, and Pearl chirps, “I mean, we’ve already solved so many riddles, what’s one more?”

Indeed, what is one more? Darkrai stares at the crystals in front of him. There are many, of course – the Dungeon at which’s end they found themselves is not dubbed ‘Crystal Cave’ for no reason – but three stand out not just in size, but also in colour. They are arranged in the shape of a triangle, with maybe three or four metres between each. And while most crystals in this cave are of the same bluish hue, these three have completely different colours.

“I do remember that these three crystals change colour when touched, and that, once they are the desired combination, an entrance will appear in their centre,” he thinks out loud, “But I am not sure which colour – or colours – they are supposed to be. Perhaps those corresponding to the three Lake Guardians? Or since they are guarding the Time Gears, a colour relating to Dialga?”

In thought, he floats up to one of the Crystals, and puts his hand against it. Its colour changes from yellow to blue.

“How interesting,” Dusknoir says, floating up to another of the crystals, and touches it too. It sheds its previous purple to instead become orange, and as he touches it a second time, it becomes yellow.

“So…” Pearl says, walking up to the last crystal, “If it is Uxie, Mesprit and Azelf, the colours should be yellow, pink and… uh…” she trails off.

“Blue,” Darkrai helps out.

“Right, okay, blue. So, you think it should be these three?” She touches the crystal, making it change from… Darkrai’s not sure, actually. Green to red, perhaps, he’d say from experience. And the next moment, she gasps and grasps her head, almost sinking down unto the ground.

“Is everything alright…?” Dusknoir’s baffled voice calls, but Darkrai ignores him as he hurries to Pearl’s side.

And then, he stops short, not knowing how to proceed. Is this a…?

“Pearl, can you hear me?” he tentatively asks, but seeing as no answer is spoken, it tells him that, no, apparently not. Instead, she grabs her head even harder, and Darkrai is floundering, with no idea what to do. This… Could it be that she is seeing the future, once again? It had been some time since it last happened, and even then he never quite knew how to react to it.

And then, suddenly, she lets out a groan and collapses to the floor, where she lands in an awkward sitting position. After that, she takes a loud breath, and then, there’s a quiet, “… Darcy?”

“I am here,” he answers promptly, for which he is rewarded with a tired smile, as she looks up at him.

“Ah, that’s… great,” she says, and then, carefully, moves to stand up again. For a moment, he feels as if he should reach out and help her up, but luckily, that thought is gone as fast as it appeared.

“Don’t think I’ve ever had one that hurt just so much before.”

“So you saw—?”

“Heard, actually. It’s… strange, that’s only happened once before.”

Darkrai hums, thinking. “Do you need water?”

“That’d be great. Thanks.” Thankfully, she takes the offered flask and… empties it in one go. Well. Darkrai is sure that once they reach Azelf’s lake, he will be able to refill it. Probably.

“Are you alright?” Dusknoir suddenly speaks up from right behind Darkrai, making him jump in—

Not surprise. Most definitely not surprise.

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry!” Pearl says, a laugh escaping her that Darkrai can tell is not entirely honest. It should still fool Dusknoir, though.

“I just sometimes get these dizzy spells at the most random of times!”

“Dizzy spells, huh? Please don’t think that I am accusing you of anything, but… these dizzy spells wouldn’t be related to seeing snippets of the future, would they?”

Darn it! Pearl was so careful in not telling Dusknoir, for some reason, but her widening eyes are a very clear answer.

“So they are!” Dusknoir exclaims, and Darkrai can already see the cogs in his head turning.

“I-, I mean, I just get dizzy, there’s nothing else…”

“Please, don’t worry!” Dusknoir immediately tries to calm her, and darn it, because of Darkrai allying himself with Dusknoir, he can’t even act overprotective towards Pearl now, to stop the ghost from drawing unwanted conclusions. He should have never started that plan, if only because it is infuriating to have to act friendly towards Dusknoir. “I just knew someone with a similar ability, and so I could draw the conclusion easily. Judging by your reaction, I assume you want to keep it secret?”

Pearl gulps so loud that even Darkrai can hear it from where he stands, and then sighs heavily. “I… Yeah, I’d rather not everyone know about it.” She looks at Darkrai, and then at Dusknoir, her eyes narrowing. “Until now, only Darcy has known so… If suddenly, the whole town knows, there will be no question as to who told.”

Dusknoir laughs good-naturedly. “Really, do not worry! I just got curious.”

And then, for the barest moment, Darkrai can almost feel hate coming from him. But…

Oh. Oh no.

He might have had just the slightest suspicion until now, but with not just Pearl’s name, but also her ability revealed, he must have realized that she might—

“So, what did you see?” Dusknoir suddenly asks, as if it is any of his business.

“I, uh…” Pearl starts, and then trails off, very obviously uncomfortable. Even Darkrai can tell that. “Well, I didn’t actually see anything? I just heard… talking. Something about the colour of Azelf’s spirit, whatever that means? Oh, and someone said that the colours should be the same!”

“That… is actually quite helpful,” Darkrai says, almost impressed by her vision. “Now we won’t have to try however many colour combinations would be possible with these crystals.”

“Indeed,” Dusknoir agrees, and then hums, “Say, Duskull, we were just talking about the colours of the three Legendaries, what colour did you say Azelf was again?”

“Blue,” Darkrai answers, “Mostly blue. Although his eyes are yellow, like his siblings’. Or Mesprit’s at least, I have not ever seen Uxie’s eyes and also do not wish to do so. And the crystals on him are red. So honestly, it could be either of those colours.”

“Well, that’s just three colours, though!” Pearl says, a grin on her face. “Can’t be too difficult to try each of those.”

“Yes. You are quite right,” Darkrai agrees easily. He stares at the three crystals. Currently, they are blue, yellow and… red. Or green. He’d wager it is red. Which is, incidentally, the three colours which could pertain to Azelf. “At least the answer does not seem to be each of the colours,” he says, looking back at the others.

“So…” Pearl starts, “Which colour should we start with?”

Dusknoir speaks up again. “Maybe yellow? It is said that eyes are a window to the soul, so perhaps, that was meant by Azelf’s spirit from the speaker in your vision?”

Pearl nods, and even Darkrai has to agree with that reasoning. Leave it to the Lake Guardians to make the answer something so positively cliché. Without any more words spoken, they split up naturally, each going to the crystal they first touched, to change its colour accordingly.

Darkrai, unfortunately, ends up having to try the longest for yellow to appear again – the crystal first cycles from blue to… red/green, then to a colour which looks mostly the same as the previous one, after that becoming a blueish hue which Darkrai knows to be purple, until it finally becomes the yellow-ish hue he knows to be orange. And only after that does it finally become yellow again.

He turns towards the centre, waiting for the entrance to rise – it is hidden in a giant crystal, because Azelf is just much too partial to crystals.

Nothing happens.

“So, uh… maybe it’s not Azelf’s eye colour?” Pearl tentatively asks.

Dusknoir nods. “It must be something else. Red or blue was it, yes?”

Darkrai nods. “Let us just try blue, next. It is the next colour which these crystals should change into, anyways.”

And that they do.

The moment Pearl’s crystal – the last one – changes colour, a tremor wracks the cave, and Darkrai steps back instinctively. He can only hope for the others that they did the same. As the ground rumbles even more, electricity seems to pass between the tips of the crystals, and with some more rumbling, a gigantic mountain made of crystals, the same hue as all the surrounding ones, rises between the three coloured ones. Which seem to have taken on the exact same colour. How monochrome.

Really, why did each of the Lake Guardians have to create the entries to their lakes so… illogically?

Finally, the rumbling stops, and before them, the entry to the lower dungeon opens. Darkrai looks towards Pearl, who is currently standing up – she must have fallen while the earth was shaking. Dusknoir, meanwhile, ended up on the wrong side of the crystal, not facing its opening. Hah. That minor inconvenience serves him right for simply existing.

Unfortunately, he just floats around it, as if this minor inconvenience is not inconveniencing him at all.

“That… is certainly an entry,” the ghost then says, staring at it.

Pearl, meanwhile, looks at Darcy. “Are all Legendaries that extra with their entries? First the plateau, then jumping into literal quick sand and now… this. ”

Darkrai shrugs. “I have not met enough to tell. But it does seem to be an ongoing theme, does it not? Instead of pondering this question, let us just continue into the next Dungeon.”

“Of course,” Dusknoir nods.

And on they go.

 

Alright, so the good thing about going Dungeon exploring with Dusknoir is that the ghost is strong. Like. Unnaturally strong. Now, Darkrai would not bet money on it, but he thinks that if, for some reason, Dusknoir found himself up against a Legendary with the power of say… Dialga or someone similar, he might actually have a chance. Not a chance to win, necessarily, but most certainly a chance to impress the other with his fighting prowess so much that the Legendary would just decide to end the fight before either of them got knocked out.

And against someone like Cresselia, he would – and Darkrai would actually bet on that, if he were into betting – most definitely win.

So, really, maybe Darkrai was actually correct in entering an alliance with Dusknoir, if only so he would not have to fight him. Because if he had to keep the illusion alive during the fight and could not use Dark Void…

Well.

Suddenly, Grovyle’s strength makes a lot more sense. If he was just the tiniest bit weaker, Dusknoir would not have failed in catching him until now.

And since Dusknoir also insists on leading their little party, he is the one dealing with most feral Pokémon. Which means that Darkrai can basically just lean back and enjoy the scenery.

It is just too bad that the crystals from here are basically worth nothing, since there is a much too high amount, or he would even make a fortune without actually having to fight for it.

“Hey, Dusknoir?” Pearl suddenly asks, from where she is walking just behind him – Darkrai had been chosen to take on rear duty.

“Yes?” the ghost answers, inclining his head just the slightest bit, to show that he is listening.

“Before, you said that you know someone with the same ability as I, and I kinda… wanted to ask if you know anything more about it? Because I only know that I sometimes get it when touching things, and that it can be visual or, uh…”

“Auditory,” Darkrai fills in for her, his interest actually piqued. He has been wondering about Pearl’s ability, as well, and now that he thinks about it, Dusknoir might actually know something.

“Yeah, that. And that I sometimes see the future, and sometimes the past, I guess. But besides that, I really don’t know anything.”

Dusknoir hums. “I do, indeed, know some more about it. Now, everything I can tell you is second-hand, of course, and my acquaintance is… not around anymore, to be asked.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You did not. Anyways, as far as I know, it is called the Dimensional Scream, and I always thought it is a learnt ability. But since you know so few things about it, I guess you were either born with it, or it just appeared randomly?” The question is clear in his sentence, even if, grammatically, it is hidden.

“I… Uh…” Pearl hesitates, once again unwilling to let Dusknoir know of her amnesia. The thing is just… What else to tell him?

“It is complicated,” Darkrai jumps in, before Pearl can risk her neck with careless talk, “And going into the specifics would take too long. Maybe she can elaborate at another time.”

Pearl shoots him a grateful smile, and then turns towards Dusknoir again, who has now turned around to face them, after a careful look around the room in the Dungeon they are currently in, making sure that it is empty.

“Yeah, what Darcy said! Sorry,” she laughs, nervously. “But it’s called Dimensional Scream? Why?”

Dusknoir shrugs. “I must admit, that, I do not know. I assume that it is called that because sounds and images slice across the boundaries of time and objects, until they reach just one Pokémon.”

“And I guess it does seem kinda all-consuming, whenever I have it,” Pearl admits, putting one of her flippers against her chin while she holds the rest of her arm with the other one. “Like a scream, huh?”

“That could indeed be the reason for its name. I do apologize, though – that is all that I know about this extraordinary ability.”

“I mean, that’s already something! At least now we have a name for it!” She grins.

“And we have gathered that there might be others who possess it,” Darkrai adds, fully knowing that Dusknoir’s mysterious acquaintance and Pearl must be the same person.

“Yeah!” Pearl agrees, a smile on her face. “Oh, and maybe we could ask Uxie about it, now that I think about it!” she suddenly exclaims, and actually—

“You are right,” Darkrai admits, “If anyone might know something… it should be him.”

Pearl’s smile grows. “That’s great! Maybe, once we learn more about it, we could also learn more about—” She stops abruptly, and with a slight stammer, continues, “about, uh, y-you know what.”

Darkrai nods, ignoring Dusknoir’s clueless mien. No reason for him to know. No reason at all.

“Now, with that cleared up,” he then declares, before Dusknoir has the chance to ask, “Let us continue, yes?”

And that, they do.

 

They must have taken a wrong set of stairs somewhere, because they emerge from the Dungeon at one of the far-off sides of the Lake. Darkrai clearly remembers exiting just where the small path leading to the middle island is situated, then last time he was here, but alas, now they will have to make their way around the lake instead. At least it gives everyone time to appreciate the lake before they happen upon Azelf.

In many ways, it is quite similar to Mesprit’s underground lake – stalactites and stalagnates grow all over the ceiling and some even seem to grow out of the lake. There is a little more light than in Mesprite’s cave, since the numerous crystals growing absolutely everywhere give off the slightest blue glow. And of course, in the middle of the lake, the glow of a Time Gear can be seen.

Also in the middle of it is a small island, connected to the surrounding ground by a narrow path. Is it still an island, then? Or a peninsula?

“Oh wow,” Pearl breathes the moment she can see the lake – with her small size, finding a place where crystals don’t block her sight must be quite the challenge. “No offense to Uxie and Mesprit, but I think this lake might actually be my favourite.”

Darkrai nods. “It is quite nice. Especially since there is no sand.”

In response, Pearl hisses, as if feral, and then states, “I hate sand. It gets everywhere.”

“Is there… a story there?” Dusknoir is ever curious, and just because he was so helpful in the Dungeon, Darkrai decides to indulge him.

He starts walking again, as he explains, and the others follow. “Mesprit’s lake is beneath the Quicksand Pits, behind a Dungeon which is filled to the brim with sand, and is also completely surrounded by sand. To even get there, you need to jump into said pits. Do you need to know more?”

Dusknoir shakes his head as he lets out a little laugh. “I do not think so, no. “ Then, he changes the topic. “The light in the middle of the lake, is that…?”

“Yeah, that’s the Time Gear!” Pearl jumps to answer, and squinting her eyes to probably see some more, she adds, “Seems like Grovyle hasn’t gotten here, yet.”

“Fortunately for us. And since Azelf is not quite so brash as Mesprit, maybe we will actually succeed in convincing him to—”

He is interrupted by a loud scream, coming from… the island in the middle of the lake. Peninsula? It does not matter, right now, because that scream was most definitely, “Azelf,” he breathes out, so that the others know as well, “That was Azelf.”

And before any of them can answer, he has started to make his way around the lake, to get to the island. He cares not for Azelf, of course, but it sounded like he was in immense pain, because he knows Azelf, and Azelf does not scream unless… unless…

And as a fellow Legendary, Darkrai is almost obligated to look out for the other, to keep him safe if he can, no matter their personal history. Besides, he is pretending to be on Uxie’s side, he needs to keep Azelf as save as possible, if he wants to do so.

And so, he hurries – maybe he even runs – towards where the scream came from.

He can hear Pearl’s pitter-patter of feet behind him, and Dusknoir actually manages to overtake him just when they reach the path leading up to the peninsula.

Just as Darkrai feared, he can see Grovyle at its end, and Azelf barely holding himself floating above the water – it seems like he came up with a similar tactic as Darkrai for fighting Grovyle. But judging by his scream…

Grovyle has his back towards them and is slowly approaching Azelf, but before either Darkrai or any of the other two can get close enough to him to attack from behind, the ground suddenly starts to tremble, and then outright shake. There is a loud sound, almost like groaning, but… but that does not make any sense! The Time Gear is still safely in the lake, there should be no reason for any of this!

For a moment, Darkrai has to stop in his tracks, to simply regain his balance, and next to him he can see Dusknoir and Pearl doing the same. They—

They need to flee. Right now. Whyever this is happening, it can’t be good.

Darkrai is about to turn around, when seemingly out of nowhere, crystals start sprouting from the lake. They engulf it completely in a matter of seconds, leaving no more water visible, instead turning the entire lake into a sea of crystals. Even Grovyle stumbles back a few steps, and Azelf only narrowly avoids getting skewered by one rapidly growing crystal beneath him.

This...

This is incredible.

How did Azelf – and Darkrai is sure that it must have been Azelf – manage to…

“You’ll only… get the Time Gear at the… cost of my life…!” said Legendary forces out, then, and what an idiot! Why do he and his sister have to be so very, very stupid?

“Then… so be it!” Grovyle shouts, moving to attack Azelf, and that is when Darkrai intercepts his attack with an attack of his own – Dark Pulse into his back, to be exact. He almost manages to hit Dusknoir with it, too, after the other moves forward unexpectedly, but luckily, Dusknoir is quick enough to evade it.

Grovyle, not being able to see behind himself, is not so lucky, and instead stumbles forward.

The next moment, he twists around, a growl escaping from his throat. “You again,” he hisses, staring Darkrai directly into the eye – and oops, does he now think that they no longer have an alliance? That would be… sub-optimal. But he must realize that Darkrai has to act as if they are on opposing sides, surely – but the next moment, his gaze is drawn to where Dusknoir floats, and that actually makes him snarl.

“You!” The change in his behaviour is glaring – he scrunches his shoulders up, and his position, before much more aggressive, immediately changes to defensive.

“Me!” Dusknoir responds in kind, the hate for once not hidden from his voice.

“Couldn’t just leave me alone, huh?!” He’s growling each word so much, Darkrai actually has trouble making them out.

“I would never, Grovyle!”

“You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that, you pest!”

“And you are infuriating, you apostate!”

“Apo-what?” Pearl whispers at Darkrai, while Grovyle actually huffs out a laugh at that.

“Look at who’s talking, you coward!”

… Are they really just going to insult each other? Is this really what they want to spend their time doing?

Well. Suits him. As the two of them continue to insult each other, raising the stakes with each angry comment – and Darkrai is really not happy with some of the words they have started to use, especially Grovyle – he carefully sneaks around them, towards Azelf.

Azelf, who, now that Darkrai can see him up close, is in a very, very bad shape – not only is a bruise forming around one of his eyes, no, blood is also running from it like tears. He cradles his left arm with his right – it might be broken? and there is a kink in one of his tails that Darkrai knows fully well he did not have before. Maybe it is broken, as well.

As Grovyle and Dusknoir continue to hurl verbal abuse at each other, Darkrai manages to fully make his way towards Azelf – and it seems as if Pearl had the same idea, because she found her way towards them, as well.

“You…” Azelf whispers, and Darkrai is not quite sure whether that is because he does not want to draw Dusknoir and Grovyle’s attention, or because his strength is leaving him.

Darkrai decides to spare him the trouble of having to speak. “Uxie sent us, to check up on you. It seems we were a little… late.”

“Darcy!” Pearl hisses, then, “Just give him an Oran Berry or something!”

He rolls his eye. “That won’t help with broken bones.”

“Darcy!” she cries again and—

Grovyle turns half-way around, to probably look at those who managed to get around him. He must be feeling quite threatened.

“You are surrounded, Grovyle!” Dusknoir then laughs, once again drawing Grovyle’s gaze. Grovyle, who is carefully stepping to the side, most likely to gain some ground between all of them and him. “Just give up now and spare yourself an ugly dea-, battle!”

That, obviously, makes Grovyle bark a laugh. “You wish! But if you truly want a fight… then I’m ready!” And he goes into an attacking position.

Sub-optimal, this entire situation is sub-optimal! Grovyle will have seen Darkrai come here at Dusknoir’s side, will most likely believe him to actually be on his side! Curse Dusknoir, and curse his insistence on accompanying him! And while he is at it, curse Chatot, for acting like Darkrai is a misbehaving child! Now, he will have to earnestly fight Grovyle, again, when he would rather not do so!

He tries to catch Grovyle’s eyes, to perhaps tell him without words that ‘Really awfully sorry about this, but I can’t let Dusknoir know that I’m not on his side’, but the blasted Grass Type obviously does not give him more than a glance!

“So, finally, you’ll fight?” The gloating is obvious in Dusknoir’s voice. Good to know that, once he experiences a plethora of emotions, even his artfully crafted mask of lies starts to wane. And then, there’s a laugh. “Let’s see if you can win against me!”

Talk about gloating.

And Grovyle readies himself and—

There’s a blast of light, making Darkrai shout in surprise and, actually, pain. His eye! Fu-, Shoot! He-he can’t see! He starts blinking, again and again, but it does not help, because all he can see is just-, a nothingness of light.

Next to him, he can hear a whimper – either Pearl or Azelf – and a rather coarse swear from Dusknoir; as well as a strange sound he cannot quite place. Maybe Grovyle?

How in the nine circles of the distortion world did Grovyle manage that?

The answer is clear, of course – this must have been a Luminous Orb. Darkrai had heard, of course, that they could be used to create a flash of light, but he had never tried it for himself. The effect is obvious, of course – if Darkrai was not so darn sensitive to light, he might consider them as a strategy for himself to use.

As it stands, he is only slowly able to make out rough shapes again, amidst the myriad of dots dancing before his eyes and the tears threatening to escape. Darn, this hurt.

“That blasted Grovyle! He never even planned to fight me at all!” Dusknoir then shouts, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Well, there’s no escaping me!” And then, the next moment the shape that Darkrai had identified as Dusknoir simply… disappears.

“W-what?!” Pearl cries, “Where is he?!”

Darkrai rubs his eye, once again, and although he is only barely starting to make out colours, answers, “Spirit World, probably.”

“Spirit… what?”

“You heard me. A separate plane of existence that only ghosts can properly traverse through. Moving through it is much faster, for him.”

“Oh…” Pearl murmurs, and then, with a gasp, turns towards where Darkrai supposes Azelf must be. “Azelf! Are you alright?!”

A pained laugh is her answer. “I’ll survive…”

“Good,” Darkrai says, “Because you do know that you have two siblings who would not get over your loss, do you not?”

“I…”

“Because from your state and some of the things you said,” he continues, looking Azelf up and down – not that he can really make the details out, yet, but what he saw before… is still vivid in his mind’s eye, “I did not gather that.”

“Guarding the Time Gear—”

“Is not as important as staying alive. That is why Uxie sent us here,” he then explains, just for good measure, “Because he – correctly, I might add – guessed that you might forget about that.”

“This Grovyle already stole three Time Gears! I can’t let him have—”

“The Time Gears are Dialga’s problem!” Darkrai snarls at him, “How do you think he would react to hearing that you got yourself killed over one?!”

“What would you know?!”

“What would I know?! You almost died, you imbecile, does that mean nothing to you?!”

“Darcy!!” Pearl interrupts him, “Stop antagonizing Azelf and just give him an Oran Berry! And get out our first aid kit!”

For a moment, Darkrai almost hisses at her, to stop trying to tell him what to do, Azelf almost died—

But then…

Then he questions what he is doing, right now. Berating Azelf, for almost killing himself? He does not have a reason for that! He does not care whether Azelf lives or dies! In the end, once he properly starts working towards the goal of a dark world, Azelf might get in his way, and then Darkrai will have to get rid of him, anyways. It is not as if they are friends.

… Azelf might have been one of the friendliest towards him, for a very long time. But that time has passed.
So why…?

Why is there a… a knot inside his chest, when he looks at Azelf, beat up like he is? Why did he get so worried about him when he saw the advancing Grovyle?

He does not know, and that almost scares him.

“Whatever,” he hisses, starting to rummage through his bag, to look for the things Pearl oh-so-much wants for Azelf. Azelf, who does not know how to keep himself from dying. Such an idiot.

He tunes out whatever small talk they then attempt, and instead throws Pearl first an Oran Berry, and then the requested first aid kit. After, he wanders away some steps from them, feeling not very inclined to help with patching Azelf up.

Instead, he once again looks at the lake, now encased in crystals. Truly, what Azelf did… was astounding. Darkrai is still not quite sure how he even managed it.

He is also, now that he thinks about it, not quite sure how Grovyle managed to escape. Sure, the light gave him good cover to escape but… Now that Darkrai is truly thinking about it, he did not hear him running away, did he? He heard Pearl or maybe Azelf, he heard Dusknoir, he even heard things like the far of dripping of a spring, no longer able to feed into a lake. So why did he not hear Grovyle?

Maybe the light confused him. But maybe… There was a strange noise, between everything else, after the Luminous Orb had gone off. Does Grovyle have a way of teleporting? Dusknoir’s reaction, of immediately moving into the Spirit World, would support that theory – if he knows that the Grass Type has a way to teleport, obviously he would no longer try to search for him here.

“Say, Azelf,” he starts, before he can think about it too much, “Do you know of a way a Grass Type might be able to teleport?”

“Huh?” is Azelf’s first answer, and as Darkrai turns around, he can see that Azelf seems just the tiniest bit confused.

“Grovyle. He must have had a way to get away fast, but with the length of the path leading to this island, I doubt that he could have run the entire way before any of us regained sight. He might be quick, but I cannot imagine him having the speed of, say, an Arcanine.”

“Oh. I… No, I don’t think so. Only if he had a partner who teleported in and then took him away.”

Darkrai hums and stares around. Since he knows that Grovyle’s partner is currently not able to help him much, and is also not able to teleport, it excludes that possibility.

So what else could he have done? Might he have found a way to hide himself?

But there is only the island here, as well as the crystals. But they are somewhat see-through, which would not make them an optimal hiding place. Hm. Out of habit, Darkrai looks at the ceiling – after all, he, of all Pokémon, would know best that pursuers very often forget to look up – and amidst the stalactites—

Oh.

For a moment, their eyes meet, and then, Darkrai looks away, as if he had not seen anything but ceiling.

It does make sense, does it not? Grovyle are said to be great jumpers, and seeing as they normally live in trees, holding unto a stalactite for a while… should not be too hard.

“Azelf,” he addresses the Legendary, as if there is no Grovyle to be seen on the ceiling, hugging a stalactite tight, as if there was nothing suspicious for the others to see there, nothing interesting to raise their gazes towards, as if he is not just trying to get them away from here as fast as possible to show Grovyle his goodwill by keeping him undiscovered, “Are you feeling well enough to move away from here?”

“I… I’m better, but I can’t just leave—”

“Grovyle cannot get to the Time Gear, as it is right now. Only a Ghost Type might, and I am sure that neither I nor Dusknoir will help him.”

“… I guess,” Azelf answers, and Darkrai can tell that he is not yet convinced.

He sighs. “Are your siblings not worried about you? Do you not have multiple wounds that require an actual professional’s care?” And then, for good measure, he again adds, “Grovyle cannot get to the Gear, right now.”

This statement is, of course, meant not just for Azelf but also their… unseen guest. It just would not do for Grovyle to attack them, now that Dusknoir is away. But perhaps he fears that the ghost might come back any second, anyways.

For some seconds, Darkrai can see Azelf fighting with himself, his face a grimace of abeyance. And finally, finally, Darkrai can see him give in, as he hangs his head in defeat.

“Alright. I guess. Just… I’ll need to be here again, soon.”

“And I will not stop you from going back once you have healed.”

And that, apparently, is the wrong thing to say. Because Darkrai is not allowed to say… nice things, it seems. By this point, he should just not ever try. If he is mean, others get angry, if he is friendly, it’s exactly the same result.

“I’m not a dainty flower you need to take care of!” Azelf bares his teeth, which does not look particularly threatening, since he is quite small and also very hurt.

Doing his best to stay calm, Darkrai simply answers, “I did not imply that.”

“Of course you did! You come here, act like I’m in the wrong for defending the Time Gear—”

“I came here, to see you on the brink of death!”

“I was not!”

“Yes, because Grovyle did not get his last attack in!”

“Darcy! Stop it!”

“Keep out of our business, Pea—“

“Stop insulting every Legendary we meet!” she shouts, and the anger is clear on her face. “Let’s just… let’s just get home, alright?” And now she’s pleading with him. Whatever. He wanted to get back to Treasure Town, anyways, Azelf just decided to be bull headed. As he always is.

“Sure,” he says, turning around to walk towards the path leading from the island. There is no pitter-patter of following feet. Don’t tell him she first wants to get a scolding in, because if she tries that, he will simply leave, with or without her.

“Uh… Darcy…?” From the way her voice sounds, he does not think that a scolding is imminent. “You do remember that with the badge, we can—?”

“Whatever,” he interrupts, floating back and pushing the explorer’s badge into her hands. “You make it… do the thing.”

“Teleport us back to town?”

“Yes. That.”

 

It is late evening when they appear at the edge of Treasure Town, and loathe as Darkrai might be to admit it, the badge’s ability to bring them back with just some… whatever Pearl did is quite impressive. Not as impressive as he is when he opens Dimensional Holes to travel through time and space, of course, but still. Impressive.

Also, there is nothing tiring about it – one moment, they are in the Crystal Cave, the next, overlooking the town. If Darkrai had used a Dimensional Hole, he would have felt winded for the next few hours, if not days.

Well. So, yes, the badge might actually be a useful tool. As long as Pearl is the one having to deal with it, he might even appreciate it.

Unfortunately, if one does… illicit activities, constantly carrying around an item which can tell others where he is, constantly – as Chatot implied it could – might not be the best idea. How unfortunate. Maybe he should look into the inner workings of the badge, see if he could not construct one as something like an ‘emergency teleport button’. Then again, he has never been very talented when it comes to technology.

“Well,” Darkrai says, and then is not sure how to continue after that statement.

Luckily for him, Pearl takes that as an invitation to speak, and turns towards Azelf to ask, “How are you feeling, Azelf? Should we look for Blissey now, or would you rather see your siblings first?”

“Blissey is our local healer,” Darkrai explains, before Azelf can ask that. He is feeling somewhat helpful, if still annoyed with Azelf.

“I think… I would prefer to visit my siblings. They are worried,” Azelf admits, and seems like someone finally telepathically spoke to them. Worried might be an understatement, then.

“Alright!” Pearl grins and starts walking towards the… uh… jail? gaol? Building for administrative purposes that have to do with the apprehension of criminals? …Magnezone’s bureau. That’s right. His bureau.

So that is where they head to.

Pearl, on the way, keeps up some light chatter with Azelf, who responds a little hesitantly at first, but starts warming up to her quickly. Pearl does have that effect on others, does she not? No matter who it is, after someone has known her for long enough, they will end up liking her.

… Except for Darkrai, of course.

“So, hey, strange question,” Pearl starts, as they can already see the bureau before them, “But you wouldn’t happen to have met Darcy before today, would you, Azelf?”

“Pearl!” he cries, indignantly, while Azelf seems merely confused.

“I… did not?”

“Oh, okay… I mean, if you do, you can definitely admit it!” as she says it, she walks up to the building’s door. “I already know that he and Uxie have known each other for quite some time, and since the two of you kinda behaved as if you had previously met, I just wondered.”

“We did not meet before.”

“We behaved like that?”

“Yeah, just like… well, he was scolding you, even though you are a Legendary and definitely older than him.” Then, still looking at Azelf and Darkrai, she knocks on the door. Once, twice, thrice.

Perhaps by a few years, but who cares about that when they are several millennia old?

“I mean… Just because I’ve been alive a long time does not mean that I’m above scolding, I guess?” Azelf shrugs his shoulder – the one that is currently not playing host to a broken arm – as he throws Darkrai a questioning glance.

Darkrai scoffs and crosses his arms. “And just because someone may be older than me does not mean that I will not tell them when they are behaving like a suicidal idiot.”

“Darcy! Come on, for once you could just… not insult everyone?”

“It is nothing but the truth,” he defends himself, throwing Azelf a glance that just asks him to deny that he is a suicidal idiot.

Azelf, instead, just sighs. “I guess. But the Time Gears must be kept save—”

“At anything but the price of your life,” a new voice speaks up, accompanied by the noise of an opening door.

Azelf gasps. “Uxie!” And then, he laughs, embarrassment clear in his voice. “I’d hug you right now, but I, uh…”

“Yes,” Uxie merely responds, too many emotions in this one word to even try to decipher. And instead of addressing his brother further, he turns towards Darkrai.

“I must thank you, once again. If it had not been for you,” and then he looks at Pearl, “… two, I would no longer have any siblings.”

Maybe it is Uxie saying it with almost no emotion, maybe it is just Uxie saying it, but Azelf gasps out loud.

“Uxie!” he cries, and then, because life sometimes just hates Darkrai, Mesprit comes out of the door as well. Behind her, a magnemite floats, and although they are not known for their expressive faces, Darkrai can tell that it is feeling quite misplaced.

“I heard Azelf’s voice,” she says, and the moment, she sees her brother, grins. “Aw, look at who got beat up more than me!”

This is the wrong thing to say, as Uxie turns around and hisses, “He almost died!”

Mesprit snorts, looking off to the side. “Yeah, well, he didn’t, so I can talk to him however I want.”

For a moment, it seems as if Uxie is about to argue, maybe shout at her, but then, he deflates and simply turns away.  “Sure. Sure, he is alive.”

He helplessly turns towards Darkrai, who can merely shrug. “Some Pokémon do not want to see the dangers they put themselves in. Siblings are a curse, I have always said.”

“You are definitely a curse to your siblings,” Mesprit enters the conversation, infuriatingly.

But for once, instead of rising to the bait, Darkrai merely raises his eyebrow – not that it will be noticed. “Did I say that I have any?” And he is careful to keep his emotions not just out of his voice, but also to not even allow himself to feel them, for the moment. With Mesprit here, that would be wiser.

“Well, it definitely sounded like you do!” Mesprit huffs, and Pearl speaks up, then, “Do you have any?”

“I do not see how that is any of your business,” he grumbles, “Besides, Azelf is still hurt. I do believe that getting Blissey here to patch him up would be a much wiser course of action than trying to find out whether I may or may not have siblings.”

“Oh, yeah! I’m so sorry, Azelf!”

Azelf shakes his head. “It’s alright, Pearl, I’ll survive some more minutes.” He grins.

“Still! Okay, it was nice to meet you three, uh, four,” she adds, looking at the lone Magnemite still inside the bureau, “But Darcy and I will fetch Blissey now!”

And that, they do.

 

“Hey, Darcy?”

“If whatever you want to ask has anything to do with siblings, I will ignore you not just today but also tomorrow.”

“… I definitely just wanted to say Goodnight.”

“Then definitely do so.”

“And… could we… maybe… I mean, just the fingers—”

“If you will then be quiet and let me sleep, I guess.”

“You’re the best!”

“I know!”

“Ugh, you’re impossible.”

Then, finally, silence.

And just as he is about to drift of to sleep, he thinks he hears her say, “You know, you’re… really my best friend.”

How strange.

Notes:

Darkrai: “Darn it, how can Dusknoir act like he’s having a good time so well?”
Dusknoir: is actually just having a good time

 

Hi, I hope you all had some great weeks since the last weeks! If not, I hope this chapter could at least give you some reprieve.
The next chapter will either be uploaded at Christmas or New Years, unfortunately, I can't make any concrete promises, since my month will be stressful (as always, tbh).

This chapter... I swear, half of it wrote itself. So many of the character interactions, I had not planned at all, they just... came to be as they are. I hope they make sense, though.
Also, the second thing regarding this chapter - Grovyle's escape in canon always struck me as weird, since... well, as is later learnt, the flash of light Grovyle and the Player's team use to get away is used just as a decoy to use Dig, and I just, for the love of everything, could not imagine Grovyle earlier to be able to use dig on a ground made out of crystal. I know that the Pokémon world sometimes just tends to be weird like that, but I really could not get myself to write it like this. And so, I come up with another version, which I hope is still acceptable.

Another topic: Thank you all so much for your comments, I swear, one day you are actually going to make me cry (as of now, I did only tear up. Multiple times). I just... I'm just really astonished as to how great this story has been received. I swear that I will continue to do my best!

If the next chapter does not get uploaded by Christmas, I wish you all great holidays!

Chapter 15: Ruins of the Past

Summary:

Last Chapter: The hunt for Grovyle continued. Darkrai, accompanied by Pearl and Dusknoir, travelled together to visit Azelf, to warn him of the thief; but as they arrived at his Crystal Lake, Grovyle had already arrived. Dusknoir left to follow Grovyle, who fled once they arrived; and Darkrai and Pearl, together with Azelf, made their way back to Treasure Town.

Notes:

This 'Chapter' will be split into three parts, which will all be uploaded today, as to assure a better reading experience (because let's be honest, scrolling though 32.000 words in a single chapter would just be a bit... too much).

For almost an entire day, Darkrai lives in an almost perfect world. After all, what else could it be, when there is no Dusknoir in town? Oh, of course Chatot is annoying as usual, and so is Wigglytuff’s mere presence, but if it is just these two and not an annoying ghost along with them… Well, then it is almost perfect.

Even better is that he is not required to go out on a rescue mission or exploration – after all, did he not face Grovyle twice? Did he not fight him once? Blissey herself ordained Pearl and him to rest for the day, so he is not being lazy at all, thank you very much.

And so, this day is almost a perfect day. He can merely sit on the guild’s table, no one there except him and Pearl, enjoy a nice drink, read that one scroll he bought some weeks ago and then never had the time for, and just do whatever it is he wants to do. Not what others want him to do.

And after… Maybe he will just relax some more. Yes. That sounds like a plan. Oh, and he could also enjoy the silence. That sounds—

“I want to visit Uxie.”

He almost splutters out the sip of his drink he just took. Darn it, what if he had hit his scroll with it?! Is he not even allowed to drink in peace, anymore? Or read? After swallowing his drink, he turns towards her, making the disbelief in his voice as obvious as he can. “You want to what?”

“You’re not deaf, Darcy.” Pearl crosses her arms and then, for good measure, also rolls her eyes. Flaunting that she has two, huh? Well, Darkrai can roll his eye, too, and he does just that, after putting both drink and scroll on the table.

“I want to visit him,” she continues, “And maybe also Azelf and Mesprit. But mostly Uxie.”

“But… why would you want to do so?”

And then, she actually has the gall to frown. “What’s it to you?”

… What. He cannot help his eyebrow escaping into his hairline in surprise and disbelief. This… attitude! Where did she get that from?

Fortunately, it is gone as quickly as it came, because with an audible breath, she deflates again. “Sorry. The last few days were just… stressful.”

“Indeed, they were,” he agrees, not willing to get into yet another argument. He can tell that things have not quite been the same ever since the… previous one, and keeping the peace is the most important thing right now. More important than riling her up just because he can, in any way. “So, do tell, why, again, would you want to do anything but do nothing, today?”

She shrugs. “Can’t I just want to see them? Over the last days, I spent so much time around them, I just miss their presence, you know?”

“Pearl,” he enunciates, careful to keep any emotions or, even worse, accusations, out of his voice, “You are not a very good liar. And I honestly do not see why you are even trying to do so.”

She uncrosses her arms and juts out her chin instead. “Yeah, well, neither are you, so why are you bringing it up now? Ugh, that was stupid to say, just ignore that.”

… To keep the peace, he does. Even if he does not agree with what she said.

Pearl shakes her head. “Anyways, I just want to ask Uxie about the Dimensional Scream, okay? You can stop being such a snoop now.”

“It is not called being a snoop if you have a reason to know,” he objects, leading her to huff – but Darkrai notices that, fortunately, it sounds good natured.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that. Anyways, do you wanna join me or not?” She raises her eyebrows.

All of this, just to ask that? Ugh. And now he has to deal with the question. Which… turns out to be more complicated than it has to be.

Obviously, he does not want to join her. He would rather just continue what he was doing, for the moment. Moreover, he has no interest of seeing Uxie and his siblings, to maybe being subjected to their questions, and having to keep his cover all throughout the evening. He might have gotten away both with Mesprit and Azelf until now, but every time from now on he meets them, he will chance discovery.

So the obvious answer would be ‘no’, would it not?

Unfortunately, not truly. Because there is the possibility of Pearl asking Uxie bad questions, and Uxie answering them, and her drawing conclusions from that, and, well, that would be… sub-optimal. Moreover, if she spent time around Mesprit and Azelf without him as a, well, ‘chaperone’, then who could truly foresee what the three would come up with to annoy him, after? Pearl still likes playing pranks, even if they have not had the time to do so the last few weeks, Mesprit would probably do anything she could the moment she got the chance to annoy him, and Azelf… well, Azelf just does not know how to keep away from bad company.

Groaning as he stands up, he finally answers. “Sure, I will come with you. But do not think I actually care for any of their company.”

Pearl laughs and, once Darkrai has brought his scroll to their room and made his way back from there, starts leading the way out of the guild. “Sure you don’t. Especially not Uxie.”

“I do not,” he ascertains, his eyebrow furrowing without him wanting it to – one of the side effects of having his real face being constantly hidden by a less emotive illusion might have been that he has allowed himself to let some of the control he previously had slip. He will have to rectify that, once all of this is over. How very, very annoying.

Still, what Pearl implied, just now – that he likes Uxie’s company… He endures it, sure, but he would never think of it as anything but an annoying chore.

“I mean, I do get that you and Mesprit don’t, uh, like each other very much. What is it with you and her, anyways? Did she insult you in the past or something?”

For half a moment, Darkrai almost does not notice her fishing for information – and is that not bad, to realize that she must have a hunch that he already knew each of the Lake Guardians?

But he does not stumble over her question, because she is still clunky when it comes to this. Instead, he acts as if he was staring at today’s cloudy sky – quite a pleasant sky, actually. And the temperature is neither too warm nor too cold. A nice day, all around. It could only be made better by eternal darkness, but alas, for now, he will have to be patient.

Then, once he has come up with an answer which will not tell her anything she actually wants to hear, he tells Pearl, “I did not know her before a few days ago. She is merely… an annoying character.”

“Yeah, sure. I know you, Darcy.” She starts jumping down the steps, as if she were a child. “And you don’t just think she’s annoying.”

Is she not technically a child? He has the sudden realization. How old was she, before she travelled back in time? How old was she when he… attacked Grovyle?

For a few moments, he just stares at her back, going up and down with each jump, trying to remember if he ever knew, but comes up blank. Except for the one time he guessed her age, based on different factors, but that is not sufficient proof.

Before the attack, he did not know much more than about her existence, and her name. He never thought he would need to invest more time into studying her character.

Pearl suddenly turns around, almost half the steps already behind him, and Darkrai, finally, moves to float them down, at a more sedate pace. Once he has caught up, he answers. “If you need to know, I know her type. And I dislike it. Is that satisfying for you?”

She hums, starting her jumping again. “I guess.” Jump. “Can you behave-,“ Jump. “Yourself once you-,” Jump. “See her, though?”

“Stop this, Pearl,” he chastises, and when she looks at him with questioning eyes, that he knows hide that she is absolutely aware about what he means, he still explains. “That jumping. Either jump, or speak. Not both at the same time.”

“I’m not doing that, though,” she says, then jumps, and continues, “Anyways, can you behave?” And again, she jumps. Well, technically she might be right, but Darkrai is still annoyed.

He crosses his arms and simply follows, instead of engaging her again.  “Pearl, I am an adult. Of course I can. As long as she is not making fun of me, I will not treat her with disrespect.”

And then, she has the gall to stop for a moment to sigh. “Yeah, okay. Guess that’s the best I’m gonna get.” She jumps one last time, and then reaches the end of the stairs, where she turns around to look at him. “Hey, do you think if we go straight through the forest, we’ll reach the jail sooner?”

Darkrai stares at the forest and finally shrugs. “How would I know?”

“Then let’s find out!” And then, she’s running straight into the small patch of forest, with no care to give. Great. It is not like she has incredibly long hair which will surely get tangled the moment she just looks at branches the wrong way. Oh no, she just has the tiniest feathers to ever exist, or something.

What is wrong with her, today, anyways? First the jumping, now the adventuring, one would think she is actually trying to behave as childish as possible. But there would be no reason for that.

Following Pearl with his eyes, Darkrai, for a moment, entertains the thought of just going the (maybe) longer way around the forest, but then she would surely be offended, and he would rather like to avoid that. And thus, he follows through this little patch of trees, mostly made up of tamarisks, carobs and figs. It is too bad that the season for figs is already over, he quite likes their taste.

Luckily, at least, is that this patch of forest has not too much overgrowth – and thinking about that, Darkrai has to wonder whether his bag is still lying where he threw it. He really should put up a notice on the board. It is too bad that time just seemed to run away from him the last few days.

One more reason to dislike Dialga.

Pearl continues to trek forward and Darkrai follows behind, letting her deal with the occasional branch trying to hit her in the face and then avoiding his legs being hit by it. Finally, they emerge… somewhere that is decidedly not the bureau.

“Great,” Darkrai huffs, realizing that Pearl managed to get them lost. “Just great.”

“Don’t be like that, it looks cool!”

And of course she thinks it interesting. Of course she does. He crosses his arms and carefully inspects the small ruins lying before them.

There are stones, arranged in a pattern which Darkrai recognizes as what must once have been a building – not very big, but it seems to include three smaller rooms next to each other, and one bigger room in front of them. Or behind? He cannot make out the door sill for any of them. An entrance stone is still visible though, for the biggest room – although it could also be a back door; so the question of where the front laid is still unsolved. Everything is covered in dirt and plant matter, and what was once walls does not even reach the height of Pearl’s head anymore. In many places, stones are either missing or simply overgrown.

The floor, however, seems mostly intact, although in some places it has become hard to tell whether something is simply dirt or instead a dirty stone.

“Do not get too close,” he warns Pearl, who is about to step into the ruins. She obviously does not want to listen, as usual.

“Why not? It’s just some old stones.” And she creeps forward, to inspect them.

“Stones which were very obviously once a building. There could be a cellar, and the moment you step on the floor, the ground could give out, leaving you to fall underneath it; to perish either of a stone falling on you, ending you immediately; or by suffocating slowly under the weight of a stone which landed on you but did not kill you quickly; or if you are particularly unlucky, you could end up stuck there until you either die of thirst or hunger.”

Slowly, Pearl turns around, to look at him instead of the stones. “Darcy,” she starts, her entire being screaming an emotion which Darkrai cannot name, “Sometimes, I really gotta wonder what’s wrong with you.”

Crossing his arms, he keeps from showing his annoyance openly and instead makes his way over to her, careful not to accidentally step somewhere where a cellar could possibly be. “Now you know how each and every minute of my existence is spent, ever since I met you.”

She sends him a beaming smile. “You wonder what’s wrong with you?”

“I wonder what is wrong with you, Pearl.” He huffs and turns to inspect the stones more closely. They seem old, but not ancient. Well. Perhaps ancient by other Pokémon’s standards, but not… Darkrai-ancient. Maybe the ruins of a hut some kind of hermit built themselves, to be not too close to the town? Or was the city located more to the south in previous times, and this is one of the leftovers from a later occurring change of location?

No, that would not make a lot of sense, with the way the river flows through the city. Besides, most of Treasure Town’s buildings are made of wood and fabric, so a stone building just seems rather… odd. And a hut seems illogical due to the room layout – it is just so very strange.

“You think this was a temple?” Pearl pipes up, and Darkrai draws up his eyebrow to look at her.

“A temple?”

“Yeah, cause that stone over there seems like an altar, of some kind, doesn’t it?”

Darkrai inspects the mentioned stone. It is situated in the middle of one of the three rooms, and is by far the biggest stone to lie here. Closer inspection reveals that, while cracked in a few places, it was once a monolith. “It… might have been. But why would a temple be built here?”

“A mystery!” Pearl cries, elated, and probably without noticing it, she starts jumping the tiniest bit up and down. “Once this Grovyle-business is over, we can investigate it!”

“… Sure.”

“Come on, it’s cool! I can see that you also think it’s cool!”

She smiles, still, and with a scoff, he answers. “The only thing I am thinking about right now is that you are annoying, Pearl.”

That is, apparently, the wrong thing to say, as she just stares at him for a few moments and then turns around. If she had actual hair, and of a length over her shoulders, it would have swished around rather remarkably, but alas, she is but a small Piplup now and all of the previous majesty the movement might have possessed is gone now.

“Great. Then let’s just get to Uxie.” And before he even has the chance to say anything, she hurries off into the forest again.

For a few moments, Darkrai remains behind, pondering what he might have done wrong. By now, she knows that he does not indulge in the idiocies that she does, so him admitting so should not surprise her, anymore. Should it?

And he already made it clear that this entire thing was annoying him, so why does the mention of it make her so… hissy?

Ugh, why is it so hard to interpret other’s feelings right and react accordingly?!

Not… That he cannot do so. He knows how to read others. He knows how to react accordingly. He does!

Staring at the stone, which might have been an altar eons ago, one last time, he finally turns and follows Pearl. They do not talk the rest of the way.

 

“Hi, Pearl! Hi, Guy-Who-Hates-My-Guts-For-No-Apparent-Reason!”

“Hi, Mesprit! Could you maybe, uh, not—”

“Just let her indulge in those little things, Pearl. If she thinks that behaving like a child will make anyone respect her, that is her decision, no?”

“Why, you—”

“Mesprit, Darcy,” Uxie’s voice interrupts, “If you could please keep from antagonizing each other for just five minutes, that would be appreciated.”

He had followed his sister out of Magnezone’s bureau, once Pearl and Darcy made their presence known; but the Magnemite on duty had not wanted to let them inside without explicit permission from Magnezone; and so, instead, Mesprit and Uxie had needed to meet them outside.

Darkrai huffs as answer, and turns to look in a different direction. “As long as she does not insult me, I will not insult her.”

“Yeah, well, as long as he does—”

“Mesprit.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” she waves her hand, as if she could just fan her brother’s scolding away like a Cutiefly. For half a moment, Darkrai almost allows himself to recognize it as a movement he used to do whenever Cresselia lectured him, but then he takes that recognition and forces it so very deep down that he might never, ever, remember it again, in this life or another.

“Anyways, what brought you here?” Mesprit then asks, looking strictly at Pearl, and just at Pearl. Darkrai actually agrees with her chosen course of action, for once. “Did you want to check in with Azelf? He’s still sleeping, sorry.”

“Ah, well, I mean we also wanted to know how he is, but actually, I, uh, I…”

“She came here to ask you something, Uxie,” Darkrai explains into the sudden bout of silence from Pearl – she would not suddenly be nervous, would she? Then again, her emotions today seem to be in disarray.

“Oh?” Uxie turns his head from Darkrai to Pearl. “You do?”

“I, uh… Yeah,” Pearl admits, and after taking a deep breath, looks at Uxie with a smile, newfound bravery obvious within her eyes. “Yeah, I do! It’s, well, uhm, could you just promise me not to talk about what I’m gonna ask with others? Just like with the… you know.”

“You know?” Mesprit asks, and even Uxie seems confused.

“The thing which was mentioned when Pearl first met you, Uxie,” Darkrai explains, as carefully as he can, “Which has to do with her origins.”

“Oh!” Uxie exclaims in sudden understanding, “Of course I will not share it. I never share secrets which are not mine.”

And Darkrai is sure that, if Uxie’s eyes were actually visible, he would throw Darkrai a glance at his words.

… Great to know.

“What are you talking about?” Mesprit asks, her confusion apparent, but Uxie shakes his head.

“That is not for me to share with you, Mesprit.”

That proclamation makes Mesprit turn towards Pearl. “If I swear that I’m not gonna tell it either, will you tell me?”

“Uh…” Pearl starts, then trails off immediately. “No? Sorry…?”

Mesprit harrumphs and looks away for a moment, then seems to calm down. “Well, worth a try, I guess. Don’t worry, I’m not offended or anything.”

She is definitely offended. For a second, Darkrai contemplates calling her out on it, but then decides that, no, he will not behave like a child. Only Mesprit does that.

“I truly am sorry, Mesprit, but with this, Pearl will decide on the course of action,” Uxie tells her, actually sounding chagrined. Then, he turns towards Darkrai and Pearl. “Do you want to talk here, or would you rather we find another place…?”

“Here’s fine!” Pearl jumps to say, “I mean, uhm…” She looks towards Mesprit, seeming rather embarrassed. “If, well…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Mesprit says, crossing her arms. “I’ll just check up on Azelf, I guess. He’s much better company anyways, even when asleep.” And she turns around and floats into the bureau once again, the door being opened for her by Magnemite. How did it know that she was going to come in? Was it listening, or is there a mechanism based on vicinity?

Since he does not know, Darkrai moves away a little from the entire building, ignoring Pearl’s and Uxie’s confused gazes. When he does not answer their unsaid questions, they just move after him, until they are situated somewhat between the trees. Darkrai seats himself on a low-hanging branch, Pearl follows his example by seating herself on a fortunately placed tree stump, and Uxie, after watching both of them sit down, also does so; on a branch just like Darkrai.

Luckily not the same one.

“So, you wanted to ask about…?” he starts, trailing off to give either of them the chance to fill out the words.

“Uhm, okay, so, it’s kinda complicated, but…” Pearl takes a deep breath. “I guess I have this kind of ability, that I can see either the past or future? Whenever I touch certain things.”

Uxie’s eyes seem to widen, even without him opening them.

“And just recently I learnt that its name is ‘Dimensional Scream’, and I guess I just… wanted to find out more about it, and I thought that you’d be the one who would most likely know something?”

For a while, Uxie is quiet, very obviously thinking and then, he smiles. “Indeed, I do. It is not a common ability.”

Pearl laughs, “Yeah, I figured. Darcy and I haven’t come across anyone else who has it!”

Uxie nods. “Which makes sense, it is really quite rare; and moreover, it also has to be learnt.”

“Oh, so Dusknoir was right about that!” Pearl says, and then, her eyes widening, puts her hands in front of her mouth. “Oops. Just act like you… didn’t hear me say that it’s him that told me that?”

Uxie raises an eyebrow. “Dusknoir knows about this ability?”

“Not much,” Darkrai explains, “Just its name and that it is learnt. He claimed he had an acquaintance who also knew how to use it.”

“You did not believe him?” Uxie asks, and Pearl, as well, stares at Darkrai now.

He crosses his arms and shrugs. The movement, most definitely, does not translate very well through the illusion. “I, myself, do not know about this ability, so I cannot judge the validity of his words.”

“Anyways, so it’s learnt?” Pearl asks, taking up the thread of conversation again, “But, then why doesn’t everyone try to learn it? It’s a pretty useful skill, at least I think so.” She starts swinging her legs.

Uxie shakes his head, though to which part of the sentence is not clear. “It is learnt, yes, but not everyone can actually learn it. There are some Pokémon, and also humans, who have the ability to do so, and of those, even fewer actually figure out how to master it. It is quite a long process.”

“But that means that, as a human, I… must have decided to learn it?”

Uxie nods. “Indeed, it does. I know of no one who could utilize the Dimensional Scream and had not studied for it.”

Pearl’s eyes seem to sparkle, for a reason which Darkrai cannot understand.

“And… Like, I know that some visions can be visual and hear…able—"

“Auditory,” Darkrai corrects.

“Auditory, and others are just auditory. Are there specific rules for when which visions come up?”

Uxie crosses one of his legs over the other. “Of that, I am not quite sure. I know about visions of either past or future which could be felt, but these seem to be the rarest type. Besides that, there is no correlation I would know of between the type of a vision and its contents. Although that is certainly a question which should be further researched.”

Pearl’s eyes are positively sparkling now, listening to Uxie explain the Dimensional Scream.

“There is one more important thing about this ability, though…” Uxie starts, and then trails off. For a few moments, he seems to stare at the ground, and when he looks up again, a small smile is playing on his lips. “It needs something like a… conduit, which can only be found in another creature, who the user of the Dimensional Scream trusts.”

As both Pearl and Darkrai stare at Uxie, maybe not understanding, maybe not willing to do so, he actually laughs.

“To put it simply, you need to have a trusted friend close to you for it to work.” He turns towards Pearl. “It was Darcy who was next to you whenever you had a vision, was it not?”

Pearl stares at Uxie in something akin to disbelief. “I… Yeah.” And a smile splits her face. “Yeah, he was.”

… What.

Uxie smiles in turn, happier than Darkrai can remember seeing him in many years. Not that they saw each other much, but still. “I am happy to hear that.”

What.

No. No, that makes no sense. “But Pearl had a vision just shortly after we had—” He breaks off.

“Shortly after?” Uxie prompts, but Darkrai shakes his head. No reason for Uxie to know about—

“An argument,” Pearl, the traitor, explains.. “It was… not pretty.”

“Exactly!” Darkrai cries, now that Uxie knows anyways. “Why would she still consider me—”

“Darcy,” Pearl interrupts him, her swinging legs finally stopping, to be replaced by hands pointing at him, maybe in a position of… surrender? “It’s alright. Just because of one argument, or a few disagreements, well, that doesn’t just stop us from being friends.” She smiles, probably trying to calm him. Oh, he realizes, that’s what her hands are trying to communicate – a calming motion.

But he does not need to be calmed!

He just… he just does not understand. The strange atmosphere which has been between them ever since the argument, and his previous experiences tell him that one slip-up will always cost something, will always be pricey, will always ruin more than it should. She should not consider him her best friend anymore. He knows that.

She has many better candidates for that position by now, anyways. So why not choose one of those?

And by now, he knows Pearl, and knows that, while she can sometimes be somewhat naïve, more often she… is not. Especially when it comes to situations which require a deeper understanding of other Pokémon’s emotions.

She can be quite perceptive if she wants to be, so she most certainly has to be considering that he is no longer her friend, just as he is constantly considering what consequences the argument had on their relationship.

Which leaves just one conclusion for what she just said: she must be lying. Them still being friends, or at least him still being her best friend, it must be a lie.

But then, the Dimensional Scream would not work, would it?

But… But Darkrai was not the only one in the cave, was he? No, that thrice-cursed Dusknoir was there too, meaning that she must consider him…

Uxie’s chuckle interrupts Darkrai’s train of thought. “I think you broke him, Pearl.”

She, in turn, shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time. But, say, do you know anything more about the Dimensional Scream? Sorry if I’m annoying you, but—”

“Oh no, it is quite alright! I understand.” Uxie smiles.

Darkrai is still grappling to understand the world as it is right now. To think that all this time, Dusknoir was getting closer to Pearl, so very close that she would consider him her best friend… How infuriating! That darn ghost, oh, if Darkrai could just find a way to get rid of him!

“I do not know if you have discovered it yet,” Uxie says, and Darkrai decides to just concentrate on what he is explaining, for the moment at least, before his thoughts completely drown him, “But while the Dimensional Scream can be triggered unintentionally more often than not, it can also be done wilfully. Normally that requires some knowledge about the object one is touching – for example, if you know that someone else has touched it before, or if you plan to make someone else touch it, you can, with enough practice, trigger visions. It will not work every time, but I have been told that it is quite useful.”

For a few seconds, Pearl just stares at Uxie with wide eyes and then—

“Darcy! Pick up that leaf!” She points at one of the numerous leaves lying on the ground. Which one exactly, Darkrai is not sure.

In any way, he scoffs. “Why should I?”

“So I can touch it, too!”

He rolls his eye. “Well, then you pick it up.”

“But I wanna see you in the past, picking it up!”

“I am not quite sure it actually… works like that…” Uxie tries to chime in, but goes ignored.

“Yeah, well, how about you just try to see me refusing to pick it up, by picking it up yourself?”

“But that’s the past, I already know it!”

“Well then pick up the leaf yourself and try to see whether I’m going to ever pick it up.”

“I am really not sure you two are—”

“Yeah, well, then maybe I will do that!” she cries, picking up one of the leaves and staring at it intently.

And staring. And also a little more staring.

Finally, Pearl lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, okay, maybe it doesn’t work like that. But I still wanna try to force a vision!”

Darkrai snorts. “There are many more leaves here, try as many as you want.”

“Yeah, maybe you could pick one up first, but whatever. Maybe… do you have anything in your bag which could be, uh… vision-prompting?”

“I do indeed have an X-Eye Seed.”

“Darcy!”

He sighs. “What do you want me to say, Pearl? ‘Oh yes, I definitely have a mysterious item on me which is cloaked in secrets which you could now solve’?”

“Yes, exactly! … Wait, wouldn’t your Relic—”

“It got stolen alongside the bag,” he interrupts, as quickly as he can. Uxie shall not know about this. “It is still stolen.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot.”

“Of course you did. So, besides that, do I have anything like that on me? I do not.”

Pearl sighs. “That sucks. I just wish—, Wait. Wait!” She cries, almost destroying Darkrai’s eardrums. Well, not really, he has heard many others be much louder. It is still too loud.

“What?”

“The ruins! Which we found on our way! They are mysterious!”

“So what, you want to caress the stones and see if any of them react?”

“Eew, don’t say it like that, but yeah, exactly!” She grins and jumps off of the stump. “Come on, Darcy, let’s find some stones to touch! You’re also invited, Uxie!” And she runs into the direction where they previously found the ruins, not even waiting for an answer.

And as always, Darkrai can do naught but follow.

 

They end up at the ruined building after a few minutes of searching – more than Darkrai had hoped for, and less than he had expected. It is unchanged, of course, with their last visit not even an hour ago.

“Oh, that is certainly interesting,” Uxie exclaims, floating forward to the stone which might have been an altar. “Judging by the outline,” he adds, while looking around, “This must’ve been a temple.”

“Hah!” Pearl cries, “I told you!”

“I never said that I doubted you.”

“You made it seem like you did, though.”

“Oh, of course, put some more words in my mouth.”

“I wasn’t-,” she starts, her voice already too loud, and then, she just shakes her head. “Never mind, just forget it.”

“Anyways,” Uxie says, his voice louder than usual, “If you truly want to try to gleam into future or past, Pearl, I would recommend you use this stone as the object to touch.” He points at the likely-an-altar stone. “I believe that if anything, it would work better than any of the building blocks.”

Pearl nods, determination in her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll do that! Darcy, stay close, okay?”

Darkrai rolls his eyes – what else should he do, really? – but follows nonetheless. He is not in as much danger of breaking through the floor, anyways… Or is he? He weighs more than Pearl, but he can float, but once he touches the ground…

Hm. Carefully, he steps on the ground, but it does not give out beneath him, and so, a little braver, he finally makes his way over to Pearl.

Who has meanwhile positioned herself in front of the perhaps-altar, and after taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and puts her hand, or rather flipper, to one of the sides of the stone block. She could certainly reach its top, if she stretched, but would then end up in quite an uncomfortable position.

Just as before, there is silence, and some more silence, and before it can become even more silence, Darkrai takes pity on her.

“If it does not work, do not beat yourself up over it, Pearl. It will most likely take some time to truly master—”

And she gasps and grasps her head, as if in pain. It… it worked? But Dusknoir’s not here!

For a few moments, she remains standing, her body stiff, and then, she lets out a heavy breath and slowly blinks her eyes open. Then, a large smile grows on her face.

“I did it! I actually did it, Darcy!”

Uxie is smiling, too, for whatever reason. As if her success is his, maybe. “Congratulations, Pearl. You did great.”

“So, what did you see?” Darkrai asks instead of telling her that she is great for… using a skill she probably already had for some time.

“I heard something! There was a voice talking, but it seemed somewhat further away? I couldn’t make out a lot.” She sinks in on herself.

Darkrai probes for more. “And what did you make out?”

“It was uh, I guess it might have been a she? At least the voice sounded female. And she was talking about something being her fault, but also not being her fault? It was kinda… well, very confusing, to be honest.”

Uxie hums, looking around the ruins once again. “That does not give us any knowledge about this temple, necessarily, but it is certainly very interesting.” He smiles. “In any way, we confirmed that your ability can be triggered on purpose, which I think is quite a big step for one day.”

“It is!” Pearl answer, grinning from non-visible ear to non-visible ear. “It most definitely is!”

Darkrai just stands beside the two, not sure what he should add to that. It is a useful ability, of course. But to not decide what you hear or see does limit it, somewhat. In the worst-case scenario, she could even get to know things about him in this way, which she should not know.

So, most likely, he will have to guard his belongings closely from now on. Great.

“Well,” Uxie starts, “What do you say we return to Officer Magenzone’s gaol, for now? I know my sister, and she was a little sore she was not included in this.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want her to feel left out… But I’m just not so comfortable to tell her about it, yet?”

“There is no need for you to be sorry,” Uxie assures her, starting to float back in the direction of the bureau again, “I understand why you did not want to share it, and she did, as well.” He lets a little laugh escape. “She just likes to be felt sorry for.”

“You don’t say,” Darkrai mumbles, and Uxie’s gaze towards him at that seems almost… fond. Which is strange, because Uxie usually does not let him insult his siblings, but maybe he is just feeling particularly nice today.

Pearl lets out a shy-sounding giggle. “Yeah, I kinda gathered when we travelled back together.”

Uxie smiles. “She indulges in appearing overly dramatic to those who don’t know her closely.”

“She isn’t actually?”

“Of course not,” Uxie says, laughing. Then, something seems to come to his mind, and with his laugh becoming a sheepish grin, he admits, “Well, maybe a little.”

Darkrai does not agree with that assessment, but does not say so – Uxie will be aware of that, anyways, and he does not want to seem childish in front of Pearl, after all.

Pearl laughs, and suddenly, Darkrai realizes that this is small talk. They are making small talk.

How strange.

Luckily for him, before another word can be spoken, they leave the woods again, and step in front of the bureau – where Mesprit is already waiting. Not that she has a reason for that, the idiot. But if she wanted to bore herself while not being included in what Uxie, Pearl and he were doing, truly, he would not have stopped her if he had the chance.

The moment they are close enough to hear each other without shouting, she greets them, “Hey Uxie, hey Pearl, hey Other Guy.”

“Mesprit!” Uxie cries, the same moment Darkrai decides to be the bigger of the two.

“You can just call me Duskull, you know?”

“Well, you never made that very clear, what with just attacking and—”

“Enough, Mesprit!” Uxie almost shouts, and that, finally, makes Mesprit sink into herself.

She stares first at the ground, and then throws Uxie a gaze. For a few moments, everything is silent, but then, Mesprit sighs heavily. “Alright, alright. I get it. I’ll stop.”

Ugh, they must have been conversing per telepathy. Darkrai hates when they do that.

Mesprit then looks at Darkrai. “Sorry and all that jazz, I guess. Didn’t mean to seem as if I was trying to insult you.”

“Well, that was unsuccessful, was it not?” Darkrai huffs, crossing his arms.

Next to him, Pearl groans. “Please, just… Just stop, you two. I know that I’m many years younger than all of you and I feel like a parent whenever you two start bickering.”

“Are you calling me a child?!” Darkrai cries, a cry that Mesprit mirrors at exactly the same moment. He looks at her, she at him, and then both turn their faces away, intent to never let something like that repeat.

For a few moments, it is quiet, and then, Mesprit speaks up again. “Anyways, I was just playing welcoming committee to tell you that Azelf woke up half an hour ago. He’s feeling much better already.”

“Oh, that’s great news!” Pearl exclaims, and Uxie nods in agreement.

“I will visit him, then,” Uxie states, and after, asks, “Did he mention if he wanted to see anyone specific?”

Mesprit shakes her head. “Nah, just that he was feeling better and that we could just let him get back to his lake.”

“That idiot—”

“Yeah, that’s what I also called him; now he’s all huffy. I guess he might be hoping that he can make you see why he should return there when his Time Gear’s perfectly safe where he left it.” She crosses and uncrosses her arms as she speaks, and then merely places them on her hips. If Azelf was out here right now, he would certainly feel very dwarfed by her palpable annoyance.

“He can certainly try.” Uxie’s words sound like a threat. Maybe they are.

“Uhm…” Pearl speaks up, making both Uxie and Mesprit jump a little. “Not to bother him, but do you think he’d like to see us?”

Mesprit and Uxie share a gaze and fall silent for some moments. Then, almost reluctantly, Uxie shakes his head. “No, unfortunately not. Not today, at least. But he expresses his thanks for yesterday’s assistance.”

Pearl’s eyebrows are drawn together tightly, and she stares at Uxie. Probably clueless as to how he got to know that.

“Telepathy,” Darkrai explains.

Pearl’s eyes go wide, and she makes a drawn out “Oooh” sound. Then, a smile appears on her face again. “That’s too bad, but I totally understand. Anyways, thank you so much, Uxie!”

“It was no problem, Pearl – I was happy I could help.”

“And I was happy to be left all alone,” Mesprit says, the grin on her face betraying the humour she must actually feel at her own words. It is not as if they were a great joke.

“You had Azelf as company,” Uxie objects, and Mesprit shrugs.

“Oh yeah, he was great, what with him not saying a single word for most of the time. You know how much I love silence.”

“Do we really have to be here for this incessant… bickering?” Darkrai interrupts, making Mesprit huff and Uxie let out a sheepish laugh, again.

“No, you do not need to be here for that, Dar-, Darcy. Until we meet again.”

He hums back, not willing to actually answer, and turns around, ignoring Pearl as she gives her farewells.

Soon enough, he can hear her run after him, and once she is by his side, he turns towards her. “Any other plans for today you want to drag me into?” he asks, drawing his eyebrow up.

Pearl shakes her head, walking beside him. This time, they are taking the actual path to the guild. Fortunately. “Nah, not really. I promised Bidoof and Sunflora that, once they are back from their assignment today, I’d tell them the story of helping Azelf, again, in more detail, but I don’t think you’d enjoy being part of that.”

“And you are quite right,” he easily agrees, because no matter the negative side effects their argument had on their relationship, at least she now accepts his distaste for others much more easily.

Then, she asks, “Anything you have planned, then?”

“Well, now that you pulled me out of the guild, I figured I would get a notice about our bag posted on the board.”

“Oh, yeah, we didn’t have time for that, yet!” she says. Then, she looks at the sky, where the sun is starting to break through the clouds.

The rest of the way passes in silence, but once they arrive at the crossing paths in front of the steps leading to the guild, she turns towards him. “So, I guess we’ll split up here, for now?”

He nods. “Indeed. As far as I am aware, one of Magnezone’s underlings is in Treasure Town, and is the one who should be contacted for any lost items.”

Pearl grins. “Alright, then. See you, yeah?”

“Of course we will see each other,” he first says, a little puzzled, until he realizes that it was just her way of giving her farewell. Darn it. Sometimes, this modern language just likes to slip from his mind. He coughs. “Anyways. Farewell.”

Pearl laughs as she walks away.

Notes:

Hi, great to read you all again! As mentioned before, this chapter will be triple upload, so in the next few minutes, the next part will go up!

Chapter 16: Revelations of the Present

Notes:

Here comes Part 2! Which will be, length wise, the longest of the three.

The morning of the next day, before they even have a chance for breakfast, all of the guild’s members are called to the main square of Trash Town, due to… an important announcement having to be made, it seems. It will probably have something to do with Grovyle, Darkrai guesses.

He would curse whoever decided to do it at this time, but whatever. He is still too tired to properly hate anyone.

As the entirety of the guild’s members make their way over, rambunctious as usual (excluding, of course, Darkrai), he takes a look around. Most locals of the town are at the square already, and so are even some travellers, who have not been her for more than a few weeks. There are always travellers in Trash Town, so that they are also nosy is no surprise. All of the Pokémon assembled are whispering and wondering about the reason they were called here for.

The square is packed fully, but luckily – or maybe the opposite of it – most others make way for the guild members, to place themselves in front of the others. Darkrai would guess that there are well over sixty Pokémon assembled here, and that is just… too much. Way too much.

Even Uxie, Mesprit and Azelf are here, whispering between each other. For a few moments, Darkrai thinks about maybe floating over to them, but then decides that this is just a stupid idea. They won’t be as quiet as he would wish them to be, and Mesprit would just… annoy him for the fun of it, probably, and he is still not awake enough for that, yet.

Pearl forlornly looks between him and Uxie for some reason, but in the end hurries after him without asking whatever she probably wanted to ask.

At the front of the congregation floats Magnezone, although he does not talk, yet – instead he looks into the direction of Treasure Town’s exit. Maybe waiting for someone or something?

Unfortunately, if Darkrai had hoped to be left alone for a few more minutes, before whatever announcement they are about to be told can be made, he had been wrong. Right next to his ear, he hears a snicker, and when he turns, his heart trying to jump out of his chest for a moment, there is a certain ghost next to him.

Dareios snickers again. “Good morning, Pearl, Cousin Darcy. It is wonderful to see the two of you in great health.”

“Morning, Dareios!” Pearl answer, a smile on her face, once again in high spirits. Darkrai just mumbles something that, with quite a lot of fantasy, could be interpreted as ‘Good morning to you too, Cousin Dareios’, but could just as well be nothing at all.

“So, how’s the bank going?” Pearl asks and Darkrai contemplates just letting his thoughts wander – whatever they will be speaking about, it cannot be of too much importance.

“Oh, as always, Pearl, as always – as long as there is money, there will be the bank,” Dareios answers and by now Darkrai knows that, if he had an actual way to smile with a mouth, he would do so.

“I mean… That does make sense,” she answers, laughing as he does.

However, the conversation is cut short before it can truly grow, without Darkrai having the chance to tune it out, by Magnezone and a just now arrived Dusknoir starting whatever important announcement they have to make. So it was him Magnezone was waiting for, was it not? Curses, Darkrai was hoping for one more day without that ghost around. He would take an entire week spent just with Dareios if he did not have to spend a day with Dusknoir for it.

… Probably. Dareios can certainly be… infuriating at times; but as of yet, he has proven much more enjoyable company than Dusknoir.

(That is not true, a small voice inside Darkrai’s head tells him, Dusknoir, when he made the alliance with you, when he travelled with Pearl and you, was perfectly fine company—

Darkrai silences that little voice)

“So, I’d like to get this meeting started!” Magnezone opens. “Our topic! The theft of multiple Time Gears!”

Really? This is what they came here for?

It is, as Magnezone just continues to recap everything they already know. And, alright, on a rational level, Darkrai can understand the reason for this – obviously not everyone has the same information on everything, so to get all of them on the same page is obviously rather smart. However, on an emotional basis, Darkrai is now incredibly bored. Instead of listening to whatever Magnezone is babbling on about, he flees into his thoughts, as usual.

And then he realizes that he should most definitely pay attention, because every bit of information can become important in the right hands (which are his).

Just as he tunes back in, Magnezone is looking at Dusknoir, and he says, “And the hero who saved Azelf and chased off Grovyle… That would be the great Dusknoir right here!”

Around him, the Pokémon burst into cheer and he cannot help the anger that courses through his body at this. He will plunge Dusnknoir and the rest of town into a never-ending nightmare once he does not need to fear influencing the timeline anymore. That is not wishful thinking. That is a fact.

But instead of outwardly showing his emotions, like a foolish Pokémon would do, he stays as he is and ignores everyone around him. And also acts as if he is interested in whatever it is Dusknoir now wants to tell them. Which is, at first, just another recap of the danger Grovyle poses. Darkrai barely keeps himself from yawning.

“There is another matter that is tied to all of this, an extremely important matter that I must share with you,” Dusknoir starts, suddenly seeming even more self-important, as if he is about to impart some amazing knowledge unto them. He will probably just recap something else, as everyone always seems to feel forced to do.

“First of, as some of you may have wondered…” the ghost continues, “Did I know Grovyle from before all this happened? The answer is yes, I do know him from before all of this.”

Huh. Now that, Darkrai did not necessarily expect Dusknoir to share. Although, did he not make this fact obvious in front of Pearl, Azelf and Darkrai, when he hurled insult after insult at Grovyle? And although he might expect Darkrai not to share it, he cannot be sure that Pearl and Azelf will do the same. Especially not Azelf.

So perhaps, sharing it before any rumours have the chance to emerge might just be the smartest course of action.

Obviously, his words cause a ruckus within the assembled crowd. While Darkrai does not feel the same, he just acts as surprised as he would under normal circumstances. Which is not very much, but honestly, the Pokémon of Trash Town know him somewhat by now, they know that anything more would just be fake.

“The reason for this… May be beyond your belief!” Ugh, these unnecessary theatrics, they are just so very annoying. “But it also happens to be the truth. Furthermore, if what I’m about to reveal isn’t stopped, calamity is certain! Therefore, I ask you to give me your undivided attention.”

These words make Darkrai stop. Dusknoir cannot be planning to admit that he is from… No. No, there would be no reason for this. Knowing Grovyle is one thing, but…

He must have come up with a better story, a story he is about to tell them now. Nothing else makes sense, does it?

As everyone waits with bated breath for whatever big reveal is about to come, Dusknoir makes a pause for dramatic effect.

Then, he nods to himself, as if happy with the attention he is now receiving and speaks up once again. “Grovyle… is a Pokémon that came here from the future.”

And suddenly, everyone once again starts talking to each other, looking left and right, horribly alarmed by what Dusnkoir just said. In his periphery, Darkrai can see Pearl turning towards him, probably wanting him to explain something, but he just stares intently at Dusknoir.

What is he trying to do? What does he hope to gain by admitting to this? He had a perfectly good lie going on already, why come out with the truth?!

The ghost, with a booming voice, talks over the others, who swiftly grow silent in the hopes to gain more knowledge. “In the world of the future, Grovyle will be a notorious criminal.”

(Hah, not as notorious as Darkrai! …Wait, is that something to be proud of?)

“To avoid capture in the future, he fled to this, the world of the past. After arriving in this time, Grovyle plotted… until he hit upon an utterly catastrophic plan.”

The crowd is hanging unto his every word, fools that they are, and Chatot, fully entranced, asks, “Wh-what was it?! What is his plan?!”

“It was nothing less…” Dusknoir answers, skilfully keeping the suspense high, “Than to cause the planet’s paralysis.”

Heh. Darkrai would laugh if he could – that is his plan, not Grovyle’s. Not that Dusknoir knows that.

… Well, he might know that a certain Pokémon, who caused him nightmares, claimed it as its plan. Which still would not change his words, Darkrai is sure.

It is still somewhat funny, and if he could, Darkrai would allow himself a laugh. However, he cannot do so, and—

Dusknoir is looking straight at him. What…?

Come on, he should not make it that obvious that Darkrai knows about Grovyle’s supposed plan already!

Or is he trying to tell him something else with this glance? He could not plan to use Darkrai’s supposed want of the dark world against him now, could he? Blast it! He should’ve never allowed himself to enter an alliance with that stupid ghost!

Darkrai stares back, defiantly, daring Dusknoir to say anything which could give Darkrai away. Well, if the ghost wants to make Darkrai take the fall for it, he will most certainly pull Dusknoir down with him.

“The planet’s… paralysis?” Chatot asks, breaking the tension as Dusknoir is forced to look away and explain, like the good Pokémon he definitely is.

“Yes. If a planet becomes paralyzed, all movement upon it ceases.” What truly enlightening words. Who would ever have guessed. Darkrai tries his best to not show his annoyance openly. “This is brought about by removing a Time Gear, whereupon the flow of time slows in its region. As many more are taken, time slows in an ever-larger area.”

As if. To completely stop the planet like this… Well, it is simply not possible. It has to be Temporal Tower that takes damage.

Not that Darkrai would know about that.

“And eventually, the planet’s movements stop entirely, and it reaches a state of total paralysis,” Dusknoir continues.

Which, once again, false. Out of curiosity, Darkrai glances towards Uxie and his siblings, and judging by their expressions, they notice that error in Dusknoir’s story as well. If only that could be used to accuse Dusknoir of deliberately trying to pull them unto the wrong path, but alas, Darkrai is sure that if it ever came to that, Dusknoir could simply claim that he actually thought that what he said was correct. Infuriating.

Still. The three of them seem to be just the slightest bit critical of what Dusknoir is saying.

It’s the town’s resident Teddiursa who asks the follow up question. “And if it is paralyzed… what happens to this world?”

Dusknoir even manages to seem regretful as he answers. “In a paralyzed world… No winds blow. The day never comes. There is no spring or summer, nor autumn or winter. It is a world… of unrelenting darkness. It would not be exaggeration to call it…”

A perfect world.

“…The complete ruin of the world.” Dusknoir ends his description dramatically, and even some sadness can be heard within his voice.

Once again, Darkrai looks towards the Lake Guardians. It is Uxie who stares straight back at him, even with his eyes closed. Darkrai told him about his supposed vision, of course, but he never mentioned the, well, perpetual darkness. If Uxie decides to confront him about it…

He can always claim that he would not want a dark world if time had stopped.

In the end, it is Azelf that stops Uxie from his wordless interrogation of Darkrai, by telling him something or the other. Uxie turns his gaze (if it can be called that) towards his two siblings, and they communicate amongst themselves.

That is when Darkrai finally notices the noise all around him – it seems everyone is once again talking, chattering, and just being horrified in general. As the voices grow louder, the noises more panicked, Dusknoir finally stops them by once again taking up the word.

“The way in which time has been going out of control lately is directly caused by the thefts of the Time Gears. And if more are stolen… then the world will end in ruin. And that is what Grovyle is trying to accomplish.”

Once again, murmurs grow, but one voice resounds louder than the others.

“Hey, hey! I have a question!” Corpish cries, “About you, Dusknoir, sir. Why do you know so much, Dusknoir, sir? I mean, I know that you are knowledgeable and wise, and I really respect you and all, but how would you know the future?”

Ah. So there is something akin to intelligence yet to be found. But still… What will Dusknoir do now? Will he tell them… That he also comes from the future?

“Of course, under normal circumstances, it is true, there is no way that I should know of these things. Still, I do know them, because… I, too…” The pauses he makes are only to get more attention, come on, that’s such a cheap trick— “… Am a Pokémon from the future.”

At first, there is an almost deathly silence, and then, cacophony.

“WHAT?!” someone cries, and another “No, you can’t be!” and another voice, “You are what?!”

From his left, his right, from behind him, there are voices, shouting their shock, shouting their opinions, shouting their disbelief. Darkrai is about to drown within them, to be overwhelmed; and he is almost about to turn around and flee no matter the repercussions, when the noise suddenly starts to die down.

As he looks at Dusknoir again, the ghost has raised his right arm, his open palm pointed toward the Pokémon in front of him – calling them to silence, Darkrai realizes.

And slowly, silence grows. Darkrai then allows himself to look to his left, for but a moment, at Pearl, who has her beak opened in astonishment – for how long, already? – and Dareios, who slowly sways from left to right, as if not sure what to make of this.

Or he is simply bored. Not even Giratina would truly be able to read that Pokémon.

“My objective is to capture Grovyle.” Dusknoir tells them when it is quiet again; and yes, that it sure is. “It is for that reason… that I came from the future. It is also why I know so very much about everything – I needed to know as much as possible to ensure his capture in this, to me, alien world.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything before?” Ursaring, Teddiursa’s brother, asks, and how amazing – this might be the second Pokémon to ask a good question today. Does this mean that they are now rapidly emptying their supply of semi-intelligent questions they can ask for the whole year? Because surely, two in a day is a new record.

“I… I’m sorry,” the ghost starts, and once again, Darkrai is amazed at his ability to seem so earnest. The stumble over his words just seems so very real, but how can Dusknoir just lower himself this much without batting an eye? Although, he has always just been someone’s henchman. Grovelling must come easier to him.

Dusknoir continues, not caring that Darkrai is, in a loathing way, complementing him where no one can hear, “I have felt truly terrible not saying anything. I’m sincerely sorry for not revealing my identity, and full of contrition.” Alright, this is laying it on a little thick.

“But… I was fearing that, if I had been open about my identity from the start, I would have not been taken seriously. And, even worse, that I might have alerted Grovyle to my presence, because I feared that there might be an accomplice of his in this town.” And at that, he looks at the assembled crowd, but most definitely, he looks at… Darkrai.

… What? But that makes no sense. They have an alliance! If he dares…

“So what changed?” Ursaring, this time, asks, “Why did you suddenly come out with the truth? If it even is the truth?”

Dusknoir sighs theatrically, but before he can answer, another voice rises.

“Dusknoir is, in regards to the future, telling the truth,” Uxie says, and Darkrai certainly does not imagine the surprised widening of the eye coming from the very one Uxie is defending right now.

“What?!” Someone cries, but a poisonous gaze thrown by Chatot from the sidelines makes them shut up immediately. Must have been a member of the guild.

Uxie looks first at the assembly, and then at Dusknoir. “Some… time ago, one of the guild’s members came to me, to share with me a vision they had had.”

… No. No! How dare he talk he about that! That was a lie that should have stayed between the two of them!

“In that vision, they saw a paralyzed world, just like the one Dusknoir described. At this time, Dusknoir and they had not ever met, so there is no chance that Dusknoir might have gotten them to say that. He is telling the truth about this catastrophic future.”

As has established itself as a pattern now, first there is silence, and then an explosion of voices.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about that?!”

“Who said that?!”

“Silence!” Magnezone, for once shouts, and the effect is immediate – in this silence, Darkrai fears, his rapid heartbeat might even be heard.

“At that point in time, we could not be sure whether it was a true vision, or just a nightmare; but now, it has been confirmed, and so I shared this knowledge with you. But I will not share the name of the one who had the vision, until they decide to come out, themselves.”

But unfortunately, the present Pokémon don’t just accept what he said – the first part, maybe; but their curiosity seems just too great to be curbed, and questions, as well as accusations, arise almost the same moment that Uxie stops speaking.

“But who was it?!”

“Someone had a vision?! Why did they only tell you?!”

“Come on, Uxie, tell us!”

This time, Officer Magnezone’s shout cannot stop the mumblings and shouts from coming. Darkrai looks towards Pearl, who just seems so awfully, awfully confused. And then her gaze changes, into something almost… fearful. Or maybe not quite fearful, but apprehending; and as Darkrai follows her gaze, he sees…

Dusknoir, looking intently at her.

Oh.

Of course.

And he realizes that Dusknoir will now draw the conclusion which he has tried not to allow him for so very long, that truly, he will believe that there is only a single conclusion to this, that Pearl must be the one he might think she as, and Darkrai cannot allow this, and—

“I had it,” Darkrai says, and then, louder, almost shouting, repeats, “I had the vision!”

As more and more eyes turn towards him, more and more voices fall silent, he decides that this is worth it, if he can just keep Dusknoir from drawing that one conclusion.

He looks at none of them, not even Uxie, not even Dusknoir, but rather into the distance between them, and he says, standing as tall as he can, “Uxie was talking about me. I had the vision, but I was not sure whether it was just a nightmare or something more. Uxie and I have known each other since before… all of this, and since he is the Legendary of Knowledge, I went to him to get council.”

As more silence is his answer, he decides to follow, for once, Dusknoir’s lead, and he visibly lets his shoulders slump, let’s himself grow just a little smaller.

“I did not want to worry anyone with, what I thought, might just be senseless worries; and Uxie thought the same, so we did not tell anyone about the vision.”

Before angry voices can grow loud again, as they are bound to do, Uxie takes up the word again. “What Darcy says is correct, and I thank him for having the bravery to tell all of you, even when you turned so very accusing just now. Until a few minutes, none of us thought much more of this vision than anyone else would have. We now know better and apologize.”

Darkrai is not sorry, but for the sake of this… situation, he is willing to go along with it. He knows how to keep his head on his shoulders, thank you very much.

“That is…” someone speaks up, but surprisingly, it is Wigglytuff who speaks the loudest and drowns out their voice.

“It’s okay, you two! We understand, yes we do!”

At first, no one else says anything, as if unsure whether they actually should talk, right now, but then, Chatot, eternal bootlicker of Wigglytuff, realizes what his boss wants. “Yes, indeed! We are not happy, but we understand!”

“Exactly!” Sunflora cries, and Bidoof goes even further, shouting, “Don’t feel bad about it!”

There are some more assurances, mostly from the direction of the guild, but Darkrai notices that even some of the shopkeepers shout them. They must really like Uxie, to be willing to include Darkrai in their assurances.

Finally, those die down again, and this time, Dusknoir speaks directly to Uxie and Darkrai. “Ah, you two, thank you so very much, from the bottom of my heart, for confirming the future I spoke of. I—”

“But why didn’t you share the truth with us, Dusknoir?” someone – Teddiursa again, actually, Darkrai realizes, interrupts him, making Darkrai wonder whether he misjudged the siblings previously. They certainly do not give Dusknoir a break, do they? Just for that reason, Darkrai already likes them.

For half a moment, Darkrai is sure, he can see annoyance in Dusknoir’s gaze; but as quickly as usual, it disappears, to never be seen by anyone who does not know that he is hiding it.

 “I realized that I had misjudged you, all of you.” And his gaze starts to sweep over everyone again. “None of you would ever work together with Grovyle, and I was wrong for ever fearing that any of you would do so. I cannot tell you how much regret I feel for that, and I can only hope that, maybe, you might have it in you to forgive me.”

… Now, Darkrai sometimes lays it on thick, he knows that. But Dusknoir seems to be obsessed with using far too many words to express his regret – which he surely does not actually feel. That is the sign of a bad liar, which Dusknoir is, unfortunately, not. So why do it in the first place? Does he have a reason for it, or is he merely losing his touch?

“There’s nothing to forgive!” Chatot suddenly crows, and soon, the rest of the town follows that sentiment.

“Yeah, you didn’t do anything wrong!”

“You totally did everything right, Great Dusknoir!”

“Don’t beat yourself up, it’s alright!”

Ugh. How Darkrai hates the… masses and their unending support of the traitorous ghost in their midst. Maybe… Maybe Dusknoir did not actually lie badly, he just lied in a way that these simpletons would immediately feel emotional about. Which…

… is so smart, Darkrai starts hating Dusknoir a little more for it.

Truly, if today’s assembly has proven anything to him, then that the Pokémon of this town are much too willing to forgive just about everyone.

“We should, instead, focus our anger on Grovyle!” Magnezone speaks up, loud enough to make himself heard even above the cacophony of supportive voices. Who now also agree with him.

“Yeah, that bastard is at fault for all of this!”

“We need to stop him!”

“It’s that evildoer at fault, not you!”

All of them are so annoying, so repetitive.

But as Darkrai throws Pearl a quick glance, he realizes that she seems not determined, like all the others, but rather… thoughtful. Maybe even something else, something… worse? Now that he thinks about it, he also did not hear her join into any of the other shows of support.

Did he hear her voice when everyone told him and Uxie that there is nothing to be sorry about?

… He does not know.

That is sub-optimal.

“We must somehow capture him!” Officer Magnezone cries, and of course, the town’s Pokémon are of the same opinion. Always so self-righteous, believing to always know good from bad. As almost all offer their help – Pearl is suspiciously silent, and Darkrai, of course, does not offer any help either – Dusknoir thanks them, seemingly incredibly earnest.

“Everyone, thank you so much. We as Pokémon…”

… What’s up with this wording?

“… must all work as one to capture Grovyle and put an end to his calamitous plot!”

Dusknoir really thinks these idiots are going to understand a word such as ‘calamitous’?

It is after a cheer goes through the town’s Pokémon that the three Lake Guardians start coming up with a plan to trick Grovyle into appearing and thus leading to his arrest.

There is nothing complicated about it, really – spread rumours that Azelf returned to the lake alone; but in truth his siblings and Dusknoir accompany him and together, they will apprehend Grovyle. Of course, that plan relies on Grovyle trying once again to steal the same Time Gear, believing Azelf alone to be weak enough to be taken on, which… Well, he might just be foolish enough to try that.

It is not the worst plan – if one does not mind putting themselves in the way of danger. It is therefore not a plan Darkrai would ever come up with.

But he already saved both Mesprit and Azelf, so if they once again want to throw themselves into danger, he will not stop them. He has done his dues.

However, as more and more Pokémon chime in, wanting to be included in the capture instead of simply spreading the rumours of how Azelf went back alone, Dusknoir makes one thing clear: While spreading rumours relies on the whole town, actually fighting and arresting Grovyle will be done solely by the Lake Guardians and Dusknoir.

Figures.

Of course, with the whole guild and some more add-ons, Grovyle would never show up, but Darkrai realizes that Dusknoir holding back everyone but the Lake Guardians has another reason: He wants to minimize the amount of Pokémon who could figure out Grovyle’s true motivations. Uxie, Mesprit and Azelf were already confronted and hurt by Grovyle, so even if he appealed to them, they would most likely not give him another chance; and Dusknoir himself obviously will ignore whatever Grovyle might try to say to pull his head out of the rapidly tightening noose.

It is quite smart. And Darkrai hates him for it, as usual.

At least he does not involve Darkrai in the plan – trying to help Grovyle the last two times was always… stressful, to phrase it, and if Darkrai does not have to do so in front of all three Legendaries, he is thankful for it. Mesprit and Azelf, while hurt, might not notice everything, but Uxie…

It is good that Darkrai is not included.

And then, finally, the meeting is concluded, and everyone goes their own way. Even Dareios just floats away merrily after a short farewell. Which is rather atypical him for him, but Darkrai will gladly take it.

Turning to Pearl, he looks at her for a few moments – she still seems to be quite thoughtful – but finally, their gazes meet, and she smiles. It is dishonest, but Darkrai makes no mention of it. “So, back to the guild, I guess?”

“Back to the guild,” Darkrai sighs and turns to do just that, when—

“Da-… Duskull. My siblings and I would like to talk with you, in private.”

… Great. Just great.

“With how much you feel the need for my company these last few weeks, I will soon have to start questioning your reasons for that, Uxie,” he answers, not in the mood for whatever the other might be planning.

Although Darkrai cannot see it, he has the feeling that Uxie rolls his eye. “Please, Dar-cy. It is important, and I know that you are aware of that.”

Darkrai groans, knowing fully well what Uxie might be trying to do. “Sure, alright. But do not make it take longer than is necessary. Chatot will be waiting for my return, surely.”

“I won’t,” Uxie assures, and starts to move out of the town, his siblings and Darkrai following behind…

And Pearl.

Seemingly noticing her, Uxie turns around. “Oh, Pearl. I am not… sure whether Darcy will want you with us for what we are about discuss.”

“Well, what are you going to discuss? I’m Darcy’s best friend, I’m sure I can hear whatever it is!”

Darkrai looks at Uxie. He would also like to know that.

For an inexplicable reason, Uxie seems… ashamed? Hesitant? “It is… It has something to do with Legendaries, but…”

He trails off. Darkrai is confused. Something with Legendaries?

“It is not my secret to tell,” he sighs, and suddenly, Darkrai understands. Cold ice washes over his body.

“You do not want me to—” he starts to work himself up, just to get interrupted by a defeated sounding Uxie.

“Yes, I do want that. My siblings need to know.”

“You said that you would not share it with them!”

“And I will not do so. But with these new developments, it is of the utmost importance that they are aware, and so, you will have to share.”

“That was not what we agreed on,” he hisses, only to get an unimpressed look as answer.

“And unfortunately, your part of the agreement became null some weeks ago.”

“That—, you—” He breaks off, realizing that not just Pearl, but also some of the idiots of Treasure Town are very obviously listening in. He huffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Let us go somewhere where we are uninterrupted.”

“So, can I come with you?” Pearl speaks up, and Darkrai shakes his head.

“No.”

“But I—”

“Pearl, please,” he starts, actually hating how well his desperation can be heard through the words. “Not today. One day, I will tell you what we are about to talk about, but for today, I need to keep it a secret.”

For a few seconds, she is silent, and Darkrai can see her going through multiple emotions – anger most definitely, what with her drawn together eyebrows, a little sadness as the eyebrows raise just a little, and some more he cannot name as quickly as they happen.

“You promise that you will tell me, later?”

“I promise,” he lies, “But I will be the one to decide when that ‘later’ arrives.”

She sighs. “Alright. I guess I’ll just tell Chatot why you’re not with me and, uh, see you later at the guild, then?”

He nods, and then, Uxie once again floats ahead, guiding him and his siblings away.

 

The four of them end up on the beach – it has truly proven itself as the best place to have a private conversation, as there is no place close enough where a Pokémon could hide and overhear something. Except if they were to hide beneath the sand. Which… is possible but not for anyone who would try to listen in on their conversation. Probably.

Besides, the ocean is turbulent today, and its big waves should make enough noise to at least hamper any attempt at eavesdropping.

Azelf and Mesprit, after a cursory glance around, look towards Uxie, questions obvious in their eyes. Before they can ask them, though, Darkrai’s favourite Legendary of the three starts talking. Actually, not really favourite at the moment. At the moment, he dislikes… Azelf the least, probably.

“There is a secret that the two of us share,” he puts his hand first on his own chest and then points it towards Darkrai, “Which I believe should also be told to the two of you.”

“A secret? But we never keep secrets from each other!” Mesprit exclaims and Azelf also nods vigorously. Obviously, they do not know their brother as well as they think they do.

“Normally, that would be true,” Uxie hurries to explain himself, something of a guilty tone to his voice, “However, it is not really my secret, just like Dar-, Darcy’s vision discussed earlier today was… And therefore, it is also not mine to tell. But with what Dusknoir just told us, some things have been proven; and I have realized that this secret, at least, needs to be shared between the four of us.”

He then throws Darkrai a meaningful gaze, and, well. Now is his chance to act like he does not understand what the other wants, and maybe get out of what he thinks Uxie wants from him.

“Just to clear everything up,” he starts, “You want me to tell them more about my vision—”

“No, about the other thing.” Uxie’s gaze is supremely unimpressed, but Darkrai will not give up so quick.

“’The other thing’ referring to… what, exactly?”

“You know what, Darcy. Please, do not make this more complicated than it has to be.”

“Well, how would I know what you are talking about? Contrary to you, I do not possess any telepathic powers, and you are, of course, aware, that my secret is of the very… delicate kind?”

Uxie sighs, and Darkrai is quite sure that it is in exasperation. Rude. “Yes, I am aware of both of these things. I do not change my opinion, and I also know that you know of the necessity of sharing it.”

“I would not describe it as a necessity, per se. More like you pressuring me into telling something your siblings were, until now, too stupid to realize—”

“Hey!”

“You fuc—”

“Dark-, Darcy!” Uxie cries, sounding actually somewhat angry, “Would you please refrain from insulting my siblings? And would you please also stop this infuriating talk? You know that we need to do things together, and I am giving you the chance to tell what you have been hiding with your own words—”

“You are forcing me to tell it, or you would break your promise!” he shouts, affronted. This is going too far!

“Because we have a criminal on hand whose very goal it is to paralyze the planet! If that forces the four of us to act together, than it has to be so, and my siblings need to be included in that alliance, with the entire knowledge!”

Darkrai huffs and crosses his arms, to look at the ocean. The waves do not break at a great height, but they are drawn out long, which makes them quite dangerous. Just one has to catch you and draw you with it, and if you are not a strong swimmer, you will find yourself far from the coast, only able to get back to land with the heaviest difficulty. Many die of exhaustion before that.

Maybe, he ponders, what Uxie is asking him to do – incredibly dangerous, with no real pay-off besides his life. Or maybe, answering is what will keep him alive.

“I am really starting to question what’s going on right now,” Azelf suddenly speaks up, prompting a sardonic laugh from Mesprit.

“Just starting?” she asks, and even without looking, Darkrai can see the smirk on her face at that idiotic question.

“Yeah, well,” Azelf starts, “If our brother kept something hidden from us, it must be something big. So I didn’t want to question it, because it will be something weird, anyways.”

Mesprit laughs. “Yeah, okay, I get that. So what’s this big secret, now? Is Mr. Hissy Fit, I don’t know, the ex-accomplice of Grovyle or something?”

Darkrai barks out a surprised laugh at that and turns to stare at her. It is not that what Mesprit said was so funny, but just – he, an accomplice of Grovyle? If only he knew! This entire situation is becoming so very hard to manage, and Uxie just wants to make it even more complicated, does he not?

“What? What’s so funny? Don’t tell me I was right?!”

“No, you were not,” Uxie says, the same moment that Darkrai tells her, “As if I’d ever be anyone’s accomplice.”

Mesprit’s eyes narrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Uxie sighs. “Please, just tell them.”

Darkrai rolls his eye. “Now that you have successfully manoeuvred me into situation where, even if I just turned tail right now, your siblings would stalk me until they found the answer themselves, I guess I will have to. But before I do, I need your promises,” He looks at both Mesprit and Azelf at those words, “That you will not, under any circumstances, share this knowledge with anyone.”

“I mean… Shouldn’t that depend on whatever you are about to tell us?” Azelf asks, scratching his chin as he does.

“Yeah,” Mesprit continues, “Like, if you actually are Grovyle’s accomplice I definitely won’t keep it secret.”

“I am not,” Darkrai says, starting to get even more annoyed than he already is. “Besides, do you mistrust your brother so much as to think he would keep something like that secret?”

“I’d not think he’d keep anything secret,” Mesprit huffs, a pout directed in Uxie’s direction. “But today’s happenings have proven something different.”

Uxie’s response to that is said in a measured voice. “I said my reasons for that at the meeting already. But beside that, please, just promise it to him. He is right, it should rather not be shared with others.”

“What should not be shared with others?” Mesprit asks, frustration clear in her voice. “Before I don’t know, I’m not gonna promise anything!”

“Well, then you will simply not get to know,” Darkrai says, his annoyance, illogically, rising even more.

“Ugh, whatever!” Azelf cries, “I promise, alright? And Mesprit will do so, too!”

Mesprit, at first, just continues pouting, but finally deigns to answer, “Yeah, well, I guess I can promise it too. Unless you are Grovyle’s accomplice, then I will tell it and none of you can stop me.”

Once again, Darkrai rolls his eye. “How lucky for me, then, that I am not. No, in truth,…”

And he makes a pause. Mesprit is about to speak up, but Azelf sushes her, and Darkrai remains silent just a little longer – just a little longer still… Almost there…

Perfect. Now it was a truly dramatic pause.

“I am Darkrai,” he answers, careful to keep his voice calm.

 “What?!”

“No way!”

It is Uxie who tries to calm her siblings. “It is the truth. I have known for quite some time.”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense,” Azelf says, his eyes nonetheless betraying that he is trying to imagine it.

Mesprit, much more accustomed to jumping to illogical conclusions than he, has no qualms about accepting such claims. “You would work together with that guy?!” Mesprit shouts, and just a little louder and even Wigglytuff in his guild should be able to hear her.

“We do not work together,” Darkrai clarifies in an even, quiet voice. They should know that he never works together with anyone – especially not Uxie, of all Pokémon. Might as well work together with Cresselia, if it came so far.

“We really don’t, mostly,” Uxie adds and continues, “Besides, he is not up to his usual shenanigans. Truly.”

“Not up to his usual stuff?” Azelf asks, narrowing his eyes.

Uxie shakes his head. “I understand if you have trouble believing him, if he claims that; but believe me when I say it in his stead: He is not out to hurt anyone. For once, he is trying to do the right thing.”

Darkrai keeps himself from rolling his eye. Why does everyone always think that, just because they might be right, they can just talk so rudely about him? It truly is the folly of all Pokémon that believe themselves to know right from wrong, it seems.

Mesprit huffs. “That guy? Sure. I’ll believe it when Groudon and Kyogre stop hating each other’s guts.”

“Or when Giratina leaves the Distortion World,” Azelf adds, and looks intently at Uxie, “So why do you believe him?” His question, surprisingly enough, sounds serious. Not an accusation, but an actual question.

However, there might be something like… frustration in the way that Uxie starts to hold himself, confronted with his siblings’ distrust. He is new to that particular club, of course.

“Because he has proven to me time and time again that he is willing to act on his change! Did he not save both of you from Grovyle? Did you not see how he acts with Pearl, how they are actually friends?” By the end, his words sound like a hiss. Azelf and Mesprit share wide-eyed glances.

“I’m sorry to tell you that, brother,” Mesprit speaks up, interrupting whatever Azelf was about to say, “But this guy,” she shoots Darkrai the dirtiest glare yet, “Is a master manipulator and liar. So even if it may have looked genuine, that doesn’t mean that it was.”

“He almost got himself killed for you, Mesprit! If he had not been, I would no longer have any siblings!” Uxie now shouts, making both his siblings take a cautionary step back. Even Darkrai floats a little away from Uxie, and he is the one being defended right now.

For a while, only the sound of the waves breaking, accompanied by a slight breeze, can be heard. Darkrai breaks the silence in a try to get Uxie to calm down a little. “I mean, perhaps I should not have—”

“No more words!” Uxie hisses, “You saved my siblings, and they should finally realize that!”

Darkrai falls silent, not sure how he should even react to Uxie’s… whatever.

“I mean…” Mesprit then mumbles, most likely to herself, “It did feel genuine.”

“What?” Azelf turns towards her.

“What?” Mesprit asks back.

“You just murmured something. What was it?”

“I… I mean, so, I didn’t put all of my attention on him, alright! But the few times that I did, his positive feelings for Pearl seemed genuine. Just like his hate for me did, which actually makes a lot more sense, now.”

“His hate for you…?”

A genuine liking of Pearl? Laughable!

Mesprit grins in response to Azelf’s question. “What, didn’t I tell you? So, the first time I meet this guy, thinking he’s just some Duskull, out to steal my Time Gear—”

“You thought I was Grovyle’s accomplice.” Darkrai’s deadpan interjection goes ignored. He hates her. He really, really hates her.

“I just feel such an intense hate from him. Like, wow, never felt quite so much hate from many others, and there was no reason for it. I thought he might just hate everyone, maybe, but as I said, not Pearl.” She laughs. “But since he’s Darkrai, the actually makes sense.”

Darkrai huffs. “My hate is a result of your behaviour.” Acting like she is not at fault for it, acting like she understands his feelings—

“As you’ve been telling me for the last, what, two millennia? And I will keep telling you that it is actually a mark of your character, not mine.”

Darkrai snorts. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Well, ignoring what the grumpypants said, I can tell his emotions. And he, for some reason, actually likes Pearl? Like, wouldn’t have expected a jerk like him—"

“That is quite enough of your rudeness!” Darkrai interrupts her, not entirely able to keep himself from angering at her words. Not just the insults, of course, but the insinuation that she knows his feelings! As if he liked Pearl! He is just particularly good at playing the part!

“For example, now he’s clearly angry!” Mesprit groans, “And it makes sense! But before… He just didn’t have the emotions of a mean Pokémon bent on destroying the world!”

“Perhaps because I am not.”

He definitely is. He is just good at… hiding that. And he is, currently, not trying to destroy the world, anyways.

“I was confused like you,” Uxie speaks up to explain, exasperation clear in his voice, “But… The knowledge that I have, at this point in time, tells me that, counter-intuitively, he can be trusted at the moment.”

“But then… why would you hide your true identity?” Azelf asks, finally addressing Darkrai personally. “And why would you not want the world Dusknoir described to us? He said that it was, uh…”

“A ‘world of unrelenting darkness’,” Uxie cites, his memory as always perfect.

“Yeah, exactly! That sounds like something you’d like,” Azelf accuses, and this time, he does not try to keep the venom out of his voice.

“Because you know me so well that you would know exactly what I want, do you not?” Darkrai hisses, about to reach the end of his rope—

And then realizes that enmity will really not help him out right now. Of course, he could knock the three of them out, if it came to a battle,… Probably. But what would he do after it? Kill them? That is something he… really does not want to do, for various reasons. Keep them in an endless nightmare? But enough Pokémon noticed the four of them leaving together. Enough overheard that they would talk with each other. If only he returned from that…

No, enmity will not help him now.

He sighs, loud enough for them to hear. Shall they interpret it as they like, and hopefully in a disappointed way.  “I would not want a world like this. Oh, Dusknoir’s description alone does sound enticing. But an unmoving world, nothing within it alive except for the most twisted individuals, like Grovyle? No, I would not like that.”

“Moreover,” Uxie starts, “Do not forget that Darkrai saw parts of that future in a vision.”

“Exactly,” he agrees, and adds, “Maybe I could live with a paralyzed world, but a crumbling Temporal Tower? I am not mad.”

“Yeah, about that,” Azelf asks, “Are you really sure Darkrai wasn’t lying to you? Because if anyone had visions, I would not think that it would be him.”

“Unfortunately for you, it was me who had that dream,” he hisses, sounding more annoyed than he actually is, for appearance’s sake. It is not as if he would ever start to truly feel defensive about something if it was a lie first.

“Well, how would you know which dreams show the future and which are just fantasy?” Mesprit, the utter buffoon, ask, “Was it not you who just told us that you do not possess telepathic abilities? But suddenly, we should believe you that you can tell normal dreams from prophetic ones?!” She is just intent on hating him, is she not? And then she blames him for hating her in turn.

Besides, that question is truly stupid. Of all Pokémon, who else should know nightmares the best?

Seemingly noticing her stupidity, for once, Mesprit hurriedly continues her idiotic accusations. “Or was it just because you did not create it yourself that you knew it had to be something different?!”

He narrows his eyes and keeps his voice very quiet when he answers. “Or maybe I knew, because after millennia of nightly bad dreams, I can tell whether my own are fantasy or not.” Even he can hear the iciness in his voice, but he does not mind.

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” she immediately cries, “Why would you give yourself nightmares?!”

The moment she says it, a strange calm washes over Darkrai and everything seems to become dull and quiet. From the widening of Azelf’s eyes and the way that Mesprit suddenly starts rubbing her arms, they feel it too.

“Why would I give myself nightmares?” he asks, completely calm. She cannot truly believe that he does not have them, can she?

“I mean it’s… uh… a good question?” Azelf says, sounding very unsure about that ‘good question’.

They… do they truly not know? He had assumed that each and everyone of the Legendaries did. Azelf at least should know!

He looks past the two fools towards Uxie.

“You know, do you not?”

Uxie nods. “I do. I thought they did too, but…” he trails off, unsure.

“Know what?!” Mesprit cries, “What are you two talking about?!”

“Let me explain something to you, Mesprit, Azelf.” He does not raise his voice. He does not need to. “Since the day that I was born, for every night since then, I have been haunted by nightmares. Just because I bring them upon others does not mean I am spared from them.”

Mesprit opens her mouth, as if to say something, but closes it after some thought (if she can even think).

Azelf opens it too, closes it, and opens it again. “So you… can’t actually stop yourself from having bad dreams?”

“I cannot,” Darkrai clarifies one last time, and then, he looks away; because living with that reality and admitting it out loud seem to be two different things, at least emotionally.

“I…” Azelf starts, trails off, and then attempts to speak anew. “Well, I, uh… Do you know how weird it is to hear Darkrai’s voice coming from what seems to be a Duskull?”

… What.

“I-I just mean, just the way you said it, you really sounded like, well, uh, you, I guess, but with that different body, what is that even, is that an illusion or, well, just—Forget it.”

“No, Azelf’s got a point,” Mesprit throws in her two cents, “It’s really, really weird.”

Uxie breathes out heavily through his nose, as if to stop himself from actually snorting, and adds, “With that, the two are right. It is quite a strange experience.”

Darkrai rolls his eye. “Wonderful. This observation just furthered our talk in what way, exactly?”

There is a tiny snicker, and a “Oh wow, now that I actively listen for it, it’s so strange,” but luckily, the supposed humour of this situation vanishes quickly enough, when Azelf speaks up again.

“What you said, about your nightmares, is…” He takes a deep breath. “We didn’t know, and it honestly explains a lot! I…” Here, Azelf sighs and looks towards the ocean, just as Darkrai had done before.

Finally, he looks at Darkrai again and continues. “I think Mesprit and I treated you kind of… badly. Not every time, especially not when you did one of your stupid plans to spread misfortune, but like, right now. You’re really trying to help, aren’t you? And I get why my brother trusts you, and I think… I can trust you too. For now.”

This entire speech feels so heartfelt, so genuine that even Darkrai starts to feel… weird. As if he did not deserve it, but obviously, he does! They did treat him badly! But to get these words for an act, when he would want them to be meant for the actual him—

No. No, what is he thinking?! Azelf’s words must have made him sappy, too!

This just proves that… that his plans are going great. Both Uxie and Azelf trust him, might even defend him in front of others if some of his plans came to light – as long as he made it seem as if it was necessary to keep time running, of course. They might even be used as more stones on this playboard he has made his life into.

Azelf trusting him proves nothing to Darkrai but his own manipulative genius.

Then, Azelf looks over at Mesprit and Darkrai follows his gaze. Her mouth is currently open, but no sound passes her lips. Then, she violently shakes her head.

“W-Well, that still doesn’t explain why you would disguise yourself and live besides normal Pokémon!” she cries, “Aren’t they normally, how did you put, beneath your dignity?”

Darkrai keeps back a grimace. So, perhaps, he might have done so, even more than once; and he might still think so. But Mesprit pointing it out this bluntly is really in rather bad faith, is it not? Besides, she is obviously fighting a losing battle. Her brothers already trust him, and nothing she says will change that as long as he acts like he is trying to do the ‘right’ thing.

Really, if he had known how quickly he would get support if he just claimed that… Some of his past plans might have looked vastly different.

“Perhaps normally they would be,” he starts, cautious of what he says next, “But for now, it is necessary. So that the future you were told about today does not happen.”

“Great, now you’re speaking in riddles,” Mesprit huffs, rolling her eyes.

He is honestly feeling the urge to bodily harm her in some way, but he holds back.

“What Darkrai is trying to explain is that through his vision, he also got to know that Pearl is one of the keys to stopping the… well, let us call it an apocalypse,” Uxie explains.

Mesprit looks to her right, not willing to meet anyone’s eyes. “Yeah, sure. And we should believe that he’s telling the truth why, again?”

Azelf speaks up. “Mesprit, you said it yourself, his feelings—”

“I know! I know it, alright! And I hate it, because it doesn’t make sense, because he has always been unwilling to change before! Because the world that could happen sounds exactly like something he’d want! But his feelings toward it tell me that he absolutely does not want it, and it doesn’t make any sense, but he still hates me and the other Pokémon here, and that doesn’t make any sense at all!!” She’s floating agitatedly from left to right while crying out all of that, so loud that Darkrai is starting to get uncomfortable. What if someone heard? What if Dusknoir heard?

The truth behind her words aside – he does not plan on changing himself anytime soon, and a dark world is something he wants. Just not that particular one. So this might be, most likely, where the confusion comes from.

“Besides, there are holes in his story!” she shouts, and of course there are, he came up with it in a matter of minutes and hasn’t had the chance to come up with other lies to patch them up!

But he does not show his alarm at even Mesprit noticing them, and instead, as calmly as he can, tries to ask, “And what would they be?”

“You’re not weak!” she shouts.

… This is true, of course, but why would it be important?

“And still, you lost to Grovyle! If you were truly a Duskull, that’d be believable, but with you being you, it doesn’t! Maybe you are actually working together with him!”

“Mesprit!” Uxie cries out, for once sounding somewhat angered, “That’s enough! You need to calm down.”

“I don’t!” she cries back, “You just need to realize that whatever he’s planning, he is lying to us!”

“And how would I be lying to you, exactly?” Darkrai asks, annoyance clear in his voice – he stopped trying to hide it what feels like an eternity ago, what with Mesprit just being so very, very annoying. Why can she not simply be like her siblings and decide that his story is good enough for her? Everything was going too smoothly, was it not? He should have expected this. He continues, trying to perhaps salvage the situation. “Maybe it would be possible for me to lie to your siblings, but did you not say yourself that my feelings were not dishonest?”

Mesprit actually hisses at him. Hisses!

“You are a liar. You have always been. Who’s to say you haven’t found a way to project wrong feelings towards me?”

And that, once again, makes him snap at her, “Oh, of course I must be! Leave it to you to know my entire personality, with such detail that you would be able to tell how I must have always been! How much time did you spend around me, again, to come to that conclusion?!”

“I don’t need a lot of time to figure out that you’re a manipulative deceiver and that you’re not going to change!”

“So you will just rely on hearsay to form your opinions? Great to know that the oh-so-knowledgeable Mesprit will just act on other’s opinions, even when confronted with concrete proof for things being different!”

“I don’t need to figure anything out about Pokémon who hate me for simply existing!”

“You believe that I feel hate for you, but not that I might feel differently towards others?!” He does not even know what he is trying to tell her, anymore – he knows that he does not like Pearl, and she knows it as well. But her knowing it, saying it out loud just… infuriates him so very, very much.

“I believe that you’re a liar and you wouldn’t just work against a world of darkness if you did not have secret reasons!”

“Mesprit, enough!” shouts… not Uxie, this time, but Azelf. “Not everything Darkrai does is evil, and not everything we do is just! Accept it!”

“He’s deceiving you, how can’t you see it?!”

“Or maybe, you are deceiving yourself, because even if you claim that he hates you, you actually just hate him!”

“I-!” Mesprit starts, breaks off, takes some agitated breathes, and then starts anew, “I don’t!”

“You might,” Uxie states, his voice calm, “And I am sorry that it came to be like this. None of us should ever have come into position where we considered hate for each other an acceptable feeling.”

Darkrai huffs and rolls his eye. “Sure. Tell that to all the others. Mesprit’s reaction is just as almost everyone else’s would be.”

“And I deeply regret it,” Uxie says, intently staring at him, as Azelf nods and also looks at him with determination in his eyes. “And so do I.”

Mesprit, meanwhile, averts her eyes, what might be a pout on her face. “Well,” she finally says, “You don’t have to worry that I’m gonna tell anyone who you are, as long as you don’t do some fu-, screwed up shi-, stuff. Unlike you, I’m not a backstabber.”

“Does it make you feel better about your own failings to constantly insult me?”

“Darkrai. Mesprit. Enough,” Uxie speaks up, and well, aright. Just this once, Darkrai will oblige the other. He is not in the mood for more arguments, anyways. Once again, all of them grow silent. It is an uncomfortable kind of silence, even for Darkrai.

When it becomes too much, he speaks up. “To get back to the topic at hand. My feelings are honest in this matter, Mesprit, no matter what you want to believe. At least I will know that this is the truth.”

Mesprit squints her eyes, staring at him, probably debating whether she should say anything, continue their argument, but in the end decides to focus on something else. “You still haven’t answered how Grovyle knocked you out.”

“I mean, that’s true,” Azelf adds, “I know that you generally prefer to run instead of fight, but my sister’s right. You aren’t weak. And still, you got defeated by Grovyle.”

“… So did you,” he says after a short moment and grins on the inside at their widening eyes. “You have felt his strength. He is not to be underestimated. Which… I am loathe to admit it, but I… may have done so the first time.”

“Sure,” Mesprit say, rolling her eyes once again.

“Do you rather think I would willingly let myself be knocked out?” he asks her, careful to keep his absolute loathing of her out of his voice. Oh, she might still be able to pick it up, as the being of emotions, but he does not care right now. Why does she have to make it so difficult?

Finally, Mesprit’s mien changes, from the scowl that was previously on her face to a grin, then an open smile. “You would absolutely not,” she says, “You’re too arrogant for that.”

… He might just—

“So you, almighty Darkrai, managed to get knocked out by a Grovyle!” She laughs.

….. Death is but a slow process. Would accelerating hers therefore truly be a crime?

“Oh, he’s feeling downright murderous!” she shrieks with laughter, holding her stomach and wonderful. Just splendid. Great that she thinks it funny when he plans her murder.

At least she does not think him to be an enemy anymore, it seems. Else, she would probably not react in this way. Or maybe she would. He has only experienced enmity from her for such a long time that he is somewhat unsure how she acts when that is absent. Is it absent, even? Probably not.

Worse still is that even Azelf is snickering along.

It is only Uxie who remains quiet. Good for him. Once Darkrai enacts his future plans for a dark world, he may just grant him the kindest death of the three of them.

 (He ignores the disgusting taste that the idea of such a dark world, and the deaths it would lead to, leaves in his mouth)

Once Mesprit finally calms down, Darkrai tries to further explain himself. He is not weak, after all, so he cannot have them think it so. “Under this disguise, I lack certain powers. Moreover, I can’t use certain attacks, which would lead to some questions. It is therefore harder for me to win a normally easy fight.”

Neither Mesprit nor Azelf start to laugh, which he counts as good. They do exchange glances with each other, Uxie included.

“With this disguise, you mean an illusion, right?” Azelf asks, “I mean, that’s the only thing which makes sense, but I’ve been wondering about it ever since you told us who you truly are. Or did you somehow find a way to actually turn yourself into a Duskull? Because, I mean, some Ghost Types can possess bodies which lack a soul, but can anyone possess Ghost Types? Not that you are even a Ghost Type, so that wouldn’t really make sense.”

Now, Darkrai does not think that Azelf, or any of his siblings, have any reasons to know about his absolute genius,…

But then again, it is not like he had the chance to talk about how truly marvellous this illusion is until now, and he blames the desire to do so on his embarrassingly honest answer.

“An illusion. And no, it is not truly related to dreams in any way.”

“An actual illusion? Oh wow, that’s impressive!” And Azelf sounds actually… impressed. “So, is it just based on sight? But no, wait, I can’t see a shadow at all,” he then continues, “And you are standing on your legs right now, correct? Because I can’t even see impressions in the sand of them. Is it very draining on your power?”

Darkrai grins. “It is… unfortunately quite draining, yes. And it is mostly based on sight, but also touch, to a certain degree, or some of the other Pokémon would’ve noticed either my disproportionate body size or hair by now. Moreover, I have actually not just illusioned myself, but also, to the slightest degree the area surrounding me, but in a way which—”

“Alters other’s impression of your immediate surroundings? Oh, wow, that’s really cool! And you said touch, as well? In a way so that others just ignore the somewhat, uh, wrong touch they might get, or—”

A cough stops him in his rambling tracks; said cough having come from Uxie.

“As elated as I am with your two’s discussion, there are still some other things I think should be addressed before we turn towards such matters.”

Azelf lets out an embarrassed laugh and scratches his cheek. “Yeah, sorry, you’re right! We got carried away!”

“And we noticed,” Mesprit says in a deadpan voice and then turns towards Darkrai. “So, we should trust you, huh?”

“I would have thought we had already gone over that part,” he answers, annoyed. Had they not gone over this point, basically, in length before?

“Just making sure,” she says. “Now, don’t think all of your past deed are forgiven because of this!” She looks at him with, what he assumes, is supposed to be a threatening glare. “But, I’ll accept that, this once, you’re trying to be helpful.”

“Should I thank you for that?” he asks back, not even trying anymore to hide his annoyance. She can feel it anyway.

“That’d be great!”

“Too bad, because I will not do so.”

Mesprit laughs. “As expected, then. Well, to finally get to the important bits,” her face grows serious – or as serious as she can ever look – again.

“Have we not discussed them, already?” Darkrai asks, only to be thrown a glance not only by Mesprit, but also by Azelf and Uxie as well.

“The important bits being that, for one, we now know who you are,” Azelf says, followed by Mesprit, “What you are trying to do – mostly,” Mesprit adds, “But we do still have to decide on the path forward,” Uxie closes.

Darkrai hates it whenever they do this.

“What is there to decide on? You have already made a plan together with Dusknoir that is likely to succeed. You will catch Grovyle, Dusknoir will take him back to the future, and the paralyzing of the planet will never come to pass.”

“Of course,” Uxie says, “But after some consideration, we thought that it might be best if you and Pearl would also join us in this endeavour.”

Wait, when did they—

Ugh. They must have used telepathy, while being right next to him. Darkrai hates when they do that, it is so very inconsiderate. Still, they seem to be waiting for an answer, and he knows exactly what his answer will be.

“No,” he says.

“No?” Uxie asks.

“No,” Darkrai repeats.

“Why not?” Azelf stares at him with wide eyes. As does Mesprit. Uxie’s eyes are, as always, closed. Luckily.

“Your plan might be good enough for you three and Dusknoir, but from my point of view, it is too dangerous to be included in.”

“Too dangerous? But still, you would let us do it?”

“Are any of you under an illusion that constantly drains a big part of your energy? Or do you have to hide your true identity, because you know that you will, without doubt, be painted as a villain if you do not? No? I did not think so.”

“Oh come on, don’t act like you are suddenly so weak!” Mesprit cries. Having her around is such a bother. Especially since he does not want to admit to being weak, but he might just have to do so, or else, they will truly want him to fight by their side to apprehend Grovyle. And really, while he has accepted that he will not be able to help the Grass Type much more, anymore, he knows that, at some point in time, he will most likely have to get on the others’ good side. He does not want to ruin his chances.

“Mesprit,” he therefore carefully enunciates, “At the moment, I cannot even enter anyone’s nightmares. I, Darkrai, cannot enter anyone’s dream. That is how draining this illusion is on me.”

Her eyes widen.

“Wait, what?” Azelf spits out, “You’re kidding, right?”

“Oh, I am quite sure that Mesprit knows that this was not a lie.”

Mesprit groans loudly. “He’s weak. He’s really weak right now!”

The three share a long gaze with each other. Probably talking, in front of him, about him; again. How rude.

“Well,” Uxie finally speaks up. “Thank you for sharing this with us, Darkrai. In this case, I think it would truly be best for you to remain here. Do you think that Pearl--?”

He interrupts. “Pearl is quite extraordinary. However, she is also a Water Type and, more importantly, she is a child. A real child. So, no, I think not.”

“Ah,” Uxie sighs, “Then, we think that it would be safest that the two of you simply stay and spread rumours, like the others. I am sure that Dusknoir and the three of us will manage to stop Grovyle on our own.”

“Yes, I am sure that you believe so.”

Mesprit rolls her eyes, but goes ignored. Uxie, instead, continues. “Besides the spreading of rumours… Might you, perhaps, keep an eye out for anything that might be of interest? Dusknoir’s fear that Grovyle might have an accomplice, while not proven until now, does not seem to be an unbased fear.”

“Yes, yes, of course I will. What do you think I have been doing for the last months?”

“Been a huge pain in the—”

“Mesprit!” Azelf cries, lightly slapping her on the head in a way which might be a friendly sibling relationship thing. Darkrai wouldn’t know about those, obviously.

“Thank you, Darkrai,” Uxie says, expertly ignoring his more rambunctious siblings.

“Yeah, thank you!” Azelf adds, a grin on his face.

Mesprit just pouts, making Darkrai decide that, yes, he has had quite enough of all of them today. Best to… well, not cut it short, it is far too late for that.

“Anything else you need to bother me with, then?” he asks, which only leads Azelf to laugh, Uxie to smile, and Mesprit to huff. There went Darkrai’s carefully created reputation, it seems. It is somewhat impressive how quickly they felt comfortable around him once they believed to be on the same side.

The three than share a gaze, and all shake their heads. “No, not really,” Uxie admits. “Just… be careful, even if you will not confront Grovyle directly again.”

“Things can always go wrong, yes, I know,” Darkrai says, crossing his arms anew.

And then, suddenly, a horrible thought crosses his mind. What if Dusknoir—

What if, during their horribly thought out plan, Grovyle managed to tell any of the Legendaries the truth about the future and Dusknoir? He did not seem inclined to do so, before, but what if Dusknoir is the Pokémon needed to be added into the equation for him to finally turn to others for help?

And if the three of them got to know something they should not, would Dusknoir—

“Darkrai? Did something come to your mind?” one of the three asks – Darkrai does not even know who it was.

He does not like them, truly, but… if anything happened to them…

“Be careful,” he tells them, because there is not much else he can do. “Grovyle is dangerous, of course, but—” He breaks off. It is not as if he can actually tell them that Dusknoir is the one trying to have the planet’s paralysis happen! Because then he would also show that he knew more, which he did not share; and that would ruin all the work he did just now.

“But?” Azelf prompts, and Darkrai grimaces. What should he say?

“Are you trying to say that there’s someone else dangerous out there?” Mesprit asks, which actually comes somewhat close to the truth, for once.

“… In a way,” he starts, and then is not sure on how to continue.

It is, as usual, Uxie who puts two and two together correctly.

“Are you worried about Dusknoir?”

Darkrai grimaces even more. “Do not interpret my words as, well, trying to sow discord. Nothing of what I am about to say is… confirmed, to be clear,” he carefully starts, “But there is just a certain… feeling I get from his actions which I do not like.”

“You think he might be hiding more things than what he told us today?” Mesprit asks, for once surprisingly perceptive.

Darkrai, hesitantly, nods. “The fact alone that he hid his origins, as well as his knowledge of Grovyle, which he still did not share for so long,… It does not seem completely logical to me; even if he feared that there might have been an accomplice.”

Slowly, Uxie and Azelf nod to themselves, and Mesprit stares off into the distance.

Then, Mesprit, very quietly, states, “There are some emotions I felt from him which did not… entirely add up, I think.”

All four of them fall silent, until Azelf self-assuredly throws his hand on his chest. “Well, we’ll have to be careful anyways, so being extra careful shouldn’t be much of a problem!” He smiles, but even Darkrai can see the doubts hidden behind it.

Maybe he should not have told them. Because Dusknoir is beloved by the entire town, because he came to Azelf’s aid, because he will be the one ensuring that the plan works as it should. But still, if Dusknoir is even slightly as strong as Grovyle, then none of the three would be a match – unless they actively tried to kill him.

And the fact that none of them ever tried to do so when confronted with Darkrai as their adversary proves to him that they would not do so when confronted with Dusknoir.

“Thank you for sharing your observations,” Uxie says, quietly, and just as quietly, Azelf and even Mesprit, although she with just a hum, share that statement.

“Be careful,” Darkrai repeats, after trying and failing to come up with anything new for it.

He gets two and a half reassuring smiles, and for once does not try to tell himself that they are disdainful.

 

“Oh, Duskull, if you could please wait a moment?” a deep voice calls out to him, just when he is about to take the first step up towards the guild. Pearl did not suddenly go through a voice change, did she?

How unfortunate.

Keeping his annoyance out of his gaze, Darkrai turns to the one who just called out. “Dusknoir,” he acknowledges, and then, deciding that, perhaps, if he initiates a conversation, Dusknoir will not say whatever he wants to, he asks, “Are you on the way to the guild, as well?”

Dusknoir smiles, ignoring the few Pokémon gathered behind him – perhaps he talked with them, previously. Some of them, Darkrai recalls, were at this morning’s assembly “I was, but then I saw you approaching. Would you have some time to spare, to speak about something?”

Making a last attempt of getting out of this conversation, Darkrai responds, “Pearl is currently in the guild, as far as I am aware.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, there’s no need to disturb her! It is nothing of that much importance!” And that tells Darkrai, that it is exactly of ‘that much importance’, if not even more. And that it is also something not meant for Pearl to hear.

Figures. Dusknoir did want to talk some more when they first decided to… ally themselves, and Darkrai was quite talented at evading him every time a chance for it might have presented itself before.

But now, in front of witnesses, there is really not much he can do, is there? Ugh, is it not enough that he already had that horrible talk with the Lake Guardians?

“I understand,” he states in answer, still aware of the other Pokémon watching their interaction.

“Wonderful!” Dusknoir exclaims, false happiness in his voice, as usual. Or maybe he’s actually happy at finally having tagged Darkrai down, who knows. “Let’s go somewhere else, then,” he continues, “We wouldn’t want to hold up anyone going to the guild, after all.”

The Pokémon behind him shuffle, caught in their attempts to listen in on their conversation; and one even bravely attempts to say, “Don’t worry, we won’t share it,” but is silenced by someone standing beside him, driving their elbow into his ribs.

Darkrai looks just at Dusknoir when he answers. “There is a nice meadow a few minutes from here,” he says, and when Dusknoir nods, he starts floating in the direction it is directed in, leaving their audience behind. He is careful to look and count them multiple times, the further they become, but their number fortunately never changes.

Whatever Dusknoir and he are about to tell each other, it should not be overheard.

The meadow, this time of the year, is actually more of a patch of dead grass surrounded by a few bushes, a little to the west of the guild. Darkrai suspects, especially after today’s find, that there are perhaps the ruins of some buildings right beneath the ground, stopping anything but gras from growing there. Not that he will do anything to confirm his suspicions.

He found this place a few weeks back – funnily enough, also when Pearl insisted on adventuring. Maybe that was why she wanted to do so again, today? She hoped to find another… empty patch of dead grass?

“Ridiculous sycophants,” Dusknoir’s voice draws him out of his thoughts.

Darkrai tilts his head in a wordless question.

“The Pokémon you saw me with,” the ghost explains, his voice once more lacking the warmth it always has when around anyone but Darkrai. And Grovyle, he supposes. “Some wanted to tell me how they forgave me for the lies I told, and how I shouldn’t feel bad about not having told them; some wanted to just bask in my presence, I assume.”

Darkrai chuckles. “Ah yes, the worries of those who make themselves beloved.”

Dusknoir rolls his eye, in what Darkrai interprets as a playful move. He must truly feel at ease around him.

Good.

“Of course, I know that you chose the superior role to play.”

That makes Darkrai’s eye narrow before he can stop himself. Dusknoir has no right to make fun of him in this way. He has no right to make fun of him, ever.

“Indeed,” he forces out, averting his gaze from Dusknoir for a few moments to instead inspect a stone at his feet. He almost instinctively digs it out with his foot, but stops himself at the last moment. His illusion, most likely, would not fake over an action such as this. Too bad, because it seems as if it could actually be a piece of tessera.

“So, your reason for abducting me?” he then asks, looking at the ghost who looks almost… embarrassed?

“I would have warned you of what I planned, today, if I had had the chance to tell you,” he immediately answers, and, what? Where is this coming from? “But since Azelf and Pearl saw me interact with Grovyle in a way which proved that we have known each other for some time… I knew that, if I did not tell the truth now, my role here would soon be compromised.”

Well, of course, Darkrai already figured that out. But why tell him?

He repeats the question out loud.

“We are allies,” Dusknoir says, an unknown determination creeping into his voice, “Keeping each other up to date with our respective plans is part of that.”

… Darkrai did expect Dusknoir to be cruel beneath his mask, to be more cunning. He was right, of course, but he most definitely did not expect him to become… more honourable? This is a very strange mix of morale reprehensibility and irreproachability at the same time.

“Of course,” he carefully says, not quite able to grasp the logic but not willing to show that, “And this was what you wanted to tell me? Because I had figured that out before you hurried away in pursuit of Grovyle. You did not appropriately control your emotions around him.”

Dusknoir grimaces. “I am aware.”

Just… what is this strange situation?! Why does Dusknoir act like Darkrai’s input is that of a… a… a trusted friend?!

“Well.” Darkrai starts, the awkwardness of the situation starting to sink in, “Is there anything else?”

“Actually, yes. Well, first, the vision Uxie talked about—”

Darkrai waves his hand to interrupt him, and then explains, “A lie, no need to worry about it. You already knew that I had knowledge of the future; and unfortunately, Uxie cornered me when the guild’s excursion forced me to interact with him. It was what I came up with to explain some things to him.”

“So you have known him for a while, now?”

“I have. And that is all I will say on that matter.” He shoots Dusknoir a warning gaze, which the other easily accepts, proven by a short nod.

“But… I have wondered that since we had our ‘talk’, how do you actually know of my future?”

… Admitting to being the one to cause it would not be a smart idea, Darkrai is sure. Especially since he already admitted to that, but in his true form. No, that really would not go over well.

So playing mysterious will once again have to be the solution.

“As of now, I will not tell you,” he merely states.

And as expected, the mystery works, because Dusknoir’s next question is no longer on the same topic, even if the ghost does not even realize that. “Because you don’t want to, or because—”

“Because I can’t,” he finishes, finally looking at Dusknoir. “There will come a point in the future,” here, he interrupts himself for a quick chuckle, “For lack of a better word; where I will be able to, but as of now, sharing the reason would only snowball into more problems.”

“I would not tell it to anyone—”

“I know, Dusknoir,” he interrupts, trying his hardest to make his voice sound not just calm, but also trusting, if that is even possible. “Of all the Pokémon I know right now, I trust you the most. But this is a secret I must, unfortunately, keep for the time being.”

Dusknoir’s eye widens at his declaration, maybe in surprise; hopefully not in disbelief – and his next action seems to ascertain it as the first. “Alright,” he says, no anger to be heard in his words, “But I will hold you to that promise.”

“Of course,” he easily agrees, as easily as all of these lies rolled of his tongue.

For some moments, they do not talk, and Darkrai stares at the ocean in the distance, but then, unfortunately, Dusknoir speaks up yet again.

“There is something else I need to tell you – but first, I need to ask you about something.”

Darkrai starts to roll his eye, remembers that he has done it much too often today, and stops in his track. “Then ask. If I am not feeling like answering, I won’t do so, anyway.”

Dusknoir nods, as if that is the best he is going to get, and he is right. It is.

“Pearl. For how long have you known her?”

… Oh. Oh no.

“Why ask?” It is clear, why – over the weeks, hints towards Pearl’s true identity must have continued to add up. And while a Piplup named Pearl would be something Dusknoir could probably accept easily; one who has the same ability as the human he hunted, and who must have shown signs of her amnesia even if she never mentioned it; if that Piplup also happened to have arrived at roughly the same time as a human with the same name would have done is a completely different matter.

Darkrai does not know what Dusknoir would do with this knowledge. Today’s meeting was a close call, already; and he will still refuse to give Dusknoir the knowledge he would need to reach the correct solution with no doubts behind it. He tries to evade with his following answer. “Some time, already. Longer than I have known you, certainly.”

Dusknoir, unfortunately, seems unimpressed. “We have not known each other for very long.”

Darn it. Well, Darkrai said he would not answer if he did not want to, but not answering would certainly imply that he might not just know about Pearl, but also her relationship to Dusknoir; and no, absolutely not.

So something else, he needs to say something else,…

But genius that he is, he has an idea.

He sighs, loudly. “You asked me how old I was, once already.”

“… I did.”

“The truth is, Dusknoir, that I stopped counting some years, or maybe decades, ago. I do not know, anymore, and more often than not, time seems only an abstract concept to me. So the other truth is this: I do not recall. We could have known each other for one year, or maybe two. I do not believe it could be more than three.”

Dusknoir’s emotions, as apparent as usual when it is just him and Darkrai, show themselves in the form of a widened eye. “I… would not have guessed.”

Darkrai tries for a bitter smile, made easier by the knowledge that it probably won’t be seen through the illusion all too much. So if it is just the tiniest bit sardonic, no one but him will know. “No one does. But here you have your answer: I do not remember.”

The ghost then looks at him, intently. “Then… I cannot be entirely sure, but be careful around her.”

Darkrai’s eyebrow draws closer to his eye, without him meaning to do so. What?

“I do not have concrete proof, but she might be someone I knew, at one point. And if she is, she would not be happy if she knew that you worked together with me.”

… What. No, Dusknoir cannot mean what he just said. Warn him? About Pearl? Of all people?

Darkrai snorts. “Sure. I will watch out for her Bubble Beam, I would not want to get slightly inconvenienced.”

And that comment draws Dusknoir’s ire. “Don’t be so nonchalant. If I am right about my suspicions, then she is an accomplice of Grovyle!”

… Obviously. Darkrai still tries to at least act surprised. “An accomplice?” He narrows his eye and then huffs, for good measure. “Grovyle attacked her the last time he had the chance. Besides, I am quite skilled at reading other Pokémon.” He stares at Dusknoir, who his proof of Darkrai’s ability. “Neither of them acted as if they knew the other.”

“He… Might not have recognized her. And she did not recognize him.”

Darkrai lets his eyebrow wander up even higher, aware that it cannot be seen, anyways. “Great accomplices they are, then, to not even recognize the other.”

Dusknoir snorts, and then, as he is about to say something, seemingly decides against it. Instead, he shakes his head. “I will not go into the reasons for my suspicions, because I am still not entirely sure whether I am right… But do keep a watch on her. Do not trust her.”

Darkrai rolls his eye. “I do not trust anyone.” And then, because he still has an alliance with Dusknoir to keep alive, and because that, sometimes, requires stroking the other’s ego, he adds, “Except for you, I guess.”

Dusknoir seems almost elated at that, which, great. Just what Darkrai intended.

“Then there is just one more matter—” Dusknoir says, but Darkrai interrupts him, a great idea emerging his mind; an idea which will stop Dusknoir from talking for at least a few minutes and might even give Darkrai the chance to finally get out of this annoying talk.

“Fight me.”

Dusknoir’s answer comes hesitantly. “Fight… you?“

„Yes,“ he ascertains, „I want to see your true power. I fought Grovyle, and I will admit, he was strong. And still, he fled from you.”

“He probably fled because it would have been a fight of four on one. Not even he would be mad enough to engage in that, unless forced.”

“Three, at most. Two, more likely, because Pearl would have gone down after a single attack, and he knows that. And the last time we fought, he… well.” Darkrai does not want to admit that he would have lost. If he was in his true form, and could use Dark Void, he would have won in a matter of minutes, anyways. It is just the illusion’s fault.

“Still. He is a smart fighter, and even if it would have just been the two of us, he might have lost.”

“Then fight me,” Darkrai repeats his challenge. “If, truly, in the future we might have to fight against Grovyle side by side, I need to know your actual way of fighting, not what you do when Pearl can see you and you are up against enemies not even a tenth of your strength.”

Dusknoir looks actually surprised, now. “You want to accompany me and the three Legendaries?”

… Well, Darkrai at least understands where that misunderstanding could come from.

“No,” he answers, “I know that you four should be able enough to stop him. But one can never know about the future.” He snickers. “And even if you attempt to kill Grovyle, he seems quite well versed in getting out of such situations. So preparation for another fight against him seems like not too bad of an idea.”

That, in reality, it is preparation for a possible fight against Dusknoir, the other will only learn when it is too late.

The ghost finally sighs, as a sign of giving up. “You are sure?”

“I am.”

“Alright,” he says, “But I will hold back, to a certain degree. I do not want to kill you.”

“You think you can?” Darkrai asks, unimpressed. That is some confidence, and more often than not, where there is confidence, there is a fool.

“I might,” Dusknoir shrugs. “Who knows. In any way, I won’t go that far.”

“How lucky I am,” Darkrai says, his words accompanied by a roll of his eye. He does that a lot, today. Maybe he should stop, but it is not his fault if so many situations call for it.

Dusknoir stares at him, and then finishes, “And I will also try not to hurt you too much.”

“Likewise,” Darkrai agrees, definitely already planning on ways to hurt Dusknoir that seem like unfortunate accidents.

With a last nod, they move away a few steps from each other, and then, Dusknoir visibly changes his stance, a stance Darkrai almost recognizes from the night when Dusknoir attacked and Darkrai fled. This time, of course, it will be different.

For a few moments, they look into each others’ eye, and then, Darkrai takes the chance to attack first – who knows, maybe if he gets the first hit in, he will win quickly. He goes for Dark Pulse first, and when Dusknoir, unfortunately, moves out of the way, follows it up with a Double Team.

Just when he is in the middle of that, though, an attack comes his way, which looks an awful lot like Confuse Ray, and Darkrai has to decide whether he will accept to be hit but finish his own Double Team, or if he will abort it to evade the attack.

There is not much thinking involved, in the end – on instinct, he jumps to the side, and almost into a Shadow Ball. Darn it, Dusknoir is cunning! Darkrai is about to slip into the shadows to evade it, and then realizes that he cannot do so and—

The next moment, he’s thrown back multiple steps, barely able to keep himself upright. That was… too much power for a single attack.

Well. He won’t give up, not until he has given Dusknoir a good beating, at least. Looking into the direction of the other – Dusknoir has not really changed his position, and already turns to attack again – probably Confuse Ray. Darkrai dashes to the side he just came from, and hits back with an Ominous Wind, and although it visibly impacts with Dusknoir, the other does not truly seem to care about it.

How strong is Dusknoir?!

With no time to actually think about that, Darkrai lets himself fall to the ground to evade another Confuse Ray, and then moves in closer to Dusknoir, to maybe get a guaranteed hit with Dark Pulse, but before he even has the chance to attack—

Was that—Did Dusknoir just hit him?! In the face?! With his fist?!

That might’ve been Shadow Punch but—

Darkrai strikes out with his hand on instinct, but finally, Dusknoir moves – out of the way, of course.

Not wanting to give him another chance at attacking, Darkrai uses Ominous Wind, and then almost jumps back to finally go for that blasted Double Team. This time, he manages to do so, and when Dusknoir once again goes for a Confuse Ray, it misses its target without Darkrai having needed to move out of its way.

If only he could use Dark Void, this fight would already be over! But instead, he goes for Dark Pulse once again, watches in almost-disappointment as Dusknoir evades it again, and then, suddenly, gets attacked from beneath his feet.

He is thrown some way into the air, and even though he tries to catch himself in time, one of his legs gives way, and only his hurriedly thrown out arms keep him from planting his face into the earth. This—

Blasted Dusknoir! Just going and using Shadow Sneak, and acting like—

The next moment, before he has even started to get up again, he is hit in the face by what he assumes to be a Shadow Ball, but really, it does not truly matter, because the attack’s name does not change that Darkrai suddenly finds himself lying on his back, breathing heavily while staring at a somewhat overcast sky.

Did he…

Did he just…

Of course he did, he realizes, and then, within the confines of his own head, he uses a rather coarse swear word.

He lost, and he will have to accept it now or seem like an idiot who shuts his eyes in front of the truth.

When he does not try to get up in time, Dusknoir floats over, and he actually manages to seem somewhat worried. “Are you alright?”

“Sure,” Darkrai hisses, because even if he lost, that does not mean that he will have to be happy with it, “In the same way that a burning house is fine.”

Dusknoir’s eye widens. “Do you need help? Should I—” And as he moves to reach for Darkrai, maybe to help him up, maybe to just pick him up, Darkrai flinches and hisses, “Get your dirty hands away from me!”

Using his own strength, he pushes himself up, ignoring the almost hurt gaze Dusknoir is suddenly sporting. Because Dusknoir does not get hurt by mere words, just as Darkrai’s feelings do not get hurt by losing a fight to him.

“I apologize, I did not mean to seriously hurt you—”

“Who’s hurt, huh?” Darkrai barks, standing up on wobbly legs. Oh, sure, his left leg does still hurt from his earlier fall, and his head is pounding from that Shadow Ball, and his back still tells him every place where it ripped open when he was thrown over the ground, but he is not hurt. All of these things and worse, he has gone through multiple times in the past.

And then, to maybe salvage his image, even a little bit, he looks Dusknoir up and down. “You are… quite strong,” he admits, as if Dusknoir does not literally seem as if he would be able to hold his own in a fight against Dialga. Something Darkrai cannot claim to be able to do, and still, this ghost might just succeed.

“You too,” Dusknoir tells him, and Darkrai laughs a short, meaningless laugh at that. “I mean it!” Dusknoir hurries to say, “Not many have been able to hold their own against me for as long as you did.”

Raising his eyebrow, Darkrai asks, “Grovyle among them?”, making Dusknoir’s mien change from whatever it was before, to something akin to disgust, or maybe even hate.

“Unfortunately.” And then, his features seem to soften again, and instead of nowhere, he looks at Darkrai again. “Are you sure you are alright? I… Might have hit a little harder than would have been necessary.”

Darkrai waves his annoying mien off with a move of his hand. “I am. Worry about something else.”

“Well…” Dusknoir starts, stops, and then, after an audible breath, continues, “Do you truly not want to evolve? The way you fought, I realized that your power is held back by your form—”

“I will decide when to evolve,” Darkrai interrupts him, making his voice as icy as a winter’s storm would be, “And I have decided not to do so. My reasons are of no concern to you.”

For a moment, Dusknoir seems as if he wants to say something, but then he sighs, instead. “Please excuse my intrusion into this matter.”

… Well. At least he has finally learnt when to back off, has he not. Maybe he should now ensure Dusknoir that he is excused, but honestly, his whole body still aches, and he hates Dusknoir anyways, so he does not.

Instead, he looks at the sky, and the sun who is already starting its descent – it won’t set for a few more hours, of course, but still, after how early Darkrai had to rise today, and the many things which happened… He really, really does not want to spend any more time with Dusknoir. In fact, he just wants to lie down in his bed, close his eyes, and pretend that he is asleep.

“I will be returning to the guild,” he states, and as expected, Dusknoir starts spluttering.

“Already?”

“Well, what more is there to be said? You told me about why you did not share your hare-brained idea for today, warned me about Pearl, we fought, and now, I am tired of this day.”

“Ah, there is… Another thing,” the ghost then says, and no. Absolutely not.

“It can wait,” he says, turning around to float away. Maybe to the guild. Maybe to a place where he can spend some time alone. Just not around Dusknoir.

“It is quite important—”

“Is it life threatening?” he asks, turning around to look at Dusknoir for one last time, and when the ghost, after some thinking, tentatively shakes his head, accompanied by a deep sigh, Darkrai simply turns around again. “Then I do not need to know it, right now. Good luck on your hunt for Grovyle.”

And he floats away, intently listening for any sounds of the ghost following him.

He does not.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed it! Last part of the upload will be here, soon.

Chapter 17: Recollections of the Future

Summary:

EDIT: I completely forgot, but I received some more pieces of fanart I am so happy ;_;
If you can, please check them out!
Two are by CandlitNights (who already drew one picture!!), you can find them here: https://www.deviantart.com/missowlit/art/Only-the-Tips-900038558
and here:
https://www.deviantart.com/missowlit/art/Confectionary-Company-901083628

And another one is by a commenter without an account, going by olivverr_/Oliver, which you can find here: https://imgur.com/a/3n0NXGN

I absolutely adore them, so if you can, please show them some love!

Notes:

Last part of today's update, I hope you enjoy it!

Surprisingly enough, a day passes without Pearl asking him the dreaded questions; instead, she just behaves as she normally does. Darkrai might even call her considerate.

The morning of the next day, Dusknoir and the Lake Guardians leave for Crystal Lake, and Darkrai and Pearl spend an ordinary day doing ordinary assignments. He almost missed their simplicity, but the moment yet another Pokémon wants to thank him with a hug, he decides that, no, actually he did not.

In any way, the day ends just like an ordinary day, as well. After dinner, Pearl spends some time talking to Bidoof and Sunflora in their room, and when it is time for curfew, she moves into the shared room where Darkrai had spent his time reading, and lays down on her bed.

The first few minutes, Darkrai even entertains the thought that she might not want to speak anymore, that maybe today’s missions tired her out enough. Yesterday she certainly did not talk at evening, beside a short comment about the day having been really busy.

So he hopes to, once again, be spared the ritual of questions being asked after curfew. But in case that he is not, he had some of the time she spent talking to plan out his answers; to explain his talk with Uxie and his siblings in the most acceptable way for her; a way which will reveal almost nothing.

"Hey, Darcy?" she ruins his hopes with a simple question.

“I am listening, Pearl,” he ascertains, turning towards her. Outside their window, he can hear a light drizzle. It had seemed imminent the entire day, but luckily had only started once they had already returned to the guild.

“Why, exactly… don’t you like Dusknoir?”

Wait. No. That wasn’t the right question! He did not plan an answer for that one! Blast it, what should he say? He cannot admit to the true reasons, that much is clear.

“I…” Or maybe, he should admit to parts of it? Blast it, this is such a complicated question! Why did she even ask it?

“What makes you ask?” he questions back, deciding that it might be the safest path.

Pearl sighs. “It’s just… yesterday, the way he told us about having known about Grovyle for so long, how he came from an entirely different time, but how he had kept it secret… I guess it just rubbed me wrong. And he apologized, which I’m really thankful for! But… well, I don’t know. I guess it just seems kinda weird to me. Also… It’s just, he knew about Grovyle before anyone else did, right? So why didn’t he tell us what he knew?” Another heavy sigh follows as she visibly deflates. “Maybe I’m just being mean.”

“No matter how mean you are, I will still be worse than you,” Darkrai says, and then he halts.

Pearl’s eyes widen. “Was that… a joke? A joke about yourself?!”

He huffs. “What? Of course not!”

Pearl laughs. How dare she! Just because he may have said something that might be interpreted as a joke!

“I’m not laughing at you!” she claims, still giggling, “I think your joke was great and you should do them more often!”

“There was no joke! But sure. I will. Once there are no more waterfalls in the distortion world, I might try it.”

Pearl just continues to laugh. “Sure, sure, I get it, gramps.”

At that awful nickname, which seems intent on sticking around for far longer than it should, he can only sigh.

And then Pearl stops laughing and becomes serious again. “But still… Why don’t you like Dusnkoir?”

Tarnation, she did not forget their topic. “Who said I do not like him?”

“Daaarcy,” she starts, drawing out his name in a dramatic way, “I know you, okay? And because of that, I can really, really safely say that you do not like him. At all. That you haven’t liked him from the first day we met.”

“Well, so what? I dislike everyone, do I not?” he snarls back, hoping to finally get her away from this topic because he still has no good answer.

“First off, that’s not true, you like me, and Dareios, and Uxie, and… Azelf, I think? So that’s at least three Pokémon. Three and a half. And then, your dislike of others, normally… it’s different. Like… Bidoof. You don’t necessarily like Bidoof, but you also do not try and stop me from talking to him.”

“Yes, because he could not harm you if you tried.” It is a throwaway-comment, not intended to mean much, but Pearl’s eyes narrow. Did he… say something wrong?

“I think I get it now,” Pearl starts, “I think that you are afraid of what Dusknoir could do, right?”

Actually, it is ‘What he will do’, but he does not correct Pearl. Since when was she even so insightful? She’s too young to be that smart! He does not answer.

“Because, if like, I told Bidoof that I’m… uh… I’m making this up, but if I told him that I was afraid of great heights, the worst he could do is try to lure me to a cliff or something. But Dusknoir could like, simply pick me up, drag me up to one and then throw me down, too, right?”

Where does this sudden intelligence come from?! Oh, sure, Pearl is definitely not smart – else, he would have abandoned his plan already. But this just now… Does she hide even more of her true self? If so, he might be in trouble.

“Perhaps,” he answers, after Pearl makes it clear that, this time, she will not continue on her own.

“But then… why would you fear that he would do that? He’s… friendly and helpful. Although what he did yesterday… Hm.” Her eyebrows are drawn together, proving how hard she must be thinking about this.

He sighs. Well, at least she made him come up with an answer for why he does not like Dusknoir – and answer that is obviously a lie, but most likely one she should accept as truth easily enough.

“Ghost types… well, like dark types, they have a certain reputation, as you may have realized by now. And while there are some exceptions to the rule, as there always are, that reputation does not stem from nothing, either. So… I find myself mistrustful of most other’s intentions if they happen to be either Type.”

“But… isn’t that what everyone else does to you?”

He averts his eye and stares at the ceiling instead. How could he ever make her understand that it does not matter how others treat him, because they will always hate him, be it for his type, his ability, or just himself? He stopped caring about their reasons for their hate long ago, and just concentrated on getting back at them.

Finally, he answers. “Not every normal type is harmless. Not every ghost type is out to harm others. But most are, and acting on that knowledge is just natural. I will never be able to stop others from doing so, so—”

“So why not be exactly as stupid as they are?” she interrupts him, and he can hear her exhale in what he supposes must be anger. “So is that all? That’s why you dislike Dusknoir, because of his type?”

… Well, if she puts it like this, he really did not tell his side well, did he?

“I-, Well, no,” he tries to explain, “It is just that… You must understand, Pearl, that I am somewhat… old.”

He ignores the mumbled “You don’t say” expertly.

“And with age, there comes the ability to sometimes tell the harmless ones from the harmful ones without even knowing why you are able to do so. You will just get a bad feeling and not know what to do with it, but because you’ve been alive for long enough, you will decide to believe that feeling, to some extent.” There, maybe that will suffice.

“That’s no reason, either. There’s something else, isn’t there, Darcy? I know that you don’t judge others by type, because you’ve never done so for as long as we’ve known each other; and you don’t just act on instincts. Well. Not most of the time, anyways. So there must be something else, right?”

He harrumphs. “No. I’m just a grumpy old Duskull who hates others, just leave it at that.”

Pearl snorts and then states, “Well, I’m not gonna accept that answer either.”

He groans. Maybe… maybe if he just dresses up his annoyance about him as reasons, she might accept it. Possibly. Not that he couldn’t just turn his back to her right now and fall silent or something. But he is still trying to salvage this relationship from the hit it took during their argument, so answering would be better, no?

“Before yesterday, did he not seem so very perfect? Always friendly, always happy to share his knowledge, never a hint of anger even if he had an actual reason to feel it?”

“I mean, you did say some pretty mean things to him, sometimes…”

“And he never even showed the slightest annoyance. Well, except for the time he met Grovyle. Does that not seem strange to you?”

“I mean… I guess?”

Seems like it is time for a lesson in lying, huh? “Everyone,” he starts to explain, “And I mean everyone, you, me, Bidoof, Wigglytuff, and everyone else; we will have slip-ups in our behaviour, because we are influenced by our emotions. And sometimes, those will make us do things we really would not or should not do. But because we feel certain emotions, at that moment, we still do them.”

Well, excluding Darkrai, of course, since he has amazing control over his emotions.

“And the only Pokémon who will not show those irregularities,” he continues, “Are those who are just pretending to feel certain emotions. Those that hide their reality beneath a mask.”

He stops , realizing that, if her smart streak continues for a while longer, maybe sharing all of this will not have been the best idea. For a while, she is silent, and then, quietly, she says, “I think I get it now. Like, when we met Grovyle the second time, the way he cursed him, and how aggressive he got, that… that wasn’t the same Dusknoir as the one we travelled with. But also, it was, but just the one behind the mask, right?”

Darkrai nods, remembers that she cannot see in the dark as well as him, and verbally confirms it. “Indeed, I believe so.”

“But… the time when we talked about the stars, do you think that was also… a mask?”

Darkrai groans. “I do not know, Pearl, alright? I know that I got suspicious of him because he seemed too perfect, and I now know that I was right to be so. Can I suddenly tell which of his interactions with us was genuine and which was not? No, not really.”

She sighs. “Yeah, okay. Makes sense.  I think I get it now. And…” She takes an audible breath. “And… And I know I say it kinda often, but thank you for being my friend.”

… Where did this come from.

“And for staying by my side, even when we sometimes… well, don’t get along.”

Oh no, he hates emotional talk—

“And I know that you really don’t like emotional talk, but I really just want you to know this. Even if you feel like you can’t tell me something, for some reason, just… know that I’m here once you can? And I’ll hear you out.”

Great to know. He will include that in his dramatic ‘Behold, I betrayed you the whole time, that was my dark secret’ speech. Make it even more hurtful.

Even thinking about this in a joking way feels strange, but he cannot put a finger on why, exactly, it does. It is not as if his plans have changed just because he has spent some time around her.

“Sure,” he finally settles on as an answer, when he realizes that Pearl must still be waiting for one.

“Uhm…” She then starts, but before he can chide her for basically stuttering, she continues, “I… There’s one more thing I have to ask.”

He stares at her, waiting to hear what she just has to ask.

“It’s about yesterday… again. Don’t worry, I won’t ask about whatever Uxie and the others needed you for, but before that…” She breathes in deeply as he wonders what she might be getting at.

“Darcy, why didn’t you tell me you had a vision of the future?”

… Shi—

Blast it. Obviously she would have wanted to know about that before all the others, would have wanted to hear it from him in a private conversation; but there had been no reason, because it was just another lie to keep someone else at bay! The thought to continue this lie when Uxie was not around never even graced his mind, but now, it is coming back to haunt him, is it not?

He groans.

Alright. Alright, this situation can be salvaged. Did Uxie not tell everyone that they were not sure whether it was a vision or not? That… that should suffice as an explanation. It should.

“I was not sure whether it was just a nightmare or… more. And neither was Uxie.”

“Yeah, but… Don’t you think I might’ve helped with a possible vision of the future?” As of now, the hurt in her voice is still barely able to be grasped, and Darkrai holds unto the hope that it will stay so small. He really… He really cannot deal with another argument.

“I did not… think about that,” he carefully answers, “With all the nightmares we have been having, I was not sure if it was just a bad dream; and since Uxie is an expert on things related to the Time Gears, as well as the Legendary of Knowledge, I thought that he would be the best Pokémon to tell about it. And…”

Looking to the side, he makes sure that the movement can actually be heard, so that she knows that he is oh-so-deeply ashamed that he must avert his eyes. “And I did not want to burden you. I have not… forgotten about our argument, and I felt as if telling you now, after I had not done for so long, would have just put another strain on our… friendship.”

“And you didn’t think,” she starts, agitation clear, “You didn’t think, that maybe not telling me, and then coming out with it in front of basically everyone, would do the same?” The way she asks is barely kept from sounding truly angry, and Darkrai actually grimaces.

Blast it, he really does not want another argument. He does not want this strained relationship. He just wants to go back to the easiness with which their previous 'friendship' functioned, and not worry about every little thing he does and its implications about the bigger picture. Right now, it is exhausting, and if he could, he would just give up, run away, and hole himself up somewhere with no one around for company. Remain in loneliness until everyone has forgotten about him, until everyone has forgotten how very much they hate him; and only then come back to the world.

With a bodily jerk, he realizes what he just thought. No. No! He would never want to do that. He has a right to be in this world, to do as he wants, no matter if it might hurt others or not. And if he has to constantly tell lies to stay here, and if he has to keep walking on a tightrope made of these lies, then he will do so.

And he still has no fitting answer, no way to make Pearl trust him as she did before, no way to fix this mess.

With an abrupt move, he stands up, and ignoring Pearl’s confused question of “Darcy?”, walks over to the window. The drizzle has turned into a light rain by now, but he is not interested in that. Rather, he stares out of the window to see how far down the cliff before their room falls; and he realizes that unfortunately, too far to just walk through the wall and spend the night elsewhere.

Instead, he starts pacing, because there is too much energy within him, and if he does not get it out, he might just snap at Pearl again, and he cannot allow himself to do so.

“Do you know—,” he starts, and then aborts the question he thought to ask. And then starts it anew, because he has no other idea. “Do you know how many Pokémon I have had in my life who I could call friends?”

“I… don’t?” she answers, and he nods, having already known what her answer would be.

“Don’t worry, it was a rhetorical question, anyways,” he says, and continues, “To be… honest, I could count them on one hand.”

“Human hand or, uh… your no-finger hand?”

Darkrai snorts, despite himself, and keeps pacing. “I guess a human hand missing two fingers, probably.” Then, he becomes serious again, stops his pacing, and instead leans on the wall. “The last friend, I lost most definitely years before you were born, Pearl. And ever since then…”

Darn it. Darn it, he does not want to say anything, and so instead, he starts his pacing again, to think about what he might say. The last days have been so very stressful, and everything just keeps going wrong, but he does not know who is to blame for that, which is infuriating in its own right.

“I do not know how proper friendships work. I do not know what things you are supposed to do, or what you should not; I do not know what I should tell others and what I should keep to myself.” He takes a deep breath, intent on continuing, but then, no more thoughts come to his mind, no thought but ‘I should not have said all of that, I should not have shared it.’

“Darn it,” he mumbles, increasing the speed of his pacing. “Darn it, darn it, darn it,” he repeats, because these thrice-cursed emotions within him are still here.

“Before,” he says, stops, and decides to continue pacing again, “Before all of this… Grovyle business, or even earlier, we never told each other our nightmares. We still don’t! We both know that we have them, everyone in the guild has them, but we do not talk about it. So tell me, why… Why are you so hurt that I did not tell you another nightmare I had, which just turned out to be perhaps a little more?”

He is about to continue talking, because this question, too, was just rhetorical again, but Pearl manages to speak before he has the chance.

“Because you told Uxie about it! Which means you were worried about it, but… but you did not trust me with it.”

He puts his hands against his temples and begins massaging them, still pacing, from left to right and right to left.

“No,” he finally says, “No, I did not. Because our friendship is… is failing right now, but I don’t want it to fail; and whatever I do or don’t, it just turns out to be the wrong decision anyways!” The last word, he shouts; which he did not want to do. Darn it, what is up with his emotions suddenly?!

He stops the movement of his hands, because it did not help, and lets them fall to his side. Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to stand and look out of the window. Counting the raindrops would be a useless endeavour, and so, instead, he starts counting the cliffs once can see from here.

There are not many, and so, instead, he tries counting the rocks he can see on the closest one, when suddenly, he feels something, no, someone, grasping his hand. For a few moments, he almost jerks it away on instinct, and when that has passed, he thinks about pulling it away still; but finally, he realizes that… Pearl holding his hand is good. It proves that she… that she cannot hate him all too much.

… Right?

No one is there to answer. No one but Pearl.

“It’s okay,” she says, her voice soothing, “I’m hurt that you didn’t tell me, but… I’ll get over it. And in the future, you’ll tell me these things, alright?”

He stares at her, knowing how wide his eye must be, but not able to stop that.

“And the argument… maybe this isn’t healthy or something, but let’s just forget about it, okay? We both got angry, we both said shitty stuff; and now it’s happened, and it’s in the past, and we can stop acting like the other is made of glass and just behave better than we did before.”

“I…” He starts and does not know how to continue, and so, he just says, “Alright?”, ignoring how it sounds more like a question than anything else.

“Great! Now come on,” she says then, pulling him over to their beds again, “Let’s lie down and sleep. Tomorrow, things will be different.”

Not understanding what is actually going on right now, he lets himself be pulled, and when she sits down on her own bed, not letting go of his hand, pulling him with her, he also lets her, until with a ‘thump’ he is sitting again.

The moment he is, all the previous energy he had seems to flee him, and it needs all his self-control to stop his body from just toppling down unto his bed.

As she pulls her flipper away again – blessed be the non-contact following the movement – she just says a quiet, “Sleep well, yeah?”

Darkrai is still too astonished by what just happened to do anything but respond, “You too.”

And then… they just sleep.

 

Darkrai, for once, is woken by Loudred instead of his internal clock; a Loudred who seems to have been so accustomed to his nightmares that he can just shout at the beginning of a new day no matter how badly he slept.

“RISE AND SHINE, YOU TWO SLEEPYHEADS!”

He groans and puts his hands against his ears, which still does not drown out the “COME ON, YOU’LL BE LATE!”

Luckily, after that, Loudred disappears as quickly as he must have come.

“Morning,” a voice next to him croaks, and a gaze to his side shows a Pearl, her feathers sticking up in every which way.

“… Good Morning,” he carefully greets back, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

“Sleep well?” she then asks, but before he has the time to answer, ‘Obviously not, no one in the guild does’, Pearl continues, “I dreamt of… Grovyle killing you. When you fought against Mesprit.”

Darkrai stares at her, trying to understand what, exactly, she is doing. Why… why is she sharing her nightmare with him, and why does she look at him with these wide, expecting eyes?

And suddenly, it dawns on him. She wants him to share his own nightmares. For a moment, he thinks that she is trying to fish for his weaknesses, to get him to admit to his evil-doing, as others might call it, but then—

Then, he realizes that she must be trying to get him to… to bond with her. In a really, really weird way.

Or is she? No, she must be trying to… to…

Dusknoir’s warning from before graces his mind, the ghost’s suspicion that Pearl could perhaps know more than she lets on, and Darkrai realizes that Dusknoir is absolutely wrong. Pearl does not remember. She does not recall the future, she does not know about Grovyle once having been her friend, she does not remember who Dusknoir is.

She does not remember, and almost every moment since she first woke without any of those memories, she has spent next to Darkrai.

If she truly searched to use knowledge against him, she would have done so already, because she is no great schemer, and she never will be.

For some reason, that realization calms Darkrai. Sure, she might get angry with him; and if he does particularly damning things, she will, most surely, even end their friendship, but right now… She is no threat. Not in strength, not in cunning.

“I…” He starts, still unwilling to share his bad dreams, because they are his alone, and he does not want to give her ammunition even if she would not use them, “I dreamt of… of our argument,” he makes up, because by now, everyone must know that they had it, and she won’t be able to use it against him if she wanted to.

“That sucks,” she says, no condemnation to be found in her words, no pity, just a calm assurances that, well… it sucks.

And then, she smiles. “Let’s make this day a good one, okay?”

There are so many unidentified emotions within Darkrai’s chest, and the realization that something, once again, changed between them in his mind, that in the end, he just nods, the words for an answer missing.

But for once, he does not need them.

 

Days pass and nothing of particular interest happens. In fact, everything seems to fall back into its usual ways, with the slight difference that now, every morning after the horrible cheer, Chatot updates them on the situation regarding Grovyle. Which generally is absolutely no information – just admitting that he does not know whether the outlaw has been caught, nor how the Lake Guardians (and Dusknoir) are faring.

Maybe they should have left one of the Legendaries here, so they could converse through telepathy and update them. It would definitely be nicer than having Chatot around for the job.

IDarkrai uses these days to make sure that Pearl gets some much needed training in. Their relationship is so… changed, but also the same, since that one night, and he really is not sure what to make of it, so he tries his best to act as he did before… well. Everything. Maybe.

Since he does not know what, exactly, will happen next (which absolutely infuriates him), he thinks it best to be prepared for, well, everything. Especially a turn for the worse. Things have been going much too smoothly ever since Dusknoir and the Lake Trio left, and if he has learnt anything since starting on this plan of his, then it is that things are never supposed to just go according to plan.

For example, what happened to Skuntank and his cronies? They cannot have given up on their thoughts of revenge, but after the incident with Manectric’s tribe Pearl told him about, he has not even glanced a single hair of them. Or wing. Or… other appendage.

So yes, there are too many things that are intent on making all of his plans crumble, and that they have not yet tried to do so is disconcerting.

Well, overthinking things has not helped him yet, so instead, he just does the best he can to be prepared for whatever comes. Together with Pearl, he does rescues, item retrievals and apprehensions, all the while making sure to truly step back and let her fight. She will not get stronger if he always keeps her safe.

He has almost missed exploring – almost. Obviously, he does not enjoy it. He, Darkrai, Legendary of nightmares and more, does not need to explore anything. He simply does it out of the goodness of his heart. Or, uh, the viciousness of his being.

 

“Hey, Darcy, is time travel… really possible?”

He turns to look at Pearl at that, sitting next to him on the ground before the Dungeon they had today’s assignment in. To get more training in, they decided not to use the newfound powers of their Explorer’s Badge, unless it became absolutely necessary; and so, they will often pause after leaving the Dungeon, for some time, after which they will make their way back.

Today, they visited the Craggy Coast, which is just about close enough to only be a day’s trip, where they retrieved some lost items. These are actually most of the jobs they have been taking recently, since it left them more time to actually train, instead of having to worry about keeping other Pokémon save, or having to call Magnezone the moment they knocked a criminal out.

“Of course it is,” he answers, because this is just such a stupid question. “It is complicated, but possible,”

“So, then, do you think that Dusknoir is really from the future? And not just making stuff up?”

Hah, what a great question! “Oh, he is most definitely ‘making stuff up’, as you put it. We’ve been over that. But I do believe that he and Grovyle are truly from the future.”

Pearl does not answer for the longest time and instead stares at the ocean. Finally, she looks at him again. “I… this will sound really strange, maybe, but something… well, I don’t know, it’s just that—”

“Pearl, take your time. Put the words in order in your head and speak them once that is done.”

She laughs. “Alright, alright, I will.”

Silence ensues, but Darkrai can almost see Pearl going through whatever she wants to say.

“Okay. So, I think that, maybe I might have known something about the future Dusknoir talked about, before I ended up in Treasure Town? What he told us, about a world that doesn’t move, where only darkness exists… it almost… made me recall something? Like, I could visibly envision it, but I’ve never seen the places I envisioned before! But I mean, isn’t that the future that Dusknoir is trying to stop from happening? So why would I ever recall it? I just don’t know but… I wanted to tell you.”

Oh. Are memories… returning? No, that should not be possible… or should it? He…

Originally, he tried to attack Grovyle, not Pearl. That she jumped in the way to safe him, well, considering her character, made sense, but he had never planned to make her lose her memories. Or turn her into a Pokémon, however that even happened.

So there is, of course, the slight possibility that she might slowly regain them. But if she does…

It would be better if she did not.

Still, what she said, it sounds like… she is remembering a few things, at least.

Oh, an answer. He needs to come up with one for Pearl.

“Well, considering that you do not know where you came from, maybe you, hm, well, met a Pokémon from the future before and they told you a few things?” He almost said ‘you came from the future’ which… would not be very wise. It would indicate that he knows too much.

“Yeah, maybe,” Pearl sighs. “You know… I wish I could remember who I was, before. Why I became a Pokémon, how I ended up on the beach. Or… what my favourite colour was. If I had friends. Or even a family.” She falls silent, then shakes her head. “That made me think, do you have family, beside Dareios?”

… Bad turn of conversation. Bad question, too. Well, in case of doubt… snicker.

“I do, but we are not in contact,” he admits, hoping that she will leave the topic.

She does not, because she is just infuriating like this. “Why not?”

“I would really rather not talk about that,” he answers, and that gets her to back down immediately. Which is strange, really, because he had not known anyone before who would just… accept if he did not want to make conversation about some things.

Cresselia would always become so very, very pushy, never satisfied with leaving things as they are; and Az-, well, someone else would always want to help and therefore want to know, so he could do it, when things could not be changed anyways. That was, actually, a fault of most others he talked with… before shared.

But Pearl, even if she pushes sometimes, will, most of the time, accept if he admits that he does not want to talk about something, and it is… Refreshing. Comfortable.

And this time is no different, because she continues with a different topic. “So… what do you think the actual future is like? Not the one Grovyle wants, but the one Dusknoir’s trying to keep as it is. Do you think the guild still exists? And… from how far in the future do you think he is? Fifty years? Or like… one hundred?”

“Try four hundred,” Darkrai answers, not able to keep from smirking.

“Four hundred?!”

“Yes. After all, Ghost Types normally live a very long time—”

“You mean non-live—”

“So, if it was anything less than two hundred, I would have still been around.”

“… Darcy. You’re already a gramps. How much more of one do you want to become? Do you want to be like… the ultra gramps?”

“This conversation is over.”

“Nooo, I’m sorry! Please don’t ignore me! I won’t call you gramps the rest of the day, I swear!”

“Over,” he insists, not quite able to keep a grin from gracing his lips. To stop her from perhaps noticing it, he instead pushes himself upright, and stretches for a few moments, closing his eye as he does so. He can feel the pull of the scars on his back, but they are much more manageable than they once were. Now, only certain movements remind him of their existence. Finally, he opens his eye again, to see that Pearl has also stood up.

“Back home?” she asks, and he nods.

“Indeed.”

And back they go.

 

Three more days pass in this vein, and then, the evening of the fourth day, something changes. The guild has already assembled for dinner when a siren rings loudly through the guild.

Dugtrio hurries out of the room immediately, closely followed by Loudred. The rest of the guild remains awkwardly sitting around the table, unsure what is going on.

Although Darkrai does have a hunch as to what it could be.

Soon enough, Loudred’s voice rings through the walls. “EVERYBODY! GROVYLE’S BEEN CAUGHT!”

A cheer goes through the assembled crowd.

“OFFICER MAGNEZONE WANTS US TO GET TO THE TOWNSQUARE IMMEDIATELY, BECAUSE DUSKNOIR WILL BE RETURNING TO THE FUTURE WITH HIM!”

And now instead of cheering, there is confusion and perhaps even sadness at Dusknoir’s soon-to-be departure.

“Wait, but how will he return?” someone asks, and someone else – Corpish – repeats the question, much louder this time, so that Loudred can hopefully hear it.

It is a few moments until the answer comes. “WELL, DEPUTY MAGNEMITE SAYS HE DOESN’T REALLY UNDERSTAND IT, BUT DUSKNOIR SAID HE WILL BE USING A DIMENSIONAL HOLE FOR IT!”

Darkrai’s eye widens at that. A Dimensional Hole? Of course, it makes sense, but how did he ever get the power to open one? He might be strong when it comes to fighting, as Darkrai is loath to admit, but opening Dimensional Holes? No, there must be something else going on.

“ANYWAYS, DEPUTY MAGNEMITE SAYS WE REALLY SHOULDN’T DAWDLE!”

And so, they don’t – instead, in an unorderly line, they make their way out of the guild, and the entire way, everyone seems to be trying to be as rowdy as they can be. There are a lot of mentions along the lines of “Finally he’s been caught!” and “Do you think Grovyle’s really so scary?”, as well as “Does Dusknoir really have to return to the future?”. Darkrai does not feel the need to participate in it, and for once, neither does Pearl, apparently. Instead, she walks by his side, very obviously caught up in her thoughts. In situations like these, Darkrai really wishes that he could read them like some Psychic Types can.

But since he cannot, he instead stares at the setting sun. Today is one of the few days that it had managed to pierce through the clouds, which seem to cover the sky so very often now. Truly, autumn has arrived and is very willing to become winter soon. Maybe a little early, really, but who can ever tell how the seasons will be?

They finally arrive at the town square and—

What in Giratina’s name is a Dimensional Hole doing in the middle of the square?! Everyone could fall in! Darkrai could fall in, and who knows what would happen to him then! Maybe he’s developed an allergy to Dimensional Holes, due to having been in decidedly too many of them, who knows?! His heart starts beating rapidly, for some reason.

When Magnemite told them of how Dusknoir would travel through time with the help of a Dimensional Hole, he just assumed it would be opened somewhere… outside of the town! Where the chance of any accidents is slim at worst and non-existent at best!

So yes, its position is, in his humble opinion, one of the worst ideas to have ever been conceived.

Even Darkrai only opened his at the end of Dungeons, and he was never worried for the safety of the Pokémon around him, it was just simple, logical reasoning!

There are already so many Pokémon here at the square, only increasing the chances of one, perhaps being… accidentally pushed in. Or maybe Dareios deciding to play a bad prank by shoving someone in, Darkai is not entirely assured that the banker might not do that. Mostly, he thinks he would not, but with Dareios… one never knows.

And then, as expected, someone tries to touch it out of curiosity, that someone being Bidoof. And yes, Bidoof is not particularly smart, but still, this is a danger to everyone present! And since Dusknoir is not yet here to advise him against it, that responsibility lands squarely on Darkrai’s shoulders.

Oh, maybe if he had waited, someone else would have spoken up, but by then, it might have been too late. He would not want Bidoof sucked into the future, simply because he would definitely die there, and well, while he does not care for Bidoof, Pearl does and…

Anyways.

“Do not touch that,” he hisses, and Bidoof jumps in surprise, then turns around to look at him with wide eyes. Some kind of static-y noises come from Magnezone as well. Maybe he would have stopped him in time. Who knows.

“W-Why not?” Bidoof asks, still wide eyed.

“Because obviously, it must be incredibly smart to touch something of which you do not know how it works,” Darkrai snaps, barely keeping himself from rolling his eye, trying to drown out the sound of his rapidly beating heart with his voice, “It is called a Dimensional Hole. It looks like a hole. What, exactly, can one therefore expect once they get too close to it?”

Fortunately, Magnezone takes over. “It is as Duskull said! If you touch it, you will immediately be sent to the future! Please be extremely careful!”

“O-o-oh!” Bidoof stutters and immediately takes a few steps back. Good. Darkrai also takes some steps back. Not that he was close to it, before, but... But something within himself writhes in an emotion which feels suspiciously close to fear with even the thought of getting close. He does not know why, but he allows his body to just react, this time.

Maybe, Darkrai suddenly realizes, it was Primal Dialga who opened the Dimensional Hole. That would actually make a lot of sense. But how would Dusknoir keep that mad beast updated on his progress? Or did they agree on a time beforehand? Was Dusknoir continuously under time pressure? Or were some more henchmen of Primal Dialga involved, travelling through time, updating him?

Nothing sounds particularly likely. From what Darkrai remembers of Primal Dialga (which is decidedly too much, he almost shudders simply thinking about it), the Legendary was… well, his mental faculties were mostly gone. Which, if it was the one to create this Dimensional Hole, would also explain Darkrai's reaction to it - maybe, he can feel just the slightest bit of Primal Dialga's influence.

This mystery needs solving, of course, but maybe not today.

As everyone waits for Dusknoir to arrive – if Darkrai knows just a little about him (and he knows quite a lot by now), he is probably taking his sweet time gloating in front of Grovyle – they begin talking with each other, and Darkrai uses that time to move towards Uxie, Mesprit and Azelf, who are already at the square. Pearl follows closely behind him.

“You are unharmed?” He does not care, of course. He just… asks because that’s what a reformed Pokémon would do. And since he is obviously very reformed and definitely on their side, for now, they must expect him to ask.

“Yep!” Azelf answers, “Everything went according to plan, luckily. Dusknoir is really strong. Like, scarily strong. You think that might be a thing about Pokémon in the future?”

“That is good,” he remarks, and then, adds, “I am not sure… Maybe it is just those two, constantly pushing each other to get even stronger.”

“Makes sense,” Azelf agrees, “Because, I mean, Grovyle is already strong, and obviously, only the strongest guy would be sent after him.”

“Indeed,” Darkrai says, not sure what else to say to that. Luckily for him, he does not need to, because Pearl draws the three Legendaries into another conversation.

“I’m really glad all of you are safe!”

“We are, too,” Uxie says. “There were some… close calls, because as Azelf mentioned, Grovyle is quite strong and also very, very cunning.”

“He jumped unto the ceiling at one part of the fight!” Azelf says, his eyes wide, “We didn’t even notice him up there, at first!”

“And then, when he jumped down, he almost knocked Azelf out for good,” Mesprit adds, leading to Azelf huffing in protest.

“No, he almost knocked you out!”

Uxie, Darkrai is sure, rolls his eyes. “You stood next to each other, he would have knocked both of you out.”

“Oh wow, that is really scary,” Pearl adds, but Mesprit just claps herself on her chest, where her heart lies.

“Nah, don’t worry, we evaded him! He might’ve gotten the better of me the first time, but that was just because a certain someone fought me first.”

“Mesprit,” Uxie warns, before Darkrai can voice what he thinks about that, “We talked about this.”

“Sure, sure. Anyways, he was really strong, but naturally, we won.”

Here, Darkrai raises his eyebrow. “Naturally?”

“Darcy,” Pearl warns him, this time, at the same time as Uxie does. Ugh. He never thought that these two would team up.

“Well, but without Dusknoir’s help, the plan wouldn’t have worked, definitely,” Azelf interjects, and great, now Darkrai’s somewhat-good-mood just plummeted. Why does that annoying fraud have such a huge… such a… fanbase?! Even after he warned them about him!

“Yeah, I guess so,” Pearl says, but it does not sound as confident as it would have a week ago. At least with her, he did good work. “But, you know, we could’ve helped, too! Darcy’s really strong, he’d have been glad to have helped!”

Darkrai, having rejected the ask for help two times, looks at the very, very interesting ground. It looks like… ground. How fascinating.

“Really? You think so?” Mesprit asks, and as Darkrai glares at her, he can see a sardonic grin creeping unto her face. Before she can say more, though, Uxie explains, “We thought it wiser that you remain here, so that, if the worst happened, you could take revenge for us.”

“Oh!” Pearl exclaims, and then, she laughs. “Yeah, Darcy’s really good at that, too! Maybe even better than normal fighting.”

… She is not wrong, of course. He is very good at taking revenge. He also does it very often. For example, he is in the process of it right now.

“I don’t doubt that,” Azelf sighs, then smiles a conciliatory smile at Darkrai.

With an annoyed shake of his head, he decides to let the topic slide. They think him to have changed. They will make jokes, thinking them to be good-natured. That is normal, is it not? Pearl also does it, although in her case, it is easier to accept. Maybe because they do not have that much of a history.

It is just in time that their conversation ends, it seems – as Dusknoir finally arrives, together with Grovyle. Whose hands are not just bound, but who has also been muzzled. Seems as if Dusknoir wants to make sure that Grovyle won’t even be able to try to tell anyone the truth.

Two Sabeleye guard the grass type, making Darkrai recall, faintly, that they will be Dusknoir’s underlings in the future. He thinks. Which would imply that, since they appeared here, they either travelled here with Dusknoir, to hide until now; or who were sent back just previously, after Dusknoir somehow communicated the need for them through time and…

He is getting a headache.

Dusknoir then makes some great speech, about how he finally caught Grovyle, how this is such a great day, and all that jazz.

Darkrai does not care to listen – not because he is bored by it (Dusknoir, he has to admit, has a certain talent for speeches), but simply to not give Dusknoir the satisfaction of having everyone listen to what he is saying. Besides, finally, he will get rid of the ghost, and he will treat himself for that with not listening to him.

Instead, he watches Grovyle. Him being sent to the future now… Well, considering the set-up of the situation, it must have been like this even when Darkrai did not live through it, but did Grovyle not help to ruin his plans? A great help he was, what with simply failing in his self-assigned task of gathering the Time Gears.

Grovyle seems to be trying to speak, maybe even bite through the muzzle, but it is of no help to him. The bindings are much too tight, and everyone else is listening to Dusknoir, anyways. Still, he does not give up. He has always been persistent, that much, Darkrai knows.

But then, he seemingly notices Darkrai’s gaze, and locks eyes with him. At first, he just stares, intently, but then, he draws his eyebrows together, looks in the direction of Dusknoir, and in an incredibly small movement, shakes his head.

… Is he trying to tell him not to believe Dusknoir? Well, he does not, already, but if he straight up questioned Dusknoir’s authenticity here, it will not help anyone. No one would believe him, safe for, perhaps, Pearl. And what could the two of them do against the entirety of Trash Town and the guild? Not much.

Darkrai very, very lightly shrugs to tell Grovyle all that.

Grovyle’s eyes screw up in very obvious anger. He looks in the direction of Dusknoir again, then at Pearl and Darkrai, widening his eyes as he does so. What…? He really doesn’t understand. Does he really want them to try and fight everyone here?

His non-understanding of whatever Grovyle wants to tell him must show very clearly, as the other Pokémon looks towards the sky in a probably pleading motion. Oh come on, Darkrai is no Psychic Type, that much is obvious!

Grovyle tries one last time – looking first at Dusknoir, then at Darkrai and finally, he… shakes his head? No, he… moves it behind him? Behind Grovyle? But behind Grovyle, there is just the Dimensional Hole.

… He cannot decipher whatever Grovyle is trying to tell him.

Once again, he shrugs, as lightly as he can, but before Grovyle might try to tell him anew what he was so desperate to share, the Sableye force him in front of the Dimensional Hole – somewhat brutally, and really, is no one here going to question that? And then, as unwilling as Grovyle is, they force him into the future. Bound as he is, his tries of fighting back are quite weak.

So that is truly how it ends?

It must be, because the next moment, Grovyle is gone, and so are the accompanying Sableye. Just Dusknoir remains.

Darkrai then turns his attention towards Dusknoir.  He is not sure how he should proceed – should he try to keep Dusknoir here? Should he have stopped him from throwing Grovyle into the Dimensional Hole in the first place?

Ugh, if only he knew what happened in the original timeline! It is too late now, anyways – Dusknoir has already turned around and floated over to the Dimensional Hole. Should they follow…?

Suddenly, the ghost turns around.

“Oh, yes. Before I go… I must speak to two Pokémon,” he says and oh no, that seems to be leading to something bad. Maybe he means Chatot and Wigglytuff?

Please let it be Chatot and Wigglytuff.

“Pearl and Duskull, please.”

Ughhh. He knew that the chances for this were high, that Dusknoir, even if publicly, would try to interact one last time, but he really does not want to. But Pearl looks at him expectantly, and so does just about everyone else – Darkrai might not see their faces, what with his back to them, but he can clearly feel them.

…Maybe he could just… shove Dusknoir into the Dimensional Hole? Then, they would not have to talk. And he could even attack the Hole while Dusknoir is in it! If he gets lucky, the other would land in the future as an amnesiac.

Yes, that is a perfect plan!

… At least it would be, if he was not literally surrounded by all the town’s Pokémon, as well as Mesprit, Azelf and Uxie. And having fought Dusknoir once before (or at least tried to), he also knows that Dusknoir could not just be pushed. He is strong and heavy, the worst combination.

Why is life so hard if one cares about what others think of one’s actions?

It cannot be helped, it seems, and so he steps forward alongside Pearl. He does not try to make his gaze look even somewhat approachable, at least. Dusknoir can know what he thinks of the situation and, most importantly, him. His heartbeat picks up again, as he makes the mistake of looking at the Dimensional Hole behind Dusknoir.

Pearl opens her mouth, intent to say something, but closes it again.

Instead, Dusknoir talks. “You two… We have spent quite some time with each other, but I guess that this is truly… our good-bye…” He articulates it very slowly, but for what reason? Did he get hit in the head just now? Even his gaze seems to go through them.

Suddenly, he stares at them directly. “Or is it?”

And before Darkrai can even try to evade him, Dusknoir has grabbed both him and Pearl – what? WHAT?!

Darkrai screeches, not a word but a high, piercing sound, and tries to get Dusknoir’s hand off of him, he claws at him at a desperate try to break free, but Dusknoir is stronger. Of course Dusknoir is stronger!

And before Darkrai can attempt an attack, any attack at all, he does not care if the others now learn about Dark Void! he feels himself being thrown forwards, directly—

Directly into the Dimensional Hole.

Once again, Darkrai screams.

“It’s too soon for farewells!” The ghost’s voice resounds, but Darkrai really cannot concentrate on that right now, as he is currently being pulled through time and space.

The feeling of being about to throw up enters his throat, and as his body is thrown in every direction which exists, every direction that could never exist, as he exists in every time but none at all, as he is being pulled apart, from left to right, from front to back, from every direction, and he can do naught but concentrate on the few parts of him which seem to not be made of pain, right now, which seem to not weaken with every second that passes; and he can only try to hold unto the illusion as he feels time and space raging against it, as he just wishes that the pain could finally end, but knows that he must hold onto the illusion, he must—

Everything is spinning, spinning, spinning, his thoughts spin, spin, spin, and the only thought he holds tight is that his illusion cannot fail him, he needs to keep it going, he needs to—

And then, darkness overtakes.

 

Notes:

Alternative Ending: „What the fuck just happened,” says Mesprit.

So yeah, this concludes this behemoth of an update!

I'm sorry that I did not manage to update either at Christmas or New Years, but yeah, life gets busy; and knowing that all of you would understand just calmed me so much, so thank you for that! Really, you are such great people, and your comments and kudos and bookmarks and fanarts and everything just makes my days so much greater and... yeah.
Never worry that this story might be abandoned - the updates might slow down now and then, but it WILL be finished.

That being sad - the next chapter will, hopefully, be uploaded at the end of February - it is already written to a large degree, and in about a week, I will finally have two weeks of actual holidays! Well, I mean, I will still have to study and all that jazz, but at least I won't have to finish multiple essays ._.

Anyways, thank you all for your continued interactions with my fic, for your kind words, and hope to read you all again soon!

Chapter 18: The Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor

Summary:

Last Chapter(s): First, Pearl and Darkrai made to visit Uxie, so that Pearl could find out more about her ability, the Dimensional Scream. They found some old ruins in the vicinity of Treasure Town, where Pearl consciously managed to trigger her ability, to her delight.
The following day, there was a town meeting on the topic of Grovyle, where Dusknoir admitted to being from the future, and where Darkrai felt forced to admit his 'vision' of the future. After that Darkrai met with Uxie, Azelf and Mesprit and was forced to admit his true identity. He then met with Dusknoir, who warned him that Pearl might be more than she seems to be.
Last, the Lake Trio and Dusknoir left Treasure Town, and managed to apprehend Grovyle. Pearl and Darkrai had a talk about emotions and trust, which actually... got some things done.
Unfortunately, just shortly after, Grovyle was thrown into the future by Dusknoir, but so were Pearl and Darkrai.

Notes:

THIS CHAPTER HAS TRIGGER WARNINGS! Please continue reading for the specifics.

Before you start to read, please be aware, this chapter is very, very heavy with the topics it deals with! If you are not in a good head space, or don’t feel psychically well, PLEASE do not read it! The story can still be understood without it, and once I post the next chapter, I will post a “Last Chapter”-summary of this one.

That being said, there are a few specific trigger warnings for this chapter, those being:

TW: Depression, Internalized Self-Hate, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied Suicide Attempt, Feelings of Vomiting

Two of these possible triggers are marked within the story. Those are Implied Suicide Attempt – where it starts will be marked with “+++1+++” and where it ends with “+++2+++”. The second one is Feelings of Vomiting, which’s start will be marked with “+++3+++” and it ends at ““+++4+++”. If you do not want to read these parts, you can jump to the marked end and continue from there, I made sure that the story still makes sense without them!

And once again, if you are not mentally well right now, please, don’t read this chapter. It’s sad and it will make you feel worse; and the entire story can still be understood even without reading this chapter.

When she wakes, the first thing which she notices is that it is even colder than the day before. A glance outside confirms to her that, indeed, frost is starting to cover almost everything – leaves, grass, branches.

The sky is dark, although there is still some residue of light to be seen on the horizon; a thinly painted strip of light blue. Above it, the sky darkens rapidly, until it becomes a mass of dark grey and black, speckled only with the earliest stars of the night.

Almost everything is as it was yesterday, and the day before that, and what feels like most of her life before that, even. Although it has been getting noticeably colder. Still, she wonders why she even bothers with waking up. It is not as if anything is going to change today. It is not as if anything is going to change, ever.

But, well, now that she is awake, she might as well make use of it. Her hair is somewhat tangled from sleep, and her stomach gives a short, quiet rumble, reminding her that, indeed, she should perhaps eat something. And after that… Well. No need to think about what happens after that, yet.

And so, she goes through her routine. First, she brushes out her hair with her hand, to see if there are any big knots, and when there are none, she goes through it with the comb a certain someone brought her, when she noticed that, well, she did not own one, anymore. It is starting to show its age, and two of its wide teeth are broken at a halfway point. But the breaks gave her the task of grinding them until they were not so sharp, anymore, and while not something she would usually do, it was still a task, and that actually made it almost enjoyable.

After she is satisfied with the state of her hair, she rummages through one of the barrels hidden deeper within the cave she usually sleeps in, noticing that they are getting quite empty. She noticed that yesterday as well, of course, and the day before that, but seeing as it is winter, she will just have to wait until she is brought some more. None of the trees here carry any berries this time of the year, and she does not have grain to make anything from.

In the end, she simply decides on a pear for breakfast. It is not as if she actually eats that much, anyways.

The process of eating, and the accompanying drink, take their usual time, and then, she flounders. Why could past-her not have decided what she should do next? Now she will have to do it, instead.

She could read, maybe, one of the scrolls she already seems to know by heart, as she did yesterday. Or fight against another tree, try out moves she will never use against anyone but trees with the way things are looking, as she did ereyesterday.

+++1+++

Or maybe, she can try jumping off a cliff, again, and maybe this time—

No. No, she won’t do that.

She forces that thought down.

The reaction last time was… bad, and she promised not to do it again. And maybe breaking a promise should not mean more to her than her actual willingness to remain here, but it does, and so she will just have to continue to hold on. Unfortunately.

+++2+++

So what can she do instead? She could go to the beach on the south side, which’s coast is made of stones, as she does so very often. Maybe find some pretty stone specimens. Can stones even be called specimens? Or is there another word for them in this context? She would ask someone, if there was anyone else on this accursed island.

With a heavy sigh, she puts the frustrations behind a wall within her mind. Frustration won’t change her situation. Truly, if she really wanted to change it, she could do so whenever she wants to. It is just that she does not, in fact, want to change it. Or cannot change it, maybe. No, no, she just does not want to change it, she continues to tell herself.

She keeps that thought in mind as she makes her way down to the beach. If she wanted to change this situation, she could change it. If she wanted to change the world…

Another thought gets put behind an invisible wall.

She makes her way through the trees, never worrying about there being no path. There has never been a path, and there never will be, because she always tries to take another way. Because when every day already blends into each other, when everything is already so monotone, then the only thing she can really do is try to change the little things which can be changed. If she won’t allow herself to change the big things, if she can’t change them no matter how hard she tries, at least she can change the little things.

And finding another path through the trees is one of those things.

Soon enough, she is on what she has dubbed the ‘stone beach’, not to be mistaken with the ‘sand beach’ on the eastern side of the island, or the cliffs to the north and west side. Or the cave she sometimes calls home, right in the middle.

The beach looks a little different than it did the last time she was here – she had heard the waves two days ago, crushing with more strength than usual, and so, they changed the coastline, as they always do. Only a little bit, of course, but still enough to draw the tiniest smile out of her. Everything which is not monotony is good.

She makes her way forward, until her feet can touch the cool water. And although it is very, very cold, it makes her feel something else, something she does not usually feel, and so she walks across the coast, her feet always somewhat submerged in the water.

As she walks, her weight displaces the stones beneath her feet, and that, too, makes her smile a little. She still exists, as proven by the stones which would not change their positions if she had not walked here.

And after some time, she decides that she has had enough of walking, enough of cold and wet feet, and so she floats instead, still along the beach, and sometimes, she kneels down to inspect a stone more closely, to pick it up and stare at it appraisingly. They always look their prettiest when wet, but since they will dry up once she takes them with her, she is trying to imagine how they would look, then.

She has become very good at imagining that. This one she just picked up, for example – a deep black with some golden parts. Fool’s gold, she remembers the golden flecks being called. Pyrite, if one wants to be more exact. Pyrite inclusions? Or embedded pyrite? Once again, she does not know, and there is no one to ask. Maybe it is not even pyrite, but some kind of…

Well. She might not know stones all that well. She just likes to call them fool’s gold.

In any way, she knows that once it dries up, it will be more of a grey colour than the black it is now, that the golden parts may look a little more brown, or maybe orange.

She throws it into the ocean, so that it will either have to find its way to the beach again, in many decades, or to be swallowed up into the depths of the water, never to be seen by a land-dweller again. It was pretty, of course, but she already collected so many like it.

As she continues her way on the beach, a lightly brown coloured stone catches her gaze. It is not in the water but a little beside it, and as she picks it up, a grin ghosts across her face. The stone’s colour is light, very light, in fact. She already has a few like it, though, and therefore, she also throws it into the water. Her grin grows at it merely floats along, undecided whether it wants to float away, or be swept on the beach again. Pumice stones are fun.

For a while, she watches, as it, still undecided, continues to float, drawn in this and that direction. In the end, it ends up on the beach again, and she walks over and picks it up. Seems like it has decided.

As she makes her way to her abode again, she takes it with her, as well as two more stones – one with an interesting pattern, looking like crossing lines inset in an otherwise nondescript stone, and one that she is sure must be a brilliant red colour. It is not always easy to tell, of course, but maybe she can ask him if it really is red, once he comes here.

If he comes here, she reminds herself. No use being overly optimistic. Just because he seems to have made a habit of visiting her does not mean that he will continue doing so. In fact, she knows that one day, he will see her for the monster she is, and stop coming.

Maybe he already noticed it. Maybe he won’t come again. It was her, and her alone, who decided that staying here would be better, and he would be right to finally realize that.

She almost thinks about throwing the red stone back in the ocean, but it is already so far away, and throwing it into the forest just feels wrong. It does not belong there.

And so, she takes it with her, and once she has arrived at the place-she-sometimes-calls-home, since “place I stay at because I deserve it but which I don’t particularly like” takes just too much energy to say or even think. Most often, she calls it cave.

Once she has arrived there, she makes her way into it, right to the place where she sometimes sleeps – when it either gets too cold to stay outside, or when it rains, or when there is a storm, or when she wants to stare at a wall made of rock for multiple hours, or when the sunlight is much too annoying to sleep through. Right next to that place, she puts the collected stones, on a small table she fashioned herself out of a broken barrel. She does not recall whether the barrel broke because of age, or if something else happened, but it still makes a nice enough table. Her only table, to be exact.

Looking at it, there are really quite a lot stones on it, are there not? Maybe too many…? No, she decides. Only once she cannot squeeze anymore next to the others will there be too much, and then, she will find another place for them where she can still fit a few more.

Besides, she does not need a table for anything but stones. She does not eat enough to have the need to place food on it, and she has no activities which would demand for a table. Even when writing, she just crosses her legs and puts the scroll on there. Or sometimes, when she really wants to change things up, she pulls one leg up and leaves the other in what would be a crossed position, if there was something to cross it with, and then, she writes like that.

So really, she does not need a table for anything but stones and seashells.

Maybe, she thinks, she can go to the sand-beach tomorrow, and look for seashells. She has not nearly as many of those as she has stones on this table.

Maybe, she decides – or does not decide, really. She will leave that decision up to future-her, knowing that future-her will hate her for it. It draws a smirk from her. Infuriating herself is funny.

And then, the smirk disappears, because she thinks about it a little too long and realizes that it is actually quite sad, and then, she slams down an invisible wall in front of that thought.

After that, she thinks about what she should do now. A glance at the sky tells her that midnight is approaching, but not yet here, and going to sleep now would just make her wake up too early, probably when the sun is still in the sky, and that would make her cranky, so…

So she needs to do something. She could take a walk around the entire island, that would take her an hour and a half. Or, if she took her time, two. Three if she stopped as often as possible. But she already knows the island so well, that it will most likely be just over an hour.

She could try climbing a tree, she has not done that very often. But she does not like climbing trees, so why in Giratina’s name would she do so?

Maybe she could read one of the scrolls. Actually, she decided to learn all of them by heart, did she not? A tedious task, but it will kill some time, and that is what she is after, in the end. Well, not actually killing time. Dialga may not be on the friendliest of terms with her, and he can tend to be very annoying, especially with his habit of not learning about an adequate volume for talking, but he is not too bad a Pokémon. No one is, except for her.

She decides to randomly pick a scroll and learn a few more lines by heart. She needs some time to find the place where she last stopped that task, and then, she reads, and sometimes, she even does so out loud, hoping that she will remember some of the phrases.

“Whether they looked at the sky, whether they looked at the sea, their heart was braver than Pyroar are. They could predict a wind which had not yet come, a storm before it existed. A wind came up,…”

And so, she reads on, she repeats, and she reads some more.

Finally, she has enough, and closes the scroll again, careful not to accidentally damage it – some days, or maybe weeks ago, she had done so, had rolled up a scroll with too much anger, and had ripped it along one of its seams. She had not looked at it again, since then.

She tells herself it is because she does not want to damage it further.

She knows that it is because she is still ashamed of having her emotions get the best of her.

Emotions are, in most ways, weakness. They make one do things they would not do without them, make one feel things which one does not want to feel. Most of the time, at least.

Once she has finally bested her emotions, she promised herself, she will open that scroll again and read its contents. Maybe fix it. She is not sure.

A gaze at the sky, or what is visible of it from inside the cave, tells her that midnight had passed as she read, and that morning will be in about four hours. Still so much time, so very much time.

She does not hate Dialga, but sometimes, she thinks, she hates time.

So something else to do, huh? She almost laughs. Of course she needs something else to do. But instead of taking another scroll, or maybe taking another stroll – she snorts at that pun, maybe because it was so bad, maybe because she likes puns – she decides on lying down on her bedroll.

Not sleep, not yet, but instead to imagine things. Daydream.

She thinks for a long time what she wants to daydream about, and in the end decides on imagining a world where there is no her. A world where she never existed, where things were different, were better, because there never was a her to ruin all of it.

And without noticing, as she imagines what she believes to be a perfect world, she falls asleep.

 

She wakes the dawn of the next day, an abandoned scream in her throat, and the sun is still in the sky, albeit about to touch the horizon. She holds her hand above her eyes as she walks out of the cave, to watch it sink beneath the horizon, because it gives her something to do.

And then, once it is beneath the horizon, she realizes that on the opposite side of the sky, the moon is rising, and so, she turns into its direction, and watches it rise, watches it change from yellow to white, watches as the stars around it seem to disappear. A few days ago, it was a full moon, she remembers, and so now, it is waning. For a moment, she entertains the idea of watching it for so long that she will actively see it wane, but then she realizes that it is impossible. With a breath of air, she lets herself fall on her back unto the ground, and she ignores the cold, dead blades of grass digging into her back, ignores that, most likely, there will be dirt and grass in her hair once she sits up again.

No, right now she does not want to think about that, does not think about much at all. Today has become an empty day, she realizes. A day where nothing is fun, where even forcing herself to do anything at all might be asking too much.

And so, she just watches the stars instead, and like yesterday, imagines a world without her in it. And once that becomes boring, she just lies down on her other side and tries to count the blades of grass in front of her. And then, that becomes boring, too, and so, she turns towards the sky again, and just stares at it, feeling no emotion at all.

Falling asleep feels like a mercy. If only she could dream of not ever existing, but it seems to be too happy a thought for her dreams to consider it an option.

 

She wakes when the sun rises, or maybe when the nightmare she had becomes too much, and she realizes that she fell asleep outside. Dragging herself up, she stares at the bright sun, offended, throws a curse in its direction – but not at Solgaleo, because she is actually alright to be around – and then, dragging her feet over the ground, walks into her cave. She lets herself fall on her bed, and then, she stares at the wall for what feels like hours, trying to fall asleep again.

 

She wakes a second time, a scream escaping her throat this time. For a few moments, she lies on her side, doing nothing, and then she turns to the other side and falls asleep again.

 

The third time she wakes, it is night already, and not even a sliver of light blue is to be seen in the west. For a few moments, she plays with the idea of falling asleep again, but then she remembers the nightmare she just had and decides against it. Sometimes, her nightmares continue where they left off when she does not wait enough time after waking up, does not spend enough time keeping herself awake.

So instead, she stands up, and realizes that, truly, there is quite a lot of dirt and a few grass blades in her hair, and so she starts with the task of brushing them out. While doing so, her stomach gives a rumble, and she realizes that, once again, she forgot to eat. She always seems to do so on empty days.

Deciding to eat today, at least, she finishes the task of brushing her hair – or maybe, she stops after some time, getting bored with it, and there are not that many things left in it, anyways – and moves towards the barrels, deciding that, today, an apple will be a good start for the day. And then, after she has finished it, she realizes that, actually, a second one sounds great, and so she takes another out and bites into it.

And after that… Well. After that, she has to decide on what to do. Why could stupid past-her not decide that? Was that one moment of fun truly worth not coming up with plans before going to sleep? No, she decides. Past-her is just a sadistic bastard.

Maybe she could read some more, but she does not feel like it.

+++1+++

She could go to the cliffs. Not to do anything stupid, of course, not do something which would make others cry, but just to watch the ocean.

+++2+++

The way the waves break at the cliffs is always more fun to watch than the way they break at the beach. Unless the ocean is truly stormy. She recalls a song, then, thinking about a stormy ocean, but only its melody. The words flee her.

She just hums it under her breath.  

Finally, she decides on that course of action, and after finishing her second apple, moves to stand up. That is when she realizes that she also forgot to drink, and before her legs actually give out and do not merely shake, she does so. The water tastes stale, which is no surprise, because it is. Maybe she could gather some more at the small well she dug out some time ago, but that takes energy she can’t spare today, and anyways, the water is still drinkable. It just does not taste great, but she has dealt with worse.

And then, she makes her way to the cliffs. Just before she does so, she has an idea, and since she has them so seldomly, nowadays, she grabs an empty scroll and some ink and also some writing utensils, and then, she makes her way towards the cliffs. As always, she searches a new path through the trees which surround her little cave, and once the trees make place for only bushes, she also tries to find a way she has not walked, there. And when the bushes make way for just ground and rocks, she tries to only step on the roundest of stones, because she recalls having done so for the last time several weeks ago, so there is no harm in doing it again.

Finally, she arrives at her favourite cliff side, where a huge boulder can be reached with just a little climbing, or a daring jump, and as she stares at the scroll and ink and writing utensils in her hands, she decides that she will be daring. And if it does not turn out well for her, well, then it was actually just an accident.

She takes some steps back, and then dashes forward, and then, she jumps, and she lands, and has no accident. Not sure whether she should be sad or happy about that, she just decides to be indifferent, instead, because that is easiest. Then, she sits down, and for a while, watches the seemingly endless ocean. Of course it is not endless, she knows, but it is as far away from other islands as she could manage, and even if she jumped into the ocean now and swam for a day, she would not reach any of them but one. But if a water type took her along, then a day would be enough to even see the mainland again, and half a night on top of that to actually disembark there.

But she is not that great at swimming – still better than some others, but not great – and there are no water types which would take her along. There are no water type in the vicinity of this island. And there should not be.

Once watching the ocean gives way to thoughts she dislikes; thoughts she had to banished to the deepest depths of her mind, to hopefully be buried beneath everything else, to never resurface again; she decides to stop doing so. And so, instead, she rolls out the scroll on her lap, and she takes out a brush, wets it in her mouth, and brushes it on top some of the dried ink she took with her, to write with. And then, once the brush dries up too much, she repeats the process again, and again, and she writes.

Multiple times in the past, she was told not to put the ink into her mouth, and multiple times, she did not care. It is not as if she will die from it.

She writes for a very long time, longer than she would have expected. At first, she starts writing out words which have to do with the ocean, which she knows, and then, she starts translating them into other languages she knows, into other writing systems; and then she writes words about the sky and does the same again; and then she starts collecting grammatically connected words to the ones she wrote down which might not have to do with ocean and sky, but which might sound similar, or mean something similar, and suddenly, the sky is lightening up.

She stares at it in wonder, turns her head to the right side, and truly, there is a brightly coloured strip of sky is becoming taller by the minute.

This… she had not become so very absorbed in an activity in a very long time. A small smile graces her face, she can feel it, and she forces herself to stand up, forces her cramping legs to not give out under her. Once her legs feel almost normal again, she gathers her writing utensils, and she makes the jump back. Wandering over the stones, through the bushes, between the trees, she makes her way back to the place she calls home, and there, she puts her scroll amongst others she wrote, puts the ink and writing utensils in their intended place, and decides on some dinner, because she knows that she does not eat enough.

She will need some new ink soon, she realizes. But for now, she goes to sleep.

 

The next day is empty, again. And the day after that, too.

 

The next morning she wakes to the sound of humming. Humming? At first, she thinks it might still be part of a dream, but it is not a nightmare, she realizes, and that humming is really there. That can only mean—

“Cresselia?” she asks, not quite able to keep both the happiness and the annoyance out of her voice.

The answer comes quick, and it is a rhetorical question. “Who else?” says her sister, and she imagines her rolling her eyes at that, because she always does. One day, they might get stuck like that, and she will simply laugh about it, then.

A small smile ghosts over her face as she imagines it, and also because Cresselia is there, and then it disappears as she remembers the argument they had the last time she visited.

Either not noticing her thoughts, or deciding to ignore them, Cresselia floats over to her. “I brought some food.”

“Did you bring anything new to read?” she asks, sitting up, but the mien on Cresselia’s face tells her the answer before her voice does.

“No, sorry. I didn’t think you would already be finished.”

Her sister knows her, though, and she must know that obviously, she would have read all of them, so… either she forgot them and is too much of a coward to admit it; or she was still angry about their argument and decided to punish her. Or maybe, she truly does not realize how long days tend to be when you have only yourself for company.

“Oh,” she just says, instead of letting herself get angry, because she does not want another argument.

“I did bring you two new blankets, though,” Cresselia then says, “What with it getting colder again.”

She is almost about to tell her sister that the blankets she has are enough, that she made it through the winters before with just them, but then decides against it. Blankets are blankets, and who knows, maybe she can use them in a way she should not.

Maybe she could build a sail out of them, and build an accompanying raft, and then… Then stare at it, because she won’t travel the ocean, anyways.

“Thank you,” she finally says, dutifully, because there is not much else to be said.

“Anyways, how have you been doing?” her sister questions, and she knows that she does not really care, because she never does. She just wants her to spend some time talking, because she also knows that she does not do so very much when on her own.

Or maybe, she is being unfair right now, and Cresselia cares. Obviously she cares, she tells herself. Just maybe not about how she has been doing.

“I wrote, yesterday,” she finally admits, acting as if it was actually yesterday and not three days ago, “Almost the entire day.”

“Oh, a story?”

She shakes her head. “No, just words.”

As usual, Cresselia rolls her eyes. “Smartass.”

“Don’t use that word!” she chastises, and she likes the feeling in her chest that hearing the swear left, because for once, it does not feel so cold and dead. “Besides, that is really what I did. Words, in different scripts and languages.”

“Sounds… very much like something you would do.” Cresselia then smiles, but it does not quite reach her eyes.

She does not enjoy spending time here, and both of them know it, but still, without her regular visits…

“And… how did you spend the time?” she finally asks, because she does not care for it anymore than her sister does for what she did, but speaking is better than trying to figure out what to do every day, than having another empty day, than arguing with each other.

“Oh, I just… the usual, you know. I travelled a bit, met with some friends, visited some of the others.”

Does it usually sound like that, when siblings talk with each other? She is not sure. The others who are siblings usually sound different, but then again, they are different. When they were younger, she and Cresselia could also talk much more easily, but…

Things change. Except for some things.

“Sounds fun,” she answers, and then floats over to the barrels, to inspect what Cresselia brought. More fruit, as usual, but also some sweets. And some bread. She takes a piece of that, because she has still not learnt how to bake it on her own. Or is missing an oven to do so. And yeast. Where would she even get yeast? She has no clue.

“You know, maybe,” Cresselia starts; and already she dreads whatever her sister is about to say, because whenever she starts like this, it will either be accusing or a stupid idea, “If you tried not to give everyone nightmares, you could actually join me once—”

“Well, too bad,” she huffs, annoyed that this old argument is getting dragged up again, not even ten minutes after she woke up, “Because I can’t.”

“So you’d rather seclude yourself, for all of eternity?” her sister asks back, her voice rising already, “If you just tried harder—”

“I tried harder!” she interrupts with a cry, because she did not want to continue their argument where they left off, last time, but now Cresselia started it anyways and ruined everything, like she always blames her for ruining everything. “I can’t stop it!”

“As if!”, Cresselia shouts back, “You’re just allowing yourself to be too weak about it!”

Her words hit hard, as they always do, because deep down, she knows that Cresselia is right, that maybe, if she just tried a little harder, she could stop her nightmares from encroaching upon the minds of others, that if she had tried harder, no one would have ever needed to die because of her foolishness, that if she tried harder—

But at the same time, she hates Cresselia for her words, because how would she know? She only brings great dreams, she has been loved by everyone around her from the day she was born, she has never had to actually try to be good at anything, because she always just was; and all those feelings climb up her heart, into her throat, and then, they spill out as words, meant to hurt and nothing more.

“At least I don’t fool myself into thinking others actually like me!” she hisses back, and then, in as cold a voice as she can muster, adds, “And at least I don’t search out my failure of a sister whenever I feel down, to remind myself that I am still that much better than her, at least.”

“Darkrai!” Cresselia cries, the shock, the hurt clear in her voice, and for a moment, a tiny moment, Darkrai relishes in the hurt she has caused. And the next moment, feelings of regret and self-loathing crash down over her, and like a wave of the ocean breaks a ship in a storm, she feels herself break, because she does not want to say these things.

But Cresselia asked for it, did she not? It’s her own fault!

Horrified at that thought, she banishes it to never be thought again; and she hopes that it will never resurface.

And maybe, she should apologize, tell Cresselia that she did not truly mean it, that she is sorry, but she has always disliked apologizing; and apologizing would mean admitting that she actually does not agree with what she said, still, and so she simply crosses her arms and stares at Cresselia defiantly.

When no attempt of an apology comes, Cresselia seems to get truly angry, and as she takes a breath to berate Darkrai, as usual, she is suddenly overcome with fear. Her previous bravado all but disappears, and the unwillingness to hear what she already knows appears instead. Before Darkrai can think the better of it, she has turned towards the shadows, and like that, she flees, ignoring all shouts from her sister.

Finally, she comes to a halt at the cliffs – she did not plan on coming here, but she also does not regret it. As she gets out of the shadows, she stares at the cliffs for a few moments, and then, floats towards her favourite boulder, to jump unto it as she did yesterday. She takes some steps back, dashes forward, jum—

“Darkrai, NO!” comes a horrified cry from behind her, and it costs her the gathered concentration, and the next thing she knows, she stumbles instead of jumping, but there is no ground to fall upon in front of her, and then, she is falling—

With a painful impact, she crashes against the boulder she wanted to jump unto, and her reflexes are to thank for her grabbing on immediately, instead of just falling further. Her entire body hurts, but…

She takes a deep breath.

But it could be much worse, because there are only about five metres to the ground from here. Even if she had truly fallen, not much would have happened, probably.

“Darkrai!” Cresselia, because who else could it be, cries again, her voice closer this time. Darkrai stares around the side of the boulder she is now holding unto.

She could jump the last few metres, certainly. Walk over to where she normally makes her way down, and then go up that way, and not to the boulder, because Cresselia… well.

Or, she thinks, staring a little to the side of the boulder, where she normally climbs up, if she takes the long way, she could climb over there, and then make her way down there. And considering that her entire body hurts like she just, well, crashed into a boulder, she decides that, yes, that is truly the smarter course of action.

“Are you-, Oh thank Arceus, you are alright,” Cresselia says, peering over the edge and seeing not the chasm she must have thought to lie here. Darkrai just nods, the air not yet having fully returned to her lungs.

None of them speak more as she makes her way up again, but the moment her feet touch the ground, Cresselia immediately speaks up, because whenever she does not know what else to do, she speaks too much. “I was, fuck, I was so worried, are you alright? Does anything hurt, do you need anything? I’m sorry I made you feel like, like, fuck, why would you even do that, I thought you promised—”

Here, Darkrai interrupts. “I didn’t break it,” she says, and when Cresselia stares at here, not understanding, she elaborates. “The promise, I mean. I like sitting on that boulder. I just need to jump to get there quickly.”

“You… you didn’t…?”

“No,” she ascertains. “I mean… I promised.” And then, her legs give out, and she sits down heavily. Cresselia follows at a more sedate pace, but finally, sits down, too, not a metre between them.

“I’m…” Cresselia speaks, after minutes have passed, “I don’t just visit you whenever I feel like it. I visit you as often as I can, but…”

“But you have more important things to take care of, I know,” Darkrai finishes the sentence. Cresselia does not correct her, because there is nothing to correct.

Darkrai does not mention that Cresselia came much more often, when Darkrai had not been living here for so very long. She does not mention that by now, sometimes a month passes until Cresselia visits again, when previously, she had never let it be more than three days.

Because she understands. Of course she understands. Cresselia cannot spend all her time here. Cresselia cannot put all her energy into providing for Darkrai, or talking with her. She is responsible for good dreams, and so, she is important. She… has more important things to do than care for her no-good sister.

That’s not her fault.

Just Darkrai’s, for being… bad. Wrong. Evil.

And maybe Arceus, Darkrai thinks, sometimes, because did Arceus not create this world? But then, she immediately tells herself that, no, of course Arceus is not at fault. Just Darkrai.

“Do you want to go back home?” Cresselia suddenly asks, and for but a moment, Darkrai thinks that she is offering that… that Darkrai might leave this island, that there is a way for her to safely do so, but then she realizes that Cresselia meant the cave, and not… something else. But it becomes clear when Cresselia adds, “Looking at the cliff makes me… uneasy.”

+++1+++

Darkrai’s emotions crash down as she almost did when jumping to the boulder, but she forces herself to nod. She knows why it makes Cresselia uneasy, and she still feels guilty for it, of course, but… But she does not feel uneasy, even though it was her who almost…

+++2+++

Well.

But still, she stands up, and Cresselia also does so, and together, they make their way back to the cave she might as well call home.

Darkrai knows what comes now, of course. They will talk some more, share some food, and then… Then, Cresselia will leave. Maybe she will stay the day, but… It has been a long time since she last did that. She is visiting only so seldomly now, and staying so much shorter.

But Darkrai does not resent her for that, of course not. She deserves this, after all.

 

When Darkrai wakes the dusk of the next day, Cresselia is already gone. She is not surprised that her sister did not stay to sleep here. She almost never does, anymore.

Sometimes, Darkrai wonders if that is also her fault.

The following day (or, well, technically night) is, of course, an empty day. Although her new blankets are… nice. She stacks some blankets on top of each other, and their weight feels comforting.

It is just a shame that the bread might go to waste, but even knowing that, she can’t make herself care enough to eat it.

 

Days pass, as they always do. Some, she spends doing the few things she can do. Reading. Taking walks. Collecting stones or seashells. Sometimes fighting against trees. And when it is warmer, she sometimes goes swimming even – she has definitely gotten better at that, ever since coming here. But she can’t do that now, unless she wants to freeze to death.

Other days, she spends doing nothing much of anything.

Whenever she feels more than emptiness again, she realizes that she really, really hates staying on this island. And then she thinks that, maybe, she should leave it.

But as always, she does not.

More days pass.

 

On one evening, there is not just frost tipping leaves and grass, but actual snow covering parts of the island. It is thin blanket, and in most places, she can still see the ground, but it is still big enough of a change that she allows herself to smile.

Snow is unusual for this place, at least most of the time. On some days, it will fall, and on even fewer remain lying on the ground. Probably because the ocean is too close, or something. She does not quite know, and she has no one to ask and nothing to read about it.

But in the end, it does not matter. At the moment, there is snow on the island, and she decides that this makes her happy. And because she is happy, she takes a walk around the island, making sure to visit both beaches and the cliffs, and even if it is cold, she also makes sure to sit on her boulder for a little while. She does not read or write, while there, because it might snow again, and then her scrolls could get wet, and she really does not want that to happen.

But she sits there, and she closes her eyes, and she smells the air which smells like ocean, but also like snow.

When it finally gets too cold, she stands up again and makes her way back to the place she calls home, and there, she takes out one of her old blankets, and a second one, a new one, this time, and she wraps herself in them until she feels warmer again.

Maybe, she realizes, she should have collected some wood, so she could make a fire, but… She has done without, more often than not, and anyways, winter never stays around very long on this island, and she has more blankets than she can count.

Of course that is a lie, because sometimes, she counts them, and ever since Cresselia brought her the two new ones, she has exactly nine blankets, of which four are really thick and make a great bed, two which also have a great weight which is perfect on days she feels especially lonely, to wrap herself in, two which are of a medium thickness, which she uses when it is neither cold nor warm, and one that is more just a thin piece of fabric, which she likes to use when it is very warm but she still wants to feel covered while sleeping. Or when she needs to keep the incessant sunlight from her eyes, and then she puts it over her face, and because it is so thin, when she scrunches it up right, her eyes are shielded but she can still breath through it easily.

Maybe, she suddenly realizes, she should take up sewing. She is sure she could craft a needle from… a twig maybe, or a stone. Although that would probably be a really rough and big needle. Maybe she can ask Cresselia for a needle and some fabric, next time she is there. Oh, and thread. Or could she maybe use her own hair for thread? It is certainly long enough.

She could sew together all of her blankets, so she has one giant blanket. Which would be a really stupid thing to have and would serve no purpose, but then she could take it apart again. She is sure she could spend a few days like this, if not weeks, and it would at least be something new to do.

Or she could try sewing actual things like… like…

What do other Pokémon sew that’s normal?

Sails, she realizes, sails are probably sewn. Or are they just really, really big pieces of fabric? Maybe there are many types of sails.

And… dolls. But she does not want to sew dolls. She thinks. Although, maybe having something she could talk to, even if it could not talk back, or think, or feel, would be nice. Oh, that is depressing, she realizes. But maybe it would do her good to speak more, even if to a soulless, sad husk of a being.

Well. She will have to wait for Cresselia to come again, anyways, and then she will have to ask for it, and then she will have to wait for Cresselia to leave and come again, and she will have to hope that Cresselia doesn’t forget about it, as she often does.

Sometimes, she wonders if Cresselia forgets on purpose. If she wants Darkrai to suffer, and that is why she only brings things Darkrai did not ask for, and forgets the ones she did want; but then she reminds herself that, no, Cresselia is just forgetful like that. She has…

She has no reason to make Darkrai suffer, she tells herself. She tells herself that until she believes it again.

But sometimes, Darkrai wakes from nightmares where she realizes that, of course Cresselia hates her. There is no reason she should not. And every time that happens, she starts hating Cresselia just a little in turn.

 

Weeks pass, as they always do. As always, they pass so very slowly, even if Darkrai does nothing for days on end. There is snow one more time, but it is an empty day, and Darkrai, no matter how hard she tries, cannot bring herself to care about the snow. The day after, when she can care again, it has already melted away.

Cresselia visits her once, and she brings her new scrolls to write on, and new scrolls to read, and also food, and a tenth blanket, but more, she had not been able to carry.

Darkrai does not care, because she now knows that Cresselia is not punishing her. No, else she would have only brought food again, or maybe food and the blanket.

But when more of the scrolls turn out to be empty than not, and when Cresselia forgot to bring new ink for Darkrai to write on them with…

She forces her doubts down. Cresselia does not know how to scheme in this way. If she wants to punish Darkrai, she never makes a secret of it. She is just forgetful. Next time… next time she will definitely bring new ink.

… Right?

 

More weeks pass. Sometimes, Darkrai thinks of giving up, but… the sun will rise, and the moon will set, and the days will pass. They always do. So there is no reason to give up just yet. Not as long as time still passes.

And one day, Darkrai wakes up, and realizes that something… is different. Not different because she woke around midday, while the sun is still high in the sky – although that is certainly very different. But there is something else that is different.

For a few more moments, she is too tired to tell what it is, but then, finally, she realizes that it is the sound of a voice.

A voice which is not her sister.

And although the day might have almost started empty, a smile then creeps unto her face, and instead, she forces herself to stand up, and to quickly brush her hair to look almost presentable. She even drinks a little bit, so she doesn’t just fall due to dizziness. Then, she hurries to where the voice can be heard from, which is down to the stone beach.

There, two Pokémon are, of which neither are her sister.

One is Lapras, who never really interacts with Darkrai, but at least doesn’t look at her as if she is a monster simply for breathing (even if she knows that she is), and the other… is Azelf.

As Darkrai moves closer, the voices, just a noise before, slowly become words to be made out. She tries to keep quiet, so as to not alert Azelf to her presence just yet, who has his back turned to her. And who is wearing a small bag, slung over his shoulder. Maybe he brought something interesting again.

She creeps further, and Lapras might see her, anyways, but that is a risk she is willing to take. It is not as if she is actually doing anything illegal. She is just keeping quiet, and she is quiet most of the time, even if there is no one to be sneaked upon.

“…but yeah, thanks anyways! But I think I should really make my way up now, no need to leave her waiting! Although she’s probably still asleep.” Azelf laughs, turns around, and lets out a surprised squeak when Darkrai is, well, right behind him.

“You—! I didn’t hear you!”

Darkrai hums in agreement. “I figured.” Then, she cannot help herself, she grins. “You are here.”

“Yep!” Azelf says, “I am! How are you?” As he speaks, he starts moving in the direction of Darkrai’s cave, and Darkrai follows.

“Normal,” she answers, because she has always hated this question. What is she supposed to say to it? ‘I’ve had more empty days than usual the last weeks’? ‘I sometimes hate Cresselia even if she doesn’t deserve it’? ‘Bad, I really, really hate being stuck here’?

No, of course not. No one wants to hear that, and she does not want to share it, anyways. “And how are you?” she then asks, because even if she does not quite get small talk, she still knows how to do it.

“Oh, also the usual, I guess! There hasn’t been happening much, not that it ever really does.”

Darkrai stares at Azelf, unimpressed. “I am quite sure that more has happened to the rest of the world than to this island.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s totally true. But it’s not like it was anything too much out of the ordinary, I guess? Mesprit’s still a drama queen, Uxie’s still a know-it-all, Dialga and Palkia had a shouting match two weeks ago, about, well, that doesn’t matter. Don’t think they’d want me to share it. Although now that I think about it, it could’ve just been a normal conversation. They actually did not seem very aggressive. Just… loud.”

“But that is normal for them, is it not?”

“Yeah, it is… Okay, now that I recall it, I think they were actually just talking.” He laughs.

They have arrived at Darkrai’s humble cave, and she takes two of her thick blankets and starts folding them, so that Azelf and her can sit down on them. Azelf will probably want to sit at the table, which... is still filled with pebbles and seashells, Darkrai notices, staring at it. Ugh. She should have thought about that before she started placing them there, but…

She had not been sure if Azelf would come again. Maybe she should believe it, by now, because he has made it a habit to visit her at least five times a year, for the last… what, ten years? Twelve? But each and every time, she wonders if this time, it will have been the last, because there will always have to be an end. And because she does not see why he would still… want to visit her.

In any way, she finishes folding one blanket, and places it on the ground, pointing at it for Azelf to sit down. He does not do so. Instead, he continues watching her. She dislikes that, but does not tell him so. Instead, she folds the second blanket, and places it vis-à-vis of the one she placed for Azelf. Then, she stares at the desk. Well. Azelf saw it already, anyways, and taking everything off just to have to rearrange it is stupid.

“Are you thirsty?” Darkrai asks, and also, “Or hungry?” because she can be a good host when she wants to be.

“Oh, yeah, actually! Travelling here always takes a while, I’m honestly impressed your sister does it so often without feeling completely powered out.”

“Fullmoon Island is closer than the coast,” Darkrai says, because she does not want to dwell on the fact that her sister is doing it progressively less often as time goes on. Then, she moves over to the barrel to take out some fruit, and also some of the bread. It might taste a little stale, but then again, it almost always does.

“True,” Azelf admits, taking the offered bread and choosing some cheri berries to go along with it. Darkrai does not tell him that they will not be spicy, as he probably expects, because they are winter-grown cheri berries, and those are always more bitter. Watching his face once he realizes will be much funnier. “And I guess she’s also definitely better than I when it comes to floating over huge bodies of water. I’m really happy Lapras helps me come here.”

“The ocean still scares you?”

Azelf nods and pops a cheri berry in his mouth. The next moment, he draws a grimace, but in his defense, he does still eat it. Darkrai snorts, but at Azelf’s hurt mien, immediately forces herself to at least seem like she did not do this on purpose. And then, she even decides to be nice and therefore brings Azelf a cup filled with water, which he, most definitely gratefully, accepts and swallows down, to wash away the taste.

Then, he finally answers. “It’s just like… where does it end? With my lake, I know how deep it is, and how wide, and how long. But the ocean just goes on and on, and you can’t see how deep it goes, and you could just drown and never be found…” He visibly shudders.

“You could also drown in Crystal Lake,” Darkrai objects, although she does entirely understand where Azelf is coming from.

“I mean, yeah, sure, but at least I’d probably be found sometime. Also, it’s not like there’s unexpected currents beneath the lake. I know where they are, and they aren’t really too strong.” Azelf takes a bite out of his bread.

“I know where most currents are, here, too,” Darkrai objects, once again, not because she is actually trying to prove a point, but because this conversation is fun, and she does not want it to die too soon.

After swallowing his bite, Azelf answers. “Emphasis on most. Besides, don’t they change from time to time?”

Darkrai bows her head in agreement. “Sometimes,” she adds, verbally. “Some more often than others.”

“Yeah, and that’s creepy! Really creepy! I still don’t understand why Uxie likes taking swims in her lake so often.”

Darkrai, for a moment, is disoriented – last time Azelf was here, Uxie went by ‘him’ – but then she adjusts, and the next moment, it does not sound strange anymore.

Sometimes, she wishes she could also change her pronouns as easily, because lately, she has been feeling more and more like a ‘him’; but Cresselia has always been a ‘she’, and probably will always be one, and Darkrai just…

If Cresselia can be good and loved, maybe if Darkrai could be just the tiniest bit like—

“Anyways! Change of topic,” Azelf declares, stopping Darkrai from these thoughts, luckily. “I’ve got something with me!” He pats the bag he has still slung over his shoulder, and then puts the bread he still has in his lap to open the bag.

“Look!”

Darkrai looks, as commanded, while Azelf pulls out… a round, flat object. It looks like a thin version of an Omanyte’s shell, almost, what with a spiral incision, which is divided into smaller segments. It is made of wood, Darkrai can tell, but besides that, she is really not sure what this is supposed to be. Maybe a shield? But it is quite small. Although Azelf is small, too.

And then, Azelf pulls out some more things – little figurines, Darkrai realizes. Incredibly little figurines. They are odd shapes, but from this distance, she cannot tell what they are trying to depict. Or if they are actually trying to depict anything.

But Azelf is grinning, so it must be something good, she thinks.

“This is…?” she carefully asks, and Azelf smiles.

“A game!”

“A game?”

“Yeah! Okay, so here’s our playing board.” He points at what Darkrai assumed to be a small shield and lays it down between them. “And these are what we’ll be playing with!” He lays out the figurines on the board, and Darkrai can finally tell that they are, most likely, depicting tiny Pyroar, male and female.

“Well, mostly,” Azelf then sheepishly admits. “Wait, I’ve still got some more things we’ll need in my bag…” He trails off as he starts rummaging through it.

“But yeah, I thought we could play it! The rules aren’t exactly simple, but knowing you, you’ll be trouncing me once you’ve got the hang of it, anyways.” He continues searching through his bag. It is tiny. Why would something get lost in there?

While still searching through it, he starts to explain. “So, anyways, the rules! So each of us has…”

 

It is when Uxie shouts out in panic that Darkrai realizes that this is, decidedly, not her own nightmare. No, instead it is Azelf’s, because he is an idiot and he always stays longer than a single day, and that means that he also sleeps next to Darkrai, and…

The first few times, Darkrai tried to send him away, but Azelf always refused. At first, he tried to explain to her why he should stay; and when she lost her patience and tried to knock him out – to give him to Lapras to take back to the mainland – Azelf just hid on the island until Darkrai gave up. They had the argument some more times, but in the end, Darkrai realized that, as long as Azelf wants to stay on the island, no one can make him leave.

And so, he stayed.

Obviously, he has nightmares every night because of this, and Darkrai might have tried to mitigate them, to change them to something else, at first, but by now she has realized that her direct involvement in others’ dreams generally makes them much worse than they should be. Sometimes, she still finds herself within them, because sometimes, she does not fall asleep before Azelf, and then she will hear the nightmares calling out to her, and sometimes, she is just too weak to resist their call. Or to even realize that they are calling to her. And just like now, she will suddenly find herself in the dream, seeing Azelf’s worst fears.

It was how she initially learnt that Azelf feared the ocean. If anything about that was funny, Darkrai would laugh, but she hates forcing others to bare their fears before her. What is she supposed to do with knowledge of that? Shame them? How hypocritical that would be.

And so, as always, she carefully leaves the nightmare, trying to not make it worse on accident – she had gotten better at not doing so, before she came to this island, but now… Now, she has gotten worse again. Once again, she makes it worse, because she hurries too much, and just as she leaves, she can hear another imaginary scream – Mesprit, of course.

And then, she gasps, and sits upright. The sun is high in the sky, and next to her, Azelf lies, tossing and turning every which direction. Darkrai knows that Azelf will probably still want to sleep some more, and that waking him up will just be a short relief, but…

“Azelf,” she calls, but Azelf continues to sleep.

“Azelf!” she repeats, louder, but Azelf still sleeps.

Finally, she grabs his shoulder and shakes him, and then, she almost gets hit in the face by his fist. She is too slow to react to it in any way, but Azelf stops it just before her eye.

“Fucking shit, Darkrai, don’t scare me like that!”

“I did not mean to,” she says, staring to the side. Then, she tries to pierce him with her gaze. “And do not use those words.”

“Did I? Shi-, I mean, sorry.”

She hums. “I… truly did not mean to. The nightmares. You know…”

“I know,” Azelf readily agrees, “Don’t worry. Sure, they suck, but I know that being here will cause them, and I still don’t care. We’ve been over it.”

And Darkrai knows the truth of his words, but that still does not stop her from feeling so very bad about it all.

“Anyways!” Azelf interrupts her thoughts, “I’m off to sleep again, catch some more hours before the sun’s fully gone.”

Darkrai nods, but then realizes that Azelf has already laid down again, and could not possibly see the movement. She thinks about verbalizing it, but then realizes that now too much of a pause has existed, and to still say it would just be… weird.

And so, instead, she also lies down, and soon, falls asleep too.

 

“I mean, you can absolutely keep it!”

“No, it is yours,” Darkrai tries to object, but Azelf, as usual, has set his mind on her having it, and whenever he does that, there is not much one can do to change it. Or, to be honest, there is nothing. If Azelf set his mind on ending the world, he would succeed. No one could stop him... Probably also because he could change the will of others to not want to stop him, or actually helping him, but that is… beside the point. And also scary to think about.

“Yeah, but I can easily get another one! What about you, huh?”

“I could…” She starts, thinks about it, and then continues, “I could make one, myself. I have wood here, and stones.”

Azelf theatrically scratches his head, as if actually thinking about it. “And have you ever done woodworking? Or stone carving? Got any tools for it?”

Darkrai stays silent.

Azelf laughs. “That’s what I thought! Besides, are you really sure you remember exactly how it looks?”

“Yes.”

“I mean, I bet you have a great memory; or actually, I know you do, but that good? Nah, I think that’s just Uxie.”

Darkrai definitely does not pout or anything. As if! She’s definitely got an infallible memory, Azelf can say whatever he wants.

“Also, you gave me all these cool stones, so like, do you really have any cool ones to carve left?”

“I could certainly find some more—”

“But none as cool as mine!” Azelf mock-protectively grabs his bag, where he put the stones and seashells gifted to him. She sometimes wishes she could give him… more interesting things, but her writings are private, and besides that, there really is not much else to give.

Darkrai critically raises her eyebrow, but then can’t stop a grin from growing on her face. Azelf is always like that, and it always puts a smile on her face.

“Anyways, I guess I’ll leave tomorrow,” Azelf suddenly changes the topic, and Darkrai is not… surprised. All of their interactions today told her that already, because Azelf always feels bad for leaving her alone again, and tries to play it over with even more of his ridiculous behaviour.

But it is better, anyways – like this, Azelf won’t be agonized by bad dreams every night, anymore; and he also won’t have to spend time around Darkrai. She knows that it cannot be truly enjoyable, after all, but she is still thankful for the pity it must be that Azelf returns again and again. Even if it is out of pity, it is fun. It is something different.

 

Darkrai jerks awake, a loud noise still ringing in her ears. At first, she is confused – where? who? what? – but the next moment, she realizes that, of course, Azelf. A nightmare. What else could it be? For some moments, she just watches him, his face drawn in a grimace, gripping his blanket violently, letting out little whimpers now and then. The worst thing is, she is not sure whether she should wake him or not – because Azelf will fall asleep again, and he will have nightmares again, and waking up will just be a little reprieve.

But then, looking towards the cave’s exit, she realizes that the sun will soon start to rise; because the last day that Azelf stays, they always change their sleep cycle, so that Lapras and Azelf can depart at morning and make use of the day’s light while traversing the ocean. Azelf would hate to not even see one ell beneath its surface.

So Azelf would not miss many hours of sleep. Waking him up is the course to go, it seems.

“Azelf,” Darkrai calls, and when Azelf, as usual, does not wake after that first call, she repeats it, louder, “Azelf!”

Azelf whimpers once again and Darkrai hates, hates, hates that noise. Azelf should never need to sound like that. One more time, she calls out, “AZELF!” but still, he does not wake, and so, she touches his shoulder, disliking the feeling it leaves on her hand but knowing that it is necessary. She already prepares herself to perhaps evade a fist, or a slap, and she shakes him, once, twice, but still, he does not wake.

That…

Worry is starting to claw up its way up her throat.

But no. No, his sleep must just be particularly deep.

She grabs him with both her hands, then, one on each shoulder, and she shakes him again – if she gets hit for it, then so be it. As she does, she calls his name, again. But still, he does not wake.

He does not wake.

No.

“AZELF!” she screams at him, and then, in a desperate try, slaps him. Except for a loud exhale of air, nothing happens.

No, no, no!

Again and again, she tries to shake him; but he does not wake, he does not wake, no matter what she does! Suddenly, she has an idea, and she knows that it is a bad idea, but still, she forces herself up, and hurries to her water reserve. She grabs one of the buckets, fills it to the brim, and hauls it over, and then, not even bothering about the blanket which will get drenched alongside Azelf, splashes it on his face. A great cry of terror is her answer, and she almost lets out a sigh of relief, because surely, he woke up now—

But he didn’t.

He is still asleep.

Still caught in a nightmare.

And he won’t wake up again.

The moment she realizes what she has done, her strength leaves her, and before she has realized what is truly happening, she finds herself hunched on the ground, trying to breathe through the panic spreading through her entire body. Inside her chest, it feels like wildfire and a tsunami, like a storm and an earthquake, and it leaves her no room to breathe.

She gasps, and gasps again, and tries to breathe out the little air she has in her lungs, and then she tries to breathe in, and out, in and out, and then a sob escapes her, and another, and soon, each breath in is a staccato, and each breath out is a whimper.

No, no, no, no, no!

+++3+++

She sobs, again and again, until she can barely breath through all the sobs, until she feels physical pain in her throat, and she retches up empty air, once, twice, but she can’t even vomit. And then she sobs even more, until she feels like blacking out, but she does not, of course she does not. It would be too kind if she did.

+++4+++

She continues sobbing, struggling to breath, and next to her, she can hear Azelf continue to whimper, can hear him toss around, can hear him shout, from time to time.

Why… Why is she such a failure?! She likes Azelf, so why… why force him into an endless nightmare?

She sobs and ignores the tears running down her face, the snot in her nose, ignores the urgent need to breath, because she still can’t, she still can’t, ignores the feeling of her chest being compressed so much it feels like something must be breaking.

There comes a noise from Azelf, then, which sounds different and for a tiny moment, she allows herself to hope. That maybe, he was just sleeping very deeply, and he just woke up. That maybe, he played an extremely bad prank on her. That maybe, this is just her very own nightmare, and he is waking her up from it right now.

But then she looks at him, wipes away the tears to truly see him, but his face is still a grimace of pain, and he is still grabbing his now-wet blanket and Darkrai loses it, once again, and sobs and sobs and sobs.

 

It is when the sun has already risen that Darkrai is finally, finally able to form a somewhat coherent thought, because she won’t let Azelf waste away. She won’t, and if she has to leave this island for that and search the entire world for Cresselia, she will do so; and if she cannot find her, then she will find another way.

And then, a thought strikes her. Lapras!

Lapras always leaves after bringing Azelf to the island, but they always arrange when Lapras shall come again, to fetch Azelf, bring him back to the mainland. And Azelf wanted to leave today, so Lapras must be here! She simply must be!

And so, Darkrai is about to hurry down to the beach when she realizes that Azelf is still covered in a wet blanket, and it is still cold.

Shit, she allows herself to think, and even though she hates it, she peels Azelf out of the blanket, and lifts him, thankful for his light weight and small stature, and she places him on Darkrai’s blanket instead, and gets another blanket, and, well, tucks him in. It feels wrong. Azelf should not be forced to lie on Darkrai’s blankets, not after what she just did to him – is doing to him – but she… she needs to get to Lapras!

She spares a glance at the wet blanket, lying discarded on the floor, but hanging it up to dry would take too much time. Then, she looks at Azelf one more time, but he still has not woken up, and he is still suffering so very much.

And after that, she wastes no more time and hurries to the beach. She turns into a shadow for it, because it is by far faster, even if she must be careful not to accidentally run into a tree. But even if she did, she would deserve it, just as she deserves the ugly feeling she has where she touched Azelf.

What a despicable being she is, feeling like that, even when Azelf is her friend. Was her friend.

She arrives on the beach in record time – what would normally need a quarter of an hour or more took her not even a sixth of an hour – and leaves the shadows behind, and truly, as she shields her eye from the intense sunlight, she can make out Lapras. The sun must have risen during… everything else.

She hurries over, ignoring that she is out of breath already, because she deserves this burning in her chest.

“Lapras!” she shouts, and Lapras looks at her, bewilderment clear in her gaze, “Lapras!” she repeats as she comes to a rapid stop before her, and then, she has to take some moments to breath, even if each breath burns.

“Good morning,” Lapras carefully says, because they have never truly talked before, and she must feel so very bewildered. “Was there some change in the plans?”

“Cresselia!” Darkrai just says, and when she realizes that this is not explanation enough, she adds, “Cresselia, she needs to come!”

And that, she then realizes, is still not enough explanation, and so, she finally admits to what she has done. “Azelf won’t--, he won’t wake,… Please, you must get Cresselia!”

Lapras eyes widen.

“He is caught in an endless nightmare?”

“I didn’t want to do it!” Darkrai tries to explain, but still, she did, because she is a monster, “Cresselia, please, I beg you, you must get her, please!”

“Calm down!” Lapras suddenly says, as if actually worried about Darkrai’s state of being. “Don’t worry, I will get her. Nothing bad will come to Azelf.”

“Nothing more,” Darkrai corrects, but Lapras shakes her head. “He will not be brought down by your nightmares. I will bring Cresselia, and he will wake, and everything will be alright. You are not guilty.”

Darkrai does not correct her, because they both must know that it is a lie, anyways.

“Stay close to him, Darkrai,” Lapras then says, “The nightmares are already as bad as they can be. Hold his hand.”

And without giving Darkrai a chance to tell her about what a bad idea that is, she has turned around, and in a speed Darkrai did not know she possessed, swum away.

Darkrai… Darkrai looks at her back as it becomes smaller and smaller, until it seems to fade into the ocean, and until, finally, Lapras is no longer to be seen. And then, she stares just at the ocean for a while, because she just… just doesn’t know what to do.

Hold Azelf’s hand? She would be happy if Azelf would not rip her arm out for that, once he woke up! And Darkrai would let him, because she deserves it. And the closer she gets to someone, the worse the nightmares get…

Not that it matters with endless nightmares. Those are always as bad as they can be.

Still… Azelf would not want her there. Definitely not.

But… but she needs to make sure that he is still alright, at least. Or as alright as he can currently be.

And so, she walks the way up to the cave again, each step as heavy as if it was her way to a funeral. Maybe it will be.

No. No, Cresselia will be here, and Cresselia make it right again, because she always has to do that. Every time, she has to atone for Darkrai’s sins, and Darkrai hates that she is so useless, that she is so wretched as to continue this circle.

She arrives at the cave, her shoulders hunched as they have not been in years, and then, she has to stare at Azelf. Azelf, who is still asleep, because it really is an endless nightmare. Azelf, who is suffering, because of Darkrai.

It is not even as if Azelf did anything for Darkrai, for her to suddenly put him through this! But still, she did, and she does not know why, except that she must be a monster to force this upon the only Pokémon she would call a friend.

She feels like crying again, but then she would just make this about her, and so, instead, she carefully sits down next to Azelf. She… won’t hold his hand. But she needs to ensure that he does not get sick or worse.

Not that she could do anything, if he did.

A treacherous little thought grows inside her, then – because surely, it is not her fault if she was never given the power to help someone? Surely, if she cannot stop herself from spreading nightmares no matter how hard she tries, she should not feel bad about it? Surely, it is not really her fault.

She would silence that thought, normally, silence it as violently as possible. But she cannot do so, right now, because she lacks the energy, and maybe then, she would have even worse thoughts. And so, she simply quiets it, and then stares at Azelf again.

He does not look good. Too pale, too much pain obvious in his face, and sometimes, he is shaking as if he has a cold. She hopes the water did not give him one. She cannot stop it, if it did.

This is all her fault, she reminds herself, to drown out the previous thoughts. If she just tried harder, she could stop it.

It is her own fault, for not doing so.

And Azelf has to pay for it, and Cresselia has to pay for it, and Lapras, too, has to pay for it. Only Darkrai does not have to pay for it, and once again, she comes to the realization that, truly, she is a monster.

She is not sure how much time has passed, but suddenly, Azelf lets out a shout which makes Darkrai jump. She stares at him, and he is just tossing, turning, trying to escape whatever bad dream Darkrai created, and she just…

This is her fault.

‘Hold his hand’, Lapras had told her. As if that… was going to help.

But when Azelf whimpers, she just cannot help herself. She knows that it will not help Azelf feel better, but even if she hates touch, right now, it makes her feel better. Because it feels as if she is doing something, anything at all.

And Azelf immediately grabs her hand tighter, and so, she leaves it there for him to grab.

Maybe, if he-, no, when he has woken up, he will hate her for it some more, but…

But she cannot always care for others, can she?

 

She finds herself in a strange kind of feeling, because time seems to pass incredibly fast and also not at all. She only watches Azelf, who whimpers and sometimes shouts, and one time starts to cry. She hates herself so much.

And then, when a minute has passed, but also a day, she hears noises from the direction of the small forest, noises which are not just leaves rustling or branches creaking. No, it is, unmistakably, the noise of someone hurrying through the trees.

Her eyes snap up, just as Cresselia appears in the entrance of the cave, and even her angry “Darkrai!” cannot stop the relief she feels.

Not even when Cresselia’s face falls, as if she held unto the hope that Darkrai was, perhaps, just pulling a very bad prank on her with Lapras’ help, hope that was just destroyed when she saw the reality of the situation. “What did you DO?!”

“I’m sorry,” she hurries to say, because sometimes it makes her sister just a little less furious, “I didn’t want to do it.” Her voice sounds so very empty as she says these words, even if she means them.

“Well you still fucking did it! Move away from him, now!” she shouts, but after that, she ignores her, and instead moves to Azelf’s side. Darkrai does as she is told, because the further away she is when Cresselia heals those Darkrai hurt, the better. Azelf does not seem to want to let go of her hand, at first – instinct, of course – and it takes one more angry gaze by Cresselia for Darkrai to just wrench her hand away, even if she might hurt Azelf or herself.

She does neither. Hopefully.

Then, she hurries to one of the walls of the cave, and she does not huddle against it, of course not. At first, she watches, as her sister looks at Azelf, tries to move this way and that, but then, a light seems to emanate from Cresselia, and it gets stronger and stronger, and Darkrai averts her eyes. It is unpleasant. It always is, for her. For everyone else, she has been told, it is like a beacon within a world of unrelenting darkness.

Soon, the light fades. While she is still busy blinking its residue away, she hears a soft exhale, but it is not Cresselia. And then, there is a noise of confusion, also not Cresselia.

Darkrai carefully looks into the direction of Azelf and her sister, and just catches the moment that Azelf’s eyes blink open. And he is not alright, Darkrai knows that, even if he is awake now. Because he was just caught in a nightmare for almost a day, but still… A weight falls off Darkrai’s heart, because at least he is still… here. Azelf is still here, and Darkrai just hurt him, but did not do worse.

“Huh…?” Azelf says, very smartly, and immediately Darkrai chastises herself for that cruel thought, “I’m… uh, Cresselia…?”

Darkrai knows that Azelf abandoned one sentence for a simple question, but she almost snorts, because, well. That was funny. Or would have been, she realizes, the thought sobering her right up, if it was not literally Azelf waking up from the death sentence Darkrai put on him.

“I am here,” Cresselia answers, her voice so very calm that, if Darkrai did not know better, she would never guess that Cresselia had just shouted at her with so much rightful anger.

“But wait, why are you here?” Azelf carefully asks, and then starts to prod himself up.

“Take it easy,” Cresselia warns, but it comes just a little too late, as at that moment, one of Azelf’s arms slip, and he finds himself lying on his blankets once again. At least his landing could not have been too harsh.

Azelf groans, but does not let himself be deterred by that one measly failure, as he would put it, and just starts trying to sit up again.

“Azelf,” Cresselia says, this time with a firm note in her voice, “Stop this. You need some rest. Real rest.”

“Yeah, uh, I guess, but you can’t change my mind. My whole body hurts as if I’d been running a marathon.”

Darkrai grimaces. Probably a side effect of all the tossing and turning and grabbing blankets and pulling grimaces and shouting and whimpering and crying, and, well, just the nightmares in general.

“Anyways, why are you here? And, uh… There’s no need to be angry at Darkrai for having me over, she actually tried to make me leave really often. Where is she, by the way?” He looks around, and although Darkrai tries to merge with the wall – figuratively, she is not actually about to hide in there, at least not yet – he notices her almost immediately.

“Oh, you’re here! Any reason you’re over there?”

Darkrai is not sure if she should actually answer that. Judging by the angry glare Cresselia is giving her, probably not.

Best to just… burn that bridge, now. She hates how much regret that thought makes her feel, but she also knows that there is no other solution.

Not only will Cresselia not allow her to have Azelf visit ever again, but Darkrai herself does not want Azelf to come after this. Because she… really does not want to hurt him, ever again.

“Azelf,” Cresselia speaks up, when Darkrai refuses to answer, and her voice has taken on a dangerous note, “You were caught in an endless nightmare.”

“I… Was that what it was?” Azelf asks, and then, his mien turns pondering for a moment. “I mean, I guess it makes sense…”

“You were caught in it because you are here.”

“Here? You mean, on Newmoon Island? Yeah, I kinda figured.” His answer sounds almost snappish, trying to brush Cresselia off. Darkrai loves and hates him for it.

“Azelf,” Cresselia starts, her voice losing the hint of patience it had before. “You might have died, had I not arrived in time. It was sheer luck that I was on Fullmoon Island when Lapras came to fetch me—”

“Well, great! I’m one lucky Pokémon, then!” Azelf interrupts, and he is, most definitely, getting annoyed now. Darkrai would… She would love to speak up, to thank Azelf for his support, and to tell Cresselia off, just this once, but… but she knows that Azelf could not continue to come here, because the possibility that she could catch him in an endless nightmare was always not just a possibility, but a certainty. And now it happened, and Darkrai had to realize anew that she did not deserve this contact. She did not, but she got it, and now she ruined it.

And Azelf has to realize that, too.

Darkrai is just too much of a coward to tell him, and so, once again, Cresselia has to do it.

“Azelf!” Cresselia roars, “Don’t you realize that she was about to kill you?!”

Darkrai jerks as if hit. That is-, that—

She… she was not trying to.

But Cresselia is right.

In the end, she always is.

“Well, she is here, isn’t she?! So don’t talk about Darkrai as if she can’t hear what you say about her!” Darkrai is about to actually flee into the wall, because… why does Azelf keep defending her? After she almost killed him! He should have come to realize that she is dangerous, a blight on this world! Not… someone to be defended! But Azelf just continues in the same vein. “And I know that she never would try to do that, so it was just an accident!”

Cresselia is about to shout again, and Azelf does not want to realize that Darkrai is… is dangerous, so very dangerous, and so finally, she speaks up.

“As if,” she says, sure to make her voice as icy as it can be. “You think I could not control my nightmares if I wanted to?”

Darkrai ignores the approving nod Cresselia gives her at that admittance, even if it hurts, so very, very much. She just concentrates on Azelf, who is staring at her with obvious shock.

“You… No,” Azelf says, then, finally, “No, you’re lying.”

Darkrai huffs. “You were annoying me, obviously, my patience would snap at one point.” Cruelty has always come so very easily to her, when she needs to scare others away.

For a few more moments, Azelf stares at her with hurt and surprise and shock and anger, but then, inexplicably, his features soften into something else. “I get it,” he says, “You’re trying to chase me away. It’s alright, though, Darkrai.”

This time, Darkrai stares at him with wide eyes. Does she… have to improve her acting? Probably.

But then, she forces herself to scoff, hoping to play over her shock. “Unfortunately for you, you are wrong.”

“I’m not, and we all,” he says, making a sweeping motion with his arm over those assembled, “Know that. You want me to stop visiting you because you don’t want me to get caught in an endless nightmare again. Well, tough shit for you, cause I don’t care.”

“You—!” Darkrai gasps, not sure if she should be more offended about the statement or the swear word.

Azelf just ignores her try at an objection. “Besides, you really think I could take you seriously when you’re huddled in a corner, obviously trying to merge into the wall?”

Darkrai moves away from the wall as if it burned her and stands up straight… ish. As straight as she can manage, with the weight of her idiocy and cruelty still on her back.

“We do not care what the fuck you think,” Cresselia hisses, “You will not step foot on this fucking island again.”

Darkrai gasps at the words her sister uses – she knows that Cresselia swears, much too often, but she still hates it so very much, she almost forgets about all the other things going on.

“Yeah, well, what are you gonna do to stop me?” Azelf asks back, trying to rise, but obviously still much too weakened for it.

“Maybe tell your siblings what you’ve been up to,” Cresselia threatens, and that… seems to actually be the solution.

Azelf looks at her with wide eyes for a moment, and then, he blows out some air and stares at the ground. “Whatever,” he mumbles, but it is clear that he has realized that he has lost that argument.

After that, they don’t talk, anymore. Darkrai just wants this entire thing to be over with, Azelf must still be weakened and tired, and Cresselia is probably also exhausted.

And so, silently, the day dies.

 

Azelf and Cresselia both spend the night on the island, so that Lapras can regain some of her strength. Darkrai leaves the two of them in the cave, and instead wanders down to the sand beach, where she lies down. Sand will get in her hair, of course, but who cares?

Not her.

Besides, the sand is much more comfortable than the dirt, and although she might deserve to be uncomfortable, she just wants to lie on her side and cry, and that’s easier to be done if she lies comfortably.

In the end, she does not cry, she only lies on the sand, waiting for the night to pass. She won’t fall asleep, of course – too much happened in too short an amount of time, and it is also night, and suddenly, the sun is rising.

She… she must have fallen asleep even though she did not want to, and slept so very deeply that she did not even dream. When… did this last happen? She cannot recall.

Azelf will soon depart, she realizes. Lapras wanted to wait until a little after sunrise, and now, the sun is about to peek over the horizon.

For a while, Darkrai thinks about not even making her way to the stone beach, because she won’t see Azelf off anyways, and she won’t see him ever again, so there is no need to see him one last time.

But in the end, she still hurries there, so she can at least assure herself that he still… alive.

 

She does not move out of the forest, and instead just watches as Cresselia guides Azelf there, shortly after the sun is no longer touching the horizon, just watches as Azelf looks around, very obviously searching for her. He won’t find her, though. Seeing him like this is bad enough, if he tried to talk to her, she is not sure if she could… well.

She ignores the anguish she can feel in her soul, in her chest, in her very bones, and just watches.

It is a quick affair after that – Azelf makes no attempt at refusing to get on Lapras’ shell. But he still stares, searching, at the island. Even after they finally depart, he seems to search for Darkrai, as if hoping to catch at least a single, last glance.

Darkrai does not grant it.

And then… And then it is just Cresselia and Darkrai left on the island. And Darkrai thinks of continuing to hide, because she can feel how angry Cresselia is, without even seeing her sister’s face, but… Cresselia will find her, anyways. And whatever stern talking-to, whatever shouting-at is going to come, she deserves it, anyways.

And so, once Lapras and Azelf have disappeared behind the horizon, she floats out of the treeline, not daring to look her sister in the eyes.

“I…” She starts, fully expecting to be interrupted almost immediately, but she is not, and so, she has to come up with what to say next, “I know what I… did wrong,” she then admits. “It… It won’t happen again.”

“Oh, won’t it?” Cresselia asks, the cynicism dripping from her voice so very audible. “Because I was of the understanding – or, I guess, actually illusion – that you actually promised not to meet with anyone before coming here. To not let it happen again.”

“I know,” Darkrai says, trying to… not defend, but explain, “I… He just came here, and I was… I didn’t want him to stay, but he insisted, and I was just so… so…”

“So what?” Cresselia almost shouts, and Darkrai shrinks on herself.

“So lonely,” she admits, because Cresselia deserves to know.

“Oh, how unfortunate for you,” Cresselia hisses, and then, she starts shouting, “I bet Mesprit and Uxie would not be lonely without Azelf, though, would they?!”

Darkrai shrinks even more in on herself. If she could, she would turn to the shadows, but that would just make Cresselia even angrier.

“I know,” she mumbles, not willing to let the anger clawing at her throat escape. “I know!” she repeats, much louder than she intended. “What do you want me to say?! I won’t let it happen again, but it happened, and I can’t change that!”

“I want you to realize the danger you pose to others!” Cresselia shouts back, “To realize that, as long as you are unwilling to control your ability, you can’t spend time around them!”

Darkrai has heard that very accusation so very, very often, but this time, something within her just seems to… break.

“I can’t!” she screams, and she never screams, but this time, she does, “I can’t control it!”

“Then don’t spend time around others!” Cresselia screams back, “How many will have to die for you until you realize that you are dangerous?!”

Darkrai jerks back as if hit by the reminder, because… because…

Azelf is alright. But he might not have been.

And she knows it.

She still feels like screaming, and like accusing her sister of all of her wrongdoings; but even more, she feels like crying and sobbing and just… just…

Ceasing to exist.

“I’m sorry,” she just murmurs, and then, she allows her legs to give out, and she falls into a sitting position.

Soon after, Cresselia follows.

It is funny, is it not? They had a similar situation not too long ago, but then, the world was still so very different.

“Darkrai,” Cresselia speaks up, her voice measured again, “I know… I know that this is hard for you. And I know that you might believe that I don’t understand why you allowed Azelf to come here, but I do understand it. It’s… It’s in the past now.”

Darkrai stares at the stones around her. Instead of answering, she picks one up and throws it further away. And then she picks another up, and does the same to it, and to another one as well. And so on.

“You know that what you did was incredibly dangerous, don’t you? And if I had not been here—”

“I know,” Darkrai interrupts, stopping her throwing of stones. They did not deserve that rough treatment, anyways. Instead, she pulls her legs up to her upper body and crosses her arms over them.

“Good,” Cresselia answers, but it sounds like she is, for once, being careful not to insult Darkrai anymore, “That is good. And if Azelf ever decides to come here again—”

“I will send him away,” she answers, because what would it change, if she told Cresselia that Azelf refused to be sent away? Darkrai will have to find a way to do the impossible.

“Exactly. And if he refuses you, you will get me to help you.”

“Yes,” Darkrai says, and for a moment, she almost hates Cresselia. Because she can make her own decisions, and she can act on her own, and still, Cresselia acts as if she knows what loneliness Darkrai must feel. And then Darkrai tries to force this feeling down, but it refuses to do so, for the first time in months.

And she stares at Cresselia, and just imagines attacking her, right now, showing her that Cresselia’s wishes do not matter, because she is so much weaker than Darkrai, and she just repeats, “Yes, of course.” Imagining what it might feel like to knock Cresselia out, to let her feel like she is the worse sibling, for once.

And then, then she finally manages to wrangle that hate down, and is horrified at what she just thought.

“I guess I will have to check in more often with you, now,” her sister says, sounding very disappointed with that. Darkrai would be, too, if she had any other people to spend time with, but she does not, and so, she is almost somewhat happy. “Make sure you don’t pull stupid shit like that again.”

“Cresselia!” Darkrai cries, the offending word, well, offending her. It is just a try a normalcy, and both of them know it, but for now, both of them are also willing to act it out as much as they can.

 

Cresselia does actually visit more often, at least for the next few months. She comes every two to three weeks, and sometimes, she stays not just one day, but actually two or three. She brings new scrolls to read, and when Darkrai finally asks for it, she brings an assortment of needles and fabric and thread, and patiently explains to her how to use them. Another time, she brings some berries, for Darkrai to plant, so that she might have berries at all times of the year. She brings some games and even some yarn, for Darkrai to try even more things to spend her time doing. Even if Darkrai cannot get herself to forget about Azelf, and almost hopes to see him at least once more, these months are… pleasant.

Nice, almost.

She still feels lonely – maybe even moreso than when Azelf still visited her, and Cresselia barely made a showing – but it’s nice. Almost.

But then, the time between Cresselia’s visits grows longer, once again, and soon enough, the empty days start to overtake Darkrai’s life anew, and even if she does not want to, she starts to resent Cresselia with every day she spends somewhere else.

She starts resenting Dialga, too, because she has truly come to hate time, by now, and that now includes Dialga.

And she might also start to resent Arceus, because even if Darkrai is a monster, Arceus created her like that.

But then, Cresselia visits again, and Darkrai always feels so very bad for these twisted thoughts. And then Cresselia leaves, and the thoughts return. Over time, they just become louder and louder.

And more time passes.

 

“Darkrai?” a voice calls out, a voice which does not belong to Cresselia. Darkrai knows that voice, and her first instinct is to run to it, to greet its owner, to cry tears of joy that he did not abandon her. But then she forcefully reminds herself that she is a monster, and that the happiness she feels right now is just the prelude to her trying to kill Azelf, as it was last time.

And so, she hides. She hides in the shadows, she hides behind trees, she hides between the cliffs. And three days in, or maybe four, Azelf finally gives up and leaves again.

 

A month later, she hears him calling for her, again. And once again, she hides.

 

And two months later, she hides.

 

And she hides.

 

And hides.

 

And hides.

 

After two years, she thinks, Azelf finally gives up, and then, Darkrai is truly alone again. Cresselia still visits, but so very seldom by now that Darkrai is not sure if she would not like it more if she just stayed away forever.

After two years, Darkrai is lonely again. So very, very lonely.

 

 

And with a gasp escaping his throat, Darkrai wakes up, in a bed that is not his, and in a world of darkness of his creation.

Notes:

[Darkrai: lmao watch me ghost this dude, but like, in real life]

So, yeah, this was the heaviest chapter yet, I believe. Did I plan it to be so sad? … Not entirely, no. I still hope you enjoyed it, as much as you can.

Next chapter will be more along the normal again. And yes, Darkrai is totally the younger sibling.

Also, just fyi, the story Darkrai reads is an actual story (just exchange 'Pyroar' to 'lions' and you've basically got the actual version of the text) – an ancient Egyptian one, to be exact, generally called ‘The Shipwrecked Sailor’ (at least in English). I translated it for the last half year, and so when I saw my chance to make a mention of it in my story, I pounced on it. There are some very nice translations on the web for it, if you are interested in reading it! I can truly recommend it, and if you like talking snakes, it’s the story for you.

Two last things, also: The next update, I will try to have ready at the start of April, although since my newest Uni semester has started, I will only have time to update the story on weekends. So expect the updates for the next few months to be around the beginning of a month, on either Saturday or Sunday!

And last, but absolutely not least, there’s more fanart! I did not put that at the beginning, this time, since I needed that space for the TWs, but now they are here!
One was made by the amazing CandlitNights, who already drew so much and yes I am totally happy crying. You can find it here: https://www.deviantart.com/missowlit/art/Feral-907383080
Two more were drawn by Oliver, who also already drew one fanart! You can check them out here: https://i.redd.it/p735szz5ajj81.png
and here: https://i.redd.it/ojixkd52jwj81.png
If you can, please, please check all of them out! I am still just so amazed that people draw art for me, and all of it is so very amazing, and it deserves to be seen!

Finally, have as good of a month as you can!

Chapter 19: Bag to the Future

Summary:

Last Chapter: The last chapter was a flashback to some of Darkrai's far past. At that time, he (going by female pronouns, at that time) was in isolation on Newmoon Island, so that his Bad Dream Ability would not hurt anyone. Due to that, he dealt with intense loneliness, depression, and other bad stuff.
In the chapter, we saw him go through his daily business, saw his strained relationship with Cresselia - who was his sole caretake, but becoming progressively worse at it - as well as Azelf, who would visit him occasionally. In the end, Darkrai accidentally caught Azelf in an endless nightmare, which Cresselia could luckily stop. However, after that, Darkrai refused all contact with Azelf; and only grew more lonely and jaded.

And then, he woke up from the recollections which had become his nightmare.

Notes:

Anyone wanna see new fanart? Because I've got new fanart!

There is a new amazing drawing by CandlitNights, which is just so sad but beautiful, and also has to do with the last chapter! You can find it here: https://www.deviantart.com/missowlit/art/Treasures-909099773

There are multiple pieces by someone going by "anon" on this platform, and by tang/calci on tumblr, you can find them here: https://tangsartblog.tumblr.com/post/679441850678099968/a-veil-of-lies-chapter-1-neferirkarekakai
and here: https://tangsartblog.tumblr.com/post/679534425119260672/more-a-veil-of-lies-stuff

And last (but not least) a commenter going by "EldritchSoftie" on here and "eldritchpink/DeədLıghtz" on Instagram, which you can see here: https://www.instagram.com/p/CccWTd_LuUi/?igshid=MDJmNzVkMjY=

There is an oil lamp on Darkrai’s bedside table, a tiny flame flickering within it. Which is quite fascinating, because Darkrai has neither an oil lamp, nor a bedside table. But lo and behold, there both are, to the right of his bed. Which he also does not possess, now that he thinks about it.

The only possible conclusion to draw is, of course, that this is not Darkrai’s bed, nor his bedside table, or even his room. But then, how did he end up here? Where even is here?

He can feel his eyebrow scrunching up, because he feels that there is a memory, just a little too far away to truly grasp. He cannot even remember what he dreamt before he woke, which truly tells him that something is awry. There are only few days where he does not recall his dreams.

Well. Both memories will come to him, he is sure; and admittedly, he is still feeling somewhat groggy. Instead of needlessly worrying about it – and from experience, Darkrai knows that the moment he remembers, the nonchalance he feels right now will fall away and be replaced by… not panic, of course not, never panic – but, well, by a rather intense anxiety about the situation, probably. And so, instead, he sits up and looks around the room he found himself in.

It is not very big, he decides, but also not tiny. Small is probably the most precise way to describe it. There is the bed he is on, of course, as well as the bedside table. Pushed against the wall right next to it is a small cabinet, and Darkrai is sure that at least one of its doors won’t be able to open fully, due to the close proximity of the table’s legs. In the direction of the foot of the bed, a desk stands, and next to it, a single chair. Also in that direction is a single wooden door, although it is closed. Locked? Darkrai will have to find out.

A second glance around tells him that he actually managed to miss a window, situated right behind him. There is no curtain in front of it, although once Darkrai turns fully around to stare out of it, he realizes that it would be unnecessary, anyways. Beside a cliff side approximately fifty metres away, as well as the ground, probably around seven or eight metres down, there is nothing else to be seen.

Well, besides some rocks, falling—

On instinct, Darkrai jerks away from the window the moment he sees them and shields his head with his arms. But—

There is no crash, no sound indicating that they hit the ground. No shaking of the earth. Just… nothing.

Cautiously, he lets his arms fall down and looks out of the window once again. There, the falling rocks are still in exactly the same position. They are not falling at all, he realizes. Just suspended in the air. As if—

As if time had stopped just when they fell.

And that realization is what makes Darkrai remember what he could not recall until now. The horrible, horrible nightmare he had, which was just memories he thought he had forced himself to forget, years ago. The meeting at the town square, Grovyle’s apprehension, Dusknoir’s supposed goodbye, and then…

That-, that utter bastard!

In less than half a moment, Darkrai has jumped to stand, to get away from wherever this is, and to confront Dusknoir – or rather, attack him—

But before he can even realize that Dusknoir, most definitely, would be victorious if Darkrai tried to fight him, his legs get tangled within the blanket, and he just falls forward, flat on his face, unto the bed.

He guesses he could consider himself lucky, to not land on the ground instead, but really, he does not. Instead, he angrily sits up again and stares at the traitorous blanket. Well. It’s nice that he got one, at least.

With a sigh, he forces himself to let go of the anger – it continues to simmer beneath, of course, but he cannot allow it to be his main emotion right now. Instead, he simply untangles his feet. He does not hurry towards the door after that, but just sits down on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the cold ground.

Now that he actually takes the time to think things over, attacking Dusknoir would surely be a bad idea. He does not even know where the ghost is, nevermind Darkrai himself! A room in the future, most likely, how great to know that.  But besides that, he knows positively nothing.

Maybe he should—

But suddenly, he can hear steps, growing ever closer to the door, and involuntarily, he flinches. He can feel himself grow stiff, can feel how his shoulders hunch up, can feel how his hands clench; but can do nothing to stop himself from remaining in that position, even when the door opens. This is fear, he faintly realizes, and he feels it much stronger because of the blasted memories he is trying to ignore right now.

But it does not help to know what it is called, when he can do naught but stare at the opening door. In the doorframe, a Sableye stands. Their gazes meet, and the next moment, the door is thrown closed again. Darkrai flinches and involuntarily, his hands reach up to cover his head.

That, however, does not stop him from hearing the loud cries of, “Lord Dusknoir! Lord Dusknoir, he’s awake!”, even as they grow further away.

For a few seconds, he remains in that horribly weak position, and then, his mind finally catches up with his body. Forcefully, he takes a deep breath, letting himself unwind at the same moment. As much as he can, at least.

Lord Dusknoir, the Sableye said. So Dusknoir… must definitely be here. So, if he is, and if this Sableye is about to bring him here…

Darn it. Darn it!

Darkrai does not know what might happen next, so maybe… Should he just make his escape before he has to find out? That sounds like a good idea, to be honest. So that just leaves the question whether he should escape through the window or the door.

Not the window, he decides, the drop is too high. He would make it down alive, most likely, but moving around with two broken legs or a broken back is quite hard, experience tells him. So the door—

But outside, he can once again hear footsteps, which means that, most likely, at least one Sableye is about to arrive. But Dusknoir could be accompanying it – floating can simply not be heard, unfortunately.

Blast it. Maybe the wall, then? But no, he does not know how thick it is, or if it actually ever ends. For all he knows, this room could have been dug straight into a rock.

His only chance is the door, he realizes. The moment it is opened, he will have to make a dash for it. Which is not his preferred course of action, but the only—

The door opens, and just as he hastily planned, but timed very badly, Darkrai jumps up, tries to rush towards the door, and with his second step, his legs give out beneath him, and not even his ability to float saves him from smacking on the ground, his hands just barely breaking the fall.

For a few moments, he remains there, face down on the floor, the tiniest bit disoriented. Then, much more measured than before, he pushes himself up, until he is practically kneeling on the ground.

That is also the moment he hears Dusknoir’s voice, from the direction of the open door. “You-, are you alright?” With each word, his voice grows closer, and Darkrai turns his head to stare in the direction. He sounds… worried. So maybe, he won’t try to attack him?

He just cannot tell whatever course of action Dusknoir has decided on! Not since he pulled him through the Dimensional Hole. Not since Darkrai woke up from dreams of horrible memories. Not since he is still trying to ignore what they put to the front of his mind.

But when Darkrai finally looks up at the ghost, his face makes it clear that he must not want to attack Darkrai. No, instead he looks worried. Just… worried.

And fortunately, it does not feel like Darkrai actually hurt himself very much with his fall, although his wrists still throb a little, from trying to catch himself.

Will he tell Dusknoir that? Obviously not.

“Where am I?” he asks instead, counting on Dusknoir not just acting worried. Then, he makes to stand up, only for Dusknoir to hurriedly grab him by the shoulders – and Darkrai wants to scream, but he does not, because what is Dusknoir doing?! – and the next moment, feels himself be lifted unto the bed again.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Dusknoir asks, completely ignoring Darkrai’s question, while simultaneously not allowing to let Darkrai ignore his question. How… hypocritical! And treating him like… a child! An invalid! Who does he think he is?! Darkrai wants to scratch the ghost’s eye out, wants to pull him into an endless nightmare, wants this whole situation to just… not be real!

But he cannot do any of these things, and so, instead he huffs. Then, finally, he answers, allowing himself to sound as flippant as he wants to be, “No, obviously not. Now, where am I?”

“Ah, I’m glad,” Dusknoir says, and then, looks towards the still open door, where the Sableye stands – most definitely having seen this entire, shameful scene. Darn it. Darn it!

If Darkrai was not still feeling so very out of it, if he was not still remembering a much younger, idiotic self, if he was not constantly busy trying to tell himself that there is no danger right now, then he would know how to react.

But he does not, and so, he just stares.

Dusknoir, meanwhile, addresses the Sableye. “Something to drink, yes? And to eat, but nothing too heavy.”

“Of course, Lord Dusknoir! I’ll bring something great!” And the small Pokémon turns around, running away as quickly as its legs allow it to. Darkrai can hear its footsteps, and then, they suddenly stop, only to come closer again, hurriedly. Soon enough, the Sableye is in front of the door again, and with a sheepish grin, carefully closes it. Once again, Darkrai hears its footsteps outside, but this time, they truly fade away after some time.

And after that… it is just Dusknoir and Darkrai. Which is… suboptimal, because Darkrai really, really wants to attack Dusknoir right now. He might have thought that his hate for the other might have… well, not ceased, but at least gone down to a more acceptable level. But the opposite has happened, and it only took Dusknoir throwing him into a Dimensional Hole, and some bad memories.

“Considering your question – we just call it a stockade. Technically speaking, there is also some living space, where we currently are, but—”

“Alright,” Darkrai interrupts, “Let me rephrase my question. I have already realized that I am in the future, now my question is…” And he trails of, for a moment, and then continues, putting as much emphasis on the following words as he can, “Why am I here?”

“Ah,” Dusknoir starts, and then, he does not say anything for a moment. Instead of answering, he floats over to the table and chair, and pulls the chair over so that he can place it right across from Darkrai. Then, he sits down. “That is… I apologize.” He sounds sorry, for all that this is worth. Which is the low, low price of nothing. “I intended to warn you, but there simply was no chance for it—”

“Warn me? About what, throwing me into the future? How about asking me first?!”

By the end of the sentence, Darkrai cannot help himself, he is screeching; and also about to jump from the bed, right at Dusknoirs throat (wherever that may be). It is not his fault, though! If the ghost had not done what he had, he would not need to, anyways!

And now, Dusknoir manages to look surprised, as well as ashamed, still. “Considering our conversations, I thought you might like to come here—”

“With a warning!” Darkrai shouts, not even trying to get his emotions under control anymore. It would not work, anyways, not with the shi-, cursed nightmare he just had!

Dusknoir looks even more apologetic. “I know that it does not change anything, but I apologize.”

“As you should,” Darkrai hisses and then makes a show of staring out of the window, instead of at Dusknoir. Or maybe it is easier to force his anger down, once again, if he does not have to look at him right now.

“I had wanted to warn – or ask – you,” Dusknoir tries to explain himself, desperation in his voice, “About all of this, but there was no time where I could have talked to you, alone.”

“Oh yes, because you could not just have—” Darkrai breaks off, because in a sudden bout of clarity, he realizes that it does not matter, really. He is still angry, and Dusknoir should still be ashamed but… He just scoffs and then, ends his sentence entirely differently to what he initially wanted to say. “It does not matter anymore. The past is the past, and it is not as if you could change what happened.”

At least Dusknoir, once Darkrai finally deigns to look at him again, seems truly chastised. Or maybe Darkrai is interpreting his emotions completely wrong, it is not as if Dusknoir is very emotive. Maybe he just loves throwing others in Dimensional Holes and acting like he is oh-so-sorry afterwards.

And then, with a physical jerk, Darkrai suddenly remembers that he was not the only one thrown into the Dimensional Hole.

Pearl. Where is Pearl?!

Even though he knows what is in this room and what is not, he looks around one more time, because maybe, just maybe, he did not… notice her or something. But no, she is not here. Darn it! Where is she?

“What about—”

“Ah, about—"

They both speak up at the same time, and then stare awkwardly at each other for a moment. As if wanting to act like nothing happened, Dusknoir finally just asks, “What was your question?”

“Pearl,” Darkrai immediately says, which is obviously not a question. He elaborates, “What happened to her? I clearly remember that you also threw her into the Dimensional Hole.”

Dusknoir’s gaze narrows at that. “She is currently in a cell. And now that you have woken up, I will have her executed, soon.”

“… What.” Darkrai blinks once, slowly, trying to understand what Dusknoir just said. Because obviously, he must have misheard. Obviously, Dusknoir would not just want to execute Pearl for maybe-perhaps reminding him of the human Pearl… Obviously.

“You remember that I warned you that she might be someone dangerous?”

“She is a child!” Darkrai cries, realizing that, yes, Dusknoir is serious. But Pearl, executed? What is wrong with the ghost?!

Dusknoir just scoffs. “There is also a high chance that she is Grovyle’s accomplice.”

“That may be so, but—”

“Oh, come now, Darcy,” Dusknoir starts, and the use of Darkrai’s fake-name really, really rubs him wrong, but he does not dare mention so, right now, “You know that there is more to her than she ever let on.” He crosses his arms.

“If by that you mean that she has potential, then yes.” He also crosses his arms, realizes he is mirroring Dusknoir, and uncrosses them again.

Dusknoir’s gaze grows … cloudy. Not quite angry, not quite cold, but most definitely on the verge of becoming so. “Why did you initiate a friendship with her? I know you by now, and she is not someone you would actually search out of your own volition.”

“What is this inquisition?” Darkrai hisses back, not intent on earnestly answering Dusknoir’s question, and not seeing a good answer to give, yet. “Besides,” he objects, “You are not the expert on knowing what I would or would not do, or what I would want, while we are at it.”

Is it a low blow, to bring it up again already? Perhaps. But if it makes Dusknoir back off, then Darkrai will most definitely use it.

Dusknoir, however, tries to object. “But I—”

Footsteps resound outside, interrupting whatever he was about to counter, and then, without even a knock, the door is opened. Why even have a door, if everyone is just going to barge in, however they like?

Before the door, two Sableye stand – one holding a tray, with two cups and a bowl placed on it, the other simply on ‘opening-doors’-duty, apparently.

“Master Dusknoir,” Door-Duty says, “We brought you and your guest something to drink! And some of the good stew for Duskull!” The grin on its face grows, even as it ignores the mumbling of “There was no we,” from the other Sableye.

“Wonderful,” Dusknoir responds, not even a hint of his previously agitated tone to be heard. “On the bedside table will be best to place it.”

“Of course, Master Dusknoir!” Door-Duty says, and Tray-Duty adds, “No problem, Lord Dusknoir!”

Darkrai quietly watches as Tray-Duty walks through the room, its gaze never leaving the tray until it is securely placed on the table. Then, it hurries towards the door again, and once both it and Door-Duty are positioned so that they can close the door easily again, it says, “Enjoy your talk, Lord Dusknoir!”, while Door-Duty adds, “Tell him all about your—”

It gets interrupted by the other Sableye throwing a hand over its mouth and letting out a nervous chuckle. “Ignore her, Lord Dusknoir!”

And then, the door is thrown shut, the loud sound reverberating through the hall which must lie outside, but not loud enough to drown out the “Oops” one of the Sableye mutters.

For a few moments, neither Darkrai nor Dusknoir say anything, and then, Dusknoir makes a sweeping motion with his hand, pointing toward the tray and the things on it. “Please, eat, drink. You were knocked out for quite some time, I believe you will need it.”

Seems like he is intent on just ignoring whatever the Sableye insinuated. And also like he is creating an obvious diversion.

Darkrai decides to let both things slip, even if the second is somewhat insulting – what, does Dusknoir believe that Darkrai thinks through his stomach? Pah, as if! He can go days without food! Weeks, even! Still… he throws the offered things a sceptical glance. Just as the Sableye mentioned, in the bowl seems to be some stew, still steaming. The only thing Darkrai can make out with certainty within it are mushrooms. It does smell quite good, though. The drink seems to be simple water, and although Darkrai knows that it is a bad idea, for a moment, he wonders where and how the Pokémon of the future even get access to running water. Before that thought can go too far, though, he decides to just ignore it.

Just as he is about to ignore the water, but then Dusknoir takes one of the cups – the one closer to Darkrai, actually – and takes a big gulp from it. Which looks really, really weird, because Dusknoir-anatomy is just really, really weird. But it does assure Darkrai that, most likely, nothing has been done to the liquid, and also, he is awfully thirsty…

If he gets poisoned, he will survive. He has a high tolerance for most toxins. Besides, if Dusknoir had wanted to kill him, he could have done so before Darkrai woke up—

The realization settles deep into his bones, because he had not thought about it, previously. About how defenceless he was, just… asleep. Dreaming. Remembering. There was nothing he could have done, nothing to stop an attack, or… worse.

There is an old, familiar helplessness which settles between Darkrai’s bones, a cold feeling, and he barely keeps from hugging himself against a sudden shudder running over his back. Darn it.

Darn it! Curse this entire situation, all of it!

Once again, he wants to attack Dusknoir. Instead, he shakes his head, because he does not need these thoughts, any of them. He simply takes the remaining cup in his hands and drinks from it. Before he has even drunk half of its contents, he can feel a headache he did not even notice disappear, and as the invisible weight lifts, his thoughts grow much clearer.

And also more worried, but before he truly allows himself to panic, he takes up the bowl and the spoon lying next to it and takes a careful bite, careful to watch Dusknoir over the bowl’s rim. The ghost does nothing more interesting than watch Darkrai, and so, he takes another bite. And another one. And maybe one more—

In his hands is an empty bowl, but Darkrai can honestly not bring himself to care because, well, he was quite hungry. Carefully, he places it on the tray again.

“How long was I… asleep?” he finally asks, because the way Dusknoir said that he was ‘knocked out for quite some time’ makes Darkrai fear for the worst.

“Not quite two days,” Dusknoir admits, grimacing. Darkrai is actually surprised how easy it generally is to read him, even with his somewhat restricted facial expressions. Stomach-ial expressions? “I will admit, I was starting to get a little worried.”

Darkrai huffs. “Worried about what? The consequences of your thoughtless actions coming to haunt you?”

Dusknoir lets out a little laugh at that, probably deciding that Darkrai is joking, for both their peace of mind. Then, from one moment to the next, he turns serious. “In any way, to get back to our previous topic—”

“Yes, let us do that,” Darkrai interrupts, staring at Dusknoir intently, hoping to make him at least a little uncomfortable, “Because while I may understand why you want Grovyle out of the way fully, Pearl has done nothing which could indicate that she is whoever you want to think she is.”

Dusknoir harrumphs. “In fact, there is a lot of evidence. More which is in favour of it, and less which is not. But…” He trails off. “Do you feel up to moving around a little? I would like to make you familiar with the stockade’s layout, and we can talk while we move.”

“You do not fear being overheard?”

Dusknoir shakes his head. “Not here. If we are overheard, it will be by one of my subordinates, and they are already up to date. But if you do not feel well enough, we can stay here.”

“Do not worry,” Darkrai clarifies, “I am sure I am well enough for that. Before, I simply… Was not yet very awake.” And to prove his point – because he is not weak, or helpless, or whatever else Dusknoir might believe, he carefully stands up.

He immediately notices that, well, maybe staying seated a little longer would have been the wiser decision, but that is what legs are for. He does not need them to stand or walk, but if he uses them, he can do either much more securely. And since Dusknoir cannot see them, there should be no issues.

“If you ever feel overwhelmed—”

“I will not,” Darkrai interrupts, sending him a scathing glare.

Dusknoir lets out a short laugh, which sounds absolutely patronizing. “Excuse my worries! They must still be residue from your unconsciousness the last few days.”

Darkrai scoffs, but decides not to engage with Dusknoir basically telling him how very weak he is. Or something. He is actually not entirely sure if Dusknoir was trying to insult him. He is not sure about any of this, to be honest. He hates it, but can only go along with it for the moment.

“If you would follow me?” Dusknoir requests, or maybe asks, and moves towards the door. Instead of opening it, though, he floats straight through it.

… Alright, so obviously, one can do that, but it’s still… impolite. It is just not done this way!

… Or maybe it actually is normal with ghosts?

Dareios certainly preferred to float through walls, but Darkrai had always assumed that was either because he enjoyed making Darkrai jump in surprise, or just a Dareios-thing, in general. Was it actually… normal Ghost Type behaviour, when everyone you are currently spending time with can do so?

Or is this a test by Dusknoir? Darn it! Stupid ghost, playing his stupid mind games!

Before too much time passes with him trying to find an answer, Darkrai simply follows Dusknoir through the door, just accepting that he will get hungry sooner than normal. Cursed be Dusknoir. First, he feeds him, but then he makes sure to starve him as quickly as possible, huh?

Behind the door, said ghost seems to have turned around, to look or wait for Darkrai. Once Darkrai finally emerges from the room, he gives a little nod, and then points to the right of the room they just left behind. Darkrai can see another door there, and a little further down, the corridor makes a 90° turn to the left. Where it leads to after that, Darkrai can obviously not see.

“The door you see leads to another guest room, like yours. The corridor here leads to a side-entry of the execution place,” Dusknoir explains, and then, without even acknowledging that this place, apparently, has a place dedicated to executions, just turns to the left instead and starts floating in not-quite-a-brisk-pace.

For a few moments, Darkrai just stares at the direction Dusknoir indicated an execution place to be, because… Well, of course there would be one, the ghost said that this place is called a stockade. But… an execution place! Who just mentions that, and then moves on as if it is the most normal thing in the world?

Dusknoir, apparently. Darkrai turns his head and stares at his back, but then, with an inaudible sigh, just continues to follow him. He cannot change this situation, he reminds himself. Just go along with it.

In this direction of the corridor, two more doors are situated, both on the same side as Darkrai’s. A little further away, the corridor splits into two, perfectly angular, turns.

“This door,” Dusknoir indicates, as they pass the first door, “Leads to my room. If you ever need to speak to me, or search me out for any reason, you are welcome to visit me here. However, please knock and wait for my answer before coming in.”

Darkrai does not answer with an ‘I am glad to know that, apparently, it is just my room everyone can just barge in,’ but it is a very close thing. Instead, he hums noncommittally, to be interpreted however Dusknoir wants it to be.

“This one,” Dusknoir speaks up once they have made their way to the next door, “Leads to my workroom. If you cannot find me in my private room, you may find me here, but once again, please knock if you need me.”

Darkrai hums, once again, and then, because Dusknoir basically promised to continue their conversation once they left the room, but is now very clearly trying not to do so, he asks, “So what…” he makes a pause, to truly drive in his disbelief, “Proof would you have of Pearl being… well, who do you even think she is? An accomplice of Grovyle?”

Dusknoir’s small groan, which is aborted the moment the ghost seems to notice he is doing it, answers Darkrai’s suspicion that he would have just ignored the topic for the moment. Moreover, he stops moving, and Darkrai stops as well.

“Grovyle… When he came to the past, he did so alongside someone else. Someone going by the name of Pearl.”

“Oh? And a name can now be only possessed by a single Pokémon?”

“No, of course not!” Dusknoir seems actually annoyed. “And for what it is worth, she was not a Piplup. In fact, she was a human.”

“A… human?” Darkrai acts as if surprised, because humans are only seldomly seen in these parts of the world. In fact, many Pokémon believe them to be just tales of older times. Well, Darkrai has lived through those older times, and has seen his fair share of them. But that is not something Dusknoir needs to know.

“Yes.” Dusknoir nods. It looks strange. “In fact, she might even have been more of a driving force behind the plan of changing the future. What is most indicative, however, is her ability.”

“The Dimensional Scream?”

“Exactly.” Dusknoir stares off in the direction of the door to his workroom. Darkrai just stares at him, expecting the answer to be… elaborated upon.

“I was actually thinking of perhaps not yet addressing a certain issue,” Dusknoir suddenly says, and Darkrai really, really dislikes the tone he now uses, “But I believe that you deserve certain answers – just as I deserve certain answers.” His voice has grown considerably colder, and Darkrai stares around, trying to figure out the best way to get away from him, if it becomes necessary.

But he would probably need to free Pearl from wherever she is kept right now, and…

He takes a deep breath before he can start panicking and decides that, well, his words might be his strongest weapon right now. Actually, not might be. They are his best way of defending himself at the moment. “Answers pertaining to what, exactly?”

“If you would wait here a moment?” Dusknoir asks, although it is clear to both of them that it is much less a question than a statement, or even more likely, an order. Darkrai narrows his eye, insulted by the mere insinuation.

“But only because you asked so politely,” he hisses, not quite able to keep his annoyance hidden. It does not matter, as Dusknoir either does not pick up on it – unlikely – or just decides to ignore it – most likely, unfortunately.

“Just a moment, then.” And with these words, he turns fully towards his workroom door, and once again, floats through it instead of bothering with opening it. This might… just be a Ghost Type thing, then.

And Darkrai remains on the corridor, all alone. For a few moments, he plays with the thought of, well, turning tail. Dusknoir indicated the way to the execution place, and perhaps, it might be safe to assume that the prisoner’s cells – which they must have, if this truly is a stockade (and Darkrai does not doubt it) – might be close to it. He should be able to find Pearl.

There is only the issue of getting her out of her cell, of course. Who holds the keys to it? Assuming it even is a traditional cell and nothing else entirely.

No. No, this plan is too dangerous.

But Dusknoir just now… Wanting certain answers? That sounds like he might be unto something he really should not be unto, and what if Darkrai gives him the wrong answers?

Darn it! Just what is this… cursed situation he found himself in?!

Maybe he should just abandon Pearl! Alone, he can get away easily. And with how compromised time is here, he should even be able to open a Dimensional Hole, at least if he was in his original form.

But Pearl was alive in his original timeline, and if he changes that, then—

And the next moment, it is too late, anyways, because Dusknoir floats through the door once again. Darkrai is already rather apprehensive, but then, he notices the ghost holding something. It has a strange shape – probably from being held as it is, but he can clearly make out a strap of either a red or green colour, and a… brown… fabric…

Cold washes over him as he realizes just what, exactly, this is.

As Dusknoir turns towards him again, the thing in his hand becomes even more distinguishable, and even if Darkrai had wanted to doubt what it was, the explorer’s badge pinned to its side makes all of his denials disappear before they even had the chance to come into existence.

“Ah, you recognize it,” Dusknoir states, but his voice almost washes over Darkrai. It sounds like he is deep under water, trying to listen to words through it.

This… When? How? Please, at least let him not have found it—

“I found it while you were still asleep, after the attack of that strange Pokémon. I searched the bushes next to the beach for clues of the Pokémon’s identity, which I did not find, unfortunately… But I do believe your bag was also a most interesting find.”

Darkrai’s thoughts feel like a scorching day, awfully slow, each moment passing as if an eternity; but they are also like a snowstorm, hailing on him so rapidly that he cannot even think of giving any of them special attention. He can just stare at the bag, and slowly force his eye to look at Dusknoir.

“At first, it seemed so clear, of course,” Dusknoir says, and at the back of his mind, the tiny part which is not panicking, Darkrai scoffs at what he already realizes is going to be a monologue, “The Pokémon broke into the guild, I chased it away, and on its way out, it attacked you and stole your bag – most probably in the hopes of finding something in there to mend its wounds with.”

Dusknoir lifts the bag up a little and stares at it. “But you know… That Pokémon was already carrying the bag when it came to the guild. Is that not curious? Because then, either it put you to sleep before even coming to the guild, which honestly, makes no sense, because it clearly had the ability to travel mostly unseen and would not have needed to attack you… Or because the story you told us was not quite the truth.”

Darn it. Darn it! He… What can he even say?! He thought he had managed to close this stupid chapter of his live, had lied well enough that no one might have noticed any slight discrepancies!

For a few moments, there is silence – maybe Dusknoir wants Darkrai to answer. Which is unfortunate for both of them, because Darkrai does not know what to say.

“To be clear,” Dusknoir starts, and there is a much warmer note in his voice, suddenly, “I truly believe in the best within you, Darcy. But before we can move forward, I need to know what you have been keeping secret.” And there, the ice has crept into his voice once again.

“I…” Darkrai starts, still no answer in mind. What… Alright. Alright. Timeline, the timeline he presented first needs to be changed, as well as his relationship with the ‘unknown Pokémon’. Maybe, yes, actually, starting with the Pokémon first would be the best chance to give himself just the tiniest bit more time, and perhaps he can find the words to get out of this situation, then. Did he not just think that words are his strongest weapon? Then he best make use of them, no?

“That Pokémon… It is a Legendary known as Darkrai,” he starts, trying to ignore how strange that sounds, coming from him. Perhaps he should have also made something up, but… he does not know which Legendary Pokémon Dusknoir knows about, and which he does not. Obviously, he did not know about Darkrai himself, but the rest… No, sticking close to the truth is best, for now.

For a few moments, he waits for Dusknoir to say anything, but the ghost does not, waiting for him to continue instead. Curse him.

“It is generally considered to be responsible for nightmares, although it is also deeply linked to darkness.” With his last words, he can see just the tiniest reaction from Dusknoir, making him remember that, ah yes, he did tell the ghost during his nightmare that he was responsible for the dark future, was he not? Maybe not his smartest move, but certainly something he can build upon now.

“In fact, in recent years, it has increasingly tried to bring ruin to the world, in whichever way it sees fit, and in whichever way might end in the most darkness being spread.” That, of course, is absolutely untrue – the last years, he has been concentrating on getting things set up for a proper revenge. A world of darkness… he can concentrate on that once Pearl has been eliminated. And while he is at it, Dusknoir as well.

Dusknoir, by now, cannot hide that gears in his mind have to be turning, and Darkrai just hopes that they do so in a way which will serve him instead of the ghost. He is proven right because into the moment’s pause he made, Dusknoir speaks.

“It is the one responsible for this future, is it not?”

For a few moments, Darkrai is not sure whether he should admit to knowing that or not, but… But suddenly, he has an idea. It might be the worst idea he has had in a very long time, but at the same time, it might also be his best.

He hates taking bets, but… Sometimes, they become necessary. And if it does not work out, well, he can find a way to flee, surely.

“Indeed, it is. Was, I guess.” He takes an audible breath, as if preparing himself for what he is about to say next. It is not much of a lie that he does so. “And for some time in my life… I worked alongside it.”

He can see as Dusknoir’s eye widens, as he starts putting things together which should never be put together, but can be so easily done with just that one little lie to help them along. Darkrai thinks of saying more, but thinks better of it, for the moment at least. Let Dusknoir draw his conclusions, first, and try to build on them – lies are always so much harder to see through if they are what you want to believe.

“That is the reason you knew of the dark future,” Dusknoir almost whispers, and that is exactly what Darkrai meant.

Thus, he merely nods and then gives an affirmative, “Yes, it is.”

And then – because he can see that he has Dusknoir on his hook, at last, and that is already more than he would have believed possible a few minutes ago – he continues. “I want to make clear that I… I am no longer on its side. Still, some of my past actions were still done with its… satisfaction in mind, and were the reason I had to keep certain secrets. And…” He starts a new sentence, breaks off as if truly hating what he is about to say next, “I wanted to keep its interest off of you. It is a very… dangerous legendary.”

Dusknoir’s eye narrows. “What did you do for it? And how long did you work for it?”

Darkrai huffs, the inquisition still just so… annoying to him. Stressful, even.

“Don’t act as if I was the only one working for someone else,” he says, a scoff following his words. Because that is how he would react in this situation, if he was truly helping someone, was truly trying to be on Dusknoir’s side now, but was also annoyed by his hypocrisy. “And well, technically, it might still believe I work for it…” he adds, hesitantly. Is he still working for himself? A strange question to even think about.

Dusknoir’s eye, impossible, has grown more narrow. “And do you?”

“Did I not tell you already? Obviously, I do not. It… demanded a lot. A lot of things even I am not willing to do, especially after…” he trails off, and once again takes an audible breath. Wait, do ghosts even have to take breaths? Because if not, then it will absolutely be clear that this was just for dramatic effect. Darn it. Foiled again by the strangeness of Ghost Types. “After you drew its interest,” he finally finishes.

That has an immediate effect, as Dusknoir’s eye, verging on seeming angry, with how narrow it had become, suddenly widens. “I drew its interest?”

Darkrai shrugs. “I do not know how you did so, although maybe it was impressed by your fighting prowess the night it came to the guild?” As if. Dusknoir’s fighting abilities are… alright. Nothing more.

“Ah… I might have an idea,” Dusknoir mutters, and of course he has, Darkrai visited him in his nightmare! Of course that would draw that ‘mysterious, evil Darkrai’s’ interest! “And what did it ask of you?”

Darkrai averts his eye, because that is just universal language of shame. “I… I need to make clear that I did not do any of the things it asked. In fact, after that night, it travelled to who-knows-where, and I have not seen it since. But…” He stares at the ground, as if even more ashamed. Then, he looks up, at Dusknoir. “It wanted me to watch you, and to find out any possible weaknesses you might have. And…” Oh, to the Distortion World with it, there is no reason to hold back! “And if a chance should present itself to me to… dispose of you, as it put it, I should do so.” He makes his voice just the tiniest bit angrier, by the end – as if trying to hide the emotion, but failing ever-so-slightly.

“And you…”

“In a way,” he says, ignoring whatever Dusknoir was trying to say, “I guess I am happy that you pulled me into the future, because… Well, I doubt that Darkrai died here, but at least it must believe that I am now long gone.”

Dusknoir takes a deep breath – and now that Darkrai thought about it, he realizes that, obviously, that is for dramatic effect. He is a ghost, of course there is no need for that. And then looks at Darkrai, trying for coldness but not quite succeeding.

“And your bag?”

“There is something within it which it had wanted – an old relic, before you ask, which it never told me the use for – and also… Well, it has never quite regarded my possessions as ‘not belonging to it’. I gave it to Darkrai,” Once again, he ignores how strange that sounds, and instead continues talking, “Before it went to the guild, and when it had to flee, I realized that, well, if it had my bag with it, that would obviously incriminate me.”

“But why did it abandon the bag?”

Darkrai shrugs. “I am not sure. Perhaps it took what it wanted, and realized that the extra weight would make fleeing harder.”

“And you being asleep?”

“That was me panicking, and telling it to put me to sleep when we crossed paths while it was fleeing. Which was obviously a bad idea, in hindsight, but… Just imagine if you had found me on the beach, in perfect health, after you had followed a clearly aggressive Pokémon. What would Wigglytuff and Chatot have thought of that? Probably nothing good, and Chatot, at least, has always been critical of me.”

For some moments, there is silence – not comfortable silence, rather, the opposite. Darkrai knows that Dusknoir must be thinking the story over, must search it for any slight inconsistencies – and even if Darkrai trusts himself to lie well, he also knows that, obviously there will be inconsistencies in his tale. He just made up one of the strangest stories he has ever made up! There was no preparation, he was just using things which happened in the past, trying to make them seem different than they truly are. And thus, if Dusknoir truly stares at them too closely, too long…

Darkrai can feel himself stiffen his back, prepared for any outcome. If Dusknoir attacks, then…

He will have to forsake Pearl, at least for the moment. His own survival is much more important, and alone, he will also have a better chance at fleeing.

And then, from one moment to the other, the silence… changes. No longer does it feel dangerous, and although Darkrai cannot say how it feels instead, it is… different. It is not amicable, definitely; and not quite friendly, but… the danger is gone from the air.

Dusknoir sighs out loud, then, and stretches out the hand holding the bag. “Here,” he adds, when Darkrai does not dare take it.

Finally, Darkrai carefully takes it and slings it over his shoulder. Its weight is, surprisingly, comfortable. Grounding, in a way.

Dusknoir sighs heavily and then turns in the direction they were walking previously, before all of this… talk. Darkrai, a little hesitant, turns to follow him.

Dusknoir would not… act as if the danger was over for Darkrai, only to betray him once he let his guard down… right? Oh, what is he thinking, of course he would. Dusknoir is an utter bastard, and had no trouble deceiving Pearl for weeks, only to suddenly turn around and decide that he wants her executed. Of course, there is still a difference in his behaviour towards Darkrai – for which the lacking cell is just one good indication. And he could also easily overpower Darkrai in this form, which both of them know. So, if he wanted to do so… What would stop him?

Dare Darkrai really assume that Dusknoir… has decided to trust him once again?

He does not know! He just… does not know!

And so, he quietly follows Dusknoir instead, who takes the left turn once the corridor splits.

There is nothing but wall to be seen here, but soon, the corridor makes another turn to the right. Finally, two doors appear, both still a few metres away and practically next to each other. In front of them, the corridor splits, one part continuing in their current direction, and the other turning to the right.

No words are spoken, still, and Darkrai thinks, for a few moments, to speak up. But… he would rather not. Best to let Dusknoir speak first, before Darkrai accidentally incriminates himself. Well, incriminates himself more, he has to admit to himself – is last plan truly did not succeed as he had wished it to.

Dusknoir’s voice, finally, pulls him out of his silent admission. “These two doors lead to the rooms of my subordinates.”

“The Sableye?” Darkrai allows himself to carefully ask, testing the waters, so to say.

Dusknoir nods. “Indeed. You already met Artabasdos and Irene, and I will introduce you to the rest of them later. They have been quite… ardent about finally meeting you. But please steer clear of their quarters, if possible.”

Darkrai cannot help his eyebrow from scrunching up – whyever should he search them out in the first place? – but moves on as Dusknoir continues their way, not taking the turn but instead following the corridor.

“But they have only known me for two days,” he says, “Two of which I could not be addressed in any way.”

“Ah…” Dusknoir scratches his head. “I was in contact with them while still in the past, and might have mentioned you in passing.”

For a few moments, Darkrai says nothing, and then, decides that this, most definitely, calls for a snicker. That is what Dareios would do, and Dareios is quite good at being a ghost, after all. “So I guess both of us were not as earnest as we made each other believe, hm?”

Dusknoir actually grimaces. “I could not be. And I will admit, after some thinking, I realize that the same was true for you.” He grows serious again. “This will change now, of course.”

“Of course,” Darkrai easily agrees. Now that he has an – apparently accepted – cover story he can use for most things where Dusknoir might question him, breathing has become easier again. As well as staying alive, most likely.

The corridor turns to the right, then, making room for yet another empty path. At the end is a door, though. Great. Darkrai has definitely not seen enough of those, today.

… Although he will admit, what with their blatant lack in Trash Town, and also the blatant lack of privacy there, doors are quite nice to have around. Even with two Pokémon able to just float through them. Or more? Dusknoir did not indicate that there is anyone but him and the Sableye here, but that does not mean anything. The bastard is quite good at conveniently forgetting to tell Darkrai things. Or not finding the time to do so.

… He really hates him. Even if Dusknoir very obviously feels differently.

“This door,” Dusknoir starts to say, before they have even arrived there yet, “Leads to the holding cells.” As his words find an end, he has reached the door and floats right on through. Darkrai follows him, starting to get accustomed to this way of moving around – and also starting to feel the first traces of hunger.

Behind the door are, as was to be expected, three small cells, each holding a small blanket and a bucket – but nothing else.

… Even if the actual cells look nicer (which Darkrai doubts), Pearl must be having quite a bad time. The realization leaves a somewhat bitter taste in Darkrai’s mouth, which makes no sense, because, well, it is not him in that situation, is it? He shakes the thought out of his head. It is not as if thinking about these things will change anything.

Also in the room are a table and two chairs. On the table, Darkrai can make out some pieces of paper, as well as some ink and a pen. On the wall to the left of the door, two shelves and one drawer stand, the remaining walls bare.

“Do you…” Darkrai starts, and then thinks if he is actually interested in finding out. Yes, he decides. He continues his question. “Do you get many prisoners?”

Dusknoir remains quiet for a few moments, and then floats out of the door again. How… impolite!

But Darkrai still follows. They turn to the right of the door – which is the left of the corridor they came from, and here, two more doors are.

Finally, the ghost answers. “Not as many as it would seem. Sometimes, there are… tries at a rebellion, so to put it. Whatever that is supposed to change. After, there are more. But generally, this world governs itself. This is, by the way,” he indicates the first door, “A small archive. I do not think you are interested in seeing that, though—”

Darkrai only hears the words following ‘archive’ through the door, having left Dusknoir behind to inspect that. Not interested, who? Things to read are always amazing, and an archive? Even better! What do they keep here, he wonders, because he is quite sure they do not have actual papers for each and every Pokémon in this time. Not that a system such as that could ever truly be established, no matter the period.

The archive is, as Dusknoir indicated, truly small, and it feels even smaller when Dusknoir follows Darkrai through the door. He is not just tall, but actually massive, is he not? Well. Whatever.

There are three shelves in the room, one on each wall where no door lies. On them, papers such as the ones Darkrai already saw on the desk previously are stacked on top of each other. There is not much of an order to be made out. In fact, even the paper piles themselves have the papers facing each and every direction – some are upside down, some are laid down lengthways, others sideways, but most something in between.

Horrible. Absolutely horrible.

“Don’t tell me you were actually an archiver before working at the bank with your Cousin,” Dusknoir… jokes? Darkrai would guess so, as indicated by tone, but the words themselves could also count as an actual statement he wants an answer to.

“When the chance presented itself, I preferred taking over the writing-parts of the dealings with the bank, instead of customer service. What are the documents here?”

“This and that,” Dusknoir answers, but when confronted with Darkrai’s annoyed glare, elaborates. “Mostly inventory and information on enemies. Wanted-Posters, pretty much, although many come from times before me. In many cases, those who are captured have items on them, and although I must admit some of their items simply go… missing once certain Pokémon get them in their hands—”, he coughs, obviously in shame – seems as if they have a little thief here, and it is an open secret, “The rest gets put in the storage room beside this one – that is the other door you saw. Some, we can use, and sometimes, when we need something, we will search either for an entry about it here in the archive, to know if it even exists, or search in the storage room directly.”

“Judging by this chaos of documents, I would assume the storage room looks even worse?”

Dusknoir laughs. “And you would be right. None of us here truly like cleaning up, and so we just concentrate on keeping the spaces we spend most of our time at orderly, instead of trying to tidy up the chaos of those who came before.”

Disgusting. Darkrai does not tell Dusknoir so, but he thinks it quite loudly.

“Interesting,” he decides on instead, and then turns towards the door once again. Before it, Dusknoir still floats – but luckily, he gets the message quickly enough. He turns around and floats out, Darkrai right behind him.

They end up on the corridor again. This time, Dusknoir turns to the left – which is the part they have not yet been. At the end of the corridor there is no intersecting path anymore, but rather what looks to be a much heavier door than the ones previously seen in this building. Made of…metal? Or perhaps polished stone. Moreover, it is a two-winged door, contrary to all the doors before.

“And this is the entrance,” Dusknoir says, pointing in its direction. “Would you want to see the outside, or do you rather want to take it slow? It might be somewhat of a shock.”

Darkrai thinks. Does he? Yes. Yes, he absolutely wants to see a possible route of escape.

“I am not quite so weak as to be shocked by whatever might wait outside.”

“Of course, of course, I am just making sure,” Dusknoir says, with a mirth in his voice which Darkrai is slowly starting to realize is actually… part of Dusknoir. It must be, he thinks, because there is no more reason to hide his true personality. But it feels strange, because Darkrai had actually noticed it before, now and then, still back in the past, and just always assumed that this was Dusknoir faking it, as usual.

How very, very strange this situation is.

Dusknoir then floats up to the door, and Darkrai, right beside him, is fully ready to just float through it, when Dusknoir quickly stretches his arm out, to block Darkrai from doing just that.

“You can’t do that with this door.”

Darkrai stares at him in incomprehension. He… what?

“I do not know the specifics, but whoever built the door managed to secure it against ghosts floating through. In fact, you would get a nasty electric shock if you tried. It is quite a good security feature- in fact, it is just like the doors at Magnezone’s jail in your past.”

“Ah. That makes sense, of course,” Darkrai agrees, having had no clue that, apparently, Magnezone’s doors could do so. That would make it quite hard to escape, huh?

Sceptical of its purposed power, he eyes this door of the future. It does not seem like it could do what Dusknoir claimed, but would the other lie to him? Not anymore, probably. He cannot be sure, and in fact, Darkrai should never allow himself to fully trust Dusknoir on everything he says. Actually, it would make sense to tell him this, get him to stay within the stockade without actually having to safeguard the door.

Or would Dusknoir expect Darkrai to come to that realization, and actually booby-trap the door, so that Darkrai, having seen through his supposed ruse, would seem extremely dumb to then still fall for it, when he tried floating through the door?

This… infuriating! He does not know!

Dusknoir, meanwhile, unaware of the conflict he just put Darkrai in – or maybe fully aware, darn it – has opened the door, and because Darkrai was not paying attention, he does not even know how to open the door normally, now. Darn it!

Well. It has happened, and acting as if he knows what is going on is the only way forward.

The door opens to a rocky path, confined between cliffs to each side. It is still quite broad, of course, but it makes for a tactical entry, certainly. Following Dusknoir fully outside, Darkrai turns to look around. There are more floating boulders, as he already saw from his room’s window, as well as some long-dead trees. Besides that… it is really not very interesting. There is the dark sky, of course (how beautiful), but even if Darkrai fully supports a world of total darkness… It is a little sad to look at, is it not? There are no stars, even, on the sky, and that…

For some reason, staring at this blank sky makes him feel something he cannot explain. He hates that feeling, because what is he supposed to do with it? It just sits there, a little in his chest, a little above, cold and hot, making him feel nauseous, trying to burn away something that is not there. It is unpleasant, and he is sure if he could just name it, he could work much more efficiently at making it disappear. But instead, he stares at the dark future before him, and just feels this strange something.

Maybe it is the missing moon, he realizes. The moon, no matter if waxing, waning, full or a new moon, is always a presence within his mind. He can always turn in its direction, and even if during some times, he dislikes looking at it, it is still something of a… comforting presence. So, most likely, not just being unable to see it, but being unable to locate it at all, must be that strange feeling.

“Are you…” Dusknoir starts, then trails off.

“Alright?” Darkrai finishes, knowing what he thought better of asking, “Yes, of course. In fact, more than that – this world is truly all I ever wished for.”

His words are not a lie, for once. The missing stars and moon are… unfortunate of course, and the existence of Primal Dialga even worse than a thorn in his side, but beside that? There is no unexpected breeze, no rustling trees. There are no sounds of stones being moved beneath the feet of other Pokémon, no pebbles unexpectedly rolling down a cliff. No smells of leaves or wood, no beating of wings in the distance.

There is just darkness.

It is…

Beautiful. So very beautiful. To see it like this truly drives in that point.

Darkrai had not ever truly spent time in the dark future. He initiated it becoming reality, and once Dialga started losing control, used his power to create Dimensional Holes, to travel to certain points in time. Take a look at how things had developed, make sure things were going according to plan. But creating Dimensional Holes has never been easy for him, and so, he kept his travels to a bare minimum, and did not see a lot of the dark future whenever he used them.

It was luck on his part that he caught Grovyle and Pearl making plans to change the past, that he knew where and when they wanted to travel to. And maybe, it was misfortune that he did not attempt to stop them right then, but he was always careful. And so, instead, he decided to attack them as they travelled to the past.

Still, his times in the dark future are very few, and never had he been in an area like this, which truly drove in how… beautifully bleak the future could look. He had also not quite realized what a tyrant Primal Dialga was, during those short travels.

But of course, this world is still a failed attempt at what he wishes for. Primal Dialga is an existence which cannot be ignored, just like the fact that, for Darkrai to survive, this world will have to die, alongside all his inhabitants. Tragic, of course, but unavoidable. And fortunately, it is not as if he cares for anyone in this time.

“Then I am… glad.” There is something like hesitation in Dusknoir’s voice, and Darkrai turns to stare at his hated companion. Why the hesitation? Was he scared that Darkrai would dislike the world he came from? Or is there something else… beneath it? Dusknoir cannot dislike this world, of course – it is perfect for Ghost Types. Or did he think about Primal Dialga?

That… could be it. Darkrai just hopes that Dusknoir will not insist on making him meet that beast, because if it came to that… Fleeing would be Darkrai’s only option. Primal Dialga cannot be reasoned with, and although he is not quite sure if Dialga ever came close to realizing who had sabotaged his tower… it would be too dangerous. Of course, even if he realized, it is not clear if the knowledge stuck when he became Primal Dialga, but…

But if it did…

Well, Darkrai would not count on his illusion being inscrutable to Dialga.

“There is one more thing I would like to ask you, before we move back in,” Dusknoir speaks up, “Can you promise to answer truthfully?”

Darkrai turns to him, but does not look at him directly, his attention instead caught by one boulder floating just a little to the side of their heads. It has a strange form – almost squared, in some places, but very obviously broken. As if it had been part of a building. How… strange.

“I…” He starts, and then looks away from that rock. “Yes, of course. Now, I can be.”

Dusknoir nods. “Alright. Then let me ask: Why do you care for Pearl so much? Why did you decide to stay at her side?”

… Darn it. He really ran into that one, did he not? Sure, he wanted to know about why Dusknoir decided to have her executed, but now, he turned the topic around! Of course he did, he is Dusknoir. Darned ghost.

But then, he realizes that, of course, he now has an explanation for that! His previous lie was truly the best thing he could have come up with.

He sighs heavily.

“Darkrai took an interest in her,” he says, “And commanded me to keep a watch on her. Why it wanted me to do so, I never learnt, or dared to ask. But that is the true reason why I befriended her.” He sighs, making sure to watch Dusknoir’s expression as he does so. For now, the ghost is not yet very expressive, but being outside, with a clear route to escape makes Darkrai more self-assured in what he says.

Besides, Dusknoir believed all the previous things he said, ever since he started blaming ‘Darkrai’. So he should just buy this, too. And so, Darkrai continues, even if Dusknoir does not say anything yet.

“Perhaps… Perhaps you are right, in believing her to be that human you once knew. Perhaps Darkrai also suspected that, and wanted me to look for sign, proving her to be so. Which I have to admit, I did not truly find, but that might be because…”

He trails off, really not liking that he will have to, undeniably, reveal what Pearl seemingly managed to keep from Dusknoir for so long, but… Darkrai has to think of himself first. He has to give Dusknoir what he wants to hear, and besides, it is not his secret, anyways. The worst thing which could happen to him right now is that he could be included in whatever execution plans Dusknoir has, and if he has to tell Pearl’s secrets to keep that from becoming true, then he will do so.

“Well, you might have already started gathering it, but she has amnesia. There is nothing she remembers from her time before Treasure Town. And thus, gathering any sort of intel about her was… complicated.”

Dusknoir hums. “I had started to suspect so, yes. You two kept it very secret, though.”

Darkrai sighs. “Indeed. I feared that if I told anyone, you included, and it got out, I would immediately lose her trust. I was not willing to let that happen.”

“That does explain your strange… protectiveness of her, when you were still in the past. But why does it continue here? I am sure that she is the accomplice of Grovyle. She wanted to bring ruin to this world, to stop it from ever coming into existence, to make everything and everyone from it disappear. So why are you still so very protective of her?” At the end, Dusknoir’s voice has taken on an accusing tone, and Darkrai, half-acting, half in an actual reaction, averts his gaze to the ground. There are just stones to be seen, not even dead grass.

“In the ways which matter, she is still a child. But more importantly,” Darkrai says, no idea what he is going to say next, “She is a… blank slate. And she has potential. You might not have seen it, because she was careful around you, thinking you to be another good and righteous Pokémon,” he spits those words out, and even if he still does not know what, exactly, he is going to say next, he likes the direction his words have taken, “But she has a cunning mind. More importantly, though, she is also incredibly loyal to me.”

Dusknoir’s eye widens, as if in sudden understanding. “You were hoping to gain a henchman in her.”

Darkrai laughs, because this is just so very far removed from the truth. Sure, she might actually make a good henchman, but he just wants to take revenge on her. And, more importantly, she is his only real reassurance that he will not accidentally erase himself from time. But Dusknoir’s interpretation fits into this tale he has spun so nicely, and so, he nods.

“Exactly. To see all of my work go to waste just like that…” He sighs.

Dusknoir seems to be the slightest bit uncomfortable. “I… do apologize. In hindsight, I can see how you were influencing her, but… for the continued existence of this future, she will have to die. Please realize that.”

“I do,” Darkrai hurriedly assures him, “I just regret it very much.”

“I understand,” Dusknoir says, and then, sighs. “But it is either her or me.”

“And I would always choose you,” Darkrai lies, the words leaving a horrid, disgusting taste in his mouth. But the way Dusknoir visibly lightens up makes it worth it. For someone who is so talented at lying, he is surprisingly bad at suspecting others of lying to him. The folly of many liars, it seems.

And then, for a while, they grow silent, just as the world around them is. And it is truly… disconcerting. Perfect, yes, of course. But disconcerting. There is no noise, beside Darkrai’s beating heart and slow breaths, and he starts to fear that Dusknoir might start picking them up, and so, he is about to speak up – but Dusknoir beats him to it.

“Well,” the ghost says, his previous tone returned, “There are still some more things inside the stockade I wish to show you, and also some things we need to discuss. We should head back inside.”

Darkrai hums in agreement and turns around – and this, then, is the first time he sees it.

 

[Picture Description:
The picture shows a big crevice, in the middle of which a path lies. At its end, a doorframe is situated, both wings of the door open outwards. In the upper part of the picture, a dark sky can be seen. The sides of the crevice are littered with rocks of different sizes. Three dead trees are also situated there, getting closer to the viewpoint. Also around the sides of the crevice, as well as to be seen in the sky, are rocks, which are suspended in midair, seemingly tumbling down. A little to the left side of the picture, on the sky, are the floating ruins of a tower. Rocks seem to be falling in every which direction.
Before the doorframe, Dusknoir stands, half-turned towards the viewer of the picture, his hands seemingly crossed behind his back. Somewhat closer to the viewer, and also further from the door, stands Darkrai, in a somewhat static pose, his back to the viewer. However, his hair indicates that he might be looking up, towards the crumbling tower.]

 

He… had not thought about why there were rocks floating here, really, he had just assumed that, perhaps, everywhere in the future, things were… strange. In disarray. Chaotic. But obviously, for so many stones to fall, the moment that time stopped, there must either have been something like an earthquake happening, or…

Or something like Temporal Tower collapsing very, very close by, its stones never able to reach the ground before a panicked Dialga made them and everything else stop.

And here, now, he can see exactly that – a tower in the air, or rather, what remains of it. Some stones still holding a rough shape, but many more seemingly breaking away this very second, and even more already closing in on the ground.

Darkrai can imagine it, terrifyingly accurate. The ground trembling, cliffs splitting, boulders falling, and then, as the Pokémon of the Forbidden Land stare at Temporal Tower, it breaking before their eyes, becoming a ruin in what must have been seconds, minutes at most; it feeling like both an eternity and the shortest moment of their lives at once. Perhaps some rocks of Temporal Tower had even fallen before it truly broke apart – no, actually, it must have happened like this. Over hours, maybe days, parts of the tower breaking loose, falling. Dialga, trying desperately to keep his tower’s destruction at bay, but knowing that he could not keep doing so infinitely, because infinity is so very long but the stones of his tower are still finite. Knowing that, if nothing else happened, if no one helped him, either his tower would crumble, or he would go insane. What did he fear more?

Did he try to get help, in those last few days? Did anyone try to help him?

Maybe… Maybe Uxie, Azelf and Mesprit tried to come to his aid, thinking that, if them guarding their Time Gears could not stop this catastrophe, they could perhaps help Dialga at his side. Arriving just as the tower crumbled, none of their powers of any help, they could just helplessly watch as the Dialga they had known for millennia became a mindless beast. Did they try to calm him? Were they… hurt? Or—

Perhaps other Legendaries tried to come to Dialga’s aid. Sure, he and his brother do not get along quite as well as some others, but they do treasure each other, Darkrai knows. They might tend to argue everything out physically, but after that is done, they laugh, and there remain no hard feelings.

Did Palkia try to save his brother’s realm? He could not have arrived in time, if he did, because then the future would not be as it is. So did he arrive after, to see the brother he treasures so much nothing more than a wild beast, not even willing to listen to anything he could try to say? And knowing Palkia, he must have decided to fight, to calm his brother like this, but Dialga in his Primal form must have been much stronger than anticipated, and he would not have had any mercy to grant. But Palkia would not just—

What happened after? This world has existed for not just decades, but actual centuries. Were there more Legendaries, trying to change the situation? Did some try to argue with Primal Dialga, only to become the recipients of its never-ending rage? Did others try to fight it, following Palkia’s example? Were there some who chose to hide and hope that things may become better on their own?

Did they… survive?

For the shortest moment, Darkrai is struck by the thought that Cresselia would always stand up to those she decided were being unjust, even if they were stronger than her – even if they were Primal Dialga. His heartbeat speeds up as a chill runs over his back. Which would mean that in this time, she—

He violently shakes his head. Where did all of this come from? None of it matters!

Even if all he just thought about would have happened this way, it is of no interest to him what sacrifices had to be made by others to ensure a perfect world for him! They never cared for the sacrifices he made, to allow them their happy, perfect world; so why should he care for their sacrifices to ensure his perfect world?!

So what if some of the others died? Everything dies at some point! And it is not as if he did not already decide to stop this dark future from ever coming to be, so who cares what is the past, right now?

Seeing the ruin of Temporal Tower might have been a surprise, of course, but a pleasant one. There is no reason for him to feel his chest constrict so very much, unless it does so in preparation of some feeling of happiness, which might soon flood him. No, no he is sure that is its reason, actually. As he once again takes the scene before him in, he makes sure that this time he only feels happiness about it.

A smile grows on his face, and it is not forced in the slightest.

“Darcy?” Dusknoir calls, already standing behind the door again.

“I am coming, do not worry yourself unnecessarily,” Darkrai answers the unasked question – or maybe asked, but only through use of his supposed name. Thinking about this, he really should ask Dusknoir about his name, if he keeps insisting on calling him Darcy, should he not? No matter if he already knows it.

And as Dusknoir closes the door behind them, Darkrai finally comes to realize that this dark world of the future was truly an almost a perfect creation. No matter what had to be sacrificed for it.

The way back through the corridor, which Darkrai was already shown, passes in silence at first. It suits Darkrai, because he does not feel like talking right now. They already did so much of it, but of course he knows that there will still be talking, today. Maybe he should act like he is unwell? He was unconscious the last two days, and took an unfortunate tumble in front of Dusknoir; he could certainly act as if he was still feeling a little worse for wear.

But then, Dusknoir would think him weak – and he must already do so, since he won against Darkrai in their mock-fight; and thus, he will think him even weaker.

No, Darkrai therefore decides. He won’t act weak right now. Maybe later. But not right now.

This time, they take the corridor they had not previously taken, making a turn to the left, as perceived from their position now. On this corridor, two doors lie, situated on opposite walls. Dusknoir points at the one on the left.

“This door leads to the kitchens and larder. Kitchen duty is generally taken over by one or two of the Sableye, so as long as you remain here, you do not have to worry about it.” He then gestures to the door on the right. “Behind this door lies the canteen. Generally, we eat there together, although on some days, I remain in my room instead. My underlings can be quite… rowdy.” He laughs.

Darkrai thinks of joining the laugh – surely, it would be the polite thing to do – but decides against it, because no. Just… no.

Instead of perhaps showing him the canteen, Dusknoir continues along the corridor, and Darkrai, well, he just follows behind him, as he has been doing this entire day. The corridor makes another turn then, to the right, and this time, a heavy-looking door is situated at its end. It seems to be made of wood – just as all doors until now, except for the door leading outside, of course.

He turns his head towards Darkrai as he explains, “Behind this door is the corridor leading up to the execution place, as well as the corridor leading to the actual prison area.” Then, his eyes narrows, the tiniest bit, “Which I will not show you today.”

Darkrai rolls his eye. “Do not worry, I won’t try to break Pearl out. I might disagree on your planned course of action, but I will not betray you because of that.” This might be one of the boldest lies he has told the ghost today, but Dusknoir seems to be appeased by it, anyways. And since Dusknoir likes to believe his lies so much, Darkrai will obviously not stop, either.

“I was not accusing you of wanting to do so,” Dusknoir hurries to appease, “But there are some more prisoners besides Grovyle and Pearl, and they tend to be… unpleasant company.”

… Of course they are, they are locked up. Darkrai would be unpleasant company if locked up, as well!

For a few moments, the memory he has been trying to suppress the entire day tries to climb back up – because was he not locked up? – but he violently forces it down. He does not want to recall this! He was weak, then, weak and useless! This being is no longer him! So why did his dreams insist on bringing it up again?!

He does not care for it! Besides, everyone he saw in that memory – in this time, they are gone! He covers his face with his hands and takes a deep breath through his fingers. The air now smells like his hands, and is much warmer than before, and slowly, he breathes out again.

This… He had succeeded once in burying this accursed memory, he can do so again.

And then, he can hear Dusknoir’s worried voice.

“… you not feeling well? Do you want to—”

He interrupts before Dusknoir can embarrass himself any more.

“I am alright. Just a short… dizzy spell.”

“Are you sure? We can—”

“If I was not, would I claim to be?” Darkrai hisses, staring straight at Dusknoir. And then… then, Dusknoir averts his eye. It is so very uncharacteristic of him that Darkrai can just blink, trying to comprehend the action.

“Of course not. Excuse me, I am simply still worried about your wellbeing.”

For a few moments, Darkrai says nothing, because how would he even react to that?

… He would not, that would be the best course of action. And so, he just huffs and then, in a tone which clearly shows some annoyance but not so much as to be perceived as impolite (hopefully), he says, “Well, what do you want to show me next?”

“Ah, yes, of course…” Dusknoir says, trails off, and then picks the topic up again, “If it is not too much for you, I would like to introduce you to the Sableye.”

“I already told you—”

“No, no, it was not meant that way!” Dusknoir says, and then laughs, in clear embarrassment. “They tend to be… a handful, even if one were to be in perfect health. This was meant in relation to them, not you.”

“Ah, of course,” Darkrai says, and then, he thinks. Does he want to meet them? No, not particularly. Would it be smart to learn how many of them there are, what their abilities are, and so on? If it comes down to a prison break, yes, unfortunately. And so, meeting them now rather than later is of course the smartest course of action.

Ugh. He hates socializing even on his best days and today is, admittedly, not that.

“Yes, of course,” he says, in a neutral tone. He cannot pretend that he actually wants to do so, and so, a neutral tone is the best Dusknoir will get.

“Splendid!” the ghost exclaims, either not noticing or choosing to ignore Darkrai’s tone – a theme of today, now that he thinks about it. Reading Dusknoir is incredibly easy in some situations, and almost impossible in others.

“They should have assembled in the communal room, I will show you the way there – and I think it will be the last room I show you today. I still have some things to do, and I think this is enough for one day.”

Things to do, huh? Darkrai is almost entirely sure that by that, he means ‘antagonize Grovyle by telling him that he will soon execute him, now that ‘Darcy’ has woken up’.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Darkrai hurries to agree, because he knows himself, and he knows that after socializing with Dusknoir’s underlings, he will want nothing more than to just retreat to a quiet place.

And then, they make their way to this communal room – first, they float through the door they stopped in front, and find themselves, as expected, in a corridor – although this one is much broader than the previous one, and also ends in an uncharacteristic double door. Both to the left and right are the usual one-wing doors, the right one which Darkrai and Dusknoir take, finding themselves once again in one of the ‘standard-size’ corridors. Two doors are situated here, one on the right-hand side, and another on the left, the latter which they make their way to.

“This door,” Dusknoir says, indicating the other door, “Also leads to the canteen. And this one, of course, leads to the communal area.” And with that, he actually opens the door, this time.

That… so does that mean that Ghost Types float through doors when there are only Ghost Types involved, and open them when there are others? But wait, Sableye are also Ghost Types, are they not? Or Dark Types?

… Darkrai is sure they are Dark Types. But… Maybe a double typing? He should know that, and that he does not shows him that he might already be more tired than he wants to admit. It does not matter, anyways – no, wait, it does. If they are Ghost Types, can they also traverse walls? But… Darkrai has never actually seen a Sableye do so.

How infuriating, not to know!

Even more infuriating, however, is the noise Dusknoir, and by proxy Darkrai, are greeted with, the moment the door opens. There are many shouts of “Lord Dusknoir!” and also “Master Dusknoir!”, and Darkrai feels the tiniest pang of jealousy. He has not been called ‘Master Darkrai’ or anything similar in eons. That is just… unfair.

A voice breaks through the many calls, shouting, “Guys, guys, look, it’s Darcy!”

This actually makes Darkrai scoff out loud. “I do not remember giving you the privilege of using my name.”

Some cackling is his answer to that, as well as an actually embarrassed-seeming Dusknoir. “Everyone, calm yourself,” he almost-shouts, and his words have an almost-immediate effect. There is some more whispering going on, but it is much more acceptable than the previous ruckus.

The sudden calm also gives Darkrai the chance to inspect the room, as well as its inhabitants. There are six Sableye he can count, and Dusknoir did indicate that this might be all of them. That is… surprisingly fewer than Darkrai expected. Then again, supposedly, the amount of Pokémon alive might have gone down drastically in the future – or actually, it must have – and as such, their smaller number might not be so small, by their standards.

The room itself does look like a communal space. There is a large sitting area, a low table and some chairs, some shelfs, filled with various things – Darkrai can make out some playing cards, as well as dice, and a few scrolls.

Then, Dusknoir speaks up again, and Darkrai, begrudgingly, pays attention to that.

“Alright, everyone, line up for introductions.”

How… military. And surprisingly enough, the previously rowdy bunch does so – although there is some elbowing going on, as well as kicks here and there.

Deciding that no one else will come, probably, Darkrai closes the door.

“Thank you,” Dusknoir says, sending Darkrai a… smile? Disgusting. “Alright, so, from right to left, we have Zoe, Maurikios, Zenon, Irene, Theodora, and Artabasdos.”

Darkrai narrows his eye. Does Dusknoir expect him to… recall all of those names? Or even be able to tell apart the Sableye?

… Alright, the second part might actually be possible, as long as they are next to each other – there are obvious size differences, and some of the gems on the Sableye’s bodies are different colours. But putting names to their appearance? No, that is asking far too much, especially for Pokémon Darkrai does not care about.

“Everyone,” Dusknoir says, not caring for the impossible task he has just presented to Darkrai, this time addressing his underlings, “This is Darcy. However, you will refer to him as Duskull.” His last words have a threatening undertone, and good! Darkrai does not want to be called ‘Darcy’ by anyone, least of all these useless side characters! “Treat him with the same amount of respect you treat me with. Understood?”

There are multiple “Yes, sir!”-s and other variants of this going through the Sableye. And then, one of them speaks up.

“Duskull, hey, Duskull!” One of the Sableye crows… Irene? Darkrai recalls having heard that voice and inflection before – this must have been Door Duty. “Is it true that you’re overweight?”

Darkrai splutters. Overweight?! What?!

“Irene!” Dusknoir actually hisses, sounding truly angered. “What did I just tell you?!”

“It’s not her fault!” another Sableye says – perhaps Theodora? – and why is he even attempting to tell them apart?!, “It was you who said that he’s really heavy to carry around, Master Dusknoir!”

“That could just mean that he’s close to evolution,” yet another Sableye says, in a much calmer fashion than the previous two – Darkrai believes he might be the one called Maurikios.

“Yeah,” a new one says, “It’s mean to j-j-just assume that he-, that he-, he-, to assume that he’s overweight is s-s-s-super impolite!” Was this the one called Zoe? Ugh, why is he even trying to tell them apart?

“I brought him food and it was a normal portion!” yet a new one adds – and this must have been Tray Duty. Darkrai faintly recalls him being called Artabasdos. What an unfortunate name that one was burdened with. A wonder Darkrai even recalls the name.

“Yeah, but that was cause you’re too stupid to ask him how much he wanted,” Irene? well, previous Door-Duty says, and Maybe-Theodora adds, “We all know that your IQ is below your size in centimetres, Bas.”

The now named ‘Bas’ – and yes, that confirms that he must be Artabasdos, it is literally a shortening of the name – shrinks under their words.

“C-come on guys, he-he’s not so, he’s not so-so-so, he’s not so-, so…” The Sableye breaks off to take a deep breath. Then, she continues. “Bad. Not so bad.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Theodora, Darkrai has decided, waves her off. “Sure. Still, my question stands.” And suddenly, she is looking at Darkrai again. “Are you overweight or—”

“Theodora!” Dusknoir actually shouts, “If you do not stop right now, you know what will happen!”

The one Darkrai has decided is Maurikios makes a drawn out ‘Uuuuh’ sound, and the one who did not say anything previously – which would make him Zenon, probably – snickers. “Bold of you to assume she isn’t into that, Lord Dusknoir.”

Dusknoir throws him a scathing gaze.

These… These Sableye are certainly… a lot, Darkrai decides. And also the kind of Pokémon he dislikes having contact with. Much too prone to mischief, impolite questions and being general annoyances. No surprise that they are Dusknoir’s underlings, then.

“There will be no more questions pertaining to Darcy’s weight, do you understand?” he says, now looking at all of them angrily. Some of them seem to shrink under his gaze, while others just grin, and say a quick, “Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Then, Dusknoir turns to Darkrai. “I apologize for their appalling behaviour. They must have decided to test how far they are allowed to go, in the worst possible way.”

Darkrai stares at the ghost, for a few moments not sure what to say. ‘Do not worry’ would be the polite thing to say, but who cares about being polite in this company? ‘They are menaces, and I do not want to have any contact with them, ever again’ would be the truth, but also unacceptable, most likely. ‘Make sure it does not happen again’ would maybe be best, but also just the slightest bit too demanding.

Oh, whatever, he decides. They behaved like… badly behaved bastards, he can demand that they do not do so, again. Thus, he huffs. “Obviously. Do not let them act out that way again.”

Some of the Sableye cackle at that, another crows, “Ohhh, he’s feisty, Lord Dusknoir!” but at least two voices can be heard trying to apologize.

“So, you wanna play some cards or something, Duskull?” one Sableye then asks, Maurikios, he thinks. The answer to that is obvious, of course. But before he is given the chance to say anything, another voice pops up.

“Or dice! I’m great at playing dice!”

“You eating the dice of the winner does not count as being good—”

“Sure it does, you’re just jealous—”

“Oh, oh, you could also tell us about the past!!”

“I’m just saying that eating dice is a perfectly—"

“Leave him alone, he came here cause the past sucks—”

“S-s-says the-, the one who hasn’t-, hasn’t-, the one who hasn’t been in the past—”

“And it’s actually tactical thinking which ones to eat—"

“Everyone, silence!”

“Maybe you wanna see the prisoners—”

“Cards are much better we should play cards—”

“Or eat them!”

“You don’t just show prisoners on the first day—”

“Y-y-yeah, you gotta-, you gotta-, gotta wait, for at least the s-s-s-second—”

“Silence!”

“Cards suck, they taste like paper—”

“Guys we are not showing him the prisoners—”

“Yeah maybe cuz they are paper—”

“SILENCE!” A booming voice raises above the cacophonous sounds the Sableye were producing. Darkrai would jerk, if he was not already completely stiffened up. Too loud, all of this got much too loud! He’s… This…

This is too much. This is too much.

“Darcy, I apologize once again, they—”

“I want to return to my room,” Darkrai interrupts, not caring how impolite he might be, how angry it might make Dusknoir, how much possible knowledge he is giving up by retreating. He can’t—

He just can’t deal with them right now. Maybe ever. This is too much, he can’t do this. One of his hands cramps up, with how hard he tries to keep it from shaking, and no one can see, they can’t, he—

“Are you feeling—”

“Obviously I am not alright!” he hisses. “It’s too loud, I’m hungry, and I’ve got a headache! Every second I feel like I might stumble and fall!” The next moment, he stops himself and instead starts massaging his temple with the one hand which did not yet cramp. This—

This was much too honest. He cannot bring himself to care. Probably because of all the things he just mentioned.

And even worse, there is just silence. No confused whispering, no one telling him that he is overreacting, no one intent on… well. He does not know. The only thing he knows, right now, is that he wants to get to the bed that is called ‘his’ in this time, and go to sleep. Sleep so deeply that no nightmares have the chance to encroach.

A futile hope, he is well aware.

When still no answer or reaction comes, he just turns in the direction of the door. “I am leaving,” he says, as if it was not obvious from his action, and he does not bother with opening the door – he still has no clue as to the unspoken rules of Ghost Types, no idea whether that was impolite or not, but surprise, surprise, he does not care.

He finds himself in the corridor, and after thinking about it for a few moments, decides to follow it where he and Dusknoir had not yet gone, and then take the left-hand turn. If his dimensional thinking is correct, then that should lead him back to the corridor with Dusknoir’s rooms, as well as the guest rooms.

He is, luckily – or not luckily, but obviously – correct, and before he has made his way to even the first of the doors, he can hear Dusknoir’s booming voice from the common area. He cannot make out the words, exactly, but he does not sound happy. Probably chastising the Sableye. Maybe doing whatever he threatened that one Sableye – Theodora? – with. Darkrai really does not care.

Instead, he continues his way, realizing that he, most definitely, overextended himself. He can only move with the help of his legs, and those are shaking with each step he has to take. He is just happy that no one is here to see him like this.

This would be a great chance to investigate the parts of the stockade he has not yet seen, he realizes. Maybe even a good chance to find Pearl and…

Free her? Help her escape? But he cannot even stand up straight right now, and he knows Dusknoir, by now. He might be busy shouting at his Sableye, for the moment, but once he has done so, he will immediately try to find Darkrai, trail after him like a lost Lillipup. And if he does not find him in his room – where Darkrai explicitly expressed wanting to go to – he would definitely search for him next at the cells.

Could he have found and freed Pearl before that? He does not even know the layout of that part of the stockade! He does not know how many cells there are, does not know how they are secured, does not know how to open the main door Dusknoir showed him previously, does not know where they could flee to.

Having arrived in front of the door to his guest room, he stares at the corridor for a few more moments. The execution place might be connected to the cells…

But no. Pearl will have to wait. Darkrai will make sure that she does not die, but he won’t free her right now.

Instead, he floats through the door – he is already feeling his stomach contract in hunger, so what’s a little more hunger to add on top of that? – and instead of looking around the room some more, just lets himself fall on the bed. He almost falls on the bag, and, regretfully, takes it off his shoulder. He could put it on the drawer, but that would mean standing up, and…

He lets it fall to the floor instead.

Then, blowing out the oil lamp, which seemingly was left burning the entire time, he crawls beneath the blanket, and once that is done, pulls it over his head. Maybe, if – no, when, he corrects himself, so… when Dusknoir arrives and sees a vaguely Pokémon shaped lump on the bed, he will just leave him alone, instead of apologizing again or something.

He stares at the blanket for a few moments, and then closes his eye. Best to pretend to sleep, or something. Also, if he actually falls asleep, he won’t feel his hunger so much, he knows from experience.

He does not even notice when he stops being awake.

 

 

Notes:

[Darkrai, answering Dusknoir's questions: Random Bullshit Go!!]

Hi! Great to read y'all again, and hope you enjoyed this chapter!
And yeah, this chapter has actual art hehe. You all are to blame for it, your amazing comments and all of your fanart inspired me and made me wanna draw, too!
I've also made an Instagram account, and some months ago a Deviantart-Account, for this profile of mine; and I think I'll activate them and post my art over there, as well. Once I've done that, I'll put the links in my bio, so if you're interested (but don't feel pressured, please!) you can look them up. Might need some days, though.

So, fun fact: I had an incredibly hard time writing this chapter. It honestly felt like trying to wrangle a lion. Not that I've ever wrangled a lion, but I would imagine it might feel similar to writing this chapter.
... Yeah okay maybe a baby-lion. Still.
By the end, I had started really, really hating it :/
But! My Beta has finally caught up with this story again (the last chapter which was beta-ed by her was Chapter 8, pretty much; I've been writing mostly beta-less (at least when it comes to the actual writing part, not the brainstorming) the last ten chapters pretty much oopsie), and so, she actually read and helped me with this chapter before it was published! Yay! And she actually made me not-hate this chapter anymore. So huge thanks to her, for that, as well as the beta-ing!

Another fun fact: Darkrai’s lies in this chapter don’t add up. At all. For example, he says he could not tell Dusknoir certain ‘secrets’ for fear of drawing ‘Darkrai’s’ interest to him; and shortly after tells Dusknoir of how he actually did draw ‘Darkrai’s’ interest, even before, for example, their talk in Chapter 18, where some of the implied secrets were not told. Idiot’s really here, pulling out whatever Dusknoir wants to hear.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next one will hopefully be posted around the end of May (or should I say: it may be posted in May), since I've got a lot of stuff coming up. We'll see. Y'all are amazing with your patience, anyways, so don't worry about me stressing myself over it!

Chapter 20: Partners in Time

Summary:

Last Chapter: Darkrai woke up in the dark future, where he was treated as Dusknoir's guest - at least after he was forced to admit to certain things, which he absolutely made up instead of being honest for once in his life.
He was then shown around the stockade in which he found himself in, and met six Sableye, who are Dusknoir's henchmen; and he also learnt that Dusknoir plans to have Pearl executed, something Darkrai very much does not agree with.

Notes:

Please check out this amazing art by MiaBeastGrimmua/BlueCrowWings, which you can find here: https://www.deviantart.com/bluecrowwings/art/Pearl-No-914437682

(and I swear that one of these days I will actually link all these fanarts instead of just copying the link and leaving y'all to do the actual work. but this day is not today. sorry.)

Grovyle hasn’t given up, yet.

That’s not easy, of course, when everything seems to be going wrong. Well, not seems to, probably. Everything is going wrong.

First of all, he hasn’t got any kind of escape plan for what Dusknoir’s about to do next. Secondly, he actually doesn’t know what that even is. And third, he strongly suspects that Dusknoir might be planning to murder him.

No, scrap that, he’s definitely planning it. Which is really, really bad, and Grovyle would very much prefer not to be murdered. So he’s got to find a way to escape, but he still doesn’t know the exact plan, and… yeah. These three problems create a never-ending circle, basically. Or a funky triangle.

Well, whatever. Dusknoir’s planning to murder him, that’s what he’s sure is going to happen next. The only thing irritating him is just that Dusknoir’s taking so long.

Grovyle’s been sitting in this cell for close to three days now! And sure, Dusknoir paid him a visit a few times, told him that things will end soon, but… Well, he did not quite seem his usual self. He didn’t gloat as much, didn’t tell Grovyle how he would laugh once he was dead, didn’t even tell him what a ‘recalcitrant rebel’ he was – his favourite insult!

Instead, he’d come to the cell, stare at Grovyle for a while, and finally say something along the lines of ‘Grovyle counting himself lucky that he would be allowed to stay on this planet just a day more’. And then, he would leave.

It is… uncharacteristic. It feels absolutely wrong.

If Grovyle did not know any better, he would say that Dusknoir was downbeat, maybe even worried. But there’s no reason for that! He caught Grovyle, Grovyle can’t find a way to escape – and Dusknoir knows that, because Grovyle would’ve already fled if he could. For all intents and purposes, Dusknoir has won!

Obviously, Grovyle won’t let him enjoy that win for long – he won’t let himself get killed, and he will escape, and then… he’ll find Celebi once again, collect those stupid Time Gears, and stop this fucking time from existing in the first place.

But for that, he needs to find a way out of this cell.

Sighing heavily, he sits down on the one flimsy blanket he was granted. He would say that it has seen better days, but really, that would be selling it for too much. It’s not even a rag, to be honest. Still, it beats sitting on the cold stone ground directly. Stones he sadly can’t dig through.

He’s pretty sure that the ground being made of stone was just a lucky guess by whoever built this cursed stockade, because Dusknoir still has not caught on to Grovyle knowing Dig. If he had, he’d gloat a lot more about it.

For a while, Grovyle stares just at the metal bars keeping him from freedom. There’s a few places where he’s already hit them with various attacks, but obviously, they didn’t give. He could try again, but… He already knows that it won’t help.

With an annoyed shout, he stands up again. This is infuriating! He’s forced to just sit here, wait for Dusknoir to decide when to kill him, and hope that Pearl, at least, is safe in the past, still working on collecting more Time Gears. Or re-collecting those that were taken from him.

He’s… He’s worried. Of course he’s worried! Their travel to the past was a disaster, to say the least. Things went wrong, they got separated, and then… They didn’t meet again.

And while Grovyle needs to believe that she’s still alive and well, he obviously doubts. If nothing had happened, they should have run across each other. Because they planned which Time Gears to take in which order, and sure, maybe he was too quick at first. But at least when he had taken the Gears from Uxie and Mesprit, Pearl would have known that he would go for Azelf’s next. She should have had enough time to make her way to Crystal Cave, too, so they could continue on together, but she… didn’t.

And Grovyle knows her. He knows her very well. He knows she wouldn’t just abandon their task, no matter what happened. Unless she—

No. No, she’s alright, he tells himself. He’s been doing so a lot, the last months. Because believing anything else would mean… giving up. Which he’s not doing. No matter what Dusknoir tries to do.

And then, as if summoned by his thoughts, he hears steps coming closer. The pattern would indicate the owners as Sableye, if their loud conversation had not already told him their identity. They do not care about being overheard, probably, because no one in these cells can do anything about it, anyways. Or they are just too stupid to realize that prisoners still have the ability to listen in. Maybe both.

“-but when I brought him food today, he was, like, really hissy,” one says.

A second voice answers. “Yeah, well, obviously. Irene and Theodora really tried to go for maximum damage.”

A sigh can be heard, and then, a third voice speaks up – which is very unusual, the Sableye generally tend to walk around in pairs. “That they sure did.”

“I mean, at least the girls got what was coming for them,” the second voice says, and the third one laughs. “And Theodora fully enjoyed herself.”

One of them groans, and adds, “She always does.”

“Hey, uh, guys,” the first one then speaks up again, nervousness clear in his voice, “You think Grovyle’s gonna try to attack us?”

That makes both the others laugh, and Grovyle perk up. They are talking about him, attacking them? Which might mean that they will make more contact with him than just placing his food before the bars, and verbally antagonizing him a little.

“Of course he will, he’s a wily asshole!” Grovyle forces himself to keep quiet. Even if he wants to tell them just who are the assholes here. And maybe punch them.

“Yeah, when we helped Lord Dusknoir move him to the future, we had to muzzle him not just cause he might say anything incriminating.”

“The bastard almost bit me,” second voice says, and oh, Grovyle remembers that. He just wishes he had actually managed to do so. Even if it wouldn’t have helped him get free, it would’ve certainly given him a degree of satisfaction.

Finally, the Sableye seem to round the corner, behind which Grovyle’s cell lies. Their conversation dies down – and do they really think he could not hear them, before? Idiots.

Soon enough, they are before his cell. Grovyle throws them the angriest glare he can muster, and at least one of them takes a step back. Good.

“Hey, asshole,” second voice speaks up, “Rejoice! You’re gonna die today!” And then he and one other Sableye cackle. The one who took a step back before seems to think about joining in, but Grovyle’s glare makes him take back another step.

“You keep believing that,” Grovyle answers, aware how weak of an answer it is. He’s… he’s gonna survive. He knows it.

“Yeah, sure.” Second voice says, but when he turns to say more, third voice actually speaks up.

“So, you have two choices, Grovyle. You can either just let us shackle you, or—”

“Like hell I will!”

The Sableye sighs deeply, and his two companions join in. “Of course you won’t. Alright. Zenon, you help me in the cell. Bas, you take the keys and keep the door closed.”

“You think you can win against me?” Grovyle scoffs, absolutely intent on fighting. He might feel weak on his legs from lack of sufficient food and drink the last days, or from the fight he had with Dusknoir before he got caught, but like hell will he get overpowered by two measly Sableye.

“They don’t have to,” another voice speaks up, a voice Grovyle knows all too well. Still, he jumps in surprise and turns in the direction of the speaker.

“Dusknoir,” he hisses. Fucking Ghost Types, always just sneaking around, completely silent. The bastard probably floated through some walls, as well, just to hide himself as long as possible. Dramatic bitch.

“Indeed, it is me,” Dusknoir answers, hate dripping from his every word. “You did not think I would let myself miss seeing you to the execution place, did you?”

“Well, I’d hoped you’d finally gotten the hang of morals, but you never fail to disappoint.” He spits the words out like the insult they are.

Dusknoir just lets out a short laugh at that. “Oh yes, because it is me who lacks morals. Obviously.”

“At least I don’t decide to have others executed!”

“Oh yes, you just want to erase everyone’s existence! That is so much more morale!” Dusknoir shouts, and then takes a deep, audible breath. Grovyle uses the time productively to glare at him.

“I am really not in the mood for your recalcitrance, Grovyle.”

“Just in the mood for killing me, eh?” Grovyle throws back, and then, challenging, adds, “This might be the last time you can actually argue with me, don’t tell me you don’t want to treasure that.”

Dusknoir stares at him. “For the matter of the fact, I don’t. You are the most infuriating Pokémon I have ever met, and once you are dead, I will celebrate for a week.”

“Well, you’ll have to postpone your party, then. You really think I’ll just let myself be killed?”

“I think that you have no way to escape,” Dusknoir says, sounding very happy at that knowledge, “And I think that you know that, too.” And now, he is very obviously gleeful.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Grovyle huffs, trying to appear less worried than he actually is. Because… Yeah, Dusknoir’s right. He might be a bastard, but he’s a bastard who’s right. Grovyle does not have a way to escape. And he… he won’t give up. He can’t. But he also knows that things are looking very bleak for him right now.

“Now,” Dusknoir speaks up, in a supposedly mirthful voice, “Will you let yourself be shackled? Or will I have to fight you?”

“What do you think, smartass?”

“Wonderful! I was itching to beat you up anyways, you recalcitrant rebel.”

 

So maybe Grovyle should’ve just let himself be shackled and blindfolded. Sure, he could’ve done that. If he had, he wouldn’t be in so much pain right now. And, sure, in hindsight it might’ve been the better idea.

But Grovyle won’t give up, and just accepting to be shackled and brought to this place would go against everything he believes in.

He even tried to make a run for it when he was about to be led out on the execution pace! Nevermind that he couldn’t see where he was running! But yeah, obviously that didn’t work, and he now finds himself under so much rope, even breathing is hard. At least they took off the blindfold. Still, escape will be pretty much impossible, at least as long as these ropes remain where they are.

But as he was led here, he noticed the one thing which might, just maybe, be the way of escape he had been hoping for. Because, as strange as it seems, the ground on this execution place is not made of stone, as most other things are. No, beneath his feet, there is dirt. And sure, Grovyle doesn’t know how far down it goes, but he’d be willing to bet that it’s at least deep enough to allow him to use Dig.

Maybe, probably, the stockade was built around this place, he thinks. There was a small basin between the mountains, and someone took a look at it and went ‘Oh yeah, we could totally kill people here’. And then, they started digging into the mountains around the basin.

Or maybe not. He doesn’t know, and will probably never find out.

In any way, the ground here is made of pretty much diggable dirt, so he just needs to find a way to break free from his numerous bindings. Then, the one item he managed to hide from Dusknoir and his Sableye the entire time – a Luminous Orb – will create the distraction he needs. Once he’s used Dig, well, Dusknoir’s still not seen through that trick of his. He’ll probably think he ran away as quickly as he could – like that one time in the Crystal Cave, in the past. Seeing Dusknoir immediately try to ‘hurry’ after him had been fun, even if holding out on the ceiling, hoping that the other Pokémon would just leave already, had not been.

Still, all of this planning relies on him finding a way to escape these damn bindings. And he’s not… closer to a solution to that particular problem than he was half an hour ago.

Thinking about it, it’s really strange – he was brought here, bound to a pole with what feels like kilometres of rope, and after that… The Sableye and Dusknoir just left. Well, Dusknoir did tell him to “Enjoy your last few minutes,” before leaving, but still. Grovyle had counted on them wanting things to be over with as soon as possible, not… this.

The whole timeframe has been off, come to think of it. Instead of killing him when they had just arrived in the future, he’d been put in a cell – and alright, that he can understand. Dusknoir seemingly arrived a little later, and probably had to tell Primal Dialga that he’d succeeded. Or something. So Grovyle would’ve understood waiting a few hours. But days have passed, and now that he’s actually at the execution place, things still don’t proceed! What’s been keeping Dusknoir back?

Not that he isn’t unthankful for the time he’s been gifted. It meant that he could actually come up with a plan for escape, even if it’s kind-of a shabby one. A plan is better than no plan! And maybe if he’s left here a little longer, he can actually figure out a way to get these ropes off.

By now, he’s already tried wiggling to gain freedom, which changed nothing; and also moving his hands to use his claws and slowly cut himself free. That didn’t work either, because he actually needs to get them to move for that. Still… Still, he won’t give up. Surely, there must be a way.

Maybe his legs? Could he maybe manoeuvre them in such a way—

His newest idea is abandoned the moment he hears frantic shouting. The voice sounds young, as well as somewhat familiar… And very, very distraught. The reason becomes clearer once he starts making out words.

“-go of me! Let go! Darcy! Where’s Darcy?! Let go, please, just—”

The shouting continues in this manner, although it does become more aggressive—

“Let go of me, you absolute fucker! I’d kick you in the balls if I didn’t know you’re too much of a coward to have them—”

—but soon enough, the Pokémon shouting like this comes into view.

It’s a Piplup – and the next moment, Grovyle realizes why the voice sounded familiar. It’s not just a Piplup, it’s the Piplup he ran into two times in the past. She’s shackled and blindfolded, just like he was, and as he curiously watches on – not like he can do anything else – she’s led to the post to the left of his by three Sableye. And then, just as was previously done to him, they begin wrapping her in so many ropes, an Ariados would probably get jealous of the cocoon they create.

Once the Sableye finish binding her to the post, they continue to stand around awkwardly, because the Piplup curses on, blindfold still in place. She doesn’t see who she’s cursing out, but it apparently doesn’t stop her. Grovyle can respect that.

Finally, one Sableye elbows the other. That one looks deeply uncomfortable, but finally steps forward and actually climbs the ropes, to take the blindfold off. Once that’s done, the Piplup does not look in Grovyle’s direction. No, instead, she stares directly at the Sableye before her.

“I swear, I’m gonna rip your eyes out and sell them at the cheapest price—”

The Sableye scrambles off of the ropes and takes more than one step back, as the two others cackle.

“Just try, little birdie!” one cackling Sableye says, and the other cackling one adds, “Can’t rip anything out once you’re dead!”

“G-Guys…” the one who was threatened with eye-disembowelment says, “Let’s just rep-rep-rep-, let’s just rep-,re-, re-…“ The Sableye takes a deep breath, “Let’s just t-tell Master Dusknoir we’re finished, y-y-y-yeah?”

“Ugh, you’re a huge spoilsport,” one answers, but the second one, after sighing heavily, agrees, “Yeah, sure, sure.”

With that, the three of them turn around and quickly make their exit, leaving Grovyle and the Piplup behind.

“Yeah, just run away! Fucking cowards!” the Piplup shouts. The next moment, though, she seems to shrink into herself. She’s small, Grovyle notices. Of course she seems even more so, because he can currently only see her head. And judging by her voice, she’s pretty much still a child. So why is she here?

The Piplup, meanwhile, has still not caught on to his presence. For a moment, Grovyle ponders if he should even call attention to himself.

As far as she must be aware, he’s the evil Grovyle who stole the Time Gears, who knocked her out one time, who almost killed the Pokémon she tried to protect. Not a particularly positive image.

But that she’s been brought here, bound just as him; that she should, apparently, also be executed… Well. That might just make her more likely to consider him as not-an-enemy. And even if she does, well, he’ll have tried.

Besides, he tells himself, getting on her good side might also be useful for a possible escape – he does not know any attacks which can free him, but perhaps she does.

Sure, he knows that… If he would need to leave her behind, to make his escape, he’d do so. And still, if he can help someone who’s only crime was probably being at the wrong place at the wrong time, who, most likely, just saw Dusknoir do something unjust and was thrown into this future because of that, then he’s sure as hell gonna do so.

“So what did you do for Dusknoir to consider killing you a viable option?”

She immediately turns in his direction, at least as much as she can, and stares at him with wide eyes. “Grovyle?!”

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

“What are you doing here?!”

He stares at her. “Enjoying the view, what else? You don’t get executed every day, you know.”

For a moment, he thinks she’s gonna be horrified at the thought of execution, but instead, her eyes narrow. “Where are we?”

“The future,” he says, but she immediately shakes her head.

“I already figured that out. I meant like… here-here.”

“Ah,” Grovyle says, for a moment surprised by her actually-not-bad-question. Shouldn’t she be panicking? She sounds like a child, and she grew up in the peaceful past he’s trying to save. Shouldn’t she be a little more horrified at what the future looks like? Or that she’s gonna be executed? “It’s a stockade,” he finally says, “Pretty close to the remains of Temporal Tower.”

“Remains of Temporal Tower?” she echoes, her eyes narrowing even further.

“Indeed. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but whatever he told you, Dusknoir was lying to you all. The planet’s been paralysed for centuries.”

And with these words, she seems to grow even smaller. Only a quiet sound leaves her, but then, as if a flip had been changed, she puffs herself up – literally. He can see her feathers ruffle in every which direction.

“I mean… I knew he wasn’t being entirely honest, and he did just randomly decide to throw me into the future…”

That makes Grovyle remember, he tried to warn her ghost friend, didn’t he? Because obviously, Dusknoir gloated, and obviously, he told him that he’d found his ‘little helper’, and that all of them would find their end. Grovyle had just thought he’d meant the Duskull, and not the Piplup. She was truly the innocent one.

Thinking about that, what happened to the Duskull? The Piplup, obviously, got thrown into the future. But her friend has not made an appearance, yet, and a quick glance around tells Grovyle that there also isn’t a third post.

So either he escaped, or… No, he has no clue. Maybe the daft ghost finally got that Grovyle was trying to warn him. Or maybe Dusknoir actually thought that the Piplup was the ‘little helper’? But that makes absolutely no sense, and Dusknoir isn’t daft.

No. No, something else must be going on. The Piplup being so ready to accept that Grovyle actually isn’t her enemy is one very obvious sign of that, just as the great span of time Grovyle has had to wait, is. He just does not know what they mean, yet.

“So you don’t know why he threw you—”

“Obviously I don’t!” she hisses.

“Hey, how am I supposed to know?” Grovyle defends himself, and the effect is immediate – she slumps down as much as her bindings will allow her to.

“Sorry. I just… This is just too much.”

“Yeah, I get you, kid,” he says, and that’s apparently, the wrong thing to say.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Aren’t you a kid, though?”

“No! Well, I mean-, maybe-, it’s complicated! But just… don’t call me that. Piplup’s good enough, I guess.”

“Alright, then,” he easily agrees – he had not actually wanted to antagonize her or anything, “Piplup. Great to make your acquaintance. Let’s hope we’ll remain alive long enough to enjoy it.”

Her eyes grow wide. “You… you think Dusknoir actually wants to… kill us?”

“I am completely sure. I know him, and if that’s not enough: He’s also been gloating about it for the last days.”

There is a moment’s pause, and then, she simply says, “Shit.”

Grovyle nods sagely, fully agreeing. “Well put.”

“Uhm…” she starts, then looks at him as directly as she can manage. She has barely any neck to speak off, though, and thus not much moveability. “You… wouldn’t happen to know where Darcy is, would you?”

“Darcy?”

“Yeah, uhm, the Duskull! My friend. You met him already, he’s got a—”

“Blue eye,” Grovyle continues, realizing who she’s talking about. “Yeah, I remember. Hard to forget that.”

“So you know where he is?”

Grovyle shakes his head. “No, sorry. Was he thrown into the future with you?”

“I… think so. Dusknoir called him to the Dimensional Hole, like he did me, but if he threw him in, he did so after me.”

Grovyle hums. “Perhaps your friend escaped, then? There isn’t a third post for an execution, and Dusknoir also didn’t mention anything about him to me.” He also didn’t mention Piplup, there’s no use worrying her like this. Even if she doesn’t want to be called so, she’s still a kid.

“I… I really hope so,” she sighs, then attempts to look around. “Okay, different question, but you were like, really good at escaping in the past. Do you maybe have another escape plan?”

Should he… share it with her? But what if she is actually helping Dusknoir, trying to get Grovyle’s trust, to then tell Dusknoir whatever he told her? She did believe him awfully quickly.

… No, he tells himself. Trying to tell himself that there’s enemies everywhere will just make him paranoid. Or ‘even more paranoid’, as Celebi and… and Pearl would put it.

He doesn’t have to tell her the entire plan. But he can at least tell her that he has one.

“Somewhat. Once I’m out of these bindings, I have a way to escape, but…”

“But no way to get out of them, yet?”

“Exactly. You wouldn’t happen to know any attack which could help with that?”

She thinks. “I, uh… I don’t think so? You think Bubble Beam can get through these bindings?”

Grovyle sighs. “I doubt it. Anything else?”

“I mean, I know Peck. Maybe… Wait, lemme try!” And the next moment, she is throwing her head down, against the bindings, one, two, three times. Then, she pauses.

The ropes surrounding her… actually show some damage. They… they show damage! Grovyle cannot believe their luck. Sure, it isn’t a lot, but it works!

“You think you can get free?” he asks, not able to keep his excitement out of his voice.

“I can try!” Piplup says, the same excitement echoed in her words, and starts her pecking again. She’s about six pecks in when Grovyle can faintly hear footsteps.

“Piplup, stop!” he calls, and luckily, she does so immediately.

“What, why? I’m almost through one rope.”

That there are over a hundred left, neither of them dare to mention.

“I can hear the Sableye. More than four, at least.”

“Oh… oh no,” she says. “You think they just wanna check up on us, or something?”

Grovyle cannot keep his apprehension out of his voice, and can feel his eyes narrow as he looks towards the door. “I doubt it.”

And the next moment, he dares not say anything else, because multiple Sableye start filing in through the door. They appear to be six in total, and Grovyle actually thinks that it might just be all of them. He never learnt how many there are, exactly, but six is a number he always thought likely. For a moment, no one says a word – the Sableye just stare at their prisoners. Grovyle is about to insult them, because if they won’t start, he’s definitely not above doing it.

But then, to his growing dread, Dusknoir enters, his presence immediately changing the atmosphere. And somewhat by his side, but also a little behind is…

“Darcy!” Piplup shouts. Grovyle dares a quick glance at her and can see her wide, horrified eyes. So… that is definitely her friend, and not just another random Duskull with a blue eye. Well, more traitor than friend, he corrects himself.

At Piplup’s call of his name, the Duskull averts his eye, proving his guilt. If him appearing unbound by Dusknoir’s side had not already done so.

Grovyle cannot keep from scoffing. “So you were a dirty traitor all along, huh?”

He does not really feel betrayed – that would need him actually having believed the Duskull to be on his side, in the first place. No, obviously he was working for Dusknoir, probably trying to get Grovyle’s trust, in case Dusknoir’s plan at Crystal Cave didn’t succeed. Which fits Dusknoir’ style of schemes very well. So yeah, Grovyle doesn’t feel betrayed. But it still sucks.

At his words, the Duskull’s gaze immediately turns to look at him. He seems quite angry to be called out like that, but tough luck. That’s what he deserves. At least he doesn’t try to defend himself.

That role falls squarely on Dusknoir’s shoulders. He narrows his gaze in Grovyle’s direction. “I’d say he rather knew who was the right person to trust.” At this, he also looks at Piplup, for but a moment. Then, he stares at Grovyle again.

Grovyle is about to answer, not yet sure what he’s going to say, but the Piplup is quicker. She does not address Dusknoir, but instead the Duskull.

“Darcy! What’s going on?” Panic is clear in her voice. For not even a second, the Duskull looks at her, but then, he quickly averts his eye again. He does not answer.

“Darcy, please!” she then cries, and she’d probably say even more, if Dusknoir would let her.

But instead, he interrupts. “That’s quite enough of that. I hope you two had some fun, sharing your last moments alive.”

Grovyle forces himself to bark out a laugh. “You think you’ve won, Dusknoir?!”

“Indeed, I do.” Then, Dusknoir waves his hand. “But I tire of your ceaseless babbling. Sableye,” he calls to his underlings, who immediately ready themselves. For… what, Grovyle does not even want to think about.

Then, Dusknoir laughs. “It is quite ironic for you, Grovyle, is it not, to die next to—”

“Dusknoir,” the Duskull boldly interrupts him, for the first time speaking up. His voice is icy. “Do not bring this up.”

“Should Grovyle not know?” Dusknoir asks, a strange tone in his voice.

“He is about to die,” the Duskull drawls, “Let him do so as peacefully as possible. There is no need to antagonize him anymore.”

These words are… strange, but Grovyle has no chance to ponder on them, because obviously, the Piplup shouts once again. “Darcy, you can’t honestly be on his side! Come on, please, stop this charade! Please, Darcy, I beg you!” She’s sounding more and more distraught by the moment.

And once again, the Duskull refuses to look at her. Instead, he puts one of his hands against the upper part of his mask, where it remains, somewhat shielding him from their view. Coward. He’s a fucking coward, Grovyle realizes. He doesn’t want to face the people he’s lied to.

“Well. Count yourself lucky, Grovyle,” Dusknoir states, “That you may die ignorant.”

“Ignorant?” Grovyle repeats, feeling his eyebrows narrow on instinct. “What do you mean, ignorant?”

Dusknoir laughs. “You think I will tell you? No, not telling you is actually much more amusing than I would have guessed.”

Grovyle knows Dusknoir. He really does. Sure, there’s some things about him he doesn’t understand, but their dance of pursuer and persecute has been going on for what feels like an eternity. And so, he is completely aware that, even if he asks again, Dusknoir won’t tell.

However, he also knows that Dusknoir likes to monologue. And a monologue needs time. Time that Grovyle desperately needs, to figure something out. A plan to get away. A plan to survive this.

And Grovyle knows that he isn’t the best at manipulating. Hell, he knows that he’s pretty much shit at it. Pearl was, no, is, good at it, and even Celebi is more skilled than him. And the little Legendary just loves to annoy most people! So, no, Grovyle doesn’t know how to manipulate others. But he does know Dusknoir, and he knows exactly how to get him to monologue.

“You’re bluffing!” he cries, “You want me to be distraught, but don’t worry, I see through it!” Then he laughs, as if he means it. He hopes that no one heard the nervous undertone.

“Oh, keep telling yourself that, if it makes you happy, in your last seconds,” Dusknoir says, and for a moment, Grovyle fears that he actually did not get him to monologue. But then, he continues, “But you know the truth, deep down. There is something you desperately wish to know, something you just cannot grasp. Is it not eating you up?”

“You’re lying!” Grovyle prompts, once again, and Dusknoir is all too willing to continue.

“Am I? But is there not a certain question you want an answer to? Are you not… missing some—”

“Something is off,” the Duskull interrupts. That—

Just when Grovyle had Dusknoir monologuing!

Dusknoir immediately turns to him, ignoring Grovyle. That’s just so strange. What is his relationship with the Duskull, really? “Something is off?”

“I am not sure what,” the Duskull says, and after a short pause, continues, “But something is not right.”

Dusknoir stares at his companion, and for a few moments, everything is quiet. Piplup does not try to appeal to the Duskull, Dusknoir does not answer him, and Grovyle… well, he has nothing else to say to that traitor, anyways. Not even the Sableye say anything, but then, it is as if a strange spell was broken, and Dusknoir answers.

“The execution will still happen.” There is something like a warning undertone in his words. That’s… strange. And almost makes Grovyle believe that there could’ve been some dissent, previously.

“I know,” the Duskull immediately hisses, sounding very annoyed, “I am just making you aware that something is off.”

“As long as we do not know whatever you think is wrong, we cannot react to it.” Dusknoir sounds openly annoyed, now, and that makes the Duskull scoff in turn.

“Obviously.” He rolls his eye. “But I will still warn you, even if you treat me like Kassandra for it.”

“Kassandra?” Dusknoir asks, and Grovyle agrees, Kassandra? What is the Duskull talking about? Is there another Pokémon involved in this? Is the Piplup’s name Kassandra? But no, Dusknoir probably knows her name. Or does he?

“Is your name Kassandra?” Grovyle whispers to the Piplup. She scrunches her eyebrows. “No?” The answer sounds as clueless as Grovyle feels.

The Duskull, finally, just sighs. “Nevermind. A name from a story of the past.”

“Oh, you need to tell it!” a Sableye suddenly speaks up, turning away from Grovyle to look at the Duskull. A second one turns around, as well, to look at him. “Yeah, I wanna learn who Kassandra is!”

“Everyone, silence!” Dusknoir immediately calls them to order again, and just as quickly as they had turned around, the Sableye fall into their orderly line again. Well. Too bad, because this could’ve granted Grovyle more time.

Dusknoir looks at him once again, his arms behind his back. He feels fully in control of the situation, apparently. “In any way… Any last words, Grovyle?”

Grovyle is about to tell him just where, exactly, Dusknoir is supposed to stuff his last words, when the Piplup speaks up. “Hey, why don’t I get any last words?!”

… Is this really the thing to be worried about?

Dusknoir, Grovyle can see, tries very hard not to roll his eye. The Duskull averts his gaze, once again, staring instead at the ground. He might just be ashamed of his betrayal, Grovyle realizes. Tough luck, it doesn’t change shit.

“Please, be my guest,” Grovyle finally says, “You can have the last words if you want.”

It’s not like Grovyle actually plans on dying here, and even if he did… Last words don’t mean anything. Dusknoir won’t write them down, and cry over the mistake he made. The Sableye won’t suddenly decide that they don’t wanna be Dusknoir’s underlings anymore. The Duskull, as he has clearly proven, won’t change his mind because of them. So yeah. He doesn’t actually need any last words.

Piplup grants him a short smile. It looks awfully forced. Probably because it is.

“Thanks! Okay, so, last words, I’ve actually got some for Dusknoir and some for Darcy! So, there’s two for you, Dusknoir!” Her smile grows. “Fuck you!”

Dusknoir’s eye narrows, but he doesn’t react to her words. It’s… good last words, but obviously, Dusknoir’s mind won’t be changed.

“And some for you, Darcy!” Even though she still sounds upbeat – if very forced to pretend to be so – there is even more bitterness to be heard in her words. And then, her tone grows… warm. “I hope you’re happy…” And suddenly, the warmth is gone, replaced by an icy contempt which would make Grovyle shiver, if he could move even an inch. “And I hope you miss me every fucking day of your sorry life.”

That, finally, makes the Duskull stare directly at Piplup. He attempts to say something, but at first, only something resembling a croak leaves his throat. Skull? Ghost Types are so weird.

Then, he manages to speak up properly. “I… I… You…”

Well, maybe not properly, on second thought.

With a frustrated huff, the Duskull then turns around, baring his back to them. If Grovyle was free, that would be a perfect chance to attack. Unfortunately, he is not.

For a few moments, all of them seem to wait on him to say anything else, anything at all… But the Duskull doesn’t. What a—

“Fucking coward,” Piplup spits out, and yes. Exactly that.

“Well,” Dusknoir then speaks up, “Since we have this behind us now, Sableye—”

“Something is not right,” the Duskull interrupts, for the second time now. This time, Dusknoir seems quite angry at he looks at him.

“What is not right?”

“I am not sure!” the Duskull cries, turning around again. And then, adds, “But I feel like we should not proceed with all of this. Like there is… something off.”

Dusknoir’s eye narrows. “We have been over this. The execution will happen—”

“Yes, but it should not do so now!”

Dusknoir, for a few moments, remains silent, as well as completely still. Then, he looks towards the Sableye. “Artabasdos,” he calls, to one of them, “Lead Darcy back to his room.”

“What?! You cannot just—”

“I understand that you do not wish to take part in this,” Dusknoir says, sounding actually angry now, “But I will not have you try to stop what needs to happen. It is either them or me.”

The Duskull stares back at Dusknoir, contempt clear in his gaze. “And I already told you my decision about that. But it does not change anything about—”

“I will not argue with you about this,” Dusknoir interrupts him, “You can either return to your room on your own, or I will just knock you out and drag you there myself.”

The two ghosts stare at each other, and for a few seconds, maybe even a full minute, neither say a word, nor seem to move even an inch. And then, finally, the Duskull turns around with an audible huff, towards the direction of the exit.

“Suit yourself,” he scoffs, sounding very much annoyed “I hope you have fun killing them. Don’t approach me after.” And with these words, he floats towards the exit.

For a few moments, no one says anything, and then, one of the Sableye breaks out of the formation, to hurry after him. “Wait, Duskull, I need to lead you to your room!”

The Duskull does not stop moving. “I can find the way myself.”

“But Lord Dusknoir told me to take you there!”

“And I tell you that it is not necessary!”

“But I can’t just let you run around on your—”

Their voices get quieter as they leave the execution place and enter the corridor. Finally, they get too much out of reach to be heard anymore.

For a few moments, there is just silence, but then, Dusknoir, having stared towards the door previously, turns around to look at Grovyle again.

“Alright. Sableye, proceed.”

And suddenly, everything which happened before – the strange ease in which all of them talked, the way that, for a few moments, the possibility of Grovyle dying today seemed not real at all – falls away again. And Grovyle… feels fear. He can’t… he won’t give up.

He won’t give up, and he won’t allow Dusknoir to see him afraid. But… but he is. He is afraid. He doesn’t want to die. He knows that he might be lying to himself, when he reassures himself time and time again that he won’t die. And he’s afraid. He’s so very afraid.

The Sableye grow closer, happily showing off their claws, a few of them even cackling. They are enjoying it.

Grovyle doesn’t think he’s going to enjoy being clawed to death very much.

But then—

“Do they attack with their claws?” a quiet voice next to him asks. He stares at the Piplup. What…

“Yeah,” he answers, instead of asking a confused question.

“Then… then they might loosen our bindings!” she whisper-shouts, and it is as if scales fall away from Grovyle’s eyes, allowing him to see clearly once again. Yes. Yes! That’s it! That’s their way to get out of this!

“Let them loosen the ropes, and the moment I tell you to, jump at them and attack!” he whisper-shouts back. Her eyes widen, as understanding seems to dawn.

“Okay!” she whispers, a new resolve apparent.

And then, the Sableye grow even closer. Grovyle’s still afraid. He’s really, really fucking afraid. But as they start slashing away at him, he realizes that, really, they are hitting the bindings more than him! One slash manages to tear open a gash on the left side of his face, but the ropes seem to be much more damaged. Grovyle tries to wriggle, and they are almost about to give, he feels it!

Just a few more slashes… Just a little more, and then—

But suddenly, it becomes darker. It might seem like it is night every moment, in this future, but now, it becomes dark. It is an oppressive kind of darkness, and Grovyle’s field of view grows even smaller than it always is. What is happening?!

He isn’t the only one to notice that something is going on, because the Sableye halt in their attacks and start to look around. Even Dusknoir looks left and right, perhaps trying to find the source of whatever’s going on. No longer does he keep his hands behind his back, but no, they are on his sides, seemingly poised for any kind of attack.

This would be the chance to escape, Grovyle realizes, but as he tugs at his ropes, they are still too tight. Fuck. Fuck!

He wants to shout it, but then, the darkness seems to grow even more. Something is—

He recalls the Duskull’s words from previously. Something is off.

Yes. Yes, something is off. Grovyle just doesn’t know what it is. But the darkness grows even more oppressive, so much so that Grovyle can’t even properly make out where the execution place ends. Instead, it seems to go on indefinitely, the darkness reaching further forward. Even Dusknoir seems to become just a shape, the only thing to be clearly made out his eye.

Then, said eye seems to narrow in on something just between Grovyle and Piplup’s posts.

“You!” Dusknoir shouts.

Grovyle tries to look, but he cannot see what lies behind him, the ropes still restricting his movement too much. Whatever Dusknoir sees, is too far behind. Worse is that because of the years he has known Dusknoir, he can actually hear the fear beneath his words. Fear which Dusknoir has only shown on the fewest occasions. It makes Grovyle dread whatever Dusknoir just shouted at.

And then, from behind Grovyle, a voice speaks up. Grovyle hasn’t heard it before, but the way they talk makes Grovyle tense up on instinct.

“I must admit, I am almost insulted you started this… execution without me.” Each syllable of every word seems to be perfectly measured; planned and practiced to perfection. It sounds earnest at the same time as it sounds like anything but the truth. Grovyle feels an involuntary shudder run down his back.

The speaker continues, sounding as if they have nothing to fear. “But I should not expect anything else of you, should I, Dejan?” Grovyle’s brows scrunch up at the emphasised name at the end – who are they talking to? Who here is named Dejan? Could it be…

“What are you doing here, Darkrai?!” Dusknoir spits, taking on a fighting stance. The Sableye, having looked around in utter confusion before, mirror him. Grovyle does notice that some of them seem openly scared.

“Ah, you found out my name, did you not?” the speaker drawls, each syllable perfectly measured, the tone never rising overly much. The voice is not deep, like Dusknoir’s, but still… it feels threatening. And Grovyle is perfectly aware that he is completely defenceless to whoever is standing behind him. “Or perhaps, someone told you… Well, it does not matter. I know about his allegiance now.”

Grovyle can almost imagine the speaker flicking their hand to the side, in an arrogant, consciously trained way. He doesn’t even know if they have hands, of course, but… it feels fitting.

Then, they continue. “You did not make it easy for me to find you, I will admit… But finally, I did find myself here, at the right point in time. Obviously, I had quite some years to figure out where you went.” And then, there is a laugh. Grovyle shudders once again, because it’s the most joyless sound he’s ever heard.

He really doesn’t understand what’s going on right now. Doesn’t know who this ‘Darkrai’ is, doesn’t know what they plan to do. But with every inch of his body, he can feel that they are dangerous.

“What do you want?” Dusknoir demands, and even though he tries to make it sound like he has the upper hand, still, like he can make demands… Grovyle still hears the fear beneath his words. And in turn, he also fears whoever, whatever, is behind him. If only he could escape this bindings already!

“Did I not tell you, already?” Darkrai answers, “So many centuries ago. Ah, but for you, it was only a few weeks, was it not?” Once again, they laugh. Once again, there seems to be no positive emotion at all behind it. Then, their voice grows icy, as they calmly state, “I want a world of darkness.”

“You have it!” Dusknoir cries, almost-readying himself for an attack. He is… He is on the defensive, Grovyle realizes. Whoever this is, he dares not attack just yet. And if—

If this implication, that they want a dark future, and that Dusknoir insists that they have it… if that is the truth… Grovyle does not allow himself to draw a conclusion, yet. Because he knows that once he does, there’ll be way too many emotions to deal with, and just the fear he’s already feeling is enough.

“Ah, but there is a small issue, my dearest Dejan,” Darkrai says, and suddenly, with the way that Dusknoir jerks, Grovyle realizes that it must be his name. Dusknoir’s name, which not even Grovyle knows! So why does this… Darkrai?

“You see, this world has a mad beast on its top, parading as its ruler.”

“So what?!”

“So this dark world is a failure. It needs to be erased, and you, unfortunately, stand in the way of that.”

Suddenly, there is something like spheres of darkness, rushing past Grovyle. None of them seem to be directed at Dusknoir, but rather, the Sableye. Most of them are too late to react, and Grovyle can only watch in horror as those who were hit are seemingly enveloped by them. The next moment, the spheres disappear, and the Sableye who were hit fall to the ground.

They don’t attempt to stand up again.

Grovyle stares at them, for half a moment almost worried, but then, he sees a chest rise and sink. Knocked out by a single attack…?

And then, one of the Sableye cries out, in sheer horror—

But as Grovyle stares at it, it is still unconscious. Another cries out, but it, too, stays unconscious. What… what is going on?!

“You—” Dusknoir starts to say, but Darkrai interrupts him, still remaining behind Grovyle.

“Oh, don’t get angry. They are just experiencing the worst nightmares of their lives,” the Pokémon says, because no human could attack like that, nonchalance clear in their voice. They make it seem like they do not care at all about this, and somehow, Grovyle believes that this, at least, is the truth. “They will wake again… most likely.”

Grovyle feels his eyes widen at the implication.

Besides Dusknoir, only one Sableye remained standing. It looks between its fallen companions in obvious shock, and then, takes a few careful steps back, until it is half-shielded by Dusknoir. And Dusknoir… lets it.

Finally, finally, Grovyle pulls together all of his resolve. Just because he’s afraid doesn’t mean that he’ll just freeze, or that he’ll allow whatever’s going on to just continue.

“Show yourself!” he shouts.

The answer is quick, and sounds almost like a parent scolding their child. “Do stay out of this, Grovyle.”

“Not if you—”

“I can knock you out just as easily as I did dear Dejan’s underlings. Do not force me to do so.”

For a few moments, Grovyle thinks of responding, of telling Darkrai what, exactly, he thinks of that…

But Grovyle’s not dumb. Sure, sometimes he’s a little brash, he knows that. And sometimes, he doesn’t think his actions through fully. But almost everyone’s like that. But unlike almost everyone, Grovyle also knows when it’s better to keep his mouth shut. And so, as much as he hates it, he does just that.

Well, he does it after grumbling, “But only because you asked so politely.”

For a few seconds, there is silence, and Grovyle thinks that, maybe, he went to far. Maybe the Pokémon will make true on their threat.

“Now… There is actually a reason as to why I am here,” Darkrai explains, when it must become clear that Grovyle has heeded his advice. Or threat, actually. He continues, “Because believe me, I did not miss your company.”

“Then why are you here?!” Dusknoir moves from his defensive stance into an aggressive one.

He really, really wishes he could do the same. But instead, he’s bound to this fucking post, with no chance to get free, and a demented Pokémon behind him.

Darkrai makes a humming noise, and then explains. “There are two Pokémon I am looking for, one of which you are currently trying to have killed. Although I was sure that useless, traitorous slave would be here too. Nevermind that. Once I find him, I will kill him personally.” And does Grovyle hear the slightest bit of… mirth in these words? He feels sorry for whoever this Darkrai might be looking for. “But still, for the other one, unfortunately, I disagree with your course of action.”

Dusknoir’s eye seems to widen. And then, narrow. “So you want to free them?”

“Both which are bound here, yes. You see, they are the best chance at stopping this dark future from coming into existence; and that is a course of action I agree with. If you are hiding the other one in some cell, still… Well. Do be assured that he will get what he deserves for betraying me.”

Grovyle feels the confusion within him grow. Did the Pokémon not explicitly say it wants a world of darkness? And, sure, Primal Dialga sucks, but how else would one create a dark future?

And moreover, even if this Darkrai might be here to help him and Piplup escape – and it is progressively looking to be so – he knows he can’t trust them. He can’t trust them at all.

And that isn’t even touching on whatever… servant? slave? they keep mentioning. Whoever they are, Grovyle feels a pang of sympathy for them. Darkrai seems to be really cross with them, huh? Then, he recalls that they seemingly worked together with Darkrai at some point, and that sympathy disappears as quickly as it came.

“I won’t let them escape, just because you might want them to,” Dusknoir hisses, his stance becoming even more aggressive. Even more of an unspoken challenge.

“Oh, but I was not asking if you would allow me to,” Darkrai explains, still sounding completely sure of themselves. “Do tell me, Dejan, have you ever watched someone waste away in an endless nightmare? It is really quite tragic.” They make their voice sound sweetly concerned, but the falseness within it is obvious to everyone.

“You see,” Darkrai explains further, when Dusknoir, for once, doesn’t say anything, “They won’t wake, no matter what you do, if I just will it to be so. You might try giving them a Chesto Berry, or maybe dousing them with icy water. Or perhaps, once you are desperate enough, you will try to slap them or something similar… But they won’t wake. Instead, they will remain dreaming of their worst fears. Some might last days, some might even last weeks.” He laughs, and if Grovyle thought that the previous laughs were bad… This one is worse. Because in this one, he can hear actual joy. “But in the end, caught in their nightmares until the end, they will miserably waste away.”

Dusknoir remains motionless for a few moments, and then, in a quick movement, his eye moves between his fallen underlings. Then, immediately, he looks back to where Darkrai must be standing. “You… You monster!”

“I assure you, I am not,” Darkrai immediately hisses in answer, and there is an underlying emotion in these words that Grovyle won’t even start to unpack. Then, they continue, “Now, if I free these two, will you swear that you will let them escape your stockade unharmed?”

Even if the entire conversation might have led up to that, Grovyle still can’t truly comprehend it. This… This Pokémon wants to free him and Piplup? Will even threaten Dusknoir with the lives of his subordinates? Something is off, as the Duskull so aptly put it.

Dusknoir’s eye, however, narrows, and for a moment, Grovyle thinks he is about to attack. Obviously, he won’t accept this. He’s wanted to kill Grovyle for years, there’s no way he’s just gonna let him escape.

But then, Dusknoir’s posture changes, to something like defeat, and he answers, “Only if you swear that you will wake up my Sableye. And not harm anyone else.”

“Oh, of course. I thought that part of the arrangement went without saying…” Darkrai answers, a mocking tone in his voice. Grovyle somehow doubts that they really intended to do so, if not asked explicitly. “But if you oh-so-much want to hear it, then yes, I promise to wake them up. And unless some tries to harm me first, I will not attack again.”

Dusknoir remains quiet for a while, and Grovyle thinks he might have almost hoped that Darkrai would also promise not to harm anyone, period. Which he didn’t, once again proving to Grovyle that their… ‘saviour?’ is really not up to anything good.

Finally, Dusknoir speaks up. “…Alright. Then… Then I swear that I will let them escape the stockade.”

“You and whoever else might want to stop them.”

Dusknoir seems to grow angry at that – making Grovyle realize that, obviously, he wanted to send someone else after them! He has at least one more Sableye for the job, and probably some other Pokémon available, as well.

“That was not part of the agreement—”

“I do not care, Dejan, about what was explicitly said. You know how I meant my words, I know how I meant them.” He almost spits these words out, and Grovyle really, really wants to get away from here. Get away from this place, and this Pokémon. Dusknoir’s fucked up, sure. But Dusknoir’s a kind of fucked up he knows and understands. This unknown Pokémon? Absolutely not.

So yeah, he wants to get away.

Darkrai, meanwhile, continues. “But still, you try to trick me? Perhaps only half of your Sableye should wake, then, because you did not explicitly say the number I should wake up. Or maybe, I should put you to sleep and wake just them up, since you did not clarify—”

“Alright!” Dusknoir actually shouts, “Alright.” And now, he sounds almost defeated. Grovyle is not sure if he’s just acting like it, but… it sounds pretty real. “I swear that neither I, nor anyone else who might wish to do so on my command, will stop them from escaping the stockade.”

“Wonderful!” Darkrai says, and a noise follows his words – perhaps a single clap of hands? Grovyle doesn’t even know if the Pokémon has them, but… well, it sounded like it. “Then I will open their bindings.” And then, the weirdest thing happens – the darkness seems to move. Not by much, and not in a way that Grovyle can actually tell that it happened, but… but it feels like it did. Like this circle of darkness changed its position, in the slightest way. Could it be that it is tied to Darkrai?

Said Pokémon suddenly speaks up. “And also… Grovyle, Piplup, do not dare to turn around once I have done so.”

… What?

“But… why?” Piplup hesitantly asks. Grovyle would’ve asked the same a few seconds later, if she hadn’t spoken up first.

“Yes, why?” Dusknoir speaks up from where he still floats, the Sableye still hidden behind him.

And suddenly, it seems as if the darkness, inexplicably, grows even closer. Their voice once again like a glacier, they say, “That is none of your concern. Do not turn around, or deal with the consequences.”

Well… Now that is just suspicious. Grovyle doesn’t really plan on turning around, but he also doesn’t plan on doing just whatever Darkrai wants of him. Their help in getting them free is appreciated, of course… But his gut-feeling, and also just his people-skills, tell him that their sudden saviour is dangerous. Extremely dangerous. Moreover, they must be wanting something else out of this. All of their actions speak toward them being someone who collects the debts they forcefully create.

And so, a plan takes form in Grovyle’s mind. The only question is just, should he include Piplup in it?

… Yes, he decides. She still doesn’t deserve any of this, she came up with a great plan which probably would’ve worked if not for their sudden ‘guest’, and no one besides Dusknoir should remain alone with Darkrai.

And then, Grovyle hears a noise from behind his post. It sounds like ropes being… opened? He’s not sure whether the Pokémon is actually working on opening them, or just has a quick way to slash through them, but in a matter of maybe half a minute, all of the ropes around him give way and with a few more wiggles on his part, he’s free. He’s actually free!

He turns to look towards Piplup, but that is when Darkrai speaks up again. “Do not dare look in this direction.”

Ah. Seems like they’ve moved behind her post, already. For now, Grovyle will humour them. But only for now.

While he listens to Piplup’s ropes being opened, he uses the time constructively to glare at Dusknoir. Who glares right back, of course. Probably angry Grovyle’s still alive, hah! He’d really like to rub it under his non-existent nose. But not right now. Right now, he’s got better things to do. Like continuing to listen to the Pokémon opening Piplup’s bindings.

And then, that moment comes – he can clearly hear her fall? jump? to the ground. Oh yeah, she’s pretty short. The ropes probably held her up in the air.

“Alright. Now, I want you two—” Darkrai starts, and that is exactly the moment when Grovyle grabs his Luminous Orb and throws it on the ground. The moment before it shatters, he has already moved to the side and grabbed Piplup.

This is also when he catches the faintest glimpse of this ominous Darkrai. They’re taller than Grovyle, he notices first, and seem to almost merge with the darkness surrounding them, except for the white… hair?

And that’s as far as Grovyle gets, until he finally gets a hold of Piplup. She lets out a surprised squeak, but Grovyle ignores it, in favour of using Dig the moment light envelops the entire place. He can hear someone shriek – either the Sableye or this Darkrai – but pays it no mind.

The next moment, he finds himself beneath the earth, Piplup next to him. He puts his hand on her mouth, on instinct – if he didn’t, she’d probably say something, and that would immediately ruin his illusion of having run away.

Instead, he starts counting his own heartbeats.

One, two, three, the Luminous Orb’s effect is probably starting to wear off now.

Four, five, his heartbeat is starting to slow down.

Six, seven, eight, normal light (or lack thereof) has probably returned to the execution place.

Nine, ten, he takes a deep, slow breath.

Eleven, next to him, Piplup also takes a deep breath.

Twelve, he takes off his hand, assured she won’t speak.

Above, he can faintly hear Dusknoir’s voice, as if through water – just senseless sounds, no actual words to be made out.

Then, Darkrai seems to speak, their words just as indistinguishable as Dusknoir’s.

Once again, Dusknoir, then, Darkrai.

Dusknoir suddenly starts getting louder, while Darkrai seems to move – Grovyle doesn’t hear any steps, but the direction from which the voice comes seems to change.

Dusknoir’s voice gets even louder, Darkrai’s gets further away, and then, Dusknoir shouts, so loud that Grovyle can make out what he’s saying, even through the earth.

“YOU PROMISED, YOU TRAITOR!”

And then, the unmistakable sounds of a fight.

Well… Seems like things aren’t going well up there. Thinking about it, how long will they have to remain under the earth? They won’t be able to stay here for too long, because, well, they do need to breath. They aren’t ghosts, who can just ignore basic needs like that.

The hole Grovyle managed to dig isn’t particularly big, either. If it was just him, based on experience, he’d give it about half an hour, maybe even three quarters, until he runs out of air. But together with Piplup? She’s small, sure. But they probably won’t last more than 20 minutes.

She still hasn’t made a noise, although Grovyle can clearly hear her heartbeat. Even as minutes pass, and they remain underground, she doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t ask a question, doesn’t panic. Maybe he didn’t give her enough credit, before. She’s turning out to be less of a traumatised little kid than he’d have guessed her to be.

Or maybe that’s the new trauma setting in.

Grovyle believes that it might have been around ten minutes when she first moves. Trying to arrange herself into a more comfortable position, probably. Not that it’s really possible, here. But it does make him think about, perhaps, going above ground again. His legs are about to fall asleep, and running with legs like that would be almost impossible. Especially if he lets it get any worse.

Besides, it has been rather… quiet, the last minutes. The fight didn’t last long, and after that, he could still hear Dusknoir’s voice, almost-shouting. But he’s fallen quiet by now. The only thing worrying him is that this Darkrai might not have gotten around to waking the Sableye yet, because Grovyle would’ve noticed multiple feet walking.

Or perhaps… based on Dusknoir’s shout, maybe he didn’t actually do that. It would make sense, wouldn’t it?

Grovyle decides to wait just a little longer.

After approximately five minutes, however, he notices that the air is starting to… be not just stale, but… funny. Funny is the best way to put it. Which means that they really, really need to get out, and they need to get out, now.

He grabs Piplup – he tries to go for one of her arms, and he’s pretty sure he also managed to hit it, and gives it a squeeze. Talking is still too dangerous, so he hopes that this will be enough for her to understand that they’ll go above again.

He doesn’t give her the chance to react, anyways. Instead, he finally digs up again, and then…

Then, he’s above ground. Next to him, Piplup emerges.

… Well. Seems like Darkrai actually did break his part of the arrangement. Grovyle’s not surprised. It also perfectly explains Dusknoir’s shout.

Grovyle’s just lucky that no one seems to be here, right now, except for the sleeping Sableye. Five Sableye, Grovyle notices, even when previously it was four. So there was definitely a fight. At least that means that there’ll only be one more Sableye around, possibly.

And Dusknoir and Darkrai, of course, neither of which would probably be good company. One is openly out to kill Grovyle, and the other… is not trustworthy. At all.

Next to him, Piplup splutters a little bit. “Ugh, I got dirt in my beak…”

As stupid as it is, it makes Grovyle snort. It’s just… really not what he expected her first words out to be, and also exactly what he though they might be. It was one of his first lessons with using Dig, and for a moment, he fondly remembers that, whenever he would include Pearl in it, she’d manage to get dirt in her mouth.

Then, that happy memory is followed by the realization that he still doesn’t know what happened to her, and the fear that he might never know. Trying to get the thought out of his head, he looks around. Seems like Dusknoir left the double door open, so that’s probably the best way to escape.

“We need to get out of here, fast,” he says, turning around to look at Piplup.

“You know a way?”

“Yeah. I once got my hands on a map of the stockade, and I’ve also been here once already. And I got out again, so I’d count it as a win.” Once again, he looks around. No one here, except for the sleeping Sableye. That can change soon, though. “We’ll have to be careful. I don’t know how many more underlings Dusknoir might have—”

“And he’s probably also in a very bad mood,” she adds, which is exactly what Grovyle was going to say next. Weird.

Anyways, he nods. “Yeah. So follow me, and be quiet.”

“Okay,” she says, and then, a little quieter, adds, “And… thanks. For not leaving me out there alone.”

For a moment, Grovyle almost gets uncomfortable at that. Because, well, he thought about it. And even now, he’s on his toes around her. Because… Sure, she seems trustworthy. But seeming trustworthy and being trustworthy are two very different things. Still, she’s had enough chances to stab him in the back, and until now, hasn’t done so. So either, she was biding her time until he was torn to pieces by the Sableye, or she’s actually just a little Piplup who got thrown into the future by Dusknoir. For some reason.

… Yeah, well, scrap that. Obviously, more must be going on if Dusknoir forced her into the future. But Dusknoir did seem very willing to have her killed.

Unlike the Duskull, now that Grovyle has the time to think about it—

No. Once again, scrap that. He doesn’t have the time right now. He and Piplup have to escape, first.

And that, they do. Carefully, they make their way to the open double doors of the execution place, and after a last careful glance around, Grovyle enters the corridor, Piplup right behind him. Once his feet touch stones once again, he is careful to silence his steps.

Which is pointless, anyways, because Piplup can’t seem to do the same. Her feet make very audible flopping sounds, every time she puts them on the ground. Grovyle stares at her, and at least she seems very apologetic.

“Sorry,” she whispers, “I don’t know how to stop them from doing… that.”

Grovyle stops walking, and thinks. She’s right, she probably can’t stop that – her flippers are just not made to be quiet on stone. But even if almost all the Sableye are knocked out, Dusknoir’s most definitely still around. Perhaps the Duskull, too, and Grovyle doesn’t know what he would do. Would he help Dusknoir? Help them? It’s too dangerous a wager to take, even if Grovyle was willing to. Which he’s not. As far as he’s concerned, the Duskull has made his decision.

Even worse, Darkrai might also be around. It sounded like he and Dusknoir fought, and Dusknoir might be gone because Darkrai tried to run or something, and he pursued, but… Way too dangerous. All of this is way too dangerous.

Three Pokémon possibly running around – no, he realizes, a Sableye might still be awake. Four Pokémon, even, none of which Grovyle has any clue to their position.

Fuck.

Alright. There must be a way. Piplup can’t silence her steps, and she can’t fly, either. Even if she is a bird. Which sucks. Well… that leaves one possible solution.

“You need to trust me, okay?” he whispers.

Piplup stares at him, and then whispers back, “I know? Like… I won’t get out of here on my own.”

“No, I meant…” Grovyle sighs, careful to keep his voice quiet. “I’ll have to carry you, so we won’t be heard.”

Her eyes widen at that. “Carry me?!” Even if he can hear the indignation in her voice, at least she keeps her words quiet.

“I don’t like it either, okay?”

For a few moments, it seems like she’s about to say something, but then, she visibly deflates. “Yeah. Alright. Okay. I guess. On your back or…?”

“Back,” he says, and then squats down in front of her. “You can get up on your own, or—”

“I’m not an invalid, you know?” she says, as she starts climbing up his back.

Finally, Grovyle can feel her settle into the proper position to be Tepig-back carried. It’s… awkward to say the least, but at least she isn’t too heavy. Moreover, she’s got a surprisingly good grasp on his shoulders, so that he has at least one hand free at all times.

And so, they start their escape properly. Before them, the corridor splits in three directions – left, right, and just straight on. Now, Grovyle recalls that if he goes straight, takes some left turns and a right turn, he’ll come out the main entrance of the stockade, which lies directly in a crevice. That would be the most obvious way of escape. However, he also knows that Dusknoir knows that Grovyle will try to escape there, and…

Well. Maybe Dusknoir’s following Darkrai. Maybe they are battling it out somewhere. Maybe the Duskull got knocked out by one of them. But he doesn’t know if they are or not, and so, there’s the chance that Dusknoir’s trying to catch Grovyle by the exit. And then, Grovyle would just run straight into the other’s arms.

But luckily for him, he knows where the second exit lies. To reach it, they’ll have to take the left door, and that, Grovyle does. He carefully turns down its handle, and exhales in relief when the door isn’t locked. And even better, there’s no one in the corridor. Grovyle ignores the two doors, one on each wall, and instead follows the corridor until it splits. Then, he takes the left turn. Before him, another corridor stretches, four doors, all on his righthand side.

And—

And the sixth Sableye, lying just between the second and third door. Just like the ones before before, it seems to be having a nightmare. That… was this Darkrai’s escape route, too? Because if it was, then Dusknoir might just be there, right now, instead of the main entrance.

Shit. That’s… No. No, Grovyle has to believe that Dusknoir’s somewhere else.

But in case he’s not, Grovyle carefully sneaks up to the first door, which he’s actually after. And then, he puts his ear against it, even more carefully. On his back, Piplup mirrors him, although she can’t quite reach the door.

There doesn’t seem to be any noise, indicating either Dusknoir or Darkrai or the Duskull behind it. At least he knows that Dialga won’t be there. Small mercies.

… Huh. They all start with a ‘D’. Weird. But ultimately, a useless realization.

Still, just because there’s no noise doesn’t mean that no one’s there. Dusknoir and the Duskull, at least, are ghost. They don’t breathe, don’t have a heartbeat, and don’t have feet, so there’s no steps either. Darkrai… Grovyle is honestly not sure. He didn’t see enough of the other to safely say whether he was a Ghost Type. He could also be a Dark Type, based solely on his appearance. And the attack… yeah, no clue.

So… Maybe Grovyle should take the proper exit instead, even though he doesn’t quite know how he should open it.

But then, luck is suddenly on his side, for one moment. Because from further away – and not behind the door – he hears Dusknoir’s voice.

“SHOW YOURSELF, YOU COWARD!” he screams, and although the corridors echo horribly, Grovyle realizes that he’s, well, not behind this door. He’s not behind this door!

Using the chance of Dusknoir’s voice still echoing, Grovyle throws open the door. Well, not actually. He opens it quickly, to cover any noise it might make.

Behind, what seems to be a workroom lies. There are two desks, on each wall, and on them lay strewn miscellaneous things. Multiple chests are also placed against the walls, and a single chair, before one of the desks. On that, some paper lies, as well as an inkwell, a pen. A few rocks, and wood, and what Grovyle thinks might be tools to work on them.

On the other desk, tools of most definitely more sinister character lie – Grovyle’s pretty sure that most of those are torture tools.

Detestable.

It doesn’t surprise him that Dusknoir has those – because this must be Dusknoir’s room, he’s the fucking leader of this wretched place – it just surprises him that he didn’t use them on Grovyle during his stay. Well. No use in questioning that, right now. Instead, he stares at the opposite wall from the door they just entered, where another door lies.

This is where they will escape through, because behind it lies a path straight out of the stockade, ending in a far better hidden part of the small mountain range this building lies in. Carefully, Grovyle pulls the door behind them closed, although he does not close it fully, for fear of any sounds that might make. It just needs to look closed during a first glance.

Then, he sneaks over to the other side, and almost reverently, lays his hand on the handle. Praying to whoever might want to hear it, presses down.

It doesn’t give.

“Shit,” he whispers, and although he really wants to shout it out loud, he just whispers once again, “Shit.”

“Is it… locked?” Piplup asks from on his back, and slowly, he nods.

“Yeah. Of fucking course it is.”

“Shit,” she agrees, and then says, “Put me down, please?”

“Don’t move around too much, though,” Grovyle warns, but silently thankful for the chance to get her weight of his back. She really isn’t too heavy, but he himself isn’t one for heavy lifting. He’s light on his feet, and great at everything that includes running and jumping, but… well, lifting weights is not his thing.

Then, he sets her on the ground, where she remains motionless. Except for her head, of course, she looks around quite a lot.

Grovyle, meanwhile, walks through the room. The door has a keyhole, so that means that there must be a key, somewhere. Dusknoir didn’t appear to be carrying anything like that with him when he saw him on the execution place, so… Maybe it’s around here?

“Do you know any attacks which could open—”

“Obviously not, or I would have tried!” he hisses, and then sighs. “Sorry… I’m just…”

“No, it’s alright,” she hurries to say, “It was a dumb question.” She looks around, maybe also looking for a key. Grovyle continues sneaking through the room, carefully opening chest after chest, looking on and beneath each desk.

Obviously, nothing turns up, because he can’t just be lucky twice in a row. At least he finds the reason Dusknoir probably didn’t do any shit with his torture tools, because most seem to be old. Like rust-is-eating-actual-holes-through-them old. Maybe they were already in the stockade, and he wanted to gather some ideas on what to create?

The key, of course, isn’t there either.

Piplup asking a question makes Grovyle turn his head in her direction. “Is there something like… Anything to pick a lock around?”

Grovyle carefully looks around.

“I… Maybe?” he answers. He can’t see anything with this single glance, but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s somewhat chaotic, here. “Do you know how to do that?” Because Grovyle… unfortunately doesn’t. It’s not as if there were ever many doors around to practice on, and most of the time, Pearl dealt with those. She knew… She knows how to do it.

“Uh…” Piplup says, and then, in a not very hope-inspiring voice, says, “Maybe? I have an idea about how it would probably work, I think I’d need a tool like… uh… this?” She mimes something going in a straight line, and then bending upwards at a straight angle.

Alright, so she might know something, then, because Grovyle recalls Pearl also using a tool which looked like this.

"I'll look," he says, and does just that. The writing utensils seem pretty useless, but the carving tools… There’s one or two which might be usable, if he bends them. Or maybe she can use them like this?

He picks them up, in any way, and moves over to her. “Look useful?”

“Uh… Give me the thin one,” she requests, and so, Grovyle hands it to her. For what feels like way too much time – Dusknoir’s out there! Darkrai is maybe out there! Duskull could also be out there! – she just inspects it, from every which direction. Grovyle knows that it wasn’t actually that long, not even half a minute, but… He’s stressed, okay.

Then, finally, she bends downwards, puts the tool on the ground, steps on it, and like this, tries to… bend it. For the first few seconds, nothing seems to happen, except for her hissing as if she’s in pain or annoyed, but then, it actually seems to give. She continues doing whatever it is she’s doing, and by the end, she’s bent it maybe about half of a right angle. Which is pretty far off from what she wanted, but better than what it was before.

She then looks towards the door and the keyhole, and that’s when Grovyle notices that, well, she’s definitely too small to reach it.

“Lift me up, please?” she asks, because she must have also noticed. With a sigh, Grovyle does so, picking her up beneath her shoulders and holding her in front of the door.

“Can you put your hands lower?” she asks, “I can’t move my arms properly like this.”

“Yeah, sure.” This… is even more awkward than what he had to do before. Still, he puts his arms lower around her… waist?, and then, she tries to open the door. It sounds awfully noisy, with how silent the entire stockade seems to be, but… yeah, it’s probably the only way they can get away. Dusknoir’s voice was probably in the direction of the main entry, so that’s out. Grovyle also doesn’t think that there’s any more exits, so… Yeah.

Piplup works on the lock for what feels like an eternity, but then, Grovyle almost doesn’t believe it, there’s an audible ‘click’. Putting her on the ground once again, he tries the door for the second time, and it—

It opens! He wants to whoop in joy, or maybe even jump, but obviously holds back. Piplup lets out a quiet snort, which might’ve been a happy laugh if the circumstances allowed it.

“Amazing!” Grovyle tells her, and then, wasting no more time, he picks her up around the waist again, and like this, he carries her through the following corridor, until they reach the outside. And although that means freedom…

Stepping outside isn’t a very happy occasion. The world’s still unmoving, and Grovyle never wanted to have to see this, ever again. In his arms, he can feel Piplup stiffen, and since the ground’s mostly made of dirt again, and because they’ve left the stockade behind, he sets her down.

Then, he looks at her. She seems horrified, judging by her wide eyes. Which really isn’t a surprise. Grovyle would love to give her the time to process all this, but they need to keep moving. Sooner or later, someone will search for them. And right now, they’d be found immediately.

He’s about to urge her to move on, but she speaks up first.

“Is this… really the future?”

Grovyle sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Or it will be, if nothing’s changed.”

She stares at him, the confusion apparent in her eyes. “Changed?”

“It’s… I’ll explain later. I promise. But first, we need to get away from here.”

For a few moments, it seems as if she’s about to argue it, but then she nods. “Yeah… yeah, of course!” The brave face she tries to put on is clearly just a farce. But Grovyle doesn’t call her out on it, an instead starts to lead her away from the stockade.

And together, they flee.

 

They come to a halt maybe half an hour later, in front of Chasm Cave. Inside, a Mystery Dungeon lies, Grovyle knows. And he’s admittedly… not yet feeling up to traversing it. He could do it right now, sure. But he was also pretty much trashed by Dusknoir, then got his face slashed open by the Sableye, and after that had to flee the stockade. Not the best conditions for dungeon crawling.

So… he just needs a short rest. A quarter of an hour, maybe. Half an hour at most. Just a short pause.

Besides, Piplup seems to be in even worse shape. She wasn’t attacked by Dusknoir, as far as Grovyle’s aware. Still, the Sableye managed to hit her in the face probably two times, judging by the scabbed-over lines on both her cheeks. And also, he reminds himself once again, she’s a kid. One from the past.

It’s too bad that neither of them seem to have any healing items with them. Grovyle used up the one orb he could hide to escape. Although… Maybe, Piplup has something. She might’ve been able to hide something between her feathers.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any bandages or stuff to treat wounds with, would you?” he cautiously asks, and then adds, “I really don’t want us getting any infections.”

Her face falls.

“I… No, I don’t. Sorry.” She takes a big sigh and looks towards the cave mouth, its grey rocks stretching high into the sky. They remind Grovyle of pillars, if the pillars had formed naturally and then been destroyed. So actually just rocks, to be honest.

Finally, Piplup continues. “It’s… normally, Darcy would carry our bag, but obviously…”

And then, she lets herself fall to the ground, where she tucks up her… knees closer to her body. If she had longer legs (or any legs at all…) it would not look quite so strange.

For a few moments, she remains motionless, just tacking deep breaths. Grovyle eases himself down next to her, pretty much able to guess what’s on her mind.

“Obviously,” she tries again, and then, she laughs. Soon enough, the laughs morph into sobs, just as Grovyle had feared it might.

He’s not sure what to do, now. He can’t imagine what it’d feel like, to be betrayed by a supposed friend like that. And he also isn’t good at comforting others, even if he understands their situation. He doesn’t even know what she’d want him to do or say! Does she want someone to tell her that her friend always sucked? Someone to just pat her shoulder? Some ideas on what to do if they ever run into him again? He doesn’t know anything about her, except that she’s a kid from the past. And that she didn’t deserve any of the shit she’s been put through.

He carefully lays his hand on her shoulder. If she doesn’t want that touch, she can easily shrug it off.

She doesn’t do so, though. Instead, she covers her eyes with the fronts of her flippers, and just sobs some more. This is… really awkward. Grovyle would love to punch the Duskull in the face, if they ever meet again. No, scrap that. He’s absolutely going to do it, and he’s not going to hesitate.

“I just-, just-“, she tries to explain, but doesn’t get far. She also takes her hands off her eyes and tries to wipe the tears away, but new ones immediately replace them.

“It’s alright,” Grovyle tells her, still not quite sure on what he should do. “To be distraught, I mean. Like, if I was suddenly thrown into this fucked future, and if my best friend turned out to be a monumental asshole, I’d probably cry too.” He wouldn’t, because he just doesn’t cry, but he also knows that pointing that out isn’t important right now.

“Add to that,” she starts, interrupts herself with a sob and sniff, and then continues, “That the guy who almost killed Pokémon you care really fucking much about, suddenly turns out to be the only one who’s helping you.” She laughs, a broken sound, which quickly becomes a sob again.

“Yeah…” Grovyle awkwardly answers, “I guess that’s… really weird.”

“Why’d you do it?” She asks, and when his gaze seems to tell her that he doesn’t quite understand, she explains. “Like… attacking Uxie, Mesprit and Azelf. Stealing the Time Gears. Cause I’m-,” she sniffs again and moves her hand across her beak as if it was a nose. Then, she continues, “I’m pretty sure now that you didn’t do that just to be an asshole.”

“Just?” Grovyle repeats, disbelieving, “I didn’t do any of that to be an asshole!”

“Well, threatening to kill others is pretty assholey behaviour, though.” She sniffs, once again, although she’s crying way less by now. “And I’m also sure you might’ve actually gone through with it, which is… worse.”

Grovyle grimaces. Yeah, okay, he gets her. It’s just that… if those sacrifices have to be made to stop this future from ever existing, then he’ll make them. Even now.

“Yeah, alright,” he finally agrees out loud, “You’re right. But if it helps you, I really wasn’t doing any of that because I enjoy it or anything.”

“So then why? Just give me a clear answer!” she finally demands, looking at him with her eyebrows angrily drawn down. With the tears still in her red-rimmed eyes, she just seems very, very sad.

Grovyle sighs, and then, realizing that she probably won’t move on until she knows, starts to explain. “It’s… the Time Gears can be used to stop Temporal Tower from collapsing. Which is what led to this future, by the way. Temporal Tower… fell.”

“Temporal Tower? You mentioned that before, and I, uh… I think that, based on its name, I might have an idea what it could be, but…” She interrupts herself with a nervous laugh. “What is it?”

Grovyle stares at her. Okay. Yeah. Past-Pokémon might not need that knowledge. It might be something everyone knows in this time, but Past-Pokémon tend to be ignorant, he’d noticed. Not maliciously so, just in a very naïve way. So he shouldn’t fault her for not knowing.

“You know about Dialga?” he finally asks, since that would probably be the best starting point.

“Yeah, obviously.”

Grovyle rolls his eyes. ‘Obviously’, she says, after not knowing about Temporal Tower.

“Alright,” he continues, anyways, “So it, or I guess it was ‘he’ in your time, so he’s got a tower, from where he exerts his control over time. Or had, actually. Sorry, I’m all over the place.” He takes a deep breath. “Storytelling isn’t really my forte,” he admits, and then tries to do it, anyways, “So, he had Temporal Tower, and that’s basically what kept time moving. But for some reason, it started collapsing in the time you came from, and that’s what paralysed our planet. Actually, if you stand up and look in that direction,” he points to roughly where the stockade lies, the view of which is currently hidden behind some cliffs, “You can see its remains.”

She follows the direction he points in with her eyes, but does not stand up to find a better vantage point. Instead, she asks, “It controlled time? But I thought that’s what the Time Gears are for?”

“Common misconception,” Grovyle explains. “They’re just more of a control tool, I think? And even though removing them stops time where they came from, that’s just specific to the place they belong to. Like, it won’t spread or something.”

“Oh… Okay. So Dusknoir lied about that, too?”

“I have no clue what he told you, but if it was anything along the lines of the planet being paralysed because Time Gears were removed, then yeah. That’s bullshit.”

She hums. “And why am I supposed to believe what you’re saying is true?”

Grovyle’s face scrunches. “You literally asked me about this stuff. What, you think this world looks like it’s functioning correctly?”

“I-, Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I just… I guess I wanna make sure I can… trust you.”

And then, Grovyle… understands. Or rather, he comprehends. He hasn’t been betrayed by a close friend, but he thinks it must hurt quite a lot. Must feel like, whatever they told you, it was untrue anyways. And must make you doubt whatever you’re being told, by anyone. You’ll think it might also be a lie. A betrayal like that will probably screw up someone’s ability to trust really, really much.

“No worries,” he assures her, “I think I mostly get it. But yeah, I initially went to the past to collect the Time Gears I need, go to the Hidden Land – that’s where Temporal Tower was, originally, but that was also screwed up when time stopped, don’t worry about it right now – and, well, stop that from ever happening. The Time Gears can restore Temporal Tower, at least that’s what I have to believe.”

“Okay. Okay, that sounds like it makes sense. But if you’re trying to stop all this from existing, doesn’t that mean that…” She trails off. “Let me… Okay, so just… Why was Dusknoir trying to have you killed, then? And… me?”

Grovyle sighs. “For you, I honestly have no clue. Maybe you saw him do something strange? But for me… He doesn’t want the future to change.”

“But… this world’s miserable!”

“Yeah. But there’s… Dialga’s not dead, in case you thought that. But also… there’s Primal Dialga. It’s like a changed form of Dialga. Entirely mad, and since it didn’t exist in the world of the past, it doesn’t want the future to change. Because then, it would stop existing.”

“And that’s important to Dusknoir because…?”

“Because he’s its henchman. Most important one, at that. So those two want this future to come into existence exactly as it is right now. Obviously, they don’t want me to change it.”

“Oh,” she simply breaths out, and then, she falls silent. Grovyle waits for any other questions, but it seems that, for the moment, they won’t come.

Then, when he’s about to say anything to break the silence, she speaks up. “We should probably continue, right? Like, even if the Sableye are still sleeping, someone’s probably searching for us.” The way she pronounces makes it clear that she thinks it might be any of their ghostly ‘friends’ (which now includes Darkrai, even if Grovyle’s still not sure on their typing).

Grovyle sighs. “You’re right, most likely.” Carefully, he stands up, finally taking his hand off her shoulder. Piplup also stands up, and seems to stretch her legs – not that she has a lot of those. It really makes Grovyle appreciate his own body more. He’d definitely get frustrated if he couldn’t do any of his usual jumping and running.

“There’s a Dungeon up ahead… Going through and not around would be much quicker.”

“Yeah, no worries. I’ve been exploring Dungeons for a living for… a while now.”

“Good. If you ever feel like it’s getting too much, though, speak up. I’d rather take a pause in the Dungeon than deal with a knocked out team member.”

“Team member?”

Grovyle stops for a moment, at that – the words had slipped out without thinking. It’s… His last team member was Pearl. Calling someone else so feels… wrong. Like he’s replacing her. Which he isn’t! He just has to travel with Piplup for now. But…

“Yeah,” he finally says, “I mean, I guess that, for now, we are.”

“I… yeah. Okay. Team members, for now.”

Grovyle doesn’t need to ask to know that she, too, is thinking that he’s a replacement.

 

It has to be said that Piplup actually proves herself a good fighter. She’s not incredibly strong or anything – Grovyle knew she wouldn’t be, she’s an unevolved kid – but she’s got a good eye for finding routes where they don’t run into too many Pokémon, and also for finding stairs. So that’s really great.

But unfortunately, none of that matters once they start running into Electric Types. Just a single attack from one will almost knock her out, and then Grovyle has to try his hardest to not let there be a second one. Which gets way harder when there’s also Flying Types he has to look out for.

For this dungeon, their typings really make things way harder than they should be.

So, yeah, it is difficult, and exhausting, and yeah, it takes more time than he thought it would… But they also find a good rhythm to work together quicker than Grovyle would’ve anticipated. It’s just… easy. Piplup’s weaker than him, sure, but she mostly makes up for it. With devious attacks, good planning, a good instinct with directions, and so on.

And then, finally, they reach the outside. The last floor of the Dungeon opens to a relatively small crevice, about four metres in width, six at most. However, what it lacks in width, it makes up in length, stretching on for about a gross of metres. Located pretty much in the middle is a waterfall, frozen in time. Which technically makes it a waterstand.

… At least that’s the bad pun Celebi would make, leaving Grovyle to groan and Pearl to snort. Nevermind that she’d already made it about a dozen times. She’d make it, without fail, whenever they’d encounter a waterfall.

He really hopes she’s safe. No. No, he knows she’s safe. She hasn’t let herself be caught in all the time he’s known her. So he just hopes she hasn’t had to move away from Dusk Forest.

But worrying doesn’t change anything. He can only concentrate on the here and now, and that includes him running away from the stockade together with Piplup. So finally, he makes his way up to the waterfall. Grovyle really isn’t bothered by the scene, because, well, it’s common. Piplup, however, stares at the water, and that horror he saw just after they left the stockade is once again clear in her eyes.

Being pulled into the future must be really hard for her. It already sucks for him, and he was born here. But for her, who only saw green grass and blue skies and gently lapping waves, it must be a waking nightmare.

Which makes him recall Darkrai. The Sableye seemed to have nightmares, after that strange attack. He still has no clue how that worked… But maybe Celebi might know something. Grovyle really hates not knowing anything about another possible enemy.

Sure, Darkrai technically freed them. But Grovyle doesn’t lie to himself. That Pokémon was not doing so out of the grace of their heart.

He can just hope that they are not being followed, and if Darkrai’s previous appearance was any clue, they might be accompanied by darkness. Which Grovyle would notice. So he really hopes that darkness wasn’t a conscious choice, and also because of the implication of a Pokémon having the ability to control darkness is very, very scary.

Piplup, meanwhile, has walked up to the waterfall, and curiously (or maybe, actually horrified) touched it. It does not give, because, well, its frozen solid. Just not cold.

“If you’re thirsty,” Grovyle speaks up, realizing that this might be an actual concern, “We’ll have to keep moving. So close to Temporal Tower, basically nothing moves.”

She looks at him. “So there’s places where things… still move?”

Grovyle thinks about things, and then sits down, patting the open space next to himself. They need to pause, anyways. Even he is feeling exhausted, so she must be worse off already.

They won’t be able to pause for more than twenty minutes, though. But he can use the time and answer some more questions.

Hesitantly, Piplup sits down next to him.

“Kinda. Not like in your time, but in some places, not everything was frozen.” He sighs. “No one who saw the initial collapse is still around, of course, except for Primal Dialga. Or at least I never met anyone. So knowing why and how is pretty much impossible. But some things just seem to have evaded the initial freezing of time.” He shrugs.

Piplup turns her head to stare at the water and then, she sighs. “It’s sad, though. Like… water, just being still. The entire world just being still, I guess.”

To that, Grovyle can’t really say anything, so instead, he just nods and hums.

They sit quietly for a few minutes, but before they can truly start to relax, Grovyle stands up again. “We should move on.”

Piplup looks at him questioningly. “Already?”

He nods. “Yeah. Sure, the Sableye got knocked out, but I don’t trust Dusknoir not to have anyone else to send after us. And unfortunately, there’s just two paths leading away from the stockade, so he’ll figure out where we went to soon enough. I’d like to get somewhere where more paths open up sooner rather than later, so he won’t find us as easily.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” She stands up and wipes off some little stones which held on to spaces between her feathers. “Where are we going, by the way? Like, you’ve got a destination in mind, right?”

Does he trust her enough already to disclose where Celebi resides? No, he realizes. Not yet.

He finally answers. “… Ask me again once we’ve bonded some more.”

And at that, Piplup barks out a surprised laugh. Then, a mischievous glint in her eyes, she asks, “But what if I’m just waiting for you to bond with me to betray—”

She breaks off, and Grovyle’s pretty sure he knows exactly where her thoughts went.

Well. He’s decided. That Duskull is not just getting a punch in the face, but also a kick in the ribs. Or… whatever ghosts like him have instead.

She puts her flippers around her body, as if attempting to hug herself. Then, she speaks up again, although all the previous mirth is gone from her voice. “I just… I just don’t get it. And you don’t have to listen to me or anything, I think I just… gotta accept it.”

“Hey, no worries,” Grovyle hurries to reassure her. Even distraught as she is, she’s still giving it her all. No way will he fault her for sometimes showing that she’s not entirely okay. “You can call him all the names you want, I won’t tell.”

“He’d actually really hate that,” she says, and laughs a laugh which seems on the verge of being a sob. Then, she adds, “That asshole.”

Grovyle snorts. “Exactly. A backstabbing asshole.”

She forces out another laugh, and then sniffs. “But I really don’t get it. Sure, he’s… he’s grumpy and mean, you know, but he’s always disliked Dusknoir. Maybe even hated him, I think. So I just don’t understand why he’d… work together with him.”

Grovyle sighs. “I mean, I don’t have the answer. I don’t know him at all.”

“You don’t say,” she says, sounding entirely unimpressed.

“I wasn’t finished!” Grovyle defends himself, and then breaths out deeply. He’s only talking based on experiences he’s made with other Pokémon, but… “But I think there’s some Pokémon who are just… cowards. Because I get what you said – he didn’t seem to quite agree with Dusknoir on having us executed. But he also didn’t actually speak up against it, or try to help us. So I think he might’ve just been a coward. Dusknoir offered him a way to get out of being executed, but he’d have to betray you for that. And Duskull decided to accept that price.”

Her eyes had grown wide at his try at an explanation, but she didn’t interrupt. And even now, she doesn’t try to speak up. Instead, she stares at the waterfall once again. Grovyle lets her, looking in the direction of Temporal Tower’s remains, himself.

For quite a while, neither of them say anything.

 And then, for quite a while, neither of them says anything else.

Finally, Grovyle hears some movement from Grovyle, and looks at her again. She’s looking back expectantly. “Wanna move on?”

“Sure,” he easily agrees, having wanted to do so five minutes ago. “You sure you’ve gathered enough strength?”

“Probably. And even if not, sitting here, not doing anything but moping, also won’t help.” She stares straight ahead.

“True,” Grovyle agrees, and steps up to her side. “But you did fight quite well, back in Chasm Cave. Just so you know.”

“Compliments already? You really want to get that bonding over with as quickly as possible.” She starts walking onwards, towards the Dark Hill, the next Mystery Dungeon they must face.

Grovyle snorts, and acts like he doesn’t notice her rubbing her teary eyes. “Sure,” he quips, “Tomorrow, we’ll be sharing our deepest fears, definitely.”

Now it’s her who snorts. “Yeah. Sure. But if you want a compliment, too, you’re actually not too bad for an almost-murderer.”

Grovyle laughs.

 

The Dark Hill is… a challenge, to put it mildly. A different one than Chasm Cave was, and Grovyle’s not sure which he hates more.

There are almost only Ghost Types residing here, and those bastards have the ability to just float through walls. Which makes not being hit by them very, very hard. And hitting them back even harder.

The only chance at evading those surprise attacks is staying in the middle of rooms, but to find stairs, they’ll have to traverse the small hallways, so there really is no way to remain safe.

For about half a second, Grovyle imagines how much easier this would be if the Duskull had not betrayed them. The one time he fought him, he actually proved himself as surprisingly crafty. He’d surely be able to take care of other ghosts easily.

 But unfortunately, he’s a dirty little backstabber.

And so, instead, Grovyle and Piplup press on, just the two of them. A few times, Grovyle fears that Piplup might get knocked out, but once again, what she doesn’t have in strength, she makes up in intelligence. She knows when to attack, and when to step back. Except for a few cases, where she proves to be a little… brash.

Besides that, she really has an uncanny ability of quickly navigating a Dungeon. In the last one, it seemed like mostly good guesses, but by now, it’s happened so often that it really starts to… yeah, uncanny’s the only word for it.

“Practice,” she answers when he carefully mentions it, “I think. And there’s also little tells, most of the time.”

“Little tells?”

“Mmh,” she says, nodding. “Like… the walls might look off, or the feral Pokémon behave the slightest bit different. I don’t even notice it consciously, most of the time. But just… everything working together. It’s pretty obvious.”

“That’s… debatable,” Grovyle says, trying to silence the yearning flaring up in his chest. Pearl… She also seemed to have a much easier time navigating Dungeons than others. And obviously, he knows that Piplup isn’t who his heart is calling for. But with each and every new similarity he discovers, he’s reminded of Pearl, and…

It’s hard. It’s really, really hard.

“And also…” Piplup suddenly says, and then, she sighs heavily. “Darcy also had this uncanny ability to find his way through Dungeons. A lot of it was just him sticking his face through walls, but he was pretty good at interpreting the movements of feral Pokémon, and sometimes he’d just… explain what he saw.”

“That sounds like an interesting way to tell about the layout of a Dungeon,” Grovyle says, careful not to let any emotion, good or bad, get in his words. There’s no reason to craft a positive impression, no matter how small, of the Duskull in his mind.

“Yeah. I think he might’ve been a feral Pokémon once, but he’s denied it. Not that his words mean anything, huh?” She forces out a laugh.

Grovyle doesn’t join in, because they’re both aware that nothing about this all is funny. Piplup might just need to pretend that it is to continue on. He’s proven right by her next words.

“Anyways, let’s just… continue.” She stares at one of the hallway splitting from the room. “I think we should go right.”

And so, they do that, and surprisingly unsurprisingly, the stairs are at the room at the end of that hallway. Uncanny. But kinda cool.

 

They make it out of the Dungeon… worse for wear. Yeah, they’re still walking, and yeah, neither of them died, and sure, there aren’t any life threatening wounds, but… That’s pretty much as far as positives go.

Grovyle can feel his whole body ache. He’s got some new bruises, as well as some more open wounds to boot. Although most have already scabbed over. His steps have become way too uncoordinated, and it takes more energy than it should to not drag them over the ground. He can feel his shoulders hunching forwards any time he stops paying attention to them, and his gaze constantly wanders to the ground, his head feeling too heavy for his neck.

From the looks of it, Piplup isn’t of much better.

But at least they’ve arrived at the top of the Dark Hill. And even though that’s its official name (or as official as any name can be), Grovyle would really love to meet whoever came up with it. ‘Hill’ his ass. This is a mountain.

Maybe not the tallest mountain to ever exist, but definitely a mountain. This is even proven by the little dots of light they can see from here – they seem absolutely tiny. Because they are on a mountain, and the little lights are not.

Most of the lights stem from the stockade, of course. Now that he thinks about it, it’s kinda weird that it’s lit so well, isn’t it? Dusknoir can definitely see in the dark, and so can the Sableye.

But… perhaps even Ghost and Dark Types want to see some light, when the world is utter and endless darkness. It was his luck, in any way, because if the corridors of the stockade had not been lit by the occasional torch, finding their way out would’ve been much harder.

Around the stockade, more spread out dots of light can be seen, which makes sense – not everyone lives in the stockade. But all those little dots are Pokémon loyal to Primal Dialga, or at least to Dusknoir. All of those little dots could mean Pokémon trying to capture Piplup and him. And some of the lights even seem to be moving – not by much, because they are so far away that it really doesn’t show, but still. The slightest movement can be detected.

They really shouldn’t dawdle, but…

“Do you think we can… take a pause?” Piplup carefully asks, and to that, Grovyle can only sigh in defeat. He doesn’t want to pause. In fact, he knows that they really shouldn’t do so. Every minute they remain too long in one place is one minute a pursuer could use to catch up to them.

But he also knows that they can’t continue like this. Piplup’s been stumbling over her own feet for hours now, and while Grovyle is sure that he could force his own body to press on… There’s just going to be more Mystery Dungeons, and more dangerous Pokémon. He’s tired, and when he’s tired, he gets careless.

“Not long,” he finally says, “Maybe an hour. Nothing more.”

“That’s alright,” Piplup readily agrees. “An hour is… an hour is still time to rest.”

“Yeah,” Grovyle says, and looks around. The cliff’s allowing them to see the stockade, but staying close to it is too dangerous. On the other side, however, the last few boulders before the very top of the Dark Hill are situated, and on them, some long-dead trees still hold on to them. Grovyle supposes that, centuries ago, there was probably actual earth there, as indicated by some roots which seem to be higher above the ground than they should be. Now, just rocks are left.

But climbing up a little should yield a nice place to rest. He can even see one place between a big rock and a tree where they should be somewhat hidden from view. Looking to his side to ensure Piplup is watching him, he starts climbing up to that part. Piplup follows, and if Grovyle has to pull her over the last, big rock, neither mention it.

Once both of them have made their way up, Grovyle walks the last steps to the tree and, leaning his back against its trunk, lets himself slide down. Piplup follows a few steps, and even if she seem a little unsure at first, finally she sits down next to him. As she does, she lets out a heavy sigh. Grovyle understands.

For the first few minutes, they sit in silence, but then, Piplup speaks up.

“If I was gonna close my eyes for a bit,” she starts, “Would you promise not to kill me? Or leave me behind?”

“I wouldn’t kill you!” he cries, offended, and that actually makes her laugh.

“A recent development, I’m pretty sure.”

Grovyle stares at the rocks in front of him, suddenly feeling… uncomfortable. He… he knew that he would be misunderstood, before he even came to the past. He is misunderstood in the future, he knew he would be misunderstood in the past. So… it wasn’t a surprise. It wasn’t even a let-down, because for that, he would’ve needed to hope that anyone would believe that he’s doing the right thing.

No one did, surprisingly. Although he also never explained.

Pearl… had wanted to try negotiation, first. She’d made that clear, before they’d travelled back in time. Grovyle had always been against it, because he knew they’d just be cast as the villains, anyway. And if they’d tried to negotiate first, the Time Gear’s guardians would’ve been warned in advance.

So once he’d arrived in the past, and been alone, he’d decided to just do it his way. Pearl, wherever she was, could do what she thought was best. Just like that saying goes, better to ask for forgiveness and all that.

In the end, it didn’t matter, anyway. Dusknoir managed to get the support of the Pokémon of the past (and Grovyle has to wonder if he might’ve also gotten it, if Pearl’s idea would’ve been better, once again), and Grovyle had lost all the progress he’d made, as well as Pearl. He was back at square one. Actually, no, it was square minus one. Or something. His metaphors were never good.

So… To get to the point, he knows that he seemed the villain. He understands where Piplup’s doubts are coming from. But to be seen as nothing more than a would-be murderer still hurts.

“I’m… I know how it might’ve seemed in the past,” he finally speaks up, “But I don’t just go around killing others. Or wanting to kill others”

“Try telling that to any of the Lake Guardians.”

Grovyle grimaces. “I… I’d do whatever is necessary to stop this future from ever happening.”

“Except just tell Uxie and the others why you need the Time Gears, apparently.”

“They wouldn’t have believed me!” Grovyle cries, recognizing an argument he had with Pearl many times. Its just unfortunate that Piplup now seems to want to have it, as well.

Piplup stays silent for a few seconds, and then, she sighs. “I actually think they would have. Uxie’s the Pokémon of knowledge, you know? I’m pretty sure he might even know of the Time Gears ability in stopping Temporal Tower from collapsing, unless you lied about that.”

Grovyle huffs and crosses his arms, somewhat happy that Piplup can’t currently see his face. He’s pouting, and he knows it, but his face also doesn’t want to do stop it. “I didn’t.”

“Sorry, yeah, I… didn’t mean to imply that you did. Just said it for good measure.” He doesn’t know what, exactly, she’s doing, but he can hear her readjust her position. Then, she continues, “And Mesprit can feel others’ emotions. If you’d told her why you need the Time Gear, and not just attacked her, she’d have known that you said the truth.”

“She attacked first, though.”

Piplup breaths out in a way which could be a very tired laugh. “She tends to do that, yeah.”

“The way you speak of them… You seem to know them quite well.”

“Not… well,” she says, “But I’ve gotten to know them somewhat. Darcy’s actually the one who knows all of them, although he never admitted to that, except for Uxie.”

“He sounds like he didn’t say a lot of things.”

“Yeah… he didn’t,” she says, defeat now clear in her voice. Her previous anger seems to have disappeared, just as the sadness and the forced tries at happiness. “But I just never thought he’d…”

She breaks off, and Grovyle hears a sniff before she continues. “It doesn’t matter, anyways. It’s happened. I can’t turn back time.” Then, she adds, “Or is that possible? You’re the expert on it.”

“It’s… complicated,” he admits, after thinking about it a little and not knowing a clear answer, “There’s only few Pokémon who can traverse time, but then it’s more like… Like, if we went back in time to when we were bound to our posts, and tried to free ourselves, therefore stopping this Darkrai guy from doing so, stuff would get… weird. Or something. It’ll have consequences, definitely.”

Like having to disappear.

“Makes sense. Besides, it’s not like I could change what he does, could I? He’s his own Pokémon.” Then, she falls silent, and Grovyle doesn’t dare say anything. It’s honestly astounding how close they’ve grown in the matter of, what, a day? Not more than a day and half a night, most definitely. But there’s still the awkwardness of not really knowing the other. They might click easily, but at the same time, he really has no clue who Piplup truly is.

Forcing a conversation about a friend of hers he barely knows anything about seems like an intrusion. He doesn’t know how the Duskull behaved around her, or the other Pokémon she must know. He doesn’t know if he’d always planned to betray her, or if he was, like he previously wagered, just a coward.

“I think I’ll… close my eyes a little,” Piplup speaks up, and Grovyle can actually hear her getting more sleepy.

“I’ll keep watch,” he assures her, sure that it won’t be much of an assurance.

“Thanks,” she answers, and then, Grovyle hears a yawn. He remains as he is, even when her breaths seem to even out, showing that she must have fallen asleep.

She’s just a little kid who was dragged into this, he reminds himself. It’s… tragic, honestly. She’s pulled into this horrible world, almost killed, her best friend betrays her, and then she’s forced to flee with Grovyle, someone who might’ve previously killed her, at least from her point of view. He really doesn’t envy her position.

He remains sitting, and allows his consciousness to drift off, to a degree. It’s not sleeping, but he also isn’t fully awake. His eyes are open but not focused, he hears everything going on around him (which is nothing), and time seems to pass more quickly than it normally would. Moreover, his body can relax, for the first time in days. Well, okay, it can’t. He’s still constantly prepared to jump up and defend himself. But it’s definitely more relaxed than when he was in his cell.

After about an hour, he thinks about waking Piplup, but…

He knows that they need to move on. He knows! But she’s sleeping peacefully right now. She doesn’t have to think about the things going on, doesn’t have to recall what’s happened. She doesn’t have to feel the various bruises and cuts she’s accumulated.

And so, Grovyle decides that… one more hour. He can allow them one more hour.

 

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, which is really, really bad. Because it tells him that he actually fell asleep, which he didn’t want to do. Like. At all. It seems he must’ve underestimated how exhausted he actually was. Which is also really bad. A miscalculation like that could cost him his life.

Even worse is that he knows exactly what woke him from his involuntary sleep. A noise.

When he was in the past, noises, at first, put him on edge. Constantly. Each shifting leaf, each displaced stone, each creaking tree, they’d make him instantly jump up and try to find whoever made this noise. He needed weeks to fully make his own body realize that the past is just… noisy. That, in the past, leaves just shift sometimes. Stones just move sometimes. And even trees just creak sometimes.

It's different from what he grew up with. Because in the future, noises only happen when there’s someone creating them. There’s no wind to move things. No slow processes of moving things.

And so, the moment he hears a noise, while he’s once again in the future, he silently jumps up and looks around, fully alert. He can’t see anything, and for half a second, he thinks of assuring himself that he must’ve imagined it. But then, he hears another small noise, from the direction he and Piplup initially came from. The Dungeon’s exit.

Shit. Shit! They should’ve moved on already, but instead, he fell asleep! What a rookie mistake!

Should he remain quiet where he is, hoping that whoever made the noise will overlook them? Or confront them right now, to find out who they are and what they want?

It’s… both options are shitty. If it’s Dusknoir, he’ll definitely find them. They are somewhat hidden, sure. But somewhat isn’t enough. So option one would be out. But confronting him will just bring on a fight, and Grovyle’s not sure he’d win that. In fact, he’s fearing that he wouldn’t. So… also a bad idea.

But he’s gotta do something, and Piplup’s still asleep, leaning against the tree! And so, he makes his decision.

“Show yourself!” Grovyle shouts in the direction of the noise.

No one shows themselves, but Piplup tears open her eyes. Which Grovyle was hoping to achieve.

“W-what?” she cries, confused, but Grovyle can’t give her the chance to properly orient herself.

“Get behind me!” he instructs, and when Piplup just blinks at him, confused, he shouts, “Now!”

That makes her scramble up, and she moves to his side. Not behind, the silly little kid, but at least further away from the source of the noise.

Then, everything falls silent once more. But Grovyle knows that he didn’t mishear. There was a noise, and that means that there was someone making that noise. The feral Pokémon don’t tend to leave the relative safety of their Dungeons, so that leaves… a very bad implication.

But at least he knows that Dusknoir would’ve shown himself by now, or attacked. A small reprieve.

“I know you’re there!” he shouts, once more, “So either show yourself, or I’ll fucking kill you!”

There’s another noise, something like an aborted attempt to say something. Then, a stone rolling down the boulders, from somewhere very, very close by.

And finally, from between the stones, on the same height as Grovyle and Piplup are, a figure emerges. Their hands are raised in the universal sign of ‘I’m unarmed, don’t attack me’.

But as he recognizes him, Grovyle goes into a fighting stance. Piplup, however, makes a little step forward and gasps.

“Darcy?!”

Notes:

[No, I will not go into any detail as to where Grovyle hid the Luminous Orb.]

[Also, feel like I shared the comment my beta made at the part where Grovyle hisses, "Dusknoir". To which my beta said, "I imagine he says that like “DINKELBERG”]

Hope you enjoyed the change of narrator for this chapter! If you didn't, don't worry, things will go back to how they usually are with the next chapter. Whenever that might be posted. I'll obviously keep writing/editing it, but with how busy I currently are, my free time is sparse. July would be a good bet, though.

I also hope you enjoyed what I did with canon. I've been adding stuff on top of it for many chapters now, tweaking and changing stuff here and there; but it's always... let's just say an adventure. I don't want to change too much of the original story, but I want to add to it, but I also don't know what I want to change and what I want to leave as it is, and so on. This has become very apparent to myself with these chapters in the future, because if we're honest, the world of the future was never developed too much. Just enough for the game, but if you write any kind of story which has just parts set there, your personal ideas will influence things.
So, yeah, hope you enjoyed it though.

That having been said, I just want to tell all of you thank you, from the depths of my heart, once again. I absolutely love the amazing reception this fic has been getting - the kudos and bookmarks, the comments on every chapter, the multiple fanarts I've gotten... Just all of it, it means the world to me. I just can't really comprehend that there's such amazing people out there, and that they are reading my story, and being amazing about it. So... yeah. Thank you, so very, very much.

Chapter 21: ALL THE SAME

Summary:

Last Chapter: We saw things through Grovyle’s eyes, who was captured and about to be killed by Dusknoir, alongside a Piplup from the past. However, a strange Pokémon called Darkrai stopped the proceedings at first, and Grovyle and the Piplup then managed to flee together. The Piplup’s friend, however, seemingly betrayed her for the relative safety working together with Dusknoir afforded him. Grovyle and Piplup fled a long way, and after pausing for a while were seemingly approached by the traitor/friend.

Notes:

There’s been more amazing fanarts! Honestly y'all my heart cannot take this much longer (jk it can I love each and everyone of you)

tang/calci drew more amazing fanart, which you can find here (and while you're at it, look at their entire blog too it's wonderful): https://tangsartblog.tumblr.com/post/686798143466209280/a-veil-of-lies-chapter-1-neferirkarekakai

Stefanmar, who you can on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stefanmar/pseuds/Stefanmar drew three amazing fanarts, which you can find here: https://www.deviantart.com/stefanmar/art/Fanart-for-A-Veil-of-Lies-919081641 and here: https://www.deviantart.com/stefanmar/art/Dusknoir-s-Lil-Strategoi-919707966 and also here: https://www.deviantart.com/stefanmar/art/Staredown-920147504

And last, but never least, PrimalDialga (and what an amazing name - they previously went by Oliver, under which they already made some fanarts) who you can find on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimalDialga/pseuds/PrimalDialga drew multiple pieces, which you can find here: https://i.redd.it/k8jzqo1shv891.png and here: https://imgur.com/a/RgTpHKu and here: https://i.redd.it/ihmq9611cme91.png and also here: https://i.redd.it/ku85notauke91.png

And that concludes that, I think...? If I missed anyone, please scream!

So things could have gone better, most definitely. In fact, there are only few ways in which they could have gone worse. But, well. Better to concentrate on what did not go wrong, for his peace of mind.

For example, Pearl is still alive. That is a good thing. Probably. Grovyle is alive, too. Which might be good, but could also be bad. What is definitely good is that all the annoying Sableye are all asleep, at the moment. That is very good, in fact.

Less good is Dusknoir running around, with murderous intent, shouting for Darkrai to show himself. That is actually… pretty bad. Not good is also that he does not know where Pearl and Grovyle fled to, and that he also lost their trust. Now that he thinks about it, that is actually extremely bad. Even worse might be ‘Darcy’ disappearing just shortly before Darkrai showed up. Because he is no idiot, he knows that this is conspicuous, at least. Suspicious, more likely.

Does he think that some will draw the connection that they are one and the same? No, obviously not. Does he think that someone will draw a connection? Absolutely.

So… yes, things could have gone better.

In fact, maybe if they had, he would not currently be cramped beneath a bed. Waiting, biding his time, planning…

… Alright. Simply hiding, to be entirely honest.

And all thanks to his most recent plans. Suboptimal plans, he can admit in the privacy of his mind.

The dust beneath this bed makes him constantly feel as if he needs to sneeze, but he also knows that he cannot  allow himself to do so. Even then, holding it in is annoying. Necessary, but annoying.

For a moment, he wonders how dust even got here – should it not also have stopped moving when the planet was paralysed? Was it already beneath the bed when it did, and no one bothered to wipe it away in the decades since? But then Darkrai decides that, no, he is decidedly not going to think about this, right now. Or ever.

He really has bigger problems to face. Like—

 “Where are you hiding?!”

—that. Dusknoir is in a rather bad mood, to put it lightly, and judging by his occasional screams, getting closer to Darkrai’s hiding place.

…He just hopes he was shouting for the Darkrai he just faced, and not the ‘Darcy’ he really should not know the location of. Then again, at one point, he will definitely start searching for that one, too. But Darkrai still believes that his reaction to ‘Darcy’ will be more positive, and so, he has assumed his illusion once again.

Having to think of himself as two people is exhausting.

Even more exhausting, however, is this entire situation; and Darkrai is not panicking only because… well, he is actually not sure. Maybe he got rid of any nervous energy while finally showing himself in his truest form, again. Maybe it is because of the nightmares he can faintly feel calling out to him. They were more audible when he did not have this illusion active, but still, the Sableye are close enough as well as enough in number to still be a presence in his mind.

It could be either of those reasons, or maybe neither.

And then, Darkrai sees a shadow on the ground just in front of the door. A very faint shadow, and to anyone who cannot see in the dark, it would not be visible. But well, he is not anyone. Its size, as well as the fact that it came straight through the door, and also that he cannot hear anything, tells him that this is Dusknoir.

Dusknoir, who just came into his room, without saying anything. Who is keeping quiet, still.

Darkrai’s heart picks up its beat, until he is starting to fear that it might so loud it might be heard. And then, Dusknoir will draw the conclusion that Darkrai is hiding in here, and not Darcy. Because Darkrai has a heartbeat, and breathes, and can bleed. But Darcy is a ghost, who really has no business having a heart in the first place.

Even worse, the faster his heart beats, the louder his breathing becomes. And breath is something that Darcy should definitely not have.

Damage control. He needs to do damage control.

Stopping himself from taking a too-loud breath, he instead, carefully, quietly, asks, “Dusknoir?”

Because Darcy would take that chance. Probably.

Not that it necessarily matters to stay entirely in character, right now. He just needs to drown out the noise his heart is making, to draw Dusknoir’s attention elsewhere.

And the next moment, there is a red eye, staring directly at him, because Dusknoir took no time to pause before looking under the bed. It is… awkward. Darkrai just stares back, for a few moments, and then he allows himself to seemingly collapse in relief.

“So it truly is you,” he whispers, really hating how he must play this weak little ghost again. If he had known how difficult it would be to get back into role after finally allowing himself to be… well, himself, again, he would… have probably ended up doing the same, anyways. It might not have been his best plan – in fact, it was probably anything but – but at least Pearl is still alive. That is what matters.

Unfortunately, Dusknoir’s mien does not change. Which… might be bad.

Darkrai’s plan was not good. He knows that, he can admit it to himself. He knows that everything must seem to imply that he called Darkrai to attack Dusknoir and his minions. He knows that, well, technically, he did. But he also knows that he at least tried to paint it like Darkrai and Darcy are very much not in cahoots, anymore.

If Dusknoir did not buy it, then, well, Darkrai is really in a lot of trouble. And then, he really should start panicking. Not that he ever panics. But he should definitely start trying to flee. It is just unfortunate for him that the only exit of this stockade is secured. And he could not even float through the stone walls next to the door—

Wait. Wait. Could he have actually done that?

Curse whoever built that door, screwing with his mind!

So, okay, great, that opens up one possible route of escape he did not think about before.

“What are you doing here?”

Dusknoir’s voice calls him out of his slowly-starting-to-become-frantic thoughts.

He wants to roll his eye, but holds back. Right now, he is poor, scared Darcy, who feared for his life once he felt the darkness, with which Darkrai surrounded himself, encroach. Who hid under his bed, and does not even know what happened to the Sableye who insisted on guarding his door. He has already forgotten the name.

(He has not. He just wants to pretend he has for reasons he does not want to think about.)

So, instead, he just flatly answers, “Hiding,” because, well, he is still Darcy, resident grouch of wherever he is.

And that, finally, prompts a change of mien from Dusknoir, who now lets mild annoyance peek through. Which is not good. But it is also not murderous, which is good.

“Get out,” he orders, and Darkrai would really like to tell him where he can stick his order, but…

But instead, he asks, “Is it… gone?”, and when Dusknoir nods, he just gets out from beneath the bed. Which he had wanted to do, anyways. There isn’t a lot of space under there, if he does not want to literally hide in it.

Finally, he stands upright again, Dusknoir having watched the whole ordeal of him getting out with no words spoken. And for a few more moments, neither say anything. But then, something like anger creeps into Dusknoir’s gaze. Why is bad. Very bad.

“Why did you hide?” Dusknoir asks, or rather, accuses.

Darkrai looks away from him, towards the side, and the other side, as if looking around to make sure that there really is no one else here. “Well, because I really don’t want to run into it, you know?”

“Darkrai,” Dusknoir says flatly, but also prompting Darkrai to continue talking with just his tone. Which is kind off impressive. Darkrai reminds himself to hate Dusknoir a little more for pulling this off so effortlessly.

“Yes,” Darkrai answers just as flatly.

“And why did you know that it is here?” Dusknoir asks, and there it is, what Darkrai knew all along he would ask. Which means he got to arrange a nice story for himself.

“I told you, something felt off. At first I was not sure what, but once I had returned here, I felt the… darkness. I cannot describe it in any other way, but if Darkrai wants to, it can make its presence… known like this.” Dusknoir experienced it, of course, but Darcy could not know that. Assume it, perhaps, but not know. “And I… became scared. So I hid.”

“Under the bed,” Dusknoir says, his voice perfectly flat, once again.

“Well, the table seemed like a worse place to hide,” Darkrai allows himself to snap, finally, because Darcy would be very stressed right now, and when he is stressed, he becomes quite mean. Well, he always is, but in a different way than usual.

He is very much like Darkrai, in that.

“And why would you hide?”

That… what question is that?! Darkrai splutters. “Because I refused to do what it wanted? Because in the future, it obviously must know that I stopped working for it quite some time ago? And I don’t know how you deal with runaway accomplices, but it does not show any mercy!” By the end, he has actually raised his voice, as a distraught Darcy might do.

“A runaway slave,” Dusknoir suddenly says, and as Darcy, he obviously does not realize that the ghost is just parroting Darkrai. No, as Darcy, he feels betrayed by these words, and jerks back as if hit.

“What did you just call me?!”

“That is what Darkrai called you. A slave,” Dusknoir explains, and Darkrai can actually hear how he hurries to do so. How he obviously does not want to be the one going around, referring to others as slaves.

Darkrai reacts as Darcy would – he lets his face fall. As if in shock, and disbelief, but also wishing he would be more surprised than he is. “It… did…?”

“Yes. Moreover, it said it wants to… kill you. Personally.”

And with these words spoken, Darkrai lets himself fall down on his bed, to land in a sitting position. As if he does not want to believe the words, as if he does not even stomach them properly. He raises his hands to his face, and once it is covered, mumbles, “I will die,” as if he does not want to be overheard, but only just clear enough that Dusknoir should be able to hear.

Because Dusknoir is clearly uncomfortable with the way Darkrai called ‘Darcy’ a slave, and that is just what he wanted.

Pity this poor ghost, venerated Dusknoir, who, by siding with you, has put a target on his back. Is it not your fault that he might die, now? Should you not feel bad? Should you not feel as if you now need to keep this poor ghost safe? As if you should forgive him his past transgressions, because there are so many worse things to worry about?

If he could, he would really like to cackle. So the first part of his plan was bad! So what! There is nothing to worry about, because the next part is already working well.

Then, he repeats, “I will die and there is nothing I can do about it,” as if he is oh-so-desperate.

“You are safe as long as you remain here,” Dusknoir speaks up, and that proves to Darkrai that he really did buy it, once again. That… is lucky. He would like to tell himself that only his superior planning and manipulation made it possible, and of course, for that most part, it did…

Still. The previous plan was bad. He knows it. He knows it! But Dusknoir is still willing to believe him, and as long as Darkrai does not allow him any more time to properly think about what he said – and how it really make way less sense than it should – things might… work out.

So Darkrai pulls the hands off his face and stares at Dusknoir, in apparent disbelief. “It managed to get into this secure stockade of yours! I felt its presence, and obviously, you also met it along the way! You are lucky to be alive.”

Dusknoir looks to the side and crosses his arms. “It’s a coward. Instead of facing me in a fight, it fled.”

“Probably because it wanted to search for me, instead!” he cries, letting fear ring through his voice. It is surprisingly easy, he just has to imagine Dusknoir finding out that Darcy is actually Darkrai. “So where is it, now?” he asks, when Dusknoir does not speak up for just a little too long.

Dusknoir grimaces, or at least Darkrai thinks he does. Sometimes, it is hard to tell. Most times, actually.

“I don’t know,” he admits, finally. Which Darkrai, obviously, knew about already. Still, it’s nice to have verbal confirmation.

Then, a small noise escapes Dusknoir’s throat, as if he wanted to speak up, but stopped himself at the last second. He takes a deep breath, and yeah, obviously that is for dramatic effect. He is a ghost.

“It knocked all the Sableye out and… forced nightmares on them. It promised to wake them, but instead just fled. They… they haven’t woken, yet.” There is honest concern, even worry to be heard in his words, as well as the unspoken question of ‘Do you know how to help?’

Darkrai actually has to suppress a laugh at that, and cannot quite keep a grin from his face. Hurriedly, he looks to the ground. Concerned, definitely. Nothing else.

“Of course it promised,” he finally says, trying very hard to make it seem like he is disgusted at the behaviour shown by Darkrai, who is definitely not ‘Darcy’. “But it lacks the power to do so.”

Finally, he looks at Dusknoir, who seems shocked. As he should. He continues to explain, “Darkrai can only force others into nightmares, once it put them to sleep. They either wake on their own, or… remain caught in the nightmare. Even if it wanted to – and it generally does not – it could not help them.” By the end, bitterness creeps into his voice. Which… He wants to, of course. ‘Darcy’ is the one frustrated about it. Darkrai relishes in it, and so, the bitterness could never be his.

Finally, Darkrai shakes his head and stands up, as if filled with new resolve. “How long ago were they put to sleep?”

“About half an hour.”

Darkrai nods and moves over to the door. Best to seem willing to help, to check up on those annoying Sableye. And if he just gets closer to the exit of the stockade on accident? Oh, what a complete unforeseen and unwitting development. “Alright. Then… they will probably start waking on their own.”

“And if they don’t?” Dusknoir asks, immediately following him.

“Just hope that they do,” Darkrai answers ominously. Dusknoir’s chances of finding Cresselia in this world are slim. Even if she is still around.

(Part of him hopes that she is.)

(But only because she would hate living in this world, and he loves infuriating her.)

Just outside the door, the first sleeping Sableye greets them, of course. Not that Darkrai knew he would be there, of course. No. He stayed inside his room the entire time and was nowhere else.

Dusknoir, without even sparing a look at Darkrai, floats over to Artabas—, the Sableye and picks him up easily, and then starts carrying him. Which would seem nice, if Darkrai did not have to wonder, did he just leave him out here, on the ground, and instead decided to confront ‘Darcy’? Not that he could have woken him, and not too much time has passed since Darkrai escaped from the execution place… But still. He has nerves to act so concerned now.

But instead of calling him out on anything, Darkrai just looks at the Sableye as if in worry. “You should probably place him somewhere comfortable. Once he wakes, he will probably be thankful for it.”

Dusknoir just hums as an answer, and then follows the corridor in the direction of the kitchen and other rooms. The other part of it leads straight to a back entrance of the execution place, as Darkrai was told just a day ago, and which was also the path he took to enter as himself, before.

Now, they instead make their way to the rooms which Dusknoir previously indicated to be the Sableye’s rooms during his little tour. He opens the door – which probably means that Sableye cannot pass through walls, or maybe that it might be a bad idea to move a sleeping Pokémon through any kind of solid object. It might actually make him starve faster, so perhaps Dusknoir already surmised that from what Darkrai told him. It is not his problem, honestly.

The room behind the door looks… very basic, like most things in the stockade. Sure, they look lived in, in a way, but everything is also… quite barren, for the most part. There are three small beds, and next to them, three small tables, but besides that, there really isn’t much to tell them apart. The little signs of personalization which can be found everywhere in the past – like flowers hung on the wall next to the bed, maybe an opened diary (which Darkrai would obviously never read), a painted picture of someone’s family – seem to not exist here, for the most part. Perhaps it is also just Dusknoir not wanting his subordinates to clutter their room too much.

There is a door on the right wall, probably a connection to the room right next to it, which would be where the other three beds must be. Darkrai recalls that, from the outside, there were two doors which Dusknoir indicated as leading to the Sableye’s rooms.

The ghost, meanwhile, floats over to the bed in the middle and puts Arta—, the Sableye down on it, much more gently than Darkrai would have expected.

Then, he turns around, and explains, “The rest are still at the execution place.” Nothing else is said as he starts to make his way just there. Hesitating for just the smallest moment, Darkrai finally turns to follow him, closing the door once he has left the room. He is not sure why, honestly.

And then… well. It is awkward. Dusknoir says nothing, and although Darkrai is mostly sure that he has been cleared from most possible suspicions Dusknoir might have had… Well. There is still that doubt, and there is still that uncertainty, and there is still the worry that Dusknoir has, in fact, not forgiven him yet.

Moreover, Darkrai would really prefer not to be here, anymore. Sure, possibly having kept Dusknoir’s trust is… nice. Dusknoir is a useful tool! But rather than have his trust, he wants to have—

He has not even allowed himself to properly think about Pearl and everything going on with her trust. Because he is not stupid, obviously, and so he knows that her trust must be… very much broken right now. Which is still preferable to her being dead, but it is also not what Darkrai wants. He wants her trust, no, he needs it!

… After all, he can only properly betray her if she trusts him in the first place.

But what else should he have done?! With his illusion active, he could never win against Dusknoir in a fight! He could not… anger him! And if he had just been a little more insistent about Pearl (and Grovyle, per proxy) not needing to be killed, then Dusknoir would probably have strung him up next to them!

So, really, his plan might have been thrown together in a matter of seconds, sure, and it might have backfired somewhat, but at least he now has no clue where Pearl and Grovyle even are!

… Wait. That’s not a good thing, either.

His shoulders slump, and he is not able to pull them up again. Maybe, he realizes, he has not been panicking, yet, because there is so much to panic about that, if he allowed it to happen, he would just die.

But now, things are just… They remind him of when he first woke up. Awkward, a looming sense of danger, he is not sure how he should behave… Yes, they are very similar. This situation is just worse.

Finally, the doors to the execution place loom before them, and Dusknoir does not stop to open them, as he did when Pearl and Grovyle were here. Obviously, they could not have been brought through the door. Most likely, it also allowed them to flee unseen.

On the ground are the five Sableye who were supposed to be the executioners, and who Darkrai knocked out easily – although only three of them are still asleep. Dusknoir, the moment he sees the two standing Sableye, hurries over to them. “Maurikios! Irene! You are awake!”

He sounds absolutely relieved, which is just sappy. Darkrai still keeps from rolling his eye, because… whatever. He is too tired right now to figure his own emotions out.

“Master Dusknoir!” one of them cries, turning around – Irene, Darkrai is sure. And he only knows her name because he is pretty sure that she was Door-Duty when he first woke up, and also, Dusknoir mentioned it right now. But even without that, he would remember how annoying she was. As all of the Sableye are.

The other one also turns to look at them, and Darkrai does not miss the corners of his mouth turn down the moment he looks past Dusknoir and towards Darkrai. He scoffs and crosses his arms. Well, the feeling is mutual.

“Are you alright?” Dusknoir then asks the two of them. Their answers come hesitantly.

“I… guess,” Irene finally says, and the other one adds, “Whatever that attack was, it was…” He trails off, takes a deep breath, and then says, “Unpleasant, let’s put it.”

Darkrai cannot see Dusknoir’s mien, but the way he draws back his shoulders – squaring up, becoming more defensive – tells him enough of the other’s feelings about it. Darkrai, of course, does not care. So what? Nightmares are natural.

“Do you need any medical attention?” Dusknoir asks, and at that, Darkrai instinctively scoffs. Immediately, three pairs of eyes turn towards him. Or actually just… two and a half? But ‘half’ would indicate that Dusknoir was hiding another eye somewhere, which he absolutely is not.

… Five eyes, he decides. Five eyes turn towards him. Which he did not want to happen, but alas, it is too late now to take his reaction back.

“It was just nightmares,” he tells them. “Unless someone remains in a nightmare for longer than a day, there really is not much more to it.”

“It was the worst kind of nightmare I’ve ever had!” Irene immediately says, and at that, Darkrai actually snorts. For living in this dark world with its mad ruler, that is actually surprising.

“Lucky you, then,” he tells her, “But you woke, did you not?”

Dusknoir’s eye narrowed as Darkrai spoke, and sure, he should worry about that. But to him, he is just ‘Darcy’, and Darcy would behave this way. That Darkrai would, too… Well, the ghost cannot possibly know. Finally, Dusknoir lightly shakes his head and turns towards the three Sableye who are still asleep. He floats over to one and lightly touches their shoulder.

“We already tried that, Master Dusknoir,” the Sableye who is not Irene – Maurikios, was it not? Ugh, he hates having to remember their names to be able to tell them apart, at least a little – says, and to that, Darkrai adds, “As I told you, they will wake naturally soon enough.”

“And what makes you such an expert on that attack, huh?!” Irene asks, by now sounding actually hostile.

Darkrai thinks about rolling his eye, but decides that she is not worth it. Perhaps he should just keep his comments a little less antagonistic, for now; which is made harder due to his opinion of Dusknoir and his Sableye.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he snaps back, and that, actually, makes her growl. Just when he starts asking himself if he will have to prepare for her attacking him like a feral Pokémon, a groan interrupts them.

All of them turn in its direction, which, unsurprisingly, turns out to be a Sableye lying on the ground.

“Theodora!” Irene cries and runs to the so-named Sableye. Maurikios and Dusknoir are just a little slower, but also move to her side quickly. And Darkrai… remains where he is. Should he make a break for it?

No, he decides. Dusknoir might be preoccupied right now, but abandoning this entire situation, after going to such great lengths to keep Dusknoir’s (careful) support would just be idiotic.

So instead, he just idles where he is, ignoring the chatter from the others. It is not like whatever they are saying is important to him, anyways. Really, in the last few days he has paid way too much attention to what others have been saying! Well, not in Treasure Town, but…

It feels very far away, already, even though consciously, Darkrai knows it has not been too long. It has been what, three days, four? …since Dusknoirforced him into the future. Even though he was unconscious for half of them. But it just… feels strange. Time seems to have stretched out, passed both slower and quicker than it normally does.

Which he knows it really does not – because it does not move at all, for most things here.

… But still, it moves, does it not? Of course it does, or Darkrai would not even be able to even ponder that question. No, instead he would just be… not much more than a statue. So, for those who evaded the planet’s paralysis, time moves. That opens the question, does it move in the same way it would in the past? Is an hour still made up of sixty minutes? Are the seconds still the same length they were in the past? Do days exist when there is no movement of the planet to separate them by?

He is giving himself a headache and thus decides to just stop ignoring the others, instead of thinking more about this topic.

“…about Zoe and Zenon?” one of the Sableye asks, Darkrai assumes. He did not hear the actual question, of course.

“It would be best to move them back to your rooms, until they wake,” Dusknoir says, moving past Darkrai towards the remaining two Sableye. “I will tell you more once everyone is in the same place and… awake.”

Darkrai stares at him. So Dusknoir is fearing that not all Sableye will wake? Well, he did threaten to get them caught in endless nightmares, did he not? And he knows that, logically, there is not much of a reason to put Dusknoir at ease, but…

But actually, if he wants Dusknoir to fully trust him again, it would be best to put him at ease. Yes. Exactly.

“That is most likely,” he says, watching as Dusknoir picks one Sableye up, “I do not know what Darkrai may have told you, but unless it consciously chooses to keep someone caught in an endless nightmare, they generally wake up again.”

“Generally?” one of the Sableye repeats, and Darkrai can hear something akin to fear in their words.

He does, however, not even deign the asker with a gaze. Instead, he watches Dusknoir as he moves to the other sleeping Sableye. But even if he does not look at the asker, Darkrai still explains. He is, after all, trying to be helpful, because he’s still on Dusknoir’s side and so on. Definitely.

“Darkrai’s ability forces nightmares on those around it, whether it wants to or not. In very few cases, it accidentally forces someone into an endless nightmare.” He shrugs, and as Dusknoir lifts up the second Sableye, adds, “But that really does not tend to happen often, hence why the chances of everyone waking are high.”

“… So why do you know all this?” the same Sableye as before asks – Maurikios, judging by the voice.

Darkrai huffs. “None of your business.”

Dusknoir sighs heavily. “Darcy has some previous… entanglements with Darkrai,” he says, and Darkrai throws him something like a hurt or betrayed look. ‘Darcy’, obviously, would not want that to be shared.

“Previous entangle—”

“I said it’s none of your business!” he interrupts, as if he really does not want them to know more about it. Immediately, he continues, drowning out their attempts to get to know more. “Let us just bring those two to their beds.”

He turns towards the door, not even waiting for them, and before anyone can catch up to him, floats through. On the other side, he… waits, but just until the doors are opened, to allow Dusknoir through with the two Sableye he is carrying. Then, he once again floats ahead, as if he is very insulted, and does very much not want to talk to any of them. He ignores whatever chatter they get up to – which is not a lot – and once he arrives before the door to the room he previously entered alongside Dusknoir, he just floats though again.

Could he open it? Sure. Would it be better for his hunger to do so? Yes. But none of these things actually convince him to do so.

Behind him, the door is then opened by one of the Sableye, and the entire entourage enters. Dusknoir lays down one of the Sableye in one of the empty beds and then looks at the gathered Sableye. “I will lay Zoe in your bed, Maurikios.”

“Oh, no worries!” said Sableye immediately answers, “It’s better to gather everyone in one room, I understand!”

Ugh. How… considerate.

“And then, we wait?” Theodora, he thinks, asks, and Dusknoir hums. “Indeed, we—”

A groan interrupts him. Everyone’s attention immediately jumps towards the Sableye who seems to be waking, who is the one still in Dusknoir’s arms, the one he wanted to lay in Maurikios bed.

Ugh. If she wakes now, that means more reunification, which means more horribly emotional behaviour.

Why, just why, did Pearl and Grovyle have to escape without Darkrai? Why did they refuse to trust him?

Now, instead he has to try very hard to ignore the happenings as Zoe wakes up and is happily received by the other Sableye and Dusknoir. Who could have ever guessed that Dusknoir actually cared that much about them?

… Alright, Darkrai could. That was why he attacked them in the first place. It became obvious after he introduced him to them, and actually let them be… well, themselves, even if that meant a rambunctious bunch of idiots.

In any way, having to ignore all of this is just… annoying.

However, the happy reunion is interrupted by a cry, making everyone turn around. In the bed closest to the wall, one of the two sleeping Sableye is sitting upright, just staring ahead. Well, previously sleeping.

“Zenon!” someone cries, and then, they start piling on top of each other over there, the previously awoken Zoe seemingly joining in – although Darkrai can easily make her out, due to her being still very unsteady on her feet.

And then, easily guessed, more happy gushing and emotional talk and…

He would really like to be anywhere else. Well, maybe not eye to eye with Primal Dialga… but everywhere else would be acceptable.

Even worse is that, judging by everything, the last Sableye will wake up soon enough, too, and then the emotions will start anew. Just wonderful. But until then, Darkrai just… tunes everything out. Instead, he stares at one of the walls, and acts as if he is deep in thought.

Which he is! Just not about actually important things. Sure, he could plan how best to ambush Grovyle and Pearl, because that is surely what Dusknoir will want to do; or how he could make Pearl believe him that he is still her friend, but…

But he would rather just think about nothing like that, right now. Because the moment he starts doing it, he feels something like… like apprehension, or maybe even fear bubble up in his chest. No, he cannot allow himself this feeling right now. Or ever. He needs to keep functioning, even if everything is going so horribly wrong.

Someone loudly calling a name draws him out of his thoughts. Not his name, but something about the way it was called just… made him listen.

“Bas! Come ooon, sleepy head,” one of the Sableye calls out to the last sleeping one of their kind. In fact, they seem to have gathered around his bed, staring at him. Which will be a fun awakening from a nightmare, Darkrai is sure.

“Is there truly no way to wake someone from this nightmare, Darcy?” Dusknoir addresses him, an intense stare on his face.

Darkrai stares back for a few moments, caught unaware. Could Dusknoir not just go back to ignoring him? Please? He would very much prefer that. But when the ghost does not, Darkrai finally decides that to answer.

“It depends on whether they are still sleeping because of Darkrai’s attack or just normal sleep.”

“And how can we tell the difference?” a Sableye asks, and Darkrai rolls his eye.

“Well, is he visibly having a nightmare? Yes? Then it’s Darkrai’s doing.” That it will always be Darkrai’s doing as long as ‘Darcy’ is aware he wisely does not mention. “If not, then just… douse him with water or slap him or someth—”

He has not ended his sentence when the noise of a slap is heard. Awkward silence ensues.

“Well, a slap didn’t do the job, Lord Dusknoir, sorry,” one of the Sableye says.

Dusknoir actually groans. “There was absolutely no need for that, Zenon.”

Then, he looks towards Darkrai again. “I heard of some Pokémon being able to travel into the dreams of others. Would that help at all?”

“Well, can you even do so? Because if none of us can, then it is pointless to puzzle over it.” He trails off. Well. Technically, he can do so, but… “Still, it would not help if it was an endless nightmare.” He shrugs.

Dusknoir turns towards Artabasdos again, his eye showing clear concern.

“Don’t worry, Master Dusknoir,” a Sableye says, “Bas has always been the slowest! Obviously he’d want to get some extra sleep in!”

“Yeah! He’s definitely gonna wake up when none of us are around, and then he’s gonna cry that we left him all alone.”

“Or he’ll throw a fuss that we are crowding him.”

“Or he’ll say that he’s super hungry and be annoyed that we didn’t make anything.”

There is a brief beat of silence, and then the same Sableye who said this, adds, “So… uh, anyone else hungry?”

Luckily for her, multiple voices resound, telling her that, yes, they are, and Bas would be super sad if they didn’t bring him anything and so on. It is a forced happiness they have found themselves in, very obviously, and Dusknoir, at least, does not seem willing to join in on it. Instead, he stares at his lone sleeping henchman, eye drawn together in displeasure, or maybe even worry.

“Hey, Lord Dusknoir, can I gather some food for everyone? To eat here, until Bas wakes?”

Finally, Dusknoir sighs, drawing his gaze away from the Sableye. “Yes, of course. I will remain here, to ensure Artabasdos is not too uncomfortable when he wakes.”

“Yeah, of course! Zenon, Irene, you gonna help me carry the stuff?”

Two nods are her answer, and then, the three of them walk out the door – opening it, Darkrai notices. So they probably cannot traverse walls. Although if they were hungry already it would make sense not to float through, and judging by how much slower they are than usual… they might just be.

Ugh. So complicated. He wishes he had access to a list of Pokémon which could traverse walls.

Darkrai, Dusknoir and three Sableye – two awake, one still caught in his nightmares – remain behind, and… at least no one tries to make small talk. Thankfully. The sleeping one lets out distressed noises now and then, making everyone but Darkrai eye him with either pity or worry.

Minutes pass, and when Zenon, Irene and… Theodora, he thinks, return with various foods, Artabasdos has still not woken. He also does not wake when the food is shared around, or once it has been eaten. And when Irene brings a bucket full of water, and douses him once Dusknoir is not paying attention and cannot stop her in time…

A splutter and cry is the only answer. But he does not wake up.

Darkrai ignores the heavy feeling in his stomach. This is not his fault, obviously. Just because he put the Sableye to sleep does not mean that he intended for this to happen. It might just as well have happened when they fell asleep naturally! It just happens, and if he could have stopped it, he…

Would not have done so. Obviously. He… He likes his ability. He likes to force others into endless nightmares. One Sableye he has known for only a little longer than a day being caught in one does not bother him.

And he really is not lying to himself. He knows this to be true.

“He’ll wake up soon, right?” someone asks him, and,

“What happens if he doesn’t wake?” someone questions him, and,

“Why is he not waking?!”, someone shouts at him, and,

“Why would Darkrai do this?” someone guilts him, and,

“He is the worst scum on earth!” someone reviles him, even if none of them realize it.

Darkrai tenses up.

“I am not Darkrai!” he cries, annoyed and frustrated and panicking, but just as if he was feeling these emotions, he isn’t, not really, “I do not control what happens, and if Artabasdos has not woken up yet, then yes, he is probably caught in an endless nightmare!”

“But then he will—”

“But if he won’t wake—”

“We have to—"

“We can’t let him—”

“I fucking hate—"

“Silence!” Dusknoir bellows, and finally, finally, everything becomes quiet again. Or at least an imitation of quiet – they may not be speaking, but they are rubbing their hands, scratching their heads, moving their feet, taking deep breaths, looking at him, staring at him, accusing him—

“How do you wake someone caught in an endless nightmare?” Dusknoir’s words are less a question and more an order, but they allow Darkrai to concentrate on just one person instead of six (seven). He looks at Dusknoir, stares in his eye, and then, he averts his gaze to look at one of the walls instead. This is not his fault, he reminds himself.

It is not! If Dusknoir had just left Pearl alone, if he had never forced her and Darkrai into the future, then none of this would have happened! He would have gladly ignored Grovyle being killed here, as long as Pearl remained safe.

So this is… This is not his fault.

Even so, he carefully answers Dusknoir’s demand. “There is a… Pokémon,” he starts, because… well, telling Dusknoir about Cresselia won’t do any harm. It is not as if he will actually find her. Probably. And even if he found her, Darkrai would just flee before she could realize who he is. “She can free those put into endless nightmares either by close proximity, or, if she cannot be somewhere, one of her feathers might also do the job. Although the feathers are not… entirely reliable,” he then admits. If they were, he’d have plucked her clean decades ago and always carried some with him.

… Or at least this is what his idiotic past self would have wanted to do. But the chances of the feathers working are, at best, 50-50, probably even less. He never got around to experimenting to find out. And it is not as if Cresselia would give him any of her feathers, anyways.

“And that Pokémon is…?” Dusknoir prompts, staring at Darkrai with something akin to annoyance. Why? It is not as if Darkrai is at fault here!

“She is called…” Ugh, he does not even want to say her name! He has done his best to ignore her very existence for the last few decades, and at least tried to suppress memories of her – which he was very much successful with, until about a day ago. He looks at the ground, then, at Dusknoir.

Giving Dusknoir the knowledge of a Pokémon who knows Darkrai, who would see through his illusion in a matter of days, maybe only hours, who, while not stronger than him at all still knows more of his weaknesses than anyone else… Just rubs him the wrong way, probably.

He sighs. No way around it. “Cresselia,” he states, and adds, “A Legendary Pokémon, pretty much Darkrai’s sis—” He interrupts himself. “Its opposite.”

The stumble should remain unnoticed, right? The words sound similar enough, and all of them are very obviously stressed, ‘Darcy’ included, and…

And why did he even stumble in the first place? It is not as if any of them now know their actual connection, so why was it so hard to even mention her? He is… feeling beside himself. Almost as if he is watching his own body from afar, stumbling over words, movements, emotions. Not in control, just an unfortunate observer.

And he knows he is not, he knows! But every movement, every word forced out, every emotion felt seems as if he is trying to control a dream from too far away, as if he is trying to force a dream to become a nightmare when Cresselia is right next to the dreamer, and he is not.

“And where can she be found?”

“How should I know?!” Darkrai finally shouts, fed up with these useless questions. In the back of his mind, he understands that Dusknoir does not have his wealth of knowledge, but… “I am not her!”

His first answer is silence, and then, a Sableye speaks up, “Geeez, no need to get so defensive!”

Darkrai crosses his arms and stares at a wall. “I am not,” he sniffs, because obviously, he would never be. Whatever connection they once had, she has revoked it anyways.  “But why… I just… Just stop expecting me to know everything,” he finally ends, none of the words actually turning out as he wishes for them to be. “I can’t help Artabasdos.”

Dusknoir, however, hums, as if what Darkrai said was what he wanted to hear. “Alright,” he states, “That is a good place to start. And I might know someone who will know more about where she might be.”

Then, he throws Darkrai a glance.

Darkrai very much does not like its implications.

 

“So why, exactly, could you not take any of your Sableye with you?” Darkrai finally allows himself to ask, because, well, it is a valid question. He has been wondering ever since being… forced might be a little too strong a word, but most certainly was he urged to leave the stockade together with Dusknoir. The ghost, floating ahead through a pass between the cliffs half a pace ahead, just hums in answer.

Great. Darkrai definitely knows the answer, now.

But then, finally, continuing on his way and not even sparing Darkrai a glance, he explains, “Because you, obviously, know more about Cresselia than any of them.”

“So what?” Darkrai asks, suppressing his urge to kick a pebble in frustration. Duskull don’t have the legs to do that with. Sadly. “Your mysterious someone will probably know even more, if they already know her whereabouts.”

Dusknoir once again does not answer in a timely manner. Instead, he continues along the path, towards the end of the pass. There is just more darkness to be seen there, and a few of the ever-present floating boulders.

“Besides,” Darkrai adds, when Dusknoir still does not answer, “Should we not try to catch up to Grovyle and Pearl?”

That makes Dusknoir huff out a laugh. “What, so you can celebrate their successful escape with them?”

And then, quicker than Darkrai can blink in surprise, Dusknoir has turned around. “Make no mistake, Darcy,” he says, his voice… icy. Threatening. They are alone here, Darkrai realizes, trying not to shudder. They are alone and Darkrai could not win against the ghost. “I am quite aware that Pearl escaping was what you had wanted to happen.”

The words of denial do not manage to leave Darkrai’s throat in time.

“Do I believe that you were helping Darkrai achieve that?” Dusknoir asks, Dusknoir threatens. He lets the question hang in the quiet air around them. Darkrai swallows the words he had wanted to say.

“Luckily for you, I don’t. But I am quite aware of our differences when it comes to deciding on the future.” And with that said, Dusknoir turns around and starts moving forward again.

That… Darkrai hates him, he just hates him so very much. Stupid ghost, playing his stupid mind games! If Darkrai was not so… tired, then they would never have an effect on him in the first place. Dusknoir just got lucky.

Besides, does it not prove that Darkrai is still the superior, that Dusknoir believes him to not have had anything to do with Darkrai? Yes. Yes, it absolutely does.

Deciding that there is nothing else he can do now – running would just bare his back to Dusknoir, attacking would not knock the other out with the single attack he might manage before the retaliation – he starts to follow the ghost again.

For a while, they continue in silence, until finally, they reach a deep chasm. More boulders than Darkrai could previously see are floating ahead of them. Further ahead, they start creating more of a structure, and even further ahead, that structure finally becomes a destroyed Temporal Tower. But even if the boulders form some sort of line towards it, it cannot be reached anymore by anyone without wings. Darkrai is sure that, even if they managed to jump unto the first few boulders, the distance between some of them would be much too far to be bridged by a jump.

But obviously, they will not make their way there, anyways. Whoever Dusknoir wants him to meet, they most likely do not reside in Temporal Tower. Is Primal Dialga even still there? Darkrai is not sure. He would not know any other place where Primal Dialga would rather be, but still… Running into it on accident would be… unfortunate. To put it lightly.

Still. There is a chasm before them, and Darkrai really does not know where Dusknoir is trying to lead them. Maybe there is a hidden path, leading downwards?

“Do you think you can make the jump to that boulder over there,” Dusknoir starts to ask, pointing in the direction of one boulder with a flat top, “Or will I have to throw you?”

“Throw me?!” Darkrai asks, indignantly. Is this Dusknoir’s idea of a joke?

“It is an honest question,” the ghost says, face serious. “I can do so, but we do need to reach that stone to continue. But if you believe yourself to be capable—”

“Of course I am!”

“Wonderful,” Dusknoir says, and Darkrai does not even need to see him to know he is smirking. Stupid ghost. “Then do make sure not to miss. The fall is… deep.”

It almost sounds like a threat and as Darkrai stares down, he decides that, it most definitely was. He cannot even make out the end of the chasm because of the darkness. And his eyes are made for seeing as far and clear through darkness as possible!

… Great. This is Waterfall Cave all over again, is it not? Just with Dusknoir by his side, this time. Why do other Pokémon always insist on making almost-deathly jumps their favourite past-time? And, sure, Darkrai can definitely make the jump. That is not the issue here. The issue is the principle of the thing.

He huffs. “Suit yourself.” Then, he moves a little to the side, to get a better angle at the boulder, and not allowing himself to think much more about it, he jumps.

Mid-air, he realizes that, maybe he should have asked what Dusknoir was planning to do after that, because, well, this is just a floating boulder, is it not?

But before he can think more about it, he is falling again, and has to concentrate on catching himself on the boulder, and not… stumbling to his death once he lands. That done, he turns around, and looks at Dusknoir as he lands just behind him. The stone is not feeling crowded, at least – it is surprisingly big, probably about three metres in diameter.

“So now wh—”

And then, the stone moves beneath Darkrai, and he almost tumbles off the side. Only Dusknoir quickly grasping his arm and pulling him closer to himself keeps him from that particular fate. Darkrai stares at him with wide eyes and a heart which suddenly remembers that it should beat again instead of remaining still. It does so in way too rapid a rhythm.

Darkrai fights against his own legs, to not let them collapse beneath him. He won’t allow them to do so. He won’t.

And after a few moments, he wins the battle. Detaching his arm from where Dusknoir still held him, he takes a few steps forward, into the centre of the boulder. As he does so, he notices some faintly glowing, carved lines on the stone’s surface. They break off before they can complete the design they were once part of, but enough is left for Darkrai to know what it once looked like.

This is exactly the motive which can be found on the Relic Fragment he found so many years ago. The same one which is in the bag Dusknoir gave him back but a day ago. The one which would, at least, in the past, be used to activate the so-called Rainbow Stoneship.

Of which an actual fragment is currently moving Dusknoir and Darkrai forward.

For a few moments, he feels his chest constrict, feels his fingers clench, feels fire replace his blood – and then, he forces himself to take a deep breath. And another one.

He knows that the future is one of destruction. He wanted it to be so. So why does he, every time he is reminded of it, want to curl up and return to the past instead?! It makes absolutely no sense! He should be happy every time he is reminded of it!

In fact…

In fact, he tells himself, no, he realizes, that this is not his reaction to seeing a broken part of a broken future! No, he just dislikes great heights, because once you fall, you fall. There is nothing you can do to stop yourself from coming ever closer to the ground, and once impact is made—

So yes. This is merely a reaction to being so high up that he can barely make out the ground he jumped from, anymore. This world is a world he wants. Just with… less Primal Dialga. And deadly, bottomless chasms.

But still… Where is this thing taking them? It appears very much broken, and so, Darkrai doubts that it will actually go the entire way to Temporal Tower. Not that it would make sense to go there – the tower is a ruin of itself, and the only possible being that could dwell there would be Primal Dialga. And Dusknoir would not take him to meet that beast, he is sure – or at least he would just outright say that he was about to do so. Which would give Darkrai the chance to turn tail and run away, because no way in the Distortion World will he even allow Primal Dialga so much as a glimpse of him.

So, perhaps, this part of the Stoneship became something like a moving bridge? That does sound likely. Perhaps it moves in a predetermined pattern, and using it to cross the chasm is more effective than climbing all the way down, and then up again.

In fact, that sounds very likely.

“There is another jump up ahead,” Dusknoir warns, looking in the direction the piece of Stoneship  is moving. “It is a little smaller than the previous one, but it has to be timed very precisely.”

“Do not worry, I am sure I can make it,” Darkrai says, because obviously he can.

Dusknoir turns his way and just stares for a few moments. Then, mirth in his voice, he clarifies, “I would still rather be completely sure.”

And before Darkrai can so much as get another word in, he has grabbed and lifted him. For a few moments, his thoughts cannot quite catch up with him, and he just… hangs there. But then, they ram into him with speed which wants to make up for the missed time. Surprise, annoyance, anger, and many more course through him, resulting in hacked words and flailing limbs.

“Wha—, You—, Let me—, Put me down! Right now!”

“In a moment, don’t worry.”

“Now!” he shouts, and he is about to shout more, to increase his tries of freeing himself from Dusknoir’s strong hold – but then, he feels the other tense. The next moment, Dusknoir jumps. Darkrai’s shouts become a scream as he clutches on to Dusknoir involuntarily.

They land, and more gently than he grabbed him before, Dusknoir puts Darkrai down again.

“There we go,” the ghost says, self-satisfaction clear. There is even something like mirth dancing in his eye.

“There we go?! What is wrong with you?!” Darkrai shouts, ignoring how this bolder, once again, features fragments of the Rainbow Stoneship’s design, or how it starts moving the moment they touched down. He feels absolutely disgusting, and he is pretty sure there will be no water ahead to wash that feeling away. “Don’t… Don’t just touch me! Or carry me! Or do whatever you thought you did!”

“Carry you safely to the—“

“You know exactly what I mean!” Darkrai interrupts, suppressing a shudder. He feels… horrid! Dirty! His entire body, he wants it to stop feeling anything at all. But does Dusknoir care? Obviously not!

“I wanted us both to get safely across. The other boulder moves past this one quickly, and if any of us had missed the jump, we would have needed to make our way back to the cliff, and wait for it to reactivate.”

“Then just trust that I could make the jump myself!”

“I feel like trust is very hard to come by, currently,” Dusknoir says, effectively shooting down any of Darkrai’s arguments. Because Darcy is supposed to feel bad about everything that happened. And so, by mentioning it like this, even if in a wholly different context, he practically forces him to fall silent.

This is just so… so…

Ugh! He is sure that Dusknoir did not think he would not be able to make the jump. No, it is much more likely that he wanted to infuriate him, test his reaction to the unasked-for touch, see if he would attack or just accept it.

And what else but accept it should Darkrai have done? Had he attacked he would currently be falling to his death, he is sure! At least he told Dusknoir that he did not enjoy it in the least, but… What help is that when Dusknoir has the strength to just do it again whenever he wants to?

He hates this. He hates this situation, he hates Dusknoir, he hates this cursed future. Once he has a chance to take his revenge on Dusknoir – and he will have it – he will enjoy every last second of it. He will draw it out for as long as possible and grant the ghost no reprieve.

That, he swears.

But for now, he does as Dusknoir wanted him to, and falls silent. In fact, he decides, he will stay quiet even through their meeting with… well, whoever.

And so, when Dusknoir warns him of the next – and last, supposedly – jump, Darkrai just nods, but says nothing. This time, the ghost lets him jump on his own.

Once he has landed, Darkrai looks around.

This…

Dread washes over him. This is what remains of Temporal Tower’s pinnacle, is it not? He had only seldomly been here before, but…

But he recognizes the stones at his feet, and the pillars at his sides. It does not matter that they are broken, that they are scattered, that they have fallen over and down. It does not even matter that there is a gigantic hole, where once, a polyptych-type wall stood atop of stairs, the insets for five Time Gears in its middle.

Even so, he recognizes this place. Ice flows through his veins, slows his reactions, halts the breath he had wanted to take. His feet move back one step, two steps, and almost hit a hole. Not big enough that he could fall through, but big enough to break something if it would have made him stumble.

He retakes his steps, walks forwards again, away from the small hole and towards the gigantic opening.

Surely, he tells himself, surely Primal Dialga cannot be here. It cannot be. Because if it was, Darkrai would need to run away right now. He would need to get away as quickly and as far as he could, and he would have to abandon all his previous plans. And he cannot do that.

He cannot abandon his plans, and even if he could… There are no stairs. No more conveniently floating boulders. No way away from here which does not end with him outright killing himself. Except for perhaps opening a Dimensional Hole, but…

But that needs him to be in his true form. It needs more time than he would have, if Primal Dialga was truly here. And for some reason, his chest starts constricting and his hands start shaking and his breath starts quickening as he imagines opening a Dimensional Hole where Primal Dialga could see, where Primal Dialga could react.

He… He does not know why he feels this way. He does not understand why he does. But he recognizes that the thought of opening a Dimensional Hole where someone stronger than him could react, could attack, could harm, fills him with utter, primal fear.

So… So really, Primal Dialga cannot be here. Someone else must live here, now. Someone else must have made the pinnacle of Temporal Tower their home, and Primal Dialga must be somewhere else. Somewhere very far away.

Dusknoir, meanwhile, has moved forward, towards the gigantic hole. It would be so easy, Darkrai thinks, to quickly move forward and just push. Rid himself of the other, once and for all.

He has already moved some steps forward when he realizes that, of course, it is never that easy. Dusknoir is heavy, and much stronger than Darkrai. Besides, he is a ghost. He can travel the Spirit World and could most likely enter it even if he was falling. And if he could not, he is… hardy. Perhaps, he would even be able to survive the impact, just to spite Darkrai.

And ignoring all of this, by now, Darkrai has already manipulated Dusknoir into doing what he wants him to, most of the time. His death would not grant Darkrai anything but emotional satisfaction. He is above acting solely on that.

Finally, Dusknoir turns around and looks at Darkrai. Darkrai stares back, as if he did not consider his murder right now.

He remains where he is. Whoever resides in this chasm, he does not want to make their acquaintance.

But then Dusknoir makes a beckoning motion with his hand. And at first, Darkrai just remains where he is – but then, Dusknoir’s eye narrows, and with legs that do not want to properly carry him, Darkrai takes a few more steps forward. Still, he remains much further from the hole than Dusknoir.

It seems to be good enough, at least, as Dusknoir turns around again, to face the chasm.

There… there is definitely someone else in there. But if it was Primal Dialga, Darkrai would have… felt it. Yes. Yes! That is right! He most certainly would have felt its presence, or noticed signs of its occupation of this place. Sure, there have been times where he did not feel Dialga’s presence, but that was when he was still Dialga, and not some twisted, primordial version of himself. He would… definitely feel its presence.

So, really, there is no reason to be so very scared! Who is Darkrai, if not the master, no, the god of nightmares?! Fear is his métier! He does not feel it, he only spreads it!

He takes one more cautious, curious step forward.

“I apologize for the bad news, Master,” Dusknoir starts, speaking to the hole – or what it holds, to be exact, “But the captives managed to flee.”

There is something like a growl, or a snarl, or maybe a mix of it. Darkrai can feel it resonate through the ground beneath his feet, can see some small pebbles shudder, can feel his own heart’s confused beat, not sure if it should change its rhythm.

No.

No. There is just… some, some other Pokémon, which can growl this loudly, in exactly that cadence! There must be!

And then…

Then, a head rises from beneath the ground. Two red eyes fixate on Dusknoir. Another growl.

Darkrai’s heart gives out for a beat, maybe two. Then, it starts beating as if to make up for the lost time. His chest shudders as he tries to draw breaths which never seem to hold enough air, and his legs shake like reeds in a storm. His throat constricts, as if it does not want to ever speak a word or breath air ever again. Dark spots dance in his vision, but he cannot move even one step away, his body refusing commands he never makes.

“There was an outsider helping them,” Dusknoir continues. Darkrai can barely hear him past the blood rushing through his ears, through the shaking of his hands, the fear in his stomach. And still, he tries to concentrate on his voice, because it is the only thing keeping him truly grounded right now. “A Legendary, supposedly, called Darkrai.”

The most horrible thing happens, then. Primal Dialga – because this is who he is facing, this is who has been dwelling in Temporal Tower, this is the one who will kill him – lets out another growl, or maybe a snarl, but through it, he can clearly hear a word, no, a name. “DARKRAI,” Primal Dialga says, and it is the furthest thing from speech he has ever heard.

He almost jerks, almost lets on that this is his name, almost feels as if the beast addressed him. But that cannot be. It… It has not even looked at him. He can still get away. He can still get away right now.

His legs do not move. His heart beats even faster, the dark spots in his vision increase their frantic dance, he shakes as if he was caught in a snowstorm, but his legs do not move.

The beast rises even further from the void it emerged from, until half of its gigantic body is visible. And yes, of course, Dialga was always gigantic. But somehow, in this world of darkness and in its broken tower, Primal Dialga seems even taller.

“DARKRAI,” Primal Dialga actually repeats, its voice becoming just the slightest bit clearer. It still does not seem like speech, but like the omen of an unmoving world. Then, it lets out a series of strange sounds, akin to coughs. Darkrai has no idea how to interpret them, except for ‘danger’. The beast then continues to growl, it continues to speak, “A PEST. KILLED HIM ONCE… WILL KILL HIM TWICE.”

And finally, Darkrai’s legs move, just to give out beneath him. He does not even feel the pain which comes from his body hitting the cold ground, because he can only stare at the beast before him in gut-wrenching, paralysing fear.

Dusknoir, as if he does not realize the danger every being in the vicinity of Primal Dialga is in, speaks up again. “That is… mysterious. It claimed something different.”

A growl, much louder than the previous ones, comes from Primal Dialga. It does not sound like a word.

“Of course, I apologize, Master Dialga! I believe your words! But… I have a question.” When Primal Dialga does not move to kill him, Dusknoir continues to speak. Darkrai, meanwhile, fights for every gasp of air he can get. “One of my subordinates is caught in an endless nightmare, and someone told me that a Legendary called Cresselia could help them. Is there… anything you know about her?”

The strange series of sounds from before comes from Primal Dialga. This time, his heart stopping and becoming quicker all at once, Darkrai realizes that this is supposed to be a laugh.

“CRESSELIA,” Primal Dialga growls, repeats, mocks. In its horrible voice, so unlike the one it once had, it continues, “TRIED TO SAVE DARKRAI.” It laughs one more time. “KILLED HER ALL THE SAME.”

And Darkrai feels as if what little air he could gather through his much-to-quick breaths was just forcibly punched out of him. That… no. No. No, no, no. Why would she—

“So she is… dead?” The question is asked by Dusknoir, but if Darkrai had the strength to speak, he knows it would be him. The disbelief to be heard, the chagrin, the shock…

Primal Dialga just growls, but Dusknoir seems to understand all the same. He nods. “Thank you, Master Dialga.”

Darkrai tries to think of anything at all, but Primal Dialga’s words echo in his head, repeating and repeating and never stopping. Killed him, killed her, they mock him. Killed, killed, killed. Him, her, Darkrai, Cresselia, killed, killed, killed, killed.

He tries to focus, tries to stand up and assume his true form, tries to flee, tries to do anything but sit here and hear these words, again and again, but he can’t. He… can’t.

“CAPTURE,” Primal Dialga growls, Primal Dialga commands, but Darkrai only faintly hears it. The word overlaps with the ones still resounding within his mind, and they do not allow him even a moment of reprieve.

Killed him once. Will kill him twice. Killed him. Kill him.

“Of course, Master,” Dusknoir easily agrees, “I already have a plan. The Pokémon from the past I mentioned will help me with it.”

And he floats to the side, granting Primal Dialga an uninterrupted view on Darkrai.

On Darkrai, who tries to shrink back, to hide, to move, to do anything at all; but the only thing he manages is a shuddering breath and a fearful gaze. He cannot even make Primal Dialga out clearly, his eyes refusing to focus, looking left and right and up and down without him wanting them to do so.

Red eyes become blurs which stare at him, stare, stare, stare some more.

He is going to die, is he not?

He always imagined that there would be more he could do to save himself once again. But his body and mind have betrayed him, and Dusknoir has, too. Ironic, is it not?

How he felt in control, how he felt the manipulator, but in reality…

In reality…

Red eyes blink. Darkrai squeezes his eye shut.

He is a coward. He knows it. He just hopes it will be… painless.

Primal Dialga makes the noise which is supposed to be a laugh. “WEAK,” it growls, it mocks, it decides.

“SUCCEED,” it says, it growls, it threatens. Darkrai opens his eye just in time to see Dusknoir bow deeply. As if the beast deserves his respect. As if he wants to follow its command.

“I promise, Master Dialga.”

And with that… With that, Primal Dialga lets out one last growl, and disappears again.

 

The way back is silent. Dusknoir is quiet because…

Well. Darkrai cannot be sure, but he imagines being made aware that the only one who could help your subordinate (who is really more like family to you) has been… has been dead for probably centuries must be quite depressing.

And Darkrai himself…

…

He does not want to think about anything, to be honest. Which is unfortunate, because he just can’t stop himself from doing so, anyways. And his thoughts are…

Primal Dialga’s words still ring in his head. And they… they must have been a lie. Because… because if he… if he truly was…

No. No! Primal Dialga had to be lying. Obviously, Cresselia would never try to help him. Besides, Primal Dialga clearly didn’t know as much as it wanted to let it seem – it did not even see through Darkrai’s illusion.

But… but even if Primal Dialga proved itself capable of speak, it was… everything about it was wrong. What was once a Pokémon with whom one could hold an engaging conversation was reduced to… that. And that thing was not capable of lying.

And so, deep down, he knows that, of course she would. Their current relationship does not matter to her, when worst comes to worst. There are many cases in which she would help him, and not all of them involve emotional manipulation prior to whatever event took place. She has always been so willing to… to make sacrifices.

When she was young, it was less so, but once Darkrai lost his willingness to sacrifice his happiness for others, she suddenly took on that role. Making others happy is how she keeps herself sane, he knows, just as he does through making others unhappy.

These thoughts… These thoughts, he hates them. He does not want to face them, but everything which has happened has brought them to the front of his mind, has lead him right here, facing emotions he talked himself into believing forgotten. Just because he is suddenly aware that Cresselia is very much dead, in the here and now.

So what? He tries to tell himself. He already assumed that before.

But knowing… knowing is different.

And so what if he sometimes hates Cresselia, truly hates her with all of his being? She got the easier ability to deal with, and he hates her for it. She repudiated him first, and he hates her for it. She sacrifices herself for anyone but him, and he hates her for it. She wants to see him as everything wrong with the two of them, and he hates her for it. And so he hates her, for these things, and many others.

But…

But deep down, he knows that really, truly, hate cannot be there all the time. That sometimes, he wants to go back to how things used to be, before he found out how cursed he truly is, before he sacrificed his own sanity for the peace of others, before she realized what a monster he truly is, before…

Before everything.

These thoughts are… annoying little things. They make him feel less than he is, they make him ponder his past choices and find them… lacking. They always make him feel much worse than before he had them.

But they are here now, and intent on dragging up all the things he has managed so expertly until now.

Because, of course, deep down he knows that he did not try so very hard to give Pearl the chance to escape, just because he wants to take revenge. That, perhaps, he relishes in the feeling of someone accepting him, of someone wanting him, of someone not seeing him as the villain of every story which was ever told. That sometimes, laying himself bare before her had… had felt like unravelling just a little of the gordian knot he has allowed himself to become, has forced himself to become. And it makes him acknowledge, that he just… does not want to lose her. Does not want her to die. Does not want her to leave him.

And that, perhaps, that same feeling still applies to Cresselia, as well. Even if…

Even if he knows that things will never be as they were, and coming to the realization that, once again, he has pushed someone away from him, has destroyed their trust irrevocably—

He forcefully shakes his head.

What is he thinking?! None of that… None of all of this is true! He cannot allow it to be! Everything he thought right now, it is not true!

He can regain Pearl’s trust only if she is alive. He can only attain his revenge if she is alive. And he can only have his revenge if she trusts him. So keeping her alive and regaining her trust has nothing to do with… any wayward emotions.

And Cresselia… of course hearing about her-, her… her death would somewhat shock him. He has spent so much time hating her, he just detests that someone else got the kill! Never mind learning that, apparently, in this time he died as well! That would shock anyone, make them think traitorous, erroneous thoughts!

“I do apologize for not warning you,” Dusknoir interrupts the silence, when the lights of the stockade are only a few minutes’ walk away. “I… had to be sure I could trust you. And Master Dialga would have known if you were a traitor.”

That, finally, is what makes Darkrai stop in his mindless steps. He looks at Dusknoir. And even though the ghost seems somewhat downtrodden, it is also obvious in how he faces Darkrai once again, that, yes, his trust has been regained. But…

“So for you to trust me, you took away my ability to trust you?” he asks, and when Dusknoir jerks back as if hit, he just turns and starts towards the stockade again. This reaction did not give him any satisfaction whatsoever. It is as if he has lost his ability to feel any emotion but fear, at least for now.

Horribly, he feels reminded of a long-forgotten, lonely time in his life – a time he thought he had forced himself to forget fully. But his previous thoughts were already leading there, were they not? It seems as if that memory was only waiting for a moment of weakness to rear up once again.

Watching the sunrise before going to sleep would often calm him, when the worst thoughts would hit him, the thoughts which made him do the most self-destructive things, with the most immediate payoff. But there is no sunrise here to calm himself, nothing holding him back from falling into bad habits anew.

And for a second, he questions whether he ever really wanted a world like this.

He dares not to answer it.

“Darcy, I am—”

“Sorry? How unfortunate for you,” he interrupts, but does not turn around to look at Dusknoir. He can imagine the guilty face well enough and for once, does not want to see what effects his words have. His patience with Dusknoir is running thin, and not even his chagrin pleases him, at the moment.

“You have to understand how things looked from my perspective—”

“So what?” he asks, “Could you not trust my words? And what would you have done if Primal Dialga had been displeased by my mere presence? Would you just have let it kill me?!” he shouts at the end, and finally turns around.

Dusknoir averts his gaze.

Darkrai scoffs. “Exactly.”

They have arrived at the stockade’s door, and for a moment, Darkrai thinks of making a break for it. Dusknoir might not even follow him, with his guilty consciousness weighing on him so very heavy.

But what for? He has no clue where Pearl is, his bag is still in his room, and Dusknoir trusts him again.

So instead, he waits in front of the door, for Dusknoir to open it, somehow.

Dusknoir does so, quietly, only shooting Darkrai a short, pensive gaze when he remains on the threshold for a few too many seconds. Finally, he moves inside, and the door closes once again.

The way through the stockade is just as quiet as the way outside was, at first, until Dusknoir turns to him once again. “I understand that you do not want any more words of apology, but—”

“If you already know that I do not want them, why insist on it?” Darkrai interrupts, throwing Dusknoir a scathing glare. Slowly, ever so slowly, he is starting to feel like himself again, and, surprise, his non-fearful self hates Dusknoir. Has always hated him, and will always hate him. “To soothe your own guilty conscience?”

“No,” Dusknoir states, “But because I truly am sorry.” For once, he sounds earnest, saying these words. But now, Darkrai does not trust himself to actually be able to tell apart his lies from his truths. Then, Dusknoir continues, not daring to look Darkrai in the eye, “And because I need your advice. Your help. I… I just…”

Ah. Of course. Of course he would never apologize just because he actually felt sorry, even if he may claim so. No, he wants something from Darkrai, and he would probably not get that as long as they have not made up. How… predictable.

He wants to scoff and turn away, but… it sounds intriguing. Oh, of course, Darkrai could snap at him, could make himself as unapproachable as possible, and for a few moments, he really wants to do so. He has tired almost entirely of whatever relationship he has with Dusknoir. But… but there is another, smaller part which wants to do the opposite. He does not know why it is there, but for once, he decides to let this smaller part decide.

He crosses his arms and stares at Dusknoir, expectingly. “About what?”

Dusknoir looks around, as if ensuring that no one can hear him – which is a strange action. Has he not constantly felt in control, in this stockade? So, why the sudden anxiety, in this random corridor?

“I can’t let Artabasdos die,” he admits, looking Darkrai straight in the eye. After that gets too intense, he looks towards one of the walls. Then, he takes a deep, dramatic breath – or maybe, that is his way of getting just a little more time until he has to figure out  what to say. Darkrai does not care to find it out.

“I just… I can’t. Not like this. As long as there is a chance I could help him, I…”

Darkrai stares at him, and his voice is clear of emotions when he states, “Cresselia is dead. Even if a feather of hers remained, it would probably be useless. And if it was not, we would not be able to find it in time.”

“I know!” Dusknoir shouts, and the next moment, calms down. “I apologize. I am just…”

“Stressed, I am aware,” Darkrai helps him along. “Most Pokémon who have someone affected by one of Darkrai’s nightmares are. Pokémon who had their trust broken also tend to be so.”

“That is not helpful,” Dusknoir snarls. Then, he sighs heavily. “I know what I did. But Artabasdos is not guilty of any of it. So please… is there really only Cresselia who can…?”

Darkrai would laugh. What wonderful emotional manipulation he is trying! Because yes, he is right. Artabasdos had nothing to do with any of the things Dusknoir decided to do. He might have helped along with some of them, but being caught in the endless nightmare was really just a bout of bad luck. Truly, if Darkrai had decided on using one of them to get Dusknoir to rely on him, he would have chosen any of the others. Artabasdos was really the easiest to be around with.

But his endless nightmares are always unfortunate.

Finally, Darkrai answers, deciding to play along for the moment. “Yes, she is. As I have already told you how many times, now?”

As the words are spoken, Dusknoir puts his hands in front of his eye and drags them down, slowly. What a touching display of emotional vulnerability. Truly.

And then… Then, Darkrai has an idea. A wonderful, perfect idea. An idea that would ensure that he could finally, finally try to find Pearl, to get her trust once again, while also not losing Dusknoir’s hard fought-for trust.

And he knows – he knows! – that his plans lately have not been… up to his usual standard. He is fully aware that they are starting to conflict with each other, and that keeping track of all of them is getting progressively harder… but there is a chance right now, a wonderful, beautiful chance. A chance to get his hands on the one lie which Dusknoir would willingly play along with, and which would give him the words he will need to tell Pearl to regain her favour. The chance for it is right there.

And he just cannot keep himself from taking it.

“Although…” he starts, and trails off. That word alone is enough for Dusknoir to visibly become entranced by what he is about to say next, because he is desperate, and a desperate Pokémon would do anything. He takes his hands off his face and stares at Darkrai.

“I, of course, do not know what your plans for Grovyle and Pearl are,” Darkrai starts. Immediately, Dusknoir’s face becomes guarded again, and so, he hurries to get to the point, “But I am sure that I know their plans.”

“And those would be?”

“Oh, do not act as if you do not also know,” Darkrai says, making a dismissive motion with his hand. “Obviously, they will try to get to the past once again. Stop this future from ever happening.”

“And they cannot be allowed to do so,” Dusknoir says. Warning. Threatening.

“Oh yes, of course, but do you know who is still very much alive in the past?” Darkrai asks, and by the widening of Dusknoir’s eye, he understands. Then, his mien draws hooded again.

“Still,” he says, sounding almost hopeless, “I cannot let them escape to the past. And Master Dialga would… not be so easily inclined to help me follow them again. He would… Of course, he would never replace me. But his wrath is…”

Darkrai hums, as if understanding of his plight. “Yes, of course. But tell me, Grovyle is collecting the Time Gears to stabilize the crumbling Temporal Tower, is he not?”

Dusknoir’s gaze draws guarded once again. “And you know that because…?”

Darkrai averts his gaze, trying to seem very much ashamed. “Darkrai did share some things with me, when it deigned them important for my services to it.”

Saying these words feels very, very strange.

Dusknoir’s mien mellows again, at least somehow. “Ah, yes, of course. Then do continue, please.”

“Well, so you are aware that Grovyle will, at one point, make his way to the Temporal Tower of the past. Why not just travel to exactly the moment when he does so and intercept him?”

Dusknoir’s crosses his arms. “That was my plan already, if I failed to catch him yet again, in the future.” Then, his gaze grows even cloudier than it already was. “But how would that get me Cresselia’s feather? I somehow doubt that Grovyle would just bring one if I asked nicely.”

“But I would.” Darkrai smiles. “Let me go after them. Let me tell them that poor old me never wanted them killed, but was powerless to stop anything, and only managed to flee due to Darkrai’s interference.”

“You think they will believe you?”

With a self-assurance he really does not feel, he says, “Pearl definitely will.”

“And once they trust you again?” Dusknoir asks, and Darkrai can tell that he is slowly but surely warming up to the idea.

“Oh, that is easy, at least with your help,” Darkrai says, and a smile with no emotion on his face, starts explaining his perfect plan.

 

“Darcy?!”

The plan, of course, falls apart even before he has the chance to utter a single word.

“What are you doing here?” Grovyle hisses, visibly preparing himself to attack.

“Stop!” Darkrai hurries to cry, dancing back a few steps. When Grovyle still moves forward to hit him, he hurriedly adds, “Don’t attack!”

“And why shouldn’t I, huh?!” Grovyle hisses back, his eyes thin as slits, “So that you have time to tell Dusknoir our position?!”

Darkrai stares at him, his eye going wide. That—

Alright. Alright. He can admit, he understands how the other came to that conclusion. In fact, as far as Dusknoir is aware, Darkrai is helping him. Unfortunately for Dusknoir, though, Darkrai has a very different opinion on the matter, and making that apparent for Grovyle seems like a rather high priority at the moment.

“I’m not working together with him!” he hurries to say, and obviously, it would have been much too nice if they just believed him. No, instead Grovyle barks out a short laugh and Pearl… says nothing. She also does nothing, except staring at Darkrai with an emotion he really does not want to decipher. Because if he did so, he would start to feel certain emotions he had already had too much of, the last few days.

Maybe it is lucky, then, that Pearl just lets Grovyle do the talking. Which is very much not how she would normally behave. Darkrai does not want to think about the implications of that, right now.

“Yeah, as if! We will not fall for that anymore.”

Darkrai really wishes they would.

Before he has the chance to speak up again, Grovyle moves forward. Darkrai only manages to evade him because Grovyle is just the tiniest bit slower than normally – tired, probably. Air skims over his face, and he can only stare at the balled fist with a wide eye.

“Grovyle!” Pearl finally cries, making her once-friend scoff. Again-friend?

Darkrai takes a few steps away from him, in any case.

“He would deserve it,” Grovyle simply explains, “Besides, better to knock him out before he can alert Dusknoir about our whereabouts.”

“I don’t work for him!” Darkrai almost screams, this time, seriously annoyed at how things are going. “And if I did, he would already know where you are, anyways!”

Grovyle, much too close still, scoffs in answer once again. “Sure you don’t. And the sun’s gonna rise soon, huh?”

Darkrai hisses, then deigns to actually answer verbally. “It is not my fault Dusknoir wanted to believe that a fellow ghost, and a Duskull to boot, would just agree with all of his views.”

“Including his view on having us fucking executed?!”

“I-, I would never—” Darkrai starts, and then breaks off. That! He never made it seem like he wanted that to happen, not even in front of Dusknoir! Rightful anger coursing through him, he nails Grovyle with a cold glare. “I never agreed on that course of action!”

“Oh yeah, that’s why he still went forward with it, isn’t it?” Grovyle snarls back. Darkrai’s anger rises just a little more.

“What was I supposed to do?!” he shouts, “Disagree with Dusknoir openly, when I know he is much stronger than me?! Tell him to release you or-, or what? What should I have done which would not have ended with me tied to a third execution post?!”

“Just because you know that you are weaker does not mean that you should not stand up for what is right!”

“Wonderful, that would’ve made a great eulogy to write on my tombstone, then,” Darkrai hisses, really, really hating where this conversation is going now. He had enough of these types of conversations with Cresselia to know that they are very much a dead end. And still, no matter how often he has had them, he just cannot stop himself from giving as good as he gets.

“Stop it,” another voice suddenly interrupts, “Both of you.”

Darkrai and Grovyle turn to Pearl in synchronicity.

She stares at Darkrai for a few moments, then sighs as if she is carrying the world’s burdens on her shoulders, and finally turns towards Grovyle.

“None of this all really matters,” she states, sounding very calm. Which is weird. Judging by her reaction to the last argument, she should be at least a little angry, right? Darkrai planned according to that. So for her not to be…

Why can things never go as he wants them to?

“And you two insulting each other,” she then adds, “Isn’t gonna solve anything.”

Darkrai wants to gasp in affront, because of course it matters, Grovyle is insulting him constantly! But Grovyle does so first, instead.

“Piplup, this guy just watched, as we were about to be executed!”

“Technically I was forced to leave—”

“Shush, Darcy,” Pearl dares to interrupt him. Darkrai is about to tell her what he thinks of that, but she is already talking to Grovyle when he has recovered from her actual command enough to rebuke it.

“Whether he is here on Dusknoir’s behalf or not – it really does not matter, and neither does what he did before.”

For a few moments, no one says anything, and Darkrai can see his own disbelief mirrored on Grovyle’s face. That… He knows that she cannot honestly think so. Pearl is… is righteous! Courageous! She was hurt by his previous actions, he knows that!

“It does not matter?!” Grovyle finally shouts, making Darkrai flinch. Way too loud.

Pearl nods. “Yeah. Either he is here on behalf of some plan of Dusknoir, in which case Dusknoir must already know where we are and want us to take Darcy along; or he is not, and then we will need to continue and also take Darcy along.”

Grovyle crosses his arms. “We don’t have to take him along at all.”

“Oh, so you are perfectly alright with leaving me to just die out here, or what?” Darkrai snarls, because he has been quiet long enough now.

“Yes,” Grovyle flatly says.

“No!” Pearl vehemently states.

They look at each other for a few moments, and then, Grovyle huffs. He turns to look towards the direction of the stockade and stares down at it. Finally, he turns back towards Pearl. “You do know that this is the same guy who was just gonna let you be executed, do you not?”

“I know,” Pearl says.

Darkrai really feels like he needs to intervene, though. He saved them. Mostly. They also managed to get away on their own, but that was just a side-effect of him saving them! They should be on their knees before him, kissing his feet, thanking him! But no, instead he is treated like a-, a criminal!

“I did not just ‘let you get executed’,” he repeats, mockingly. Which he probably shouldn’t sound like, but it is not his fault if Grovyle riles him up.

Both of them turn to look at him, and Grovyle raises one eyebrow.

“Unless you want to claim responsibility for some Pokémon called Darkrai breaking into the stockade, threatening everyone there and making off before anything was actually resolved, yes, you did,” Grovyle says, folding his arms.

Darkrai shakes his head in disbelief at this situation. Yes, he very much would like to claim responsibility for that! Unfortunately for him, though, he cannot do so right now. “You do not honestly think I just went back to the room Dusknoir confined me in and stayed there, do you?”

“Honestly? I do,” Grovyle says.

Pearl shrugs. “Kinda, yeah.”

“You…! Impossible! I was planning on sneaking in from behind and freeing you like that, but then, well…” He trails off. In Darkrai’s version of events, he very much saved Pearl and Grovyle in his true form. In Dusknoir’s version of events, ‘Darcy’ hid in his room while Darkrai rampaged. And in Pearl and Grovyle’s version?

“I still snuck in, but as I saw Darkrai, decided to keep hidden unless he-, uh, it tried to kill you. But then you two just disappeared.” He shrugs. “I thought you might have escaped and decided to do the same, found the door you had definitely picked open, and, well, started walking the only possible route.”

“Beautiful story,” Grovyle says, “But I bet it’s just as fake as your previous offers of help were.”

“Nothing of this was fake!” Darkrai rebukes, too late noticing that he is once again finding himself in an argument with Grovyle. He is is just so… infuriating! Dusknoir and Grovyle both, they are just so very, very irritating, and he cannot wait for the day they finally die for good.

And did Darkrai know that Grovyle would be unlikely to greet him with open arms? Very obviously, yes. Does that mean that he thinks his enmity now was in any way called for? Absolutely not!

“Well, what did Darkrai look like, then?” Grovyle asks, and Darkrai is just about to answer when he realizes… Wait a moment. His eyes narrow.

“How would you know?” he asks back, “You could not see it from your bound position.” He thinks a little. Was there a moment where Grovyle could have seen him? Maybe while he was freeing Pearl… But he was being so careful! So then, when…?

Grovyle stare at him and finally uncrosses his arms to shrug. “Trick question.”

“You—!” Darkrai starts, but Pearl speaks up, interrupting him, and he… well, he lets her. He needs to regain her favour somehow.

“But like, if you saw it, we’d actually be interested in knowing what it looked like.”

Darkrai stares at her, then sighs. He really wanted to keep his true form as secret as possible, and that has just become impossible. Even worse, he now has to describe himself as if it was some… some stranger.

“Somewhat tall,” he starts, “Not quite double the height of Grovyle here, though.”

“Smaller than Dusknoir?” Grovyle asks, and Darkrai nods. Unfortunately.

“Mostly a dark colour, white hair, a red collar.” He stops. Should he tell them the eye colour? No. No, ‘Darcy’ would have been too far away to clearly make it out.

“Shape?” Grovyle prompts, really making Darkrai feel as if this is an interrogation. This is just so… He does not want to describe himself!

“Humanoid, I would say. A thin waist,” he adds, because to be honest, he has never seen a human with a waist as thin as his. He has also never seen a human which looked like him, which is not surprising, because he is not a human.

“Are you sure it was not a human, then?” Grovyle asks. Darkrai has to hold back a splutter. What of his description made it seem like he might be a human?!

“It was most definitely not.” And then, he has an idea and sighs deeply.

He looks at Pearl. “Do you remember when an unknown Pokémon attacked the guild and knocked me out while it fled?”

Pearl’s eyes widen in immediate understanding. “That was Darkrai?”

Darkrai, the just-now-named, nods. “Most definitely.”

“That… is worrying,” she answers, and her mien reflects the worry she spoke of. Darkrai also tries to looks somewhat grim, but well. Emotions have never shown easily on his face and even worse on the illusion, and besides, it is hard for him to be worried about his own presence. He likes his own presence. Not his fault if he causes fears in others. On accident or purpose.

“What is more worrying is that, apparently, you just want to allow this… traitor close to both of us,” Grovyle throws in, while simultaneously throwing Darkrai an angry glare. Darkrai reciprocates it.

Pearl sighs. “Yeah, I know. But as I told you, taking him along really does not change anything.”

“He might tell Dusknoir where a friend-, a confidant of mine lives!”

“Oh, is that where we are going?” Pearl asks, and what? Did she just follow Grovyle with no idea where they were heading?!

… That does sound quite a lot like Pearl, actually.

“Maybe,” Grovyle huffs, crossing his arms once again.

“And you think that if I had wanted to find that out, I could not have just shadowed you?” Darkrai asks, “You think I would not have spared myself all that arguing?”

“I think you thought you’d be received much more happily,” Grovyle huffs, but it is clear from his voice that he has to agree with Darkrai, and that he does not like that at all.

Darkrai allows himself a short laugh. “Please. I am quite aware of all the ways I did wrong. But right now, the only thing I really want to do is get back to the past.” He shrugs. “I never wanted to be here in the first place. Dusknoir just had other plan and decided to force them on me.”

It is easy, he realizes, to get others to believe you if you can put the blame on someone they already greatly dislike. He has known that for a long time, of course, but still, to see in action how willing even Grovyle is to accept that, yes, indeed, Dusknoir is to blame. Darkrai might have made questionable decision, but ultimately, without Dusknoir, none of them would ever have been needed in the first place.

Pearl speaks up, then. “Alright. Are you okay with taking Darcy along, Grovyle?” she asks, and what?! She lets Grovyle make that decision?!

Grovyle is silent for a while, occasionally staring at Darkrai, and then looking at Pearl again. “I’d really rather not,” he admits, “But I get why you think we should take him. He will have to go in the front, though, I won’t let myself be hit in the back by him.”

“Obviously,” Pearl says, before Darkrai even has a chance to object. He does not want to go in the front! That’s the most dangerous position!

“And we won’t share any vital information with him,” Grovyle adds, “Or he’ll use it to hurt us.”

“Nothing you don’t want shared will be shared,” Pearl assuages. Darkrai holds back a scoff. As if he could not just find out in a different way.

Finally, Grovyle’s shoulders slump, and he huffs. “Well, then I guess we will have to take him along.” He pauses, and then, a threat in his words, adds, “For now.”

 

Notes:

[News: Local Bastard not as unaffected by personal affairs then he previously let on! Tune in to hear all about it!]
[Darkrai: So I take my emotions, right, and I put them behind a wall until I’m ready to deal with them. And then, once I’m ready, I dig a hole and throw them in and never look at them again.]
[Darkrai: Life hack, it’s not gaslighting if you do it to yourself]

So… hi. Great to finally throw this chapter out.
First of all, I wanna apologize for how long it took. While I know that all of you are always incredibly patient and never fault me for taking longer to publish the next chapter, I still feel bad for taking so very long, no matter whether I have what I, personally, deign ‘good’ reasons or not. So yeah. I’m sorry for that, and thank you all so very much for just allowing me this time.

Secondly, I have some good, but also bad news. It is actually just one set of news, but they are both good and bad, I guess? Without further ado: I will go into a little hiatus with this story.
Over the last few months, writing has become progressively harder, because I have not had the time to go through the already-posted chapters – to fix the mistakes I know are there, to edit some things to be clearer, to change some things to align more with what will happen later. In simpler terms: I’ve lost the overview over the story, to a certain degree. And while I know that I could keep writing and still throw out good things, I just WANT to go through what has already been written and polish it. Not immensely, but just so that I can regain a good overview.
So that’s what this hiatus will be for – I will go through the posted chapters, editing out mistakes. There won’t be any big changes to the story, don’t worry! And if there are, I will make sure to write them down and say what I did at the end of the edited chapter. It would probably just be a little more foreshadowing for future events. Who knows.
So, yeah.
I will try my best to end this hiatus around October or November, and under no circumstances will I allow it to go on longer than to the 1st of January, 2023. So, if nothing has happened until then, know that I will either post a new chapter, or add something to this note to explain what’s going on.

That having been said, thank you all so immensely for each and every interaction with this fic – the kudos and bookmarks, the comments and conversations, the fanarts, just. Everything. I adore all of you incredibly much, and just can't yet (or ever) wrap my head around what an amazing bunch of people read my fanfic. So, from the bottom of my heart, the deepest depths of my soul, thank you all incredibly much

 

(Edit 02.12.2022: Just to those who are interested in knowing, and happened to look at this end note again (or for the first time, for the lucky ones): The editing is (obviously) taking me much longer than I anticipated. However, there WILL be a new chapter uploaded by the end of December/beginning of January, yay! Everything else in regards to the continuation of the fic will be talked about at length, then, but just wanted to let y'all know. So you have something to look forward to, after the draught of chapter-less months.)

Chapter 22: Al-lie-ance

Summary:

Last Chapter: After Darkrai’s impromptu-plan of saving Grovyle and Pearl in his original form went somewhat awry, he was confronted by Dusknoir, but managed to cheat the gallows yet again. One of Dusknoir’s henchmen, however, became afflicted with an endless nightmare, and in a search for information about a cure, Dusknoir tricked Darkrai into meeting Primal Dialga, something Darkrai managed to survive yet again. Dusknoir and Darkrai then came up with a plan to let Darkrai help with healing the suffering Sableye, and Darkrai on his own managed to reunite with Pearl and Grovyle. Although he was not received happily, he was allowed to tag along.

Notes:

More Fanart! Because people are awesome!

One is by the ever-amazing CandlitNights, and based on Chapter 9, you can find it here: https://www.deviantart.com/missowlit/art/Would-You-Consider-Paying-Bail-927109723

The next one is by the wonderful “Ferdie :)”, depicting a scene from Chapter 21, you can find it here: https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/932758712064552970/1023399526733721651/86F50382-612E-4AB6-A4BC-BEF50CD28294.png

The last one is by the one with still the greatest name, Primal Dialga, who drew Darcy, which you can find here: https://imgur.com/a/jleAUAS
Thank you so very much, everyone, for gifting me with all this beautiful art <3

“That was a… really creepy Pokémon,” Pearl remarks from where she is sitting right next to Grovyle, massaging his back in calming circles.

And while Darkrai would not agree with that specific sentiment, per se, he can agree that the Spiritomb they just encountered was most definitely not pleasant company. Grovyle probably knows that best, having been on the receiving end of the almost-feral Pokémon’s attempt of possessing someone else’s body.

Fortunately for the annoying grass-type, Darkrai is most assuredly stronger than any Spiritomb. Even when tired, and treated as a traitor. Yet still, he saved Grovyle.

‘Thank you very much, Duskull’, no one told him, and, ‘You saved our lives’ also went unsaid. That is not how it is supposed to go, is it?

No, it really is not. The mistrusted character is supposed to save the lives of those who mistrust him – which Darkrai did just now – and after that, they will realize that, yes, he is definitely on their side. That is how stakes and pay-off are supposed to work!

But the way Pearl and Grovyle have positioned themselves – to the side, far away from Darkrai – and how both of them remain tense while staring at him… Makes it clear that this is not so.

And from Grovyle, Darkrai did not expect anything less. But Pearl…

Pearl should not have to look at him so very guarded. She is… She is supposed to trust him! And she agreed to let him tag along, did she not? He defended both of them against Spiritomb! Why do they look like they expect him to now… attack them or something?

Ugh. Darkrai should have just let Spiritomb possess Grovyle and kill him in the process. That way, Pearl would only have Darkrai to rely on, anymore. Because then, she would not be able to ally herself with Grovyle, would not look at Darkrai as if she is expecting him to… sic Dusknoir on her or something.

But no, he just had to help, because he thought Pearl would not even think of ever forgiving him if he let Grovyle die. Great help that was. Now Grovyle can just keep making her distrust Darkrai.

At least the Spiritomb got the message, and behaved as they were supposed to – fleeing the moment Darkrai almost knocked them out, seeming very much frightened for their ghostly life. Lives? Whatever. Darkrai can feel the days of no sleep trying to catch up with him, and he has better things to spend his energy on than trying to figure out the correct grammatical terms when it comes to a Spiritomb he will never see again.

“Spiritomb always are,” Grovyle suddenly says, then coughs. Pearl continues rubbing circles on his back. “Well, guess it’s just ghosts in general,” Grovyle adds, interrupted by another cough. Darkrai narrows his eyes. He may not really be a ghost-type, but that was most definitely a dig at him.

He cannot have that, and so, he speaks up. “Certainly, Spiritomb tend to be rather… interesting in their behaviour. But ordinary ghost-types are generally not made up of 108 banished souls, you know?”

“Doesn’t make them less nasty.” Grovyle has finally turned his head in Darkrai’s direction, looking him directly in the eye. This is a challenge, that much is obvious. Pearl looks between them, her eyebrows drawn together in obvious worry. Well, she does not need to feel that way. Darkrai does not plan on killing Grovyle… yet. As he made clear by literally saving him.

“Oh yes, let us just act as if every ghost is evil, why don’t we?” Darkrai stares at Grovyle, curious what he will now say. Will he insist that an entire group of Pokémon is just that? Or will he backtrack? The first case would definitely be better. Because then, Pearl could see that Darkrai is definitely the better friend, little betrayals now and then aside.

Grovyle tries to speak up, but ends up with a coughing fit instead. Magnanimously, Darkrai gives him time to pull himself together again.

“Not evil,” Grovyle finally says with a rough voice, and darn, there goes Darkrai’s hope of him seeming like an inconsiderate jerk in front of Pearl, “In Spiritomb’s case, their behaviour was… predictable. They were probably rather upset over us trespassing in their territory. But they fled when the situation turned sour.” He sighs. “Normally, I guess, Spiritomb are timid Pokémon. But the circumstances, this whole world… it makes many Pokémon bitter and twisted. Living in perpetual darkness, with the threat of death always looming close… It’s hard not to just accept it and become the same.”

“Oh,” Pearl finally speaks up, “That’s… sad. So, the Pokémon here are just bad because… of the perpetual darkness?”

“Mostly. Not all, some have… different reasons.” Grovyle stares at Darkrai as his says this. For a moment, Darkrai wishes he could just reveal his true identity to show Grovyle that Darkrai is the one behind this world being as it is. But the moment he thinks about an alternate self creating this world, he also remembers… remembers…

(KILLED HIM… KILLED HER…)

He does not allow himself to shudder. Instead, he focuses on the here and now again, and looks at Grovyle, who took a pause to cough, and is now about to speak again.

“But yeah. Most Pokémon here are simply shaped so twisted and evil by the circumstances, ” Grovyle explains. He really moved his head out of the noose expertly. Then, to undermine everything he just said and the image he created, he coughs again. Pearl pats his back.

Darkrai meanwhile… does not find himself agreeing entirely with what Grovyle said.

Not every aggressive Pokémon is shaped by its circumstances. And, sure, Grovyle somewhat acknowledged that. But… But it feels as if Grovyle does not understand, not really, the difference between twisted and evil.

Because someone can be twisted without being evil, and vise-versa. Take Darkrai, for example. His ability of forcing nightmares upon others, as well as other abilities, was there from the moment he was born. And since that time, too, his abilities were considered… bad. Cruel. Twisted.

But still, Darkrai was not twisted by his abilities. Because at first, he did not even fit them at all. But he chose to change that, to change himself, to see his full potential come through. If he had stayed as he was, he would have stayed weak and useless. But he… he was not twisted by anything. He decided to become who he is now. He did.

And… And those, for example, who did not change… remained behind, and were punished for it. Like Cresselia, who was given the best cards, but never thought to use them in the right way. And now look at her. Weaker than Darkrai, and her treatment by others relies entirely on how useful she can make herself to them.

And that is the difference. Some are shaped by circumstances, and others choose to shape themselves despite the circumstances. And those who just let the circumstances shape them… End up weak like the Spiritomb.

And so, the Spiritomb was not evil, no. Because…

“Evil needs intention.”

As both Pearl and Grovyle look at him, confusion clear in their eyes, he realizes that he should not have said that out loud. But it is too late to take the words back.

“What do you mean?” Pearl asks, the confusion still so very apparent, even in her voice. Alongside something… Darkrai cannot name. Does not want to name.

He should not have let himself speak his thoughts.

“There is a difference between twisted and evil,” he starts, even though he knows that he should not explain, “Spiritomb was most definitely a bad Pokémon – their actions might be explained away with the circumstances, but that does not change that their actions were bad. But the circumstances are also where the difference lies – Spiritomb acted on instinct and emotions. They let themselves become a mere vessel for their circumstances… And thus became twisted. But something, someone who is evil… will often act against instinct and emotion, will act even through the knowledge, the awareness that what they’re doing would be considered bad. They will not necessarily think that what they’re doing is for the good of others, or even their own good, and still, they will do it.”

… No, what is he saying? This is not what he meant, because…

“Someone who is twisted… might not know that they are. Someone who is evil…”

What is he even trying to accomplish with these words?

“They will… realize that they are considered as such, but they will not care. They will not care at all.”

“… Darcy?” Pearl’s voice breaks through whatever strange haze he suddenly found himself in, and he shakes himself. Just because what one does is considered evil does not mean that one should not be allowed to do it.

Just because it might harm anyone but one being, does not mean that it… should not be done.

(… Right?)

Darkrai accepted that he would be seen as evil a long time ago. Being seen as evil is not the same as being evil. And he does not care about what others think. He is not bad, he is not twisted, he is not evil!

Violently, he shakes himself a second time, his hair flying wildly around. For a few blessed moments, he cannot even tell where up and down is, anymore. Then, reality crashes back in.

“Can you walk again, Grovyle?” he asks, tone empty. He can’t help it.

“I can,” Grovyle answers, and to prove his point, he stands up. His legs seem shaky, but since he does not fall over, Darkrai considers him good enough.

“Then we should press on.”

A nod from the Grass Type is the only answer he gets. Pearl, for some reason, does not break the ensuing silence.

And so, they continue.

 

“Hey, so, one thing I’ve been wondering about, Darcy…” Pearl starts, and he already prepares himself for uncomfortable questions, and of course, she delivers, “But I’ve noticed that you’re carrying what looks like our old bag.”

Darkrai takes a slow breath. “It is.”

“… Cool. So where did you get it?”

Alright. Alright, just blame Dusknoir. Blaming Dusknoir is the easiest way out, and besides, he is mostly to blame for this. “Apparently, Dusknoir found it not far from where I was knocked out, but decided to keep it, for some reason.”

“And you found it, or…?”

That would be a good lie to tell, but Darkrai has already decided to blame Dusknoir, so more truth it is. Pearl should be thankful.

He shakes his head. Or maybe his body. Who knows, with this illusion. “No. Dusknoir gave it to me, because…”

Darn it. He should have just said he found it. Now he does not have a reason for why Dusknoir gave it to him, because he really does not want to pose as his own servant again, and he also does not want to make it seem like he worked for himself already in the past. Pearl would really not like that.

“Because?” Pearl prompts.

Darkrai shrugs. “I am not sure. He actually did not explain, so I just assumed that I passed some unspoken test of his.”

Grovyle scoffs. “Oh, you mean like helping him execute us?”

“I did not—”

“Stop!” Pearl shouts, before they even have the chance to properly start arguing. “Just… stop. If Darcy won’t tell, then he won’t tell. We really don’t need to keep bringing up stuff he won’t explain.”

“You were the one getting him to talk about that bag, though.”

“Yes, and I deeply regret having been curious. Can we move on, now?”

 

Travelling together is uncomfortable, to put it mildly. Having to walk in front of Grovyle and Pearl constantly is partly responsible for that, of course, but… To be entirely honest, it is just a small drop in an ocean of awkwardness. Because far too often, quiet whispers are shared between Grovyle and Pearl. Darkrai cannot make out what they are saying, which is by design – he is very obviously being excluded.

It reminds him of old times, when he would still try to find connection with others, and be denied just like this again and again. Back then, it hurt. Now, he is above feeling like that, of course. But he still hates that it is happening.

Maybe he should have stayed with Dusknoir. Or maybe, he should have found his own way back to the past. With how screwed time is, here, he could certainly open a Dimensional Hole. Maybe, if he had appealed enough to Uxie and Azelf, they would have put in a good word for him once Pearl inevitably came back. About how sorry he was, and how scared he had been, and so on.

… But on second thought, both Uxie, as well as Azelf, would have immediately realized that Darkrai would never be scared of a mere Dusknoir. Even if he is a strong Dusknoir. And, with differing politeness, they would have called him out on it, and, with differing persistence, they would have tried to get to the bottom of the issue. And since Darkrai is still the one who brought about the fall of Temporal Tower, letting them look too deep is something he could not allow.

So it would have turned into another failed plan. Wonderful to know that he is so bad at planning, apparently.

Well, he is not. He did not follow that plan, proving that he’s better than that—

Oh, who is he trying to fool? No one can hear what he is thinking, anyways. The truth is, his recent plans have been bad, one worse than the other. Even his past plans, those he considered quite good until recently, seem very badly thought out now. Bring about Temporal Tower’s collapse? He should have seen the emergence of Primal Dialga from miles away. Should have known that, once Primal Dialga existed, Darkrai would only be able to hide, and once he was found…

The echo of words he does not want to recall flickers through his mind.

So, yes. A bad plan. And there were so many others just like it.

But what use is crying over his past failures? Obviously, he is still too weak. He will have to change that, and he can start with his own emotions. Since when has he let the whisperings of others knock his mood down, huh? Weak. So very, very weak.

And with thoughts like these, Darkrai forces himself onwards. At least there aren’t any more Mystery Dungeons on their way, according to Grovyle – and at least on his knowledge of this rotten future’s geography, Darkrai will believe him to know more. The grass-type estimated that they would need about five to six hours of just walking to reach their next destination – what that is, he did not want to explain more than to say that it is ‘a forest’.

So, with how long they have already been walking, at least four more hours until they arrive there, Darkrai wagers.

Behind him, he can hear Grovyle and Pearl whisper a little louder for a few moments—

“Then couldn’t we just—”

“No, he’s—”

But at the slightest turn of Darkrai’s head, just to maybe listen in a little better, they fall quiet. So that translates well through the illusion. Great to know.

And he will continue to be excluded. Also great to know.

Thus, Darkrai just keeps walking in the front of their little group – and by now, he is literally walking. He’s… tired, he thinks. Not so tired that he really needs to sleep, because he can go for far longer… But tired in the way that his body has become much too heavy to move without the help of his legs. Which is exhausting, too, but at least he has a little more assurance that he won’t keel over and fall flat on his face.

“Sooo,” a voice speaks up next to him, and if Darkrai would’ve had any energy left, he would’ve jumped in surprise. Like this, he just turns his head a little too sharply.

Pearl looks at him, her mien unreadable. “What did Dusknoir and you get up to?”

Darkrai stares at her. She can’t have forgiven him so easily, can she? No. No, obviously not. It is apparent that she has not – because her mien is not just unreadable because Darkrai is tired, he realizes, but because she is guarding her emotions. And she must be guarding them because she is still very much angry at him.

This is like the time after their argument, again, just… worse.

Because she is fishing for information, and Darkrai cannot trust himself to not say things he will regret soon after.

“What do you want to hear?” he throws back, immediately on his toes - and before she has a chance to accuse him of anything, his tongue has run its course without his actual input, “That we went to frolic in some fields? That we attacked unsuspecting Pokémon, for the fun of it? That we—”

“No!” she interrupts, her eyebrows drawn together. “I’m not accusing you! I’m just trying to talk to you!”

Darkrai stares at her. “Oh,” he breaths, and then, he admits, “I… Guess I didn’t realize.” He still does not quite believe her.

“Yeah. Obviously.”

Normally, he would tell her not to be so sarcastic, but… He does not dare. An olive branch has been offered, and he should not refuse it. Doesn’t want to refuse it.

… He is just not sure if he will be able to grab it, even if he intends to.

“He… Well.” Darkrai does not know what he should tell her, or what he wants to tell her and Grovyle. Because Grovyle is most definitely listening in. And if Darkrai now refuses to elaborate, they will think him still firmly an ally to Dusknoir.

But… But Darkrai does not want to go too much into detail. Not to keep Dusknoir’s secrets safe, of course. But there are things that Darkrai really thinks they should not know about, like… like Primal Dialga. So he needs to keep that secret. Just like some other things.

And he really would love to have the time to sieve through all that has happened since he landed here, to become aware as to what he can safely tell them, and what he should not.

He does not have the time for that. And he needs to answer, because he needs their trust.

How troublesome.

“He showed me the stockade, after I woke up. Well, most of it. He obviously didn’t-, did not want me looking at the cells.” He stares straight ahead. What else can he tell them? He needs to be careful – he can feel himself getting tired, and he has quite a loose lip whenever he is. “Forced me to engage with his Sableye, too. That was horrid,” he allows himself to add, but rues it the next moment, when Grovyle speaks up.

“Oh yeah, I bet it was so horrible.”

“Guys, please,” Pearl is quick to intervene, “Let’s just… not? Yeah?”

Grovyle falls silent, then, but Darkrai imagines him rolling his eyes. It is certainly what he would like to do.

“I wasn’t the one stirring up—”

“Darcy. Please.” Pearl stares at him, and even though her words sound exasperated, her eyes are only pleading.

Darkrai looks away, deciding that one of the cliffsides is much more interesting to stare at. They have been growing smaller during their travel, and Darkrai is sure that, soon enough, they will be replaced. By what, he is not quite sure yet – maybe a dead steppe, or barren fields, as Dusknoir dreamt them up what feels so very long ago. Or maybe there will be some trees. Who knows?

“Thanks,” Pearl says, after Darkrai has been quiet for long enough, probably. There is nothing to thank him for, but he does not tell her that.

“You know, one thing I’ve been wondering about,” she then starts, and Darkrai stops his inspection of the cliffside to look at her instead, a bad feeling clawing its way up his chest, “Just why did Dusknoir treat us so differently? Like, why decide that I need to be killed, but treat you like his… best friend or something?”

“Best friend?” Darkrai scoffs, trying to change the topic as fast as he can, “If you truly believe that, then you misread our relationship quite badly.”

“Well, call it whatever,” Pearl says, not responding to it at all, “It doesn’t change that he treated us totally different. And it can’t have been just because you’re a ghost, because then, he’d probably have pulled Dareios into the future, too.”

“Dareios?” Grovyle asks.

Darkrai really does not feel like answering, but… Ugh. Of course he has to. “My cousin,” he explains, because look at him, he has a totally real cousin, he is definitely a real Duskull.

“And who knows?” Darkrai then asks, in regards to Pearl’s statement, “I certainly don’t understand how Dusknoir thinks.”

“Don’t you, though?” As instigating as the question was, its effect is lessened by Pearl’s deep sigh after. “The thing is, Darcy… We spent roughly the same amount of time with Dusknoir, in the past. Except for when I retrieved the Water Float together with him, but I really don’t think I did anything to make him hate me that much, back then.”

Darkrai hates this conversation. Darkrai hates most conversations where he has to lie to make others ignore the past lies he’s told. And this conversation is quickly shaping out to becoming exactly that.

If only there was a way to tell a truth others would want to hear. But no, Darkrai can only lie, and lie, and lie, or else he will be disdained. Not that he isn’t, already, with his lies. But… But it’s less. Lies bring disdain, but truth brings hate.

“So what?” he finally questions, intent to play dumb to her insinuations, no matter how much he might dislike downplaying himself.

“So you probably met him sometime Piplup wasn’t around, is what she’s trying to say,” Grovyle, the infuriating, says.

“What kind of inquisition is this?” Darkrai throws back. Distraction is his only salvation, because truth will be his downfall.

“One that’s probably been long overdue,” Grovyle, the still-infuriating, tells him. Darkrai throws him an angry glare, but Grovyle does not seem moved by it.

“Well, too bad for you, because I do not intend to—”

“Darcy,” Pearl speaks up, and she sounds so very, very tired, “I’m… trying to trust you again, okay? But I think you’ve told quite some lies, and they’ve piled up, and…”

“She’s offering you a way out,” Grovyle explains, and then adds a murmured, “Not that you deserve it.”

Darkrai throws him another angry glare. Grovyle ignores it once again.

This… Alright. Alright, this is good. He thinks. Not Grovyle, of course, he can see that he has lost whatever minimal amount of trust he had built up with him. But Pearl shows herself willing to forgive him, once again.

It, of course, goes unsaid that he needs to tell her the right story for that. Yet again. And figuring that out… has become progressively harder, the more lies he built atop of other lies. Necessary lies, of course. Always necessary lies.

But so many that he cannot see the sky anymore, standing underneath the tower they have become.

So what should he tell Pearl? What does she want to hear? What does Grovyle want to hear? What will be something both of them will accept as truth?

“Are you okay?” someone asks. Darkrai slowly turns to look at them – Pearl. Obviously. Grovyle does not like him very much, and would never ask such a mundane question.

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Okay… Because you’ve stopped walking. Floating. Whatever.”

“Oh. So I did.” And Darkrai turns to walk anew, because if he stops now, he’ll just sit down, or maybe even fall asleep. He is not too tired, yet, obviously. He can still function. But he is… exhausted. And this conversation on top of that does not make it easier.

He takes a deep breath and stares not at Pearl or Grovyle as he speaks. “Dusknoir… Well. The night after we had that argument, he searched me out. Supposedly on your behalf.”

That much, he can safely admit. He thinks. Even if telling the truth tastes disgusting. Because either Pearl or Grovyle will find something in that story, even if it is truth, which will make it seem like Darkrai did the wrong thing.

“And?” Grovyle prompts, because he does not know him as well as Pearl. Because he does not know that, sometimes, Darkrai needs to gather his thoughts, needs to fit his lies just the right way in-between the truth. And now, he can’t do that anymore, and so, he speaks without thinking.

“And I told him that he is a bad liar.”

A beat of silence, and then, Pearl just asks, “What?”

“Which probably made him drop the act.” He sighs. That, at least, is some of the truth. But more, he will  not, cannot give. “I do understand that you think there might be more to it, but I really think he just likes having a fellow ghost, especially from his own species, around. And because of that he overshared. About this future.”

“So why didn’t you just tell—”

“We’d just had our argument!” Darkrai interrupts, because this is a great way to explain away his behaviour. “And then, we got busy trying to save Mesprit and Azelf’s lives from that guy, if you have forgotten.” He looks at Grovyle, who, at least this once, has the courtesy to look the tiniest bit chastised. The next moment, he glares at Darkrai again.

Pearl, however, does not seem intent on just accepting that perfect explanation. “And the days after that?”

Darkrai looks away. There is no explanation he can give that she would be satisfied with, he already knows. Maybe he should just stay quiet, but… But he knows Pearl, and he knows that not saying anything will enrage her just as much as a bad excuse will. So he might as well try making it a half-good one. “I… Was afraid how it would paint me, to share it only after that much time had already passed. Dusknoir had so very much influence in town, if he had wanted to paint me as the villain, he could have easily done so. Who would have believed me over him?”

She is quick to answer. “Dareios, definitely. And Uxie, too, probably. And Azelf, he likes you. Oh, and I would have believed you!”

Darkrai can’t hold back a cold laugh. “And you would have gotten angry that it took me so long to tell you. I thought I would just ignore the situation, wait until it had grown over.”

“Grown over? Dusknoir was trying to… to…!”

“Keep this future from changing,” Grovyle ends the sentence Pearl struggles with. “Which you aided him in, by just not doing anything about it.”

“I warned the Lake Guardians,” Darkrai immediately defends, and realizes the next moment that this was, as always, the wrong thing to say. Because his relationship with them is still a tender topic for Pearl, and just by throwing her a quick glance, he can see her anger rise.

It seems like the emotion is going to explode outwards, the next moment, and Darkrai braces himself—

“Great. Then I’m happy for them, that they, at least, deserve the truth.” Pearl seems awfully collected as she says this. Darkrai does not trust the calm, and so, he forces himself to not say anything at all. He knows himself well enough to be aware that, whatever he could say, it would be a mistake.

Which does not matter, anyways, because Grovyle chooses that moment to chime in, as if his opinion actually matters. “You’re a real shit friend, you know that?” He makes it sound as if he actually despises Darkrai for that. It only angers Darkrai. “Well, friend’s really not the right word to use. How about backstabber? No, wait, you’re actually good at that—”

“Shut your mouth!” Darkrai interrupts him, “You--, you have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Don’t I?” Grovyle growls back, “Because it’s pretty obvious that you’re just tagging along because you think your chances of survival are higher with us, just as you banded together with Dusknoir when things looked rosier on his side! And—”

“No!” Darkrai shouts, his fluency fleeing as the anger bursts forth, “No, I didn’t!”

“—And now, you just want us to pretend nothing ever happened! That you didn’t lie to someone who was your friend at every chance you got, betrayed her to the worst degree. Because just pretending that you did nothing wrong is easier for you!”

“You don’t understand anything!” he objects, and he just-, just wants. Wants to pull Grovyle into a nightmare, wants to shut him up for eternity, wants to go back to the easy life in Treasure Town, wants to return to a point in his life where he wasn’t quite such a monster, wants to have Pearl trust him again, and wants to-, and wants-, and—

“So stop lying and explain!” Grovyle shouts, and—

And Darkrai looks away, because he knows that he can’t. He… he really can’t.

No one says anything for a while. No one moves, for a while.

“Because you don’t trust me, do you?” No longer does Pearl sound calm, but now, broken instead. Darkrai would feel bad for that, but… But he cannot trust her. She is right about that. Even if he wanted to do so, he knows that the moment she sees through his lies, she will hate him. Just as everyone does.

And so, the only thing he can do is to push back, to not let her come close enough to catch even a glimpse of that which lies beneath. Better to have her know that he tells lies, than have her know the truth they hide.

“Just as you do not trust me,” he drawls, his tone icy in a way he had not spoken to her in weeks. It will be the only way she will understand to stay away. “Trust is a fallacy. Congratulations on learning the centuries old lesson, even if a little late.”

Grovyle seems to try saying something, but his voice is drowned out by Pearl’s voice, an emotionless tone.  “Let’s move on. I just want to… get away from here.” Her voice breaks.

And without another glance back, she starts walking. Grovyle follows soon after, and Darkrai, now in the rear… continues standing where he was, just staring at their backs. Why… Why did he ever think that…

Finally, Pearl turns around and looks at him.

Ah, whatever.

Then, he moves too, not deigning to look at either as he overtakes them again.

 

A little over two hours later, Darkrai’s inner clock tells him, they find themselves at the outskirts of a spruce forest. ‘Forest’ being used very loosely, here. It’s not much more than trees starting to stand closer together than previously. In fact, if it was just these trees, and the proper forest could not be spotted further ahead, Darkrai would not count these trees as a forest. Too far apart, too tiny, not enough undergrowth to make up for the lack of density. The grass here has lost all qualities which would make it seem like part of a forest, and instead seems stiff and strawy. A little bit like grass after too many arid days… just even deader.

He had never considered how very much forests relied on their colours to seem alive. How much they had to be filled with noises of all kinds, and movement in the corner of one’s eye. Only now that all of that is missing, does he realize.

And alongside that, he realizes…

He hates this world.

He hates the future, hates everything which has to do with it. Hates the unnatural quiet, hates the Pokémon it gave birth to, the hierarchy it established, hates the many deaths which led to this.

In a way, he feels like he cannot be as tired as he feels, because he is already having a nightmare.

But unfortunately, he is still awake. It feels unreal, in a way. As if… as if everything he perceives is tilted to the left. Or thinned out, in a way which sometimes happens in dreams. Dreams in which things are not portrayed as they are, but he cannot change them, no matter how often he tells himself that it’s a dream, of course he can change it. But he just looks at things which are wrong, and they do not change.

It feels like… like a summer day at the south coast with an overcast sky and a grey ocean. Not impossible, but wrong, so very wrong.

He stumbles and is violently pulled out of whatever thoughts he just had. He tries to recall – something about… about what? – but just can’t do it. He knows that he thought about something right now, but his previous train of thought is lost to him.

He looks at the forest instead. Under normal circumstances, he’d now turn towards Grovyle, ask if this is the forest he wanted to get to, ask if it has a name. But… He can’t. No one had attempted to speak to him for the last hours, of course, and he… well. Darkrai just ignored that, just as he ignored when their whispered conversations started again. And the further they walked, the easier it became.

He’d started dragging his feet, at some point, because lifting them became too hard. Had stopped trying to occasionally listen in to what the other two were talking about, because almost all noises had started to be filtered out by his tired mind. Even stopped thinking about most things, besides which foot to move forward.

He’s tired. He’s really, really, tired.

He thinks he hasn’t been this tired for literal years, but he’s not sure, anymore.

Someone – Grovyle, he guesses – says something, but Darkrai is too slow to notice, and misses the words. Only the noise filters through, and even that just barely.

“What?”

“I said that this is Dusk Forest,” Grovyle, definitely Grovyle, says. He sounds… whatever. Angry, probably. He tends to, when talking to Darkrai. Most Pokémon tend to.

“But there’s no sun,” Darkrai tells him, because there isn’t. He made sure of that, unfortunately. The sky’s been overcast, probably since time stopped. Or maybe, it is not overcast, and there is another explanation for the eternally black sky, showing not even stars. Maybe there is… fog instead. But isn’t fog like clouds, just very low—

“… No, there isn’t.” Grovyle answers after a long pause, and Darkrai isn’t sure if he’s actually talking slowly, or if Darkrai’s mind is just… slow? Fast? He’s not sure. “The name comes from the fog that perpetually shrouds it.”

“But fog isn’t the dusk,” Darkrai objects. “I mean, if Dusknoir lived here, I guess the name would make sense. But why isn’t it Fog Forest, then?”

There is silence, and once again, Darkrai isn’t sure if it’s his only that long in his perception, or if it really is.

“Does it matter? Dusknoir may still send someone else after us, so I think moving on should be more of a priority than figuring out why Dusk Forest is named Dusk Forest.” Grovyle finally answers, and Darkrai shakes his head violently. Which is a bad idea, because the world starts spinning the moment he does so. He steps a little forward and leans against a tree to stay upright. It’s good that it’s a spruce with a high trunk, or else he would have just thrown himself into the branches. Like this, they just remain above his head. As they should.

“Of course it matters,” he then explains, after a second or ten minutes, he cannot be sure, “It’s named horribly.”

“Darcy, I really don’t think we need to argue that right now.”

“I’m not arguing,” Darkrai tells Pearl, trying to look in her direction. Making her out should be easy, what with her blue colour against a dark world, but his eye still moves around confused for a while. Why’s… Why is this so hard?

“Okay. You are not,” she agrees, “Can we move on now?”

“Sure. Sure, yeah,” Darkrai agrees, because he’s been moving for hours now. He can move for even more hours. He could even move through Dungeons, he’s sure. He does not try to move, though, because… “I’ll take the rear now.”

“What?” Grovyle asks, anger clear in his voice. “No, you won’t!”

“Yes, I will,” Darkrai tells him, because he will. “The forest’s name is stupid, so I’ll take up the rear.”

This time, he’s sure, he does not imagine the silence.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Pearl finally admits. Which just shows that Darkrai is still way smarter than her.

“Yes it does.”

“It really, really doesn’t.”

“Of course it does.” And because Darkrai is nice, he will explain. “See, the forest is named Dusk Forest. But there’s no dusk here. So I need to walk behind you two.”

It is really quite logical.

Grovyle groans out loud, for some reason. “Alright,” he says, “Okay. Piplup, I think the ghost’s actually sleep deprived.”

“I’m not,” Darkrai says, which is a little lie he likes to tell.

Pearl stares at him. “When did you sleep last, Darcy?”

Darkrai thinks about it. He really, really thinks about it. Staring at one of the trees frozen in time, he thinks about it. It really is quite strange to see a tree which does not move in the slightest, isn’t it? Not even the tiniest movement. Of course, there’s no wind to move it, but still, it’s strange. Also, Darkrai thinks that even without wind, leaves like to move. How, he doesn’t know. He could ask… Xerneas, maybe. They don’t hate him too much. Virizion is out, and so is Enamorus. These two would just attack him on sight. Maybe Zarude? Depends on which one, there is a chance of two in three that he will be attacked on sight.

It really is not fair, though. What happened wasn’t his fault. He stares at the ground, where unmoving dirt lies. If it’s unmoving, does that mean that—

“Darcy?” Pearl stares at him, something in her eyes. Concern? Emotions, in general?

“Huh?”

“I asked when you last slept.”

When did he last sleep? He can go quite long without sleep, even if he does strenuous things. Like hurrying through Dungeons all alone. Or being forced to meet Primal Dialga. Or hating Dusknoir.

“Duskull!” Someone shouting violently pulls him out of his very important thoughts. “It’s a simple question, just tell her!”

“What’s a simple question?” Darkrai asks, honestly no clue. Wait. Wait, maybe the question is old. The question must’ve been asked way earlier. So… “I’m really not sure if fog counts as low-hanging clouds or not. Clouds have never interested me.”

Someone groans. Someone else takes a deep breath.

“Okay. Get up,” Grovyle says, standing before Darkrai. Get up? But—

Darkrai realizes that he must have sat down, at some point. He forces himself to stand up. Then, he tells Grovyle off. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Grovyle seems like he is about to say something, but then just shakes his head. “We’re moving into the forest. And then you, Duskull, are going to lie down and sleep for a little while.”

“But I’m not tired,” Darkrai tells Grovyle, and he looks towards Pearl for support. “I don’t need too much sleep.”

Pearl snorts. “Sure you don’t. But I agree with Grovyle. You can’t even think straight, anymore.”

“I can,” he objects, “I really can.”

“Yes. Of course,” Pearl says, “But maybe I’m tired and I want you as an excuse to lie down myself.”

“Ah. Alright. That makes sense,” Darkrai agrees, because it does. He stares around. They seem to have moved, but he can still see the edge of the forest. Or maybe he can’t. Things too far away jump around every time he blinks.

Thinking about it, were they not at the edge of the forest just now?

“Okay,” Grovyle speaks up, from behind Darkrai, “We should be safe enough here. We can’t be seen from outside, and the forest is… better than most surroundings. Besides, I’ll keep watch.”

“You?” Darkrai asks, “No, I can keep—”

“You absolutely can’t, Darcy,” Pearl interrupts him.

Impolite.

“Yeah, I don’t care.”

Did he say that out loud?

But still, he can. Besides, how is he supposed to trust Grovyle not to kill him while he sleeps?

“I really wish I could, but no, I won’t. I don’t do shit like that.”

“Don’t—”

“Darcy. Stop concentrating on what words he uses. Lie down.” Pearl touches him – touches him, but Darkrai’s hand is too slow to move away. He leaves it where it is.

“I don’t want to sleep, though,” Darkrai tells her.

A sigh. “We’ll keep you safe, okay?”

“Safer than you ever had the intention to keep us—”

“Grovyle!”

“I’m just saying. He really doesn’t deserve you treating him so well.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care-, Darcy, lie down.”

“I don’t… don’t wanna sleep,” he struggles to form words.

“You need to sleep, Darcy.”

“But the nightmares…”

“There won’t be any nightmares.”

Darkrai snorts, staring at Pearl’s feet, which are in front of his face. In front? Oh, he’s lying down. “There always are,” he tells her.

“Darcy, we’re far away from the guild.”

“Yeah,” Darkrai says, “They can sleep peacefully now.”

“What does that… Darcy, do you know something about the nightmares?”

Darkrai hums in answer, and then explains. “I know all about nightmares. I’m the expert on nightmares.” He stares at the dirt before him. It reminds him of… dirt. Dirt which will get caught in his hair, and then he’ll have to brush it out with just his hands, because he hasn’t had a comb for years.

“Yeah, but I meant for the guild.”

“What about the guild? Do they have combs?”

Someone groans.

“Okay. Yeah. Forget it. Go to sleep. We’ll talk when you’re awake again.”

“… ‘bout what…?”

“Close your eye, Darcy. We’ll talk later.”

And he sleeps.

 

Waking up is… strange. Darkrai opens his eye and stares at a dark sky, and for a moment, he is not quite sure if he went back to his old sleeping pattern, or if this is… something different. That moment passes, when he realizes he can’t see any stars, and no clouds interrupting his line of sight, either. It is not long after that that he recalls what happened – somewhat. He knows that he let himself become very tired, and at some point, he remembers Pearl telling him to go to sleep. Besides that… not much remains in his memory.

Did he say things he should not have? He hopes that he did not, but… he knows himself. He knows that he overshares when he gets tired. Still… Still, he is alive. And, moving his fingers and then starting the process of sitting up, also not hurt, he realizes. So whatever he said, it could not have been too bad, or at least not bad enough to be attacked for it.

“Look, you’re still alive,” someone says, “I didn’t kill you.”

Darkrai turns to stare at Grovyle in annoyance. Ah, yes. That guy still exists. Unfortunately.

“Do me the favour and just be quiet until I have properly woken up, yes?” Darkrai answers, not intent on an argument – only to then realize that, well, if he did not want an argument, there are many things he could have said instead. Pushing his hands against his face, he groans. Apologizing is out of question, of course, but… “I did not mean for it to come out like that,” he admits.

There. The truth. For once.

Maybe a little mumbled, but still, he said it.

“Which is what everyone says when they do actually mean it,” Grovyle tells him, and yes, of course, he is right. Which does not mean that Darkrai has to like that. And besides, this once, Darkrai was being honest! Why do others always mistrust him the most when there is actually no lie leaving his lips?

Why should he even try to tell the truth if it brings him the same amount of distrust as a lie would have done?

Well. Alright. He can see that Grovyle’s answers will continue to be hostile, so distraction it is instead. “What time is it?”

“Time’s stopped o’clock.”

Darkrai takes a deep breath. Then another. Finally, he looks at Grovyle again. “Wonderful. Let’s try this: For how long was I asleep?”

Grovyle stares back, emotionless. Finally, he shakes his head, as if deciding against saying whatever he thought about. “Three hours, probably.”

“It’s honestly kinda impressive that you woke up by yourself after just that much,” someone behind Darkrai says, making him jump. Just the slightest bit, though!

“Don’t-, Don’t just… sneak up on me like that!” He turns to look at her. Pearl is sitting on a fallen tree, swinging her feet and looking very unbothered with his tone.

She raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t. I was sitting here. Unmoving.”

“Yes, well, you could have…” He trails off, not sure what she could have done.

Pearl also seems to realize the idiocy of his statement. “Could have what? Breathed extra hard?”

“Maybe,” he tells her, not knowing what else to say. A tiny pout tries to steal itself onto his face, but he forces it right off. It has no place there.

“Sure. I’ll make sure to do that,” she concludes that useless conversation, a tone of mirth in her voice. It does not reflect on her face, though, as she just stares at him emotionless. Finally, she sighs heavily and jumps off her tree. “You feeling up to moving on?”

For a moment, he wants to ask her why she would assume anything else, but… But he just slept three hours, and can’t even remember lying down for that. “…Yes,” he answers after a slight pause.

“Good,” Grovyle states, standing up and stretching first his arms, then his legs. “There’s a Mystery Dungeon up ahead, which we’ll have to go through, because my friend…”

He trails off. For a few moments, Darkrai is confused, but then he realizes, that, of course. Of course Grovyle does not trust him and is, most likely thinking that he might still be working together with Dusknoir. He rolls his eye – which might be a new record for shortest time needed after waking up to do so.

“If I wanted to tell Dusknoir where that friend of yours lives, I would’ve spared myself the trouble of travelling together with you, and just shadowed you instead.” He huffs. “Besides, even without you outright saying it, I know that they probably live at, or close to, the end of the Dungeon.”

Grovyle harrumphs. “So what? They might not even be there anymore.”

“Exactly!” Darkrai cries, annoyance rising, as it always does when confronted with the grass-type, “So you telling me is not going to compromise them in any way, it will just help me navigate.”

Grovyle is about to say something, when Pearl speaks up. “I mean, Darcy is kinda right. If he wants to run off with the knowledge and tell anyone, it’s too late to stop him from doing so, anyways.”

“I could always knock him out.”

Pearl groans. “Please, Grovyle, just stop. And no, Darcy, don’t even think of telling him how strong you are.”

“But I—”

“Please. Please, let’s just get to the Dungeon and meet Grovyle’s friend. And in turn, I won’t mention any of the things you said while you were falling asleep for the day.”

A cold shudder runs over his back. “The things I said…?”

“Yeah,” Pearl agrees, “You got to rambling, and some of the stuff… I’d really like you to elaborate on. But if you play nice with Grovyle for now, I won’t mention any of that.”

Blackmail. Pearl is blackmailing him. He is honestly so very impressed, he does not even feel insulted or threatened.

“Well, alright,” he agrees, because if she blackmails him now, she might also blackmail others later, and he is all for teaching her useful things.

“Great!” A false smile graces her face. “Then onwards we go!”

 

“So who, exactly, is your friend?” asks Pearl, entirely out of the blue.

Darkrai raises his eyebrow. He thought they had been over this topic already – Grovyle is unwilling to say, unless Darkrai proves himself trustworthy. And Darkrai cannot do so, in Grovyle’s eyes, so no information it is.

Besides, was she not happy enough being silent for the entire time before? She certainly did not attempt to start a conversation, and Darkrai was, admittedly, thankful for that. No conversation means no chances for him to make her hate him even more.

But no, apparently now is the right time to speak, in her eyes. At least they had not run into feral Pokémon at all in the last few minutes, so their chances of running into another one and being distracted by a conversation are slim. Not non-existent, and Darkrai is careful to keep an eye out, but slim.

“I just thought about, like, what if we get separated,” Pearl explains, “And we get out of the Dungeon without you. Knowing who to look for would be helpful, then.”

“The chances of that really aren’t that high,” Grovyle tries to say, but Pearl just laughs.

“If Darcy keeps stepping on Gust Traps and being blown through walls—”

“Or if you step on another Warp Trap,” Darkrai throws back, because it has not happened that often, and it’s not his fault—

“Exactly, like, if that happens more often, we could end up separated.”

Darkrai looks at her. “You do know that whoever got separated can just wait next to the stairs for the others to catch up?”

“And what if a strong Pokémon comes along and you gotta flee?”

He considers it. That… Well, that actually makes sense. He would certainly not like to end up having to fight someone much stronger, just to make sure that he can stay next to the stairs. Although…

“You could just flee into some other part of the Dungeon and loop back to the stairs.”

“And stay too long? No thanks. I like my brain not being insane.”

Darkrai sighs. Alright. Alright, she has made her point, and it is not a bad one.

“Hah!” she exclaims, obviously having noticed her victory. “So, Grovyle who’s your friend?”

Grovyle groans, something like… regret? defeat? in his eyes. “Her name is… Celebi.”

“She is a Celebi?” Darkrai interrupts, caught off-guard. Oh, it makes sense, if he thinks about it some more, but… But he just had not considered that possibility.

To think that a simple Celebi was involved in this all the time… well, it makes sense. Their Time Traveling Abilities are most often rather small, and somewhat bound to Dialga. How this one still managed to send two creatures to the past is truly a mystery (or perhaps, it was the same as for him – with Dialga losing control, she may have gained it) – and how she  managed to survive for so long. He was sure that she would’ve died by now.

He does not know much about that particular thorn in his side – sure, he knew she existed, and that Grovyle and Pearl initially got her help to travel through time, but he somehow… figured she would’ve been dead or similar by now. Celebi are not strong Pokémon, and in this future, only those tend to make it.

Grovyle stares at him. “Yes. I just said that.”

Darkrai crosses his arms. “She could also just be named after a Legendary. I have met multiple Pokémon who insisted on calling themselves as such, without actually being one.” Luckily none had ever tried to use his name for that purpose.

“Well, she is a Celebi.” Grovyle harrumphs, and then moves out of the way of an incoming attack with a speed which honestly makes Darkrai almost dizzy. Then, also with the immense speed that Darkrai has started to see as his signature, he has used Leaf Blade and thus knocked out the feral Mothim. Then, as if none of that happened at all, and not even the slightest hitch in his breath, he continues, “She can travel through time, and also make it possible for others to do so. She is also… a little odd…” He mumbles the last part, almost to himself, then speaks up again. “Anyways, her ability made it possible for me to get to the past.”

“Oooh,” Pearl exclaims, “So you’re hoping she can send us back?”

Grovyle nods. “Exactly.”

“And she can do so undetected by Primal Dialga?” Darkrai asks, because for some reason, travelling through time so very close to where the beast hides fills him with dread. Well, not for ‘some reason’. It really is quite logical that he would feel this way. Primal Dialga is an entity he has now met more often than he ever wished to, and although time has stopped, he is sure that it still kept some of its powers.

Just the… the one meeting proved to him that Primal Dialga, as beastly as it has become,… still kept a certain intelligence. And the only thing worse than a mindless beast is an intelligent one.

“She did it once, already,” Grovyle says, and there is an undercurrent of ‘how dare you even imply that she would not be able to’ to his words, “Dusknoir is the bigger worry. So if you truly want to get back to the past…”

“I am not working together with Dusknoir,” Darkrai snarls, the implication having gotten very old very fast. And the worst things is that it’s the truth! Sure, Dusknoir might believe something else, but that is not Darkrai’s problem.

Grovyle just stares at him, in a way which makes very clear how little he believes that to be the truth.

Darkrai crosses his arms. “Besides, this whole conversation is not about me. Pearl asked about your Celebi.”

“And I’ve told both of you enough to identify her, if we get separated.”

“I don’t even know what she looks like, though!”

“Like a Starf Berry,” Darkrai says, and when both Pearl and Grovyle stare at him in clear disbelief, he shrugs. “Or at least the head does. The body is just… a normal body, I guess. Arms and legs, two small wings.”

“I’ve never seen a Starf Berry in my life,” Pearl says, the same moment that Grovyle asks, “You’ve seen Celebi before?”

“You have not?” he asks Pearl, and to Grovyle, he says, “Only pictures,” which is a lie, as usual.

“Oh yeah, you’re interested in Legendaries, you mentioned,” Pearl immediately helps make the lie more believable, “And no, not as far as I can remember. Are they rare?”

Darkrai nods. “Quite.”

“Cool,” Pearl says, and then, she adds, “But I’ve still got no clue what Celebi looks like.”

Darkrai sighs. “You’ll be able to identify her, I assure you. Besides, we will just make sure not to get separated.”

“Exactly,” Grovyle agrees, and wait, Grovyle agrees? Darkrai stares at him in confusion, and thus sees the moment Grovyle seems to realize that he agreed with him just now. His eyes widen comically, and then, he throws Darkrai an angry glare he really did not deserve.

That also seems to be the end of their conversation, because Grovyle makes a big show of hopping in front of Pearl and Darkrai, very obviously on his guard. There is nothing to guard themselves from, of course, but Darkrai lets Grovyle have this. Having to realize that Darkrai is not constantly wrong must have been a hit to his confidence.

 

“So, Celebi’s supposed to be here?”

By ‘here’ Pearl means the end of the Dungeon, which, unsurprisingly, turned out to be a clearing, surrounded by the spruces this forest consists of. There are also some of the seemingly ever-present rocks caught in time, floating in differing heights above the ground. In a way… In a way, they show the utter destruction of Temporal Tower, because even here, multiple days’ travel from the actual remains of the Tower, some fragments ended up. And sure, some of these rocks seem to be from the cliffside just a little further up – probably something like an earthquake loosened them, judging by the occasional small fissures on the ground. But other fragments look clearly like parts of building blocks, broken in erratic ways, and…

And Darkrai is very sure that they came from Temporal Tower. Sometimes… Sometimes, back in the past, he would get satisfaction out of imagining some of the great Legendaries losing control over their realm, about things breaking, being ruined. But being here, seeing that it actually happened… is no fun at all.

He… He still believes that they deserve it, of course. So complacent in their positions, so sure about their never-ending control, so ignorant about what happens to those they consider beneath them.

And yet, now that he finally is where Dialga got what he deserved… He finds no joy in looking at this destroyed place, this place which might have been part of the Hidden Land once upon time. Everything is unrecognizable from what it was supposed to be, everything is wrong.

There is a waterfall, a little further ahead, or at least something which pretends to be one. Its waters are unmoving, the falling stream’s reflections not changing unless Darkrai himself moves. Truly stopped in time.

He had come across another waterfall like this, when he ran after Pearl and Grovyle, and it was just as unsettling a picture as it is now. And also infuriating, because he is quite thirsty. But this supposed water is even worse than ice, because it does not just pretend to be solid until clasped in warm hands. No, it stays that way, no matter what Darkrai tries.

… He might not like Dusknoir, but he is thankful that the ghost, at least, gave him a flask of water for his travels. If he had not, Darkrai would be seriously dehydrated by now, instead of just regularly exhausted.

“That’s right. It was around here that we met the last time. But…” Grovyle continues to explain, and Darkrai turns towards him to listen, “If Primal Dialga somehow found out about this place, Celebi will have fled to somewhere else.”

“Then she is a smart one,” Darkrai states – it’s what he would have done, in her case.

Suddenly, there is a giggle. “I am indeed quite smart!”

And then, in a small burst of light, a Celebi materializes before the three of them. A Celebi which…

“Your colour,” Darkrai says, before allowing himself to think, “It’s off, is it not?”

Silence, for a heartbeat, and another one, and then—

“So’s your eye, so what?” she snaps back, “Can’t a lady be a nice pink colour? Did no one ever teach you not to judge someone by appearance?”

Darkrai swallows. As much as he is already starting to dislike her, she is, regrettably, right.  “I… Yes, of course. I mean, I did not. Judge you. I just thought that…” He did not think, and that’s the problem, actually. “Well. Forget it.”

“Already forgiven and forgotten! You must simply think that I’m much cuter than any other Celebi could ever be!” And a giggle, because how else could he be tormented? Even worse, she places her hands under her chin, as if to pose as cutely as she can. She does not succeed, but Darkrai is really not looking to make even more enemies.

And so, “… Sure,” he agrees, in a deadpan voice. It seems to have been enough, though, as she claps her hands two times. Then, she turns towards Grovyle, and before he has a chance to evade her (not that he tries to), she has thrown herself around his neck. “It’s been too long, Emerald!” She hugs him a little more, and after definitely too much time, finally lets go. Then, she looks left, right, and even behind Grovyle, but whatever she seems to be looking for, she seems not to find it. “But where—”

“Wait, is Emerald your name?” Pearl interrupts, staring at Grovyle, intrigued.

Grovyle seems somewhat embarrassed, but still, he nods. “… It is. But don’t use it, please.”

Celebi laughs. “It’s more of a nickname than anything! So dear Emerald doesn’t want anyone but Pearl and me calling him by it. Where is Pearl, by the way?”

“Uh, here?” Pearl answers, sounding very confused. That, finally, makes Celebi stop in her overabundance. It also makes Grovyle turn towards her, a frown on his face. And makes Darkrai realize that, oh, yes. He should’ve realized that this might happen.

“Like… My name’s Pearl?” Pearl says, or rather asks, her tone very unsure at the sudden scrutiny she has found herself under.

“Oh!” Celebi says, and then, she laughs. “No, sorry for the confusion! Emerald and I have another friend, and she’s called Pearl, too!”

“Oooh, okay! Yeah, you got me confused,” Pearl says, and laughs, not the slightest clue that she could be the described Pearl. Or maybe, she does, because her laugh sounds… off. Maybe it is just the awkwardness of the situation, though.

Should Darkrai make them aware that…?

“I… We got separated, travelling back in time,” Grovyle admits to Celebi, changing the mood of the situation once again.

Celebi’s eyes widen, and Darkrai is sure that it is worry. “But she’s alright, though?”

Grovyle stares at the ground. “I don’t know.”

“Oh. Oh no,” Celebi says, placing one of her hands over her mouth. It is this moment that Darkrai makes his decision.

“What Pokémon is she?” he asks, careful to make himself sound actually willing to help, and he even explains, “Maybe we met her in the past.”

“Yeah!” Pearl is quick to jump on the train, “I mean, I haven’t talked to anyone else named Pearl, but I also don’t know the names of every Pokémon I’ve run across. So we could’ve met her, definitely!”

Celebi and Grovyle share a long glance, and finally, Grovyle nods the tiniest amount. Probably giving Celebi the permission to explain.

And that, Celebi attempts to do. “She’s actually not a Pokémon, she’s—”

“A human?” Darkrai interrupts, because hey, look at him, Pearl! He is trying to help you find out more about your past! If he wasn’t such a good friend, he would not have done so, definitely.

But, as always for the past few weeks, his words do not have the intended effect.

“What did Dusknoir tell you?!” Grovyle barks, his head snapping around to glare at Darkrai. Darkrai takes a step back and raises his hands in a calming motion. Or maybe a motion which shows that he has no intent to attack. Everything to reassure Grovyle that he is on his side. Grovyle still seems like he is about to attack Darkrai, unfortunately, but that is normal for Grovyle.

“He did not tell me anything!” he lies, and when Grovyle advances another step, steps back again.

“Don’t lie to me! How else—”

“Grovyle!” Pearl cries, interrupting him, and actually steps between the two of them, her back towards Darkrai. “Stop! Darcy wasn’t told—, Dusknoir didn’t tell him anything about that!”

“Well, then how else would he know?!”

“I-, I-,” she starts to stutter. Then, she takes a deep breath. “The Pearl you know was-, is a human, right?”

“I thought we clarified that just now!” Grovyle barks, not stopping his threatening position. A little over his shoulder, Celebi watches the situation with wide eyes.

“Sorry! Sorry. I just need to make sure. And… uh, if you don’t mind me asking, how long did you stay in the past? Like… When did you get separated?”

Grovyle’s answer sounds snappish, but he does loosen a little. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I just… Need to know, please? And then I might be able to explain why Darcy knows that she was a human?”

Grovyle crosses his arms, finally giving up the attacking position. Darkrai is only half glad, because he knows the immense speed he could attack with, if he wanted. As much as he appreciates Pearl standing between them, if Grovyle decides to attack Darkrai anyways, Pearl will not be able to stop him. Then, the grass-type finally speaks. “Well, if counting the time in your past… about… four to five months, I guess. Counting time’s weird.”

Pearl’s eyes widen. “Then… Then…” She looks at Darkrai. “The timeline would fit, right?” She sounds very excited.

“It seems like it,” he confirms. For a moment, he allows himself to ponder if confirming her identity to Grovyle and Celebi is really that great an idea – certainly it will just make them band together much more. But Pearl’s trust in Darkrai is basically non-existent at this point, and he has to do whatever he can to regain it. And that, unfortunately, includes being a good and helpful friend. “And I think the chances of these two things being unrelated are quite miniscule.”

“The chances of what?” Grovyle asks, sounding very impatient.

“Well, uh… It’s… It might not sound very believable, but I swear, it’s true!” She stares at the ground and starts painting lines in the dirt with one of her feet. “So, uh, basically, I…” She turns around and looks at Darkrai, then, asking for his help without words. And Darkrai, good friend that he is, who would never betray her to save his own skin, takes over.

“I found Pearl on the beach of Treasure Town about five months ago, passed out. She is amnesiac as to everything which happened before she ended up there, but there are two things she has always known with certainty…” He tries to make a dramatic pause, here, but Pearl instead sees it as her chance to speak for herself again. Well. Suits him.

“I know that my name’s Pearl, and that I… was a human.”

“A human?” Celebi cries, immediately, like a good audience should. It is a quite conveniently timed cry, and for but a moment, Darkrai almost feels as if she did it on purpose, so that Grovyle could not say anything stupid. But… No. That is most certainly giving her too much credit.

“Yes,” Pearl agrees, “I… I know that it might sound made up, and maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with the Pearl you know, but it’s just…”

“Conspicuous,” Darkrai finishes.

Grovyle stares first at Pearl, then at Celebi, then at Pearl, then at Darkrai, and finally, at Pearl again.

Finally, slowly, he speaks. “… You could be making this up.”

“For what reason?” Darkrai asks, the same moment that Pearl says, “I know, but I swear, I’m not!”

Celebi hums. “I mean, our Pearl definitely had some characteristics which I think no one else should have. So we could just ask her questions, right, Emerald? There’s nothing to lose, here! Either we figure out that she’s actually Pearl – wow that sounds weird – or we learn more about one of your new friends!”

Grovyle is quick to object to that. “The Duskull isn’t my friend.” Then, he scratches his head. Finally, he nods. “Well, I guess,” he says, and then turns towards Pearl anew. “So you don’t remember anything from before Duskull found you?”

“I don’t,” Pearl agrees.

“That makes it hard to ask questions you should know the answer to, though.”

He is right, of course, but… But for Pearl to find her happiness, and for Darkrai to prove himself a good friend, they will have to find something which can actually serve as such a question. So what might the question be? Favourite colour and the like are out, Pearl had not figured most of them out when she had freshly lost her memories. Habits? Those might be a starting point.

“Was your Pearl unorderly?” Darkrai asks, therefore, making Pearl squeak in indignation.

“I’m not! You are just a control freak!”

“It is not being a control freak if you constantly—”

“She certainly wasn’t the most orderly!” Celebi interrupts with a giggle.

“But that is not enough to prove anything,” Grovyle adds.

“Well, then… Hm…” Darkrai hums, not sure how to continue. He has known Pearl for almost half a year now, and suddenly, all that he knows about her flees him. What else characterizes her? What habits does she have, which would allow her to be recognized as the one he knows she is? Sure, she makes a lot of movements which show that she was clearly a human at one point, but Grovyle will not have seen those. Or, he might have seen some, but not consciously observed them.

And a character is something that relies on memories, Darkrai knows. If he suddenly woke up without his memories he would be very different, he is absolutely certain.

So what part of Pearl is something which proves that she is, without a doubt, the Pearl Grovyle knows?

“The, I-, uh, my… Maybe…” Pearl starts to stutter. Darkrai looks at her, as she looks at him with pleading eyes. “The you-know-what, like, maybe we can tell them about that?”

“The what?”

“What we talked with Uxie about! And Dusknoir… Like, the, uh, touching-and-hearing-or-seeing stuff?”

Darkrai’s eyes widen. Of course! “It is a learnt ability, both of them said,” he agrees.

“Yes! Exactly! So… should we share it?”

“Well… That is your decision,” Darkrai finally decides on. Best not to force her about anything.

“Share what?” Celebi cocks her head to the left.

Pearl pauses. Takes a deep breath. And then, a slight shiver in her voice, explains, “Okay, uh… So I have the ability to see the future or past, occasionally? It’s called the—”

“Dimensional Scream,” Grovyle finishes. His eyes are wide. “That’s… Yes. Pearl taught herself how to use it.”

“Then… Then…” Pearl stutters – undignified, but Darkrai will allow her to be so, this once. After all, this is an emotional moment. And thus, he takes a careful step back, to let them have it – which he really would not have needed to bother with, because none of the other three seem to be aware of him right now.

“Then…” Grovyle repeats, “Then that would explain Dusknoir’s behaviour. That smartass must’ve figured out who you were and decided to kill you, memories or not.”

Darkrai suddenly sees a chance. “Oh!” he gasps, as if he only just now realized something adding up. “So that must be why he mentioned something about Pearl ‘probably being a dangerous criminal’ as his reason for wanting her dead. Which I thought were just the mutterings of someone who is mad enough to enjoy a future like this, but now…”

“Yeah, that sounds like him, alright,” Celebi says, a sour mien on her face. “But let’s not talk about that prick! Pearl! You’re Pearl!” she says to, well, Pearl, “And you’re alive!”

“I feared I’d… I’d lost you for good,” Grovyle says, the slightest hint of tears forming in his eyes. “When we were separated…”

“Separated?” Pearl asks, and then, trying to be inconspicuous, wipes over her eyes.

“When we travelled back in time, we were… attacked, I guess. And then I lost sight of you, and I couldn’t find you at all during all the months in the past, and…” He takes a shaky breath. “And now you’re a Piplup. How did that even happen?”

Pearl shrugs. Darkrai also shrugs, although no one sees him do so. That is, as of now, still a very much unsolved mystery. It was certainly not Darkrai’s fault.

Well. Maybe it was a tiny bit his fault. He did attack them. But he had no intention of turning anyone into something else. He doesn’t even have the power to do so!

…He thinks.

“Beats me,” Pearl admits, “I… Really don’t remember anything from before the beach.” A slight pause, and then, “Well, mostly. Sometimes, I feel like I’ve been at a place before. Or there’s… snippets I can’t place. And my nightmares seem to draw from things I don’t consciously remember.”

Darkrai’s eye widens. What? But… But… Except for the first one, she never told him those things! That…!

Why would she not tell him those things? His chest tightens, for a reason he cannot comprehend. His arms ache, and his fingers tingle, and he really, really does not understand the ‘why’.

Why would she not tell him? He was… He was by her side, almost always! He made sure to behave like a proper friend, and even got her Dimensional Scream to work around him! So why didn’t she tell him?!

What has she recalled? Does she remember this future? Does she remember the attack on Grovyle? Has she figured out that Darkrai had been pulling the strings all along? Is she now planning on betraying him? Does she-, Does she know about the lies he has told? Does she know about the lie he is living?

If she has it all figured out—

If, he forcefully reminds himself. If, he forces to echo in his head. Because it is not a certainty. In fact, it is…

It is unlikely.

Is he not the best liar around? (He is.) Has he not watched her almost every day? (He has.) If she figured something out, would he not have noticed? (He would.)

(Did thinking like this not spell his downfall, time and time again?)

(No. NO! It did not. It… did not. He did not let it. He thinks only what is true. He does not let emotions blind him.)

(That is a lie—)

(It is NOT!)

There is a noise like… snapping? Yes. Snapping. Someone is snapping their fingers. Darkrai turns to look at them. It’s… Celebi. Floating before him, something like… concern on her face?

“There we go, finally got you back!” She smiles, and Darkrai does not understand. ‘Got him back’? From what?

Celebi continues, as if Darkrai is not entirely too confused to understand what she means, right now. “Too big of a revelation for you to stomach, huh? I almost can’t believe it myself!” This time, she laughs. “I mean, a human becoming a Pokémon? I swear, only Pearl can get things like that happen to her.”

“… Yes,” Darkrai slowly, carefully, agrees, still not sure what Celebi thought she brought him back from. “She tends to attract trouble.”

Celebi laughs again. “She does! So, you became friends with her in the past?”

Oh. Oh no. Not the dreaded small talk. Darkrai bemoans his misfortune, but when he looks over at Pearl, she seems to be talking – whispering – intently with Grovyle. Dead to the rest of the world, pretty much.

And so, he has to answer. “Indeed.” Maybe if he keeps his answers short, Celebi will become bored and leave him alone, without him needing to shoo her away and making Grovyle angry on her behalf in the process.

“That’s cool! What did you get up to? Because if Pearl didn’t, or doesn’t, I guess, remember what she came to the past for, or even why she came to the past, she definitely didn’t collect any Time Gears, right?”

So short answers just makes her blabber on for even longer. Wonderful.

“We did not. We formed an exploration team.”

“An exploration what?”

Darkrai shakes his head. These Pokémon of the future really do not know the most basic things. Sure, they also do not have a reason to know, but still, it is annoying.

“Exploration team,” he repeats. “They are groups of Pokémon – most often between two or three – who traverse Mystery Dungeons to help other Pokémon. Now, it isn’t always Mystery Dungeons, but many of the… hmm…. the ordinary Pokémon, for lack of a better term, cannot properly navigate those, so most work gets done in Dungeons.”

“Huh,” Celebi breathes, “That’s weird. Everyone here has to be good at it.”

Darkrai shrugs. “Yes, but you live in a dystopian future where everyone who was not strong enough died years ago.”

“Geez, that’s one way to put it, but I really don’t like it being said like that!” Celebi pouts, but quickly enough laughs again. “So, you and Pearl have been helping other Pokémon, pretty much?”

Darkrai nods. “Indeed.” Let’s try the short answer again. Maybe this time she will—

“That sounds like Pearl, indeed!” She folds her arms behind her head. “And what about you, how did you get to the future? Or, actually, why’s everyone here, again? I thought I didn’t have the time to ask before, but since Emerald and Pearl are busy right now, and I don’t wanna pull them from each other if they were apart for so long—”

Darkrai sees a chance. “Have they known each other for long? Because spending about five months apart does not sound like enough time to be literally in tears.”

Celebi blinks. Then, she lets out a drawn-out “Oooh, you’re old, aren’t you?”

Darkrai stares. He is, but how did she gather that so quickly?

“Five months is a long time!” she says, “And the only ones who don’t notice are the ones who’ve seen a lot of time pass by, already!”

Darkrai is not quite convinced by the argument. Still, there is no use denying his age, anyways. There might have been, at some point, in the past… but by now, everyone seems to know that he is older than they are. And so, he shrugs. “I guess.”

“You guess? Oh wow, you must actually be super old!” Darkrai glares, Celebi laughs, and then continues, “But yeah, anyways! They’ve known each other for pretty much their entire lives. Pearl picked Emerald up when he was just a lost little Treecko, and she, herself was still a tiny kid.” Celebi laughs, something she seems to love doing.

“And you were old already?”

“I’m a young lady!” Celebi immediately objects, although Darkrai does not miss the mirth in her tone. “But not quite as young a lady as Pearl. And that’s everything you get to know about that.”

Darkrai puts his hand against his chin. So older than both Grovyle and Pearl, but probably not as old as the catastrophic future – because he would have heard about a Celebi of a different colour, he is sure. There are not so many Legendaries that the overview over them is lost. Besides, most often those who guess things the fastest – like his age – only do so because they share it.

Ah, but what does it matter? Celebi already said she will say no more, Grovyle will not share anything with Darkrai, and Pearl does not remember. Thus, he will not gain an answer to a question which did not matter in the first place.

More useful to know is the confirmation that Pearl and Grovyle had known each other for what amounts to almost their entire lives. Because now he knows that Grovyle would, most likely, do anything for Pearl. Alone the fact that, for the first time since they are travelling together, he showed anything other than anger while in Darkrai’s presence, proves that. And that, of course, can be used.

“You didn’t answer my question, though!” Celebi cries, pulling Darkrai away from the new plans for manipulation he was just about to start working on, “Like, why are you three in the future? Did Dusknoir have anything to do with it? Because from the way you talked, you’ve met him, right?”

Why, just why, did she have to turn out that perceptive? Darkrai stares off to the side, and then at her again. “I… have. He posed as an honest explorer in the past, and managed to capture Grovyle – who was believed to be a criminal, before you ask. And then Dusknoir forced both Pearl and me along for the ride into the future.” He grimaces. As of now, he realizes, he has come to dislike travelling through Dimensional Holes quite strongly. So much, in fact, that just the mere memory makes him queasy.

“Damn,” Celebi states, “That sucks. By the way, do you have a name? I prefer calling others—"

And then, she is interrupted by Grovyle, who has suspiciously red-rimmed eyes.

“Celebi!” he shouts, “Don’t talk to that guy! Actually, get away from him entirely.”

“What? Why not? He’s fun!” She laughs, as was to be expected. “Especially when he gets his thinking face on. Did you know that he pouts when he does that? Well, at least it looked like a pout! Hard to tell with that skull. Was it a pout?” She asks, turning towards Darkrai again.

Luckily, before he even has the chance to attempt an answer, Grovyle is speaking – growling – again. “He allied himself with Dusknoir.” Darkrai tries to ignore the way Celebi’s eyes widen. “And was perfectly alright with Pearl and me being executed.”

Conversation with Celebi forgotten, and now much more intent on defending himself, Darkrai turns to correct Grovyle. “I already told you, I could not confront him directly—”

Grovyle interrupts him. “And I already know you’re just a fucking coward—”

“Guys, come on, can you stop quarrelling for—"

“Wait, what, what am I missing here—"

“I am not a coward for wanting to stay alive—”

“You’re a ghost, you cun—”

“Don’t you dare use that word—”

“Please, I can’t deal with you two like this right now—”

“Okay, as fun as listening to this was at first, she’s right, you really should—”

“I’ll damn well use whatever language I see fit, you assh—”

Darkrai’s screech, finally, manages to drown everything else out, and silence the other three simultaneously. He takes a hard breath, and another. Everyone stares at him. He glares back.

“I just want to get back to the past,” he says, and his breathing is much more laboured than he would want it to be, “Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“And you’d kiss up to just about anyone to make that happen?” Grovyle taunts, and finally, Darkrai snaps.

“Yes! Yes, I would! Can you get over it already?!”

“You betrayed—”

“Me,” Pearl interrupts, her tone icy in a way Darkrai has never heard before. “And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me, Emerald,” her voice softens the tiniest bit as she addresses him, and then grows hard and cold once again, “It’s me who gets to decide how to deal with that.”

Grovyle stares at her for a few seconds, and then he looks towards the ground. “He also stood by as I was to be executed—”

“And for that, you’re allowed to be angry with him. But everything else is for me to deal with.”

For a few seconds, Grovyle says nothing, and Darkrai does not dare to speak up, either. Not even Celebi, who Darkrai had pegged as someone who did not know how to keep quiet when it is important, says anything.

Then, surprisingly, Grovyle barks out a short laugh. “Okay, I understand. I’ll stop it, and let you deal with it as you see fit.”

“Thank you,” Pearl says, and it sounds so very honest, Darkrai has troubles believing that it actually could be. Then, she claps her flippers together. “Great! Then let’s get to dealing with the important business.”

“Yeah! Let’s!” Celebi easily agrees, just as willing to let this situation end than everyone else here. “You three wanna get back to the past, right?” Celebi asks.

Grovyle nods for all of them. “Yeah. We… kinda failed our mission.”

Excuse him? Darkrai failed nothing. That was only on Pearl and Grovyle.

“Obviously, Duskull already updated me!” Celebi says, a laugh and short flutter of her wings accompanying the words. “Because as much as I know you all love my company, I don’t think you’d travel to the future just to enjoy some time together.”

“I’m sorry,” Grovyle admits, sounding honest about the apology. “I really wish we could…”

“But that’s not possible, I know, I know!” Celebi laughs again. This time, Darkrai notices that it sounds forced. He wants her to remind him of Mesprit, because at first glance, it really seems like it… But Azelf’s face comes up in his memories the moment he thinks that thought. Which makes no sense, she is not like him at all. “Well, let’s hope you manage it this time! I’ve had quite enough of living in this dark and dreary world, it’s so depressing! There’s really only a few Pokémon who’d enjoy something like this.”

… Look, he realizes that none of them know who he truly is. However, some of the comments they sometimes make indicate a vastly different picture. He does not like this. He does not like it at all.

“We really should move on, Celebi,” Grovyle cuts her… monologuing? tries at weird small talk? short. And look at who’s the one talking, Darkrai and Celebi certainly were not the ones having an emotional reunion. “Because there is still the chance that Dusknoir sent more Pokémon after us.” And, as always, it seems he cannot resist the urge and throws Darkrai a glance, “So we should move on, to not lead them to your hiding place.”

Celebi giggles – which reminds Darkrai of Dareios. Thinking of him leaves a strange feeling in his chest – not hurt or anger or anything of the like, just like… an absence? Something missing?

… Don’t tell him he actually misses the ghost. Because he does not.

Just because he thinks that this entire situation would be nicer if Dareios was around to give unasked-for advice does not mean that Darkrai misses him, after all. No, he is glad that there is no one around to giggle way more often than necessary.

Well. There was not, he thinks, shooting Celebi a glare she does not take notice of. Instead, she has started speaking.  “It’s quite fine, there’s no need to be worried. Let them come, they’re of no concern to me.”

What a relaxed stance. Darkrai is sure that it has a high possibility of becoming her downfall. Something to keep in mind for any future plans he might need to come up with, then.

“All right…” Grovyle trails off, seemingly as weirded out by her laid back attitude as Pearl obviously is, as can be seen from her confused gaze. Darkrai… does not quite share the sentiment. She is still a Legendary, after all. They are not like common Pokémon, and their behaviour and way of living reflects that. Even this lone Celebi, who, against all odds, seems to have survived in this dark future, is still one of them. Not that she has had much contact with other Legendaries, he thinks. Probably none at all.

In the past, that would have been different. Just another reason added as to why this future is a failure.

“Besides,” Celebi continues, flicking one of her hands as if she had hair to flick – was this, perhaps, a habit of Pearl she unconsciously copied? – “As long as you are so kind as to prevent the planet’s paralysis, we’ll be spared the agony of this world of darkness. Dearest Emerald, I will devote my whole life to achieve that end!”

“Of course. I understand. So, the Passage of Time?” Grovyle asks. Celebi grins.

“Ready and nearby!” Her grin turns into a smile. “Just above the forest, on a plateau, this time. I’ll guide you there! There’s a Dungeon between us and it, but we all know how to deal with those.” A quick grin, and then, she starts flying on ahead, and the three of them follow her. They do not stop their conversation, however, even once they enter the aforementioned Dungeon. Really, it seems like the clearing they found Celebi in is the only place in this forest where no Dungeon is… Which Darkrai admits is quite a good way to keep oneself protected. Let the feral Pokémon do all the defending, while using the ruckus they create as a sign to either hide or flee.

“All three of you are taking it, right?” she asks, turning around and flying backwards. … Which is not a great idea for Pokémon that can’t pass through trees or walls. Darkrai is calling it now, she will end up hitting at least one obstacle, and once she does, he will laugh at her misfortune.

“Yup!” Pearl answers, “Emerald and I definitely want to gather the Time Gears again, and Darcy…”

“I already made it clear that I want to get back to the past,” he clarifies when Pearl trails off, unsure as to how to proceed. Just when did she change to using ‘Emerald’ to refer to Grovyle, he wonders. He knows that he has lost her trust… but to see himself replaced so very quickly still leaves a bitter aftertaste. Best to make her aware of how useful he is, at least. “And I also think that I might be the best individual to approach the Lake Guardians regarding their Time Gears.”

Pearl stares. Grovyle scrunches his brows. Celebi raises just one questioning eyebrow. “You wanna help gather the Time Gears?” she asks, and Darkrai is quick to nod.

“Of course. This future is nothing to be desired.”

“True!” Celebi is quick to agree, and Pearl nods, too, after a moment of what seems to be consideration.

“So, yeah,” she agrees, just as Darkrai busies himself scaring off a feral Vulpix with just his glare alone, “Three tickets it is.”

Darkrai decides then to ask a question, because if he does not, there is a chance that either of them might confront his seemingly changed views, and he is not feeling like doing that, right now. Today, if counted from the moment he woke up and ignoring the three hours he slept, has been far too long. Once again he can feel the tiredness starting to set in, and considering how many hard questions he has had to answer since then… Well. Best to control the topic of conversation, for now.

He turns towards Celebi. “Say, what is this Passage of Time Grovyle and you have been mentioning? I have only ever heard of Dimensional Holes.”

And that is, surprisingly, true. There are only few Pokémon he knows who have ever been able to create those, Palkia and Dialga on the forefront of his mind. And he himself, of course, but his ability was not present from the beginning of time, but rather happened through either time or space being in disarray. It was a little bit confusing, figuring that out. Cresselia might be able to open Dimensional Holes, too, if she would ever try.

Besides them, there are some Legendaries Darkrai has either heard of being able to open them, or where he was even present to witness it. Maybe all stronger Legendaries can do it, as long as Time or Space are in disarray. Maybe he was, as usual, the only one to figure it out.

But yes. He has never before heard of a ‘Passage of Time’.

“It’s a portal that Celebi uses to travel through time. Or, well, let us travel through time,” Grovyle answers, and he does not seem hostile, for once. “It’s like a corridor that spans dimensions.”

Celebi grins and adds, “For trips on my own, I can travel through time without any help! Well, at least technically, I could, if time was not unmoving – it’s like you can swim through water, but not ice, you know? Short trips are mostly fine, but for big trips, or with passengers, I must use the Passage!”

“Ah. What makes it different to a Dimensional Hole? I would think it different in that it may not allow someone to travel through time and space simultaneously, but then again, Pearl did not land wherever that Passage of Time ends, did she? Unless that is either the ocean, or the beach. I am not entirely sure if she landed on the beach or washed up.”

His attack on them certainly wasn’t localized in any of the places she might have turned up in. No, that was confined to the opening of the Passage of Time, as he has just learnt its name must be. He had… assumed it was just a very strange Dimensional Hole.

Darkrai continues, intent on not letting himself dwell on why just assuming things might be a bad idea, “And moreover, I do assume—” Darn it. He breaks off, takes a deep breath, and starts the sentence anew. “Well, I guessed that these are the remains of the Hidden Land, and I am also believe that, wherever Grovyle landed, it could not have been there – Dialga would not have been happy to have anyone travel to it, without his permission.” Quickly, he adds, “I assume,” because there is obviously no reason for ‘Darcy’ to know for sure.

“Oh, that’s a good question!” Celebi exclaims, barely avoiding the edge of one of the Dungeon’s walls. “It’s really interesting, you see…”

As Celebi starts into her – surprisingly thorough – explanation, neither she nor Darkrai notice the exasperated look Pearl and Grovyle share.

 

The trouble starts, as it usual does, with someone being careless. Now, obviously, Darkrai is aware that some things are outside one’s control, and that this was, most certainly, one of those things. But with the way Grovyle blames Darkrai for it, and how Pearl frets over it, he really is of the opinion that it was just Celebi being careless.

“You!” Grovyle nevertheless shouts, “You were supposed to be in the front!”

“I was!” Darkrai defends, because really, he was. He does not like being there, but he accepts that Grovyle just refuses to move if Darkrai tries to inconspicuously slink towards the rear. One of the disadvantages of still being greatly disliked by the grass-type.

“But you were—”

“Emerald!” Pearl interrupts him, her tone stern in a way which tells Darkrai that, over the short amount of time they were in the future, relatively speaking, she had grown much, much older. “This was absolutely not Darcy’s fault!”

“Of course it was! He allowed her—”

“Emerald!” Pearl repeats, although she shouts, this time. “This is a Dungeon with traps! Unless you wanna accuse Darcy of being the one to place them, then he’s no more at fault than we are!”

“But he allowed Celebi to be next to him,” Grovyle objects, although his anger seems to have weakened considerably.

“Yes, because she is her own being, and we were having an interesting conversation,” Darkrai tells him, head held high, arms crossed.

Grovyle attempts to say something, but Pearl interrupts before he even has the chance. “And Celebi’s not weak, Emerald. We’re gonna find her again in no time, and she’ll be perfectly alright.”

Grovyle looks off to the side. “But—”

“Hey. Emerald. Look at me.”

Grovyle does, because it is Pearl who asks him to do so, and, as Darkrai has come to realize, he will not deny her (or Celebi) what they want. He is weak for them, which is obviously something Darkrai is willing to exploit. And if that means letting Pearl chastise him, without Darkrai actually doing anything but exist, then he is willing to do absolutely anything but exist.

“Look, I might not remember much, but I know that the way you’ve been behaving isn’t you. I guess you’re just stressed out, but right here, right now, in this Dungeon, we’re as safe as can be. There won’t be a Dusknoir catching up to us in here, and none of the feral Pokémon will manage to knock us out, not even if each of us was on our own.”

‘Debatable’, Darkrai thinks, but he does not say so. He can understand certain societal norms. Just because he does not agree with them, and likes to ignore them, does not mean that he does not understand them.

“I guess,” Grovyle answers, a pout on his face, which disappears almost instantly as he breathes out heavily. “No, you’re right, Pearl, of course you’re right. I’m sorry.” He nods. “Let’s continue, make sure we find either Celebi or the stairs.”

Darkrai stays quiet then, too, because he has argued enough with Grovyle for a lifetime. Even if he knows that the grass-type deserves to be argued with, he, himself, is not in the mood to do so right now. And so, he instead turns around to move on, giving a wide berth to the Warp Trap Celebi managed to step on. And he even makes sure to stay at the front of the group, lest Grovyle get angry at him again.

Really, they should—

And suddenly, he feels himself being thrown in a random direction, with no chance of stopping. He’s tried too, in the past, of course, but he’s always failed. So instead, he squeezes his eyes shut, although he will deny that if asked if he did, and braces himself for an unpleasant trip. There’s the feeling of moving through a wall, and then another, and then, finally, the momentum stops and Darkrai… Well. He is in a completely different room to the one he was just in.

Blasted Gust Traps!

Oh, how he loathes, no, hates them. One moment, he will be about his way, and the next, he’ll be sent flying through walls, whether he wants to or not! Those cursed Gust Traps just make something inside him snap, and then, he’s helplessly at their mercy. And sometimes, like right now, he will be so very disoriented that he does not even dare to try to find his way right back to where the others must be, because he would certainly float through the wrong wall and—

His stomach rumbles. And yes. That, exactly. He will get way too hungry to even consider moving through another wall.

Great. Wonderful. At least Grovyle got his unspoken wish of Darkrai being separated from the group. Not instead of Celebi, as he had probably wanted, but at least removed as well.

Well. The only thing he can do now is find the stairs and camp out there, in the hopes that both Pearl and Grovyle, as well as Celebi, won’t need too long to get there.

Thus, he begins the long walk through one of the Dungeon’s many corridors, until he arrives in a tiny chamber with two more possible routes to follow, and emerging from one of them—

“Oh!” Celebi exclaims, and Darkrai drops the fighting stance he’d adopted, “Hi! Great to see you again, I was fearing I’d lost you all!”

Darkrai steps out fully. “It is only me, I’m afraid.”

Celebi stares at him. “Emerald and Pearl?”

Darkrai shrugs. “I stepped on a Gust Trap and got seperated. I would rather not traverse any more walls until I find something to eat.”

Celebi oohs. “Makes sense! But hey, guess we’re the unlucky ones this floor, then!” She giggles and stretches her arms, as if this was just another fun little adventure for her. Maybe it is. “But hey, at least we aren’t alone, I’m glad!”

Darkrai holds back from rolling his eye. “Yes, how fortunate.”

Celebi laughs. Then, she turns towards the one corridor neither she nor Darkrai came from. “This way, then?”

He nods. “Obviously.”

And onwards they go, Celebi taking the lead this time, until they arrive in not just a small chamber, but a great room. And, as luck would have it, tucked away in the furthest corner, Darkrai can spy the stairs. No Grovyle or Pearl, yet, but at least now Darkrai won’t have to continue searching for either or the other. No, now he can lean back and enjoy the time it will take for Grovyle and Pearl to come here.

“Look, the stairs!” Celebi exclaims.

Or at least he would, if there was not yet another annoyance here. “Yes, I saw,” Darkrai tells her, aborting his eyeroll the moment she looks in his direction. Instead, he continues towards the stairs.

At least the one he got stuck with is Celebi. He would much rather be stuck with her than Grovyle. Or… Or Pearl, to be entirely honest, because she would most certainly use the one-on-one time to ask questions he cannot give her the answers to.

“Well, yes,” she tells him, “But I still like saying it! Makes me feel better about my abilities as a professional stair looker-upper.”

“A… what?”

Celebi giggles, and then, those giggles transform into a full blown laugh. “Oh, you should’ve seen your face! That’s not a thing, of course!”

“Ah yes, of course,” Darkrai repeats in a deadpan voice. “You most definitely had me fooled.”

Celebi, of course, pouts, immediately recognizing the barely-hidden unimpressed tone of Darkrai’s voice. She turns to say something else, but then, as has happened decidedly too often inside this Dungeon, a sandstorm starts.

Because of course the feral Pokémon dwelling in this Dungeon just love tormenting him, and they also love ruining his hair.

Squinting his eyes, Darkrai searches for the inconsiderate attacker, and ‘lo and behold, emerging from the corridor Celebi and he did not take, not one but two Steelix emerge. Wonderful. It is not as if they are truly strong opponents, but they are incredibly tall, and also not easily cowed by an angry glare. So combat it is.

Darkrai goes into a fighting stance, and out of the corner of his eye, sees Celebi do the same.

And then, the fight starts, with Darkrai using Dark Pulse, a move which normally fells even strong enemies. But of course, the Steelix do not have a particular weakness to it, and they are also feral Pokémon of the future, a time where even an ordinary Grovyle can almost best Darkrai in a fight, as long as he is under illusion. As such, they barely pause in their approach.

Celebi attacks almost as quickly as Darkrai did, but her Ancient Power only seems to do barely more than no damage at all.

“Why use that instead of Magical Leaf?!” Darkrai chastises her, because he has seen her use the other attack before, and that would certainly help much more against these giants.

“Can’t use that one more than once, anymore!” she explains, evading a Slam by one of the Steelix.

Darkrai wants to shout at her to use it anyways, because what does it matter if she could have technically used the attack one more time if she is a rotting corpse on the ground, but then, he gets much too busy trying to evade a Rock Tomb one of the Steelix used, as well as getting sand out of his mouth. He manages to do so in time, although two or three of the boulders manage to skim his skin. He hisses at the burning pain, but can’t care about it for very long, because the other Steelix tries to slam into him, now.

This is one thing he hates about the Pokémon of the future – they do not take their time to wait their turn. Which Darkrai also does not, but still, that is beside the point.

Barely avoiding the slam, he attacks with Ominous Wind, somewhat clueless as to what would help best against these two giants. Both Steelix are uncommonly long, and Darkrai is not sure whether that is due to age, or because of this future.

But that really does not matter when one of them suddenly whirls around to attack with a lash of its tail. Because even though Darkrai moves out of the way, he does not account for the extra size. And suddenly, he finds the tip of a tail impacting with first the hands he tried to raise defensively, and then with the chest he lacked the strength to defend with them.

He feels himself thrown to the ground, and that impact also hurts, but definitely much less than his chest.

Instead of continuing the fight, he just lies there, uselessly, until a painful cough makes its way up his throat and he has to turn to his side, for fear of suffocating on it if not. He lies there, coughing, and each breath in, he swallows more of the sand flying around, and then, he coughs even harder, and harder, and harder.

In what might be the distance, or maybe right next to him, he can hear something fall, but barely perceives it, and instead, he coughs.

And suddenly, there is actual air for him to breath, as well as something touching his back, or actually, hitting it. Even though he hates the touch, the strong pats on his back help, and it finally feels like the sand leaves his lungs. The air no longer featuring a sandstorm certainly helps with that, and it also feels as if something like a healing attack washes over him. Nothing to heal the actual physical injuries, but to clear out his lungs the tiniest bit more, and to help him blink the sand out of his eye.

If he had to guess, he would say that Celebi used Heal Bell, an attack she already used previously during their trek through the Dungeon.

Finally, after a little more coughing and sitting up, and also realizing that Celebi sits to his right, he grumbles, “I really hate this future of yours.” And then, he coughs again.

Celebi makes a noise, which might be a giggle, or a laugh, or maybe something else entirely. “We all do,” she tells him.

Darkrai lightly shakes his head, for no reason whatsoever. “I thought I wouldn’t, at least not that much. Darkness sounds nice for a dark… for dark- and ghost-types. But your future is horrid, and I can’t wait to ever stop it from existing.”

This time, Celebi clearly laughs. “Neither can Emerald and I! And Pearl, too, when she still remembered.” Then, she becomes quiet, only a slight ‘Oh’, slipping out.

“Oh what—” Darkrai asks, and then, he coughs again. Celebi pats his back, and this time, he shakes his head, to show that he does not need her touching him. She does not get it, and so, the moment there is clear air in his lungs and mouth again, he tells her, “Stop touching me.”

It sounds a little snappish, it sounds a little angry, and Celebi removes her hand from his back.

“You don’t like touch?”

“I don’t,” Darkrai ascertains, and looks – glares – at Celebi. She does not even look at him to appreciate it.

“Sorry!” she tells him instead, and then, finally, she looks at him again, a grin on her face. “It won’t happen again, then!” Pondering, she puts her hand beneath her chin. “Unless you are choking to death. I won’t let you suffocate, sorry.”

Darkrai is not sure whether he should be thankful or not, and so, he just stares at the two unconcious Steelix lying before them – Celebi must have finally used Magical Leaf. At least he thinks they are knocked out, it is not as if a Steelix visibly breathes. And neither Grovyle nor Dusknoir seem to care if they…

“Will they…?” he starts to ask, then trails off.

“No worries!” Celebi tells him very quickly, “They’re knocked out for good!” Placing one of her hands in the other, and moving them in a way which clearly tells how nervous she is, she adds, “Emerald thinks I should make sure they don’t get up ever again, but…” She sighs. “Guess that’s just not me, even if it’s more dangerous. I’d rather run away or hide, you know?”

Darkrai nods, because, actually, just this once, he does know. “I understand,” he tells her, because…

Because… Whatever. Because there’s still sand in his mouth. There. That is his reason. Nothing else.

Both of them fall quiet for a while, until Darkrai coughs again, and decides, that is certainly enough sitting uselessly on the ground. Putting his hand against the wall, he pushes himself up, grimacing at the pain he feels. Cursed Steelix.

Carefully, he moves his hands back and forth. The pain does not increase, and quietly, he exhales a sigh of relief. Not broken or sprained, then. Bruised, most definitely, but the pain will fade quickly enough.

Celebi also stands up, and then flies up. “Everything alright?”

“Of course,” Darkrai tells her.

“Great!” she says, smiling. “Say, I’ve been wondering, that badge on your bag, what’s that? It’s so pretty!”

Darkrai turns to look at it. It is Pearl’s and his old explorer’s badge, still displaying the Bronze Rank they had when he had to claim the bag as stolen. They were granted the Silver Rank shortly after they brought Azelf back to Treasure Town, Wigglytuff himself pushing the new badge into Pearl’s hands with no words spoken. Darkrai is not sure if there should have been an actual ceremony for it – Chatot’s reaction when they gave back their temporary badge certainly indicated it – but Darkrai much preferred Wigglytuff’s method.

“An explorer’s badge,” he tells her, because nothing is lost by changing the topic to something which does not feel so very intimate. “It’s used by exploration teams to—”

“Darcy! Celebi!” someone cries, someone who is obviously Pearl. She emerges from the corridor the Steelix came from, stepping over their knocked out forms with not a care in the world. Right behind her is Grovyle, and even his eyes widen as he looks at Celebi and Darkrai. He seems… surprisingly happy, to see them. Well, to see Celebi, probably. Darkrai is aware that he is very much not part of any positive emotions Grovyle might feel.

“You’re okay!” Pearl adds, and Celebi nods excitedly. “Obviously! You think anything could take us out, just because we’re separated from you?” She laughs.

Pearl laughs, too. “No, no, I never meant to make it seem like I doubt your fighting prowess! Just glad to see you both.”

Darkrai thinks she just says that to be polite, but he still cannot help the way it feels as if his heart gets a little lighter, the moment he is included again.

 

And then, finally, the trudge through the accursed Dungeon behind them, the Passage of Time before them, they step forward and—

“Stop there!” shouts someone who Darkrai really, truly, hates, “That will do!”

Well. What an unpleasant surprise… this must be for the others.

And there, Dusknoir stands, between their group and the Passage of Time. Four Sableye are positioned next to him. Darkrai forces down the grin (grimace) that wants to steal onto his face at their diminished number.

“Hello to you all. It’s been a while.” Dusknoir’s pleasant greeting and demeanour really do paint him as the one firmly in control. If there is one thing he is good at, Darkrai will admit, it is playing a role. And the one he is playing right now? Dialga’s loyal henchman who would never let anyone get back to the past. Even if in the past, the only cure for a certain ailment a certain underling of his is afflicted with could be found.

“Although I must admit that it is sad to see a certain someone choosing the wrong side after all,” he then addresses Darkrai directly – because Darkrai is to play the role he knows best, and that is the one of a traitor. A traitor who never cared about the other’s feelings, and only about surviving.

“There was never anything to choose,” Darkrai claims, tone frosty. He does not even have to fake that, although Dusknoir might not be aware. So much proof as to Darkrai’s superiority, and yet, everyone likes to overlook it, time and time again. He glares at Dusknoir. “I was never on your side, but you did not want to believe it.”

Dusknoir’s acting skills are to be applauded, because he manages to look actually hurt by these words. Oh, of course, Darkrai knows himself to play just as well, but still. It is, unfortunately, impressive.

He wonders how Dusknoir’s actual reaction to Darkrai’s betrayal would look, though. Not nearly as calm, he is sure. The anger would seep through, instead of this quiet melancholy Dusknoir projects now.

Well, if he ever meets Dusknoir again, he might get to know what it would actually look like.

Finally, Dusknoir lets out a laugh. He also attempts to say something else, but is interrupted by Grovyle.

“You! So Duskull led you to us, after all!”

… Did Grovyle not just listen to their entire spiel of Darkrai not being on Dusknoir’s side any longer?

“He did not,” Dusknoir says, and thank you! At least someone is trying to help Darkrai seem totally innocent. “After I found my door picked open, it really was more of a matter of following the only possible route… And the pawprints of Pokémon who do not float.”

Pearl stares at the ground, as if only just realizing that, indeed, she leaves those, and so does Grovyle. Well, maybe they do not leave them on stone, but enough places they passed through had either dirt or thin dust covering them.

“And so,” Darkrai speaks up, trying his best to sound very angry, and not giddy, “You let us roam free while keeping an eye on us, creating a false sense of relative security. This way, you would find not just us, but Celebi and the Passage of Time, as well.”

And, well, none of this is a lie. It is what Dusknoir and Darkrai had come up with earlier – although ‘coming up’, Darkrai thinks, is quite a strong term for something which is so very obvious to do. Even Cresselia knows this method of stalking.

“Indeed. You are quite sharp to see this,” Dusknoir easily agrees, a note of regret slipping into his voice, as if he is mourning the alliance they could have had, and then, steel slips into his voice as he continues, “But even if your scurrying carried you far, I am sad to say… It’s all over now.”

The Sableye move closer around them, trying to form a circle. They lack the numbers to actually do so.

“You think you and your goons’ll overpower us that easily?” Grovyle goads, ignoring the affronted gasps by at least two Sableye, “It’s thr—, four on five!”

Well. Great to know that, finally, Grovyle believes Darkrai to somewhat be on his side. And it only took what, Dusknoir playing along with Darkrai’s schemes? It really is a shame that he is so infuriating, and also so very loyal to Primal Dialga. He could have made a great henchman.

“Yeah!” Celebi joins in, “We’ll gladly take these odds!” She laughs. Maybe traversing the Dungeon together made her overly confident. And sure, they made a good enough team of four, but Dusknoir? Dusknoir is on a different level.

…As long as Darkrai is still under the illusion. But, well, for the play to continues as it should, he will act along, fight Dusknoir and the Sableye a little, and then escape to the past. Easy enough to accomplish, especially if the strongest player actually wants to let you get away.

“Spare yourselves the effort. You have no chance of successfully defeating me,” Dusknoir answers, a grin slowly overtaking his face (his eye?). But…

But to Darkrai, something seems wrong. Because although Dusknoir looks at Grovyle as he tells them so, for a flicker of a moment, he looks at Darkrai instead – and that same moment, the grin slips off his face.

What…?

“We won’t know that for sure… until we try!” Grovyle challenges, and Celebi, an almost-teasing grin on her face, adds, “Try fighting all of us at once and see if we are really as weak as you seem to think!” and even Pearl nods along, determination on her face…

But Darkrai can only try to decipher what Dusknoir’s change in mien meant. He would not pull back from their plan, would he? No. No, he wants to save Artabasdos. About that, Darkrai is sure.

But what, he suddenly realizes, what if Dusknoir decided that just Darkrai getting to the past was enough for that purpose?

No, no! They need at least Grovyle to get to the past too, or else, Primal Dialga won’t understand the need for Dusknoir to travel to the past again, as well! After all it had… had branded Darkrai as weak. And going after a weak target is a loss of resources. So…

Darkrai has the horrifying realization that this means that Dusknoir would see no need for Pearl to get to the past. In fact… In fact, Dusknoir must have planned this all along. Allow Grovyle and Darkrai to get to the past, keep Pearl (and Celebi too, probably) in the future… to ensure that there will be one more confrontation with Grovyle, at least. Because Dusknoir realized who Pearl is, and he knows Grovyle’s loyalty towards her. Because he knows that Celebi is the only one ensuring Grovyle a way to and from the future.

Because he knows that Grovyle will not allow himself the loss of both, and that he will try to save them.

But… But Darkrai needs Pearl to make it to the past. He needs her to be safe!

… Because the moment she isn’t, Darkrai’s days are counted. Because if just Grovyle and Darkrai make it to the past, Grovyle will never stop hating Darkrai. Because…

Because…

Because Darkrai needs Pearl to be safe.

“So you want to resist?” Dusknoir asks. Darkrai is about to attack him there and then, thoughts only on his coming betrayal. Because this is Dusknoir’s plan, he is sure. Dusknoir, who abused Darkrai’s plan to make a profit on. A profit which will literally spell Darkrai’s death, if he gets it.

He wonders, if he just watches him intently enough, will he see the exact moment the betrayal happens? Not the lead-up, not the result, not the aftermath. The exact moment that Dusknoir tries to ring Darkrai’s death bell?

“You all…” the ghost continues, unaware that Darkrai has seen through him, unaware what devastation his plan will bring, “Are you really such fools as to think that I’d come alone?”

And Darkrai realizes that he was wrong.

Dusknoir does not plan to keep Pearl here. Because for that, he would never show regret. No, what Darkrai saw was the slightest hint of guilt and concern. But for what?

“Your Sableye don’t hold a candle against us!” Celebi claims, and “We’ll manage!” Pearl asserts, but the rapid beating of Darkrai’s heart starts to drown their voices out before they even have the chance to properly register.

Guilt. Concern. Exactly the same emotions he saw, but could then not identify, when they were about to meet—

A roar.

A roar interrupts his thoughts – it must be so loud, it could be heard everywhere in the world, Darkrai thinks.

Then, a horrid sound, one which is supposed to be a laugh. A laugh he could not recognize for what it was the first time he heard it. He still wants to refuse its existence. No laugh is supposed to sound so very much like a harbinger of destruction.

And then, Primal Dialga appears on the mountain’s top.

Darkrai feels cold. The tips of his fingers seem dead, and his heart gets caught in the stillness between two beats. Is this what dying of hypothermia feels like?

His heart picks up its beat, then, and Darkrai wonders if one can die of hypothermia if their heart beats so very fast.

Guilt and concern. Guilt, because Dusknoir knows Darkrai will now die. Concern, because Dusknoir… might not want Darkrai to die.

Concern. This is what Darkrai grabs unto – that Dusknoir had shown concern. He is sure of it! He is not misinterpreting things! Dusknoir wants him to live. He must want him to live. Because only through Darkrai can Artabasdos survive. And that, Dusknoir certainly wants.

He forces his legs to stand up again – when did he fall? And forces his eyes open – when did he close them? And forces his ears to listen anew – when did they stop to do so?

“What’s wrong, everyone, Grovyle? Where’s your bravado now?” Dusknoir goads, but there, at the word ‘everyone’, Darkrai does not miss it, right then and there, his eye flickers over to Darkrai once again, singles him out from the group, and there is concern.

Grovyle has obviously lost the mentioned bravado. Instead, he just stammers out, “This… is it for us…”

It is strange, seeing him so… accepting of his fate. He never struck Darkrai as someone who gives up so easily. But it is not ‘easily’, is it? The thing before them, above them, is Primal Dialga.

There’s no way, no way that they could ever take it on, could fight it and win.

And… And if it was Dialga before them, maybe they could talk him out of it, or at least only get knocked out.

But Primal Dialga? Primal Dialga kills.

Darkrai can only hope that Dusknoir has a plan that allows their survival.

“Aren’t we going to fight?!” Pearl, the one who cannot understand the horror she is facing, cries out, her stance widened as if she is prepared to do just that.

“There’s no chance,” Darkrai darkly whispers, because that is the truth. “We either give up now and get killed by Primal Dialga, or we try to fight and get killed even faster.”

“What?!” Pearl doesn’t want to believe it, obviously.

“I’m sorry to let all of you down. This is where it ends,” Grovyle says, and as much as Darkrai would celebrate the grass-type’s death, he still needs him. He still needs him. He glares at Dusknoir, trying to tell him so with no words.

“Well, w-we can’t just give up!” Pearl cries, “Come on! Everyone, please!” Panic is clear in her voice but still, she tries to remain steadfast. She’s really someone to look up to, huh? Or maybe, it is just ignorance which gives her the power to believe herself mighty enough to survive Primal Dialga.

But then, Primal Dialga roars again, and this time, it finally stares at them – and then the most horrible thing happens: It fixates Darkrai with a gaze, and suddenly, there’s something like recognition in its eyes. It cannot—

Its following roar this time is deafening, but it’s much more than a normal roar – although hard to make out, Darkrai can clearly hear the words, “YOU! YOU DARE!”

Primal Dialga… recognizes him? No, no, no! He was supposed to be insignificant, forgettable, pathetic! A monster, yes, but a weak one! No one to threaten Primal Dialga, no one to be remembered! So, why does it remember?

“Celebi!” Pearl cries, and she whispers something, but Darkrai cannot even pretend to listen, because he instead stares at the angered Primal Dialga. He thought Primal Dialga was bad when he first saw it, but back then, it was in what might be a good mood. And now? Now, he can almost touch its anger, its madness.

And then, suddenly, something touches Darkrai, something – someone? – grabs him, and then—

—up is down, and right is left, and the present is but a part of the past, and the future is only—

Something shatters. Time, he realizes. Time, he wonders.

Darkrai, panting heavily, finds himself next to the other three, just in front of the activated Passage of Time. What…?

Celebi. Celebi must’ve pulled them along through time – and it could not have been more than a few seconds – and space simultaneously. Not far, not far at all, just so that they got closer to the Passage of Time, just enough that Dusknoir is no longer cutting their way off.

“In! Now! All of you!” Celebi screeches, and positions herself between them and the backs of Dusknoir and his henchmen.

“But what about you?!” Pearl cries.

“I need to keep Dialga from destroying your way back!” She grins. The grin wavers, unsurely, but it stays right on her face. “No need to worry! Just change history, yeah?”

Something like understanding passes between her and Grovyle. He nods, grabs Pearl, and pulls her into the Passage alongside him. Darkrai stares at their retreating forms, their disappearing backs, for a moment… and he hesitates. He knows he must follow them. He knows Celebi will keep their way back safe.

And yet…

A feeling – of food gone bad, of a long sickness, of the impact after a deep fall – settles in his stomach, and instead of forward, he takes a step back. He… He can’t. He needs to, he needs to, but—

But—

“You too!” Celebi shouts, punching or grabbing or shaking his shoulder. Darkrai shakes himself too, and nods, and—

Primal Dialga roars. Darkrai stumbles. Dusknoir turns. Celebi screams.

The Passage of Time shatters.

And Darkrai is still in the future.

For a few seconds, the knowledge does not hit home. Darkrai just stands there, caught in his movement, turned to look at the space where the Passage was but a moment ago, but just… is not, anymore.

And then, the realization sets in.

He is still in the future. This was his only way of getting to the past. And now, it’s gone.

It’s gone.

But Primal Dialga is still here. He does not need to look to know, now that he has become aware of what its presence feels like. Dusknoir is still here, staring at him with a panic-widened eye. Celebi stares at Darkrai, too.

This is not what they had planned.

Why… why did he not get into the Passage in Time? Why was there this strange feeling of dread, why did he not just ignore it?! He can’t… He won’t be able to escape Primal Dialga! Not like this, not ever like this.

Primal Dialga roars, it shouts, it demands, “KILL THEM!”, although it sounds much closer like “KILL HIM!”, and maybe that is what Primal Dialga actually said. Its voice makes the ground rumble, makes some stones caught in time finally continue their fall, makes them impact with the ground after centuries of being caught just above it.

No one of them even manages to react properly to this strange sight.

Instead, for a tiny moment, Dusknoir lingers, and so do his Sableye. So very, very loyal. So very intent on saving the one from their midst who is slowly dying.

Dusknoir stares at Darkrai, at the only chance he had to let someone escape death, the chance which failed, before Darkrai could even try. And for a tiny moment, his eye flickers up towards Primal Dialga – the one he calls Master Dialga, the one whose wrath he fears even more than his own bitter memories, the one whose every bidding he has always done, the one whose intent to kill will jump from foe to friend if there is even a second more of hesitation.

Darkrai can see each and every of Dusknoir’s thoughts reflected clearly on his face.

And then, Dusknoir moves forward. Something bitter creeps into his mien as he advances, but still, he does. He is not quick, he does not attack immediately, and neither do his Sableye. And Darkrai realizes that this is as much as they think they can give – just a few seconds more, a few seconds for Darkrai to find a way out of yet another situation which’s end seems already predetermined.

Darkrai does not want to die.

Or maybe… Maybe, that is a lie. Maybe he does, but he wants it to be quick and painless and unnoticed. On his own terms. Once he’s accepted who he is, again.

And like this, it won’t be.

He reaches for the powers he knows he must possess, right now, but they don’t respond, because of course they do not. The illusion is too draining, the illusion is too much for him to do much else.

And he decides that he won’t die. He won’t die here, he won’t die now, he won’t let these horrid thoughts wishing for his presence to be cleansed from this world win today, or any other day. He had fought them so often, and he had won, and he won’t let someone else decide that he suddenly is to die. No matter the cost.

He lets the illusion fall away, ignores how Dusknoir stops in his tracks, how his eye seems to widen much more than is physically possible, ignores how even the mouth on his belly seems to open in a breathless gasp. He ignores the scream from the mad beast atop its throne of stone, ignores the Sableye taking an instinctive step back, ignores his own thoughts trying to tell him that he deserves this. For creating this world. For being too much of a coward to face it. For being to weak, being too scared, being a monster.

He ignores them all, and instead calls unto the powers which are his once again.

They are quick to respond, barely someone there to keep space from his manipulation, barely someone there to keep time safe. He feels a pull just behind him, as if he is standing on the edge of a cliff, a pull he knows from Dimensional Holes.

The thought of jumping in almost makes him throw up, and the thought of doing so alone scares him even more. Pure instinct makes him grab for Celebi – time, his head tells him later, she can travel through time, she must be able to keep you safe – and then, he has fallen backwards and he—

—falls through space and time—

—is falling through time and space—

—will fall through space—

—was going to fall through time—

—will be falling through space—

—fell through time—

—and has fallen through space—

—is going to fall through time—

—will have fallen through space and time—

—and he lands with a loud noise, and the air is pushed out of his lungs, and he falls… unconscious.

 

Notes:

[Darkrai refuses to address the rising problems, once again. Just continues digging a bigger hole in which to bury them in. Does not realize that digging the hole is what’s creating all these problems.]

 

Hi! So glad to be back!

Warning, this will be a long note, so strap in, or, if you are in a hurry, there’s a tl;dr at the end of the note!

Okay, so, first of all an update about the entire reason for this hiatus! Editing took way more time than I ever anticipated, because deep down, I am a perfectionist. And even though I know that I will NEVER reach the perfection I seek, and thought I had accepted that, a part of me still craves it, and tries to achieve it. Which makes editing… take very, very long. Right now, I’ve gotten to Chapter 12, and then I started concentrating on writing some new stuff instead. I will continue my editing work, but it will be much more laid back and not impact the future updates of the fic (hopefully).
For most chapters, if I remembered to take notes, I wrote down the most important things which were done/changed. Those, I will add to the end of the Chapter Notes, so if you do not feel like re-reading an entire fic just to figure out the differences, but still want to know what’s new, you can just scroll down to the very end and look at that overview! The most important changes will also be mentioned at the end of this note, as well.

Now, unto the question of updates: The next chapter might be uploaded soon… ish, but unfortunately, I cannot promise anything. Until yesterday, I was convinced that I would split today’s chapter into two parts, but then, lying in bed, decided “Screw it, my readers will get the longest chapter yet, they deserve it after the long wait”. And while Chapter 23 is already pretty much finished, Chapter 22 is not, so… yeah.
Moreover, I still won’t have a proper upload schedule. Although I did start writing ahead, editing took/takes way longer than I ever anticipated, so while there are some things prepared, and more things outlined, many parts are not written, and yeah. Just keep expecting a chapter by the end or beginning of a month!

That brings us to the topic of… reviews, I guess. So, thing is, I kinda wanna apologize? Because it always takes me so long to answer comments, and I feel like I interact badly or not enough with others, and… yeah. I’m pretty sure that I am being too hard on myself, but at the same time, I think I’m being too easy. Behind each comment is a real human (except for that one bot comment I got, which made me feel like I’m now a proper fanfic author, because even a bot targeted me!), and waiting days or even weeks for me to finally acknowledge that you exist is… not nice. I guess I might have some sort of anxiety when it comes to answering comments, because I always need some days to mentally prepare myself to do it, and it easily overwhelms me, and I always need some time to recover from it, and wow, now that I write it, none of that seems healthy. It’s the same for most other online (or real life) interactions, so if you ever don’t hear from me in far too long… Yeah. That’s kinda why. Anyways. I still want to apologize for always taking so long to get to comments, and to also assure everyone that I WILL answer, it just… takes time.

And now, because I fear that this note is getting close to being too long, the most important Edit-Hiatus-Changes:
-) Chapter 4: a mention of Darkrai knowing about Celebi was taken out, he is now entirely unaware as to the means of Grovyle’ and Pearl’s time travel
-) Chapter 5: some added scenes, which feature some worldbuilding
-) Chapter 8: a little more interaction with Uxie (but really not much)
-) (edit 17.02.2023) multiple scenes: Darkrai remembers pretty much nothing as to how he landed in the past. That might still be a discrepancy for the not-yet-edited chapters, but just know that he's supposed to remember almost nothing, except 'he had some kind of plan, Pearl somehow stopped it, and somehow he landed in the past'
And those are the most important things, I guess! Although I will admit, my note-taking about the changes was sometimes… quite lacking.
And now, the promised…

tl;dr: am still not done with editing, but uploads will go back to roughly once a month, am sorry that answering comments always takes me so long, and most important changes during the edit-hiatus

Finally, Happy Holidays to those who might celebrate something around this time of the year, and just great days in general to those who do not!

Chapter 23: The Tale of the Doomed Prince

Summary:

Last Chapter: Pearl, Grovyle and Darkrai ventured through the dark future to meet Celebi, with the hope that she would be able to send them back to the past. Once they found her, Pearl’s previous identity of Grovyle’s and Celebi’s human friend was revealed, and a quick reunion was had. However, once they arrived at the Passage of Time, which would allow them to travel back, the four were confronted by Dusknoir, and, to their horror, Primal Dialga. Pearl and Grovyle managed to flee through the passage, however Darkrai and Celebi remained behind. In a panic, Darkrai dropped his illusion of a Duskull, to be able to create his own Dimensional Hole, which Celebi and he fled through. And then, he blacked out.

Notes:

THIS CHAPTER HAS TRIGGER WARNINGS! Please continue reading for the specifics.

This chapter deals with some very heavy topics. If you are not in a good head space, or mentally unwell, I would advise you to not read it right now. If you DO want to read parts, you can strg+f to “Uxie” and start reading from that scene. It will still be a heavy chapter, but the first part is most definitely the worst. If you do not want to read it at all, know that there will be a “Last Chapter”-summary of it once the next chapter gets posted, and that the story can also be understood without it.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Depression, Internalized Self-Hate, Suicidal Ideation (in a way of ‘just not waking up again’), (faintly) Implied Suicide Attempt, Victim Blaming (in the way of holding someone responsible for something they cannot control); and just really bad views about mental health in general (like telling oneself to just ‘stop being depressed’, basically)

One possible trigger, namely Implied Suicide Attempt and/or Suicidal ideation, aremarked with “+++1+++” where it starts and “+++2+++” where it ends. If you want to avoid these parts, they are marked for that.

She wakes up after the sun has already set, and fervently wishes that she could have remained asleep instead.

But fate has yet to be so kind, and so, she is awake instead and will have to face yet another night on her own. Which is… alright. It’s alright. She can deal with that. She has done it often enough. She will continue doing it.

Sometimes, she tries to tell herself that being here is her own choice. That it has nothing to do with her sister.

And it is! It is her choice. It really is. She knows it is. Nothing is keeping her here. She could get up, right at this very moment, and just… leave.

But, as always, she continues lying on the ground she calls her bed, instead. Even if she is aware that she should really stop with that. Lying around uselessly helps no one. Absolutely no one. Yet she ignores that, most nights. It is not as if anyone but her is affected by it, after all. Lying around here, not doing anything at all, that hurts just her.

(Does it?)

It does, she tells herself, as she always does when those unwanted thoughts pop up. And yet, today at least, the thoughts do their job, as she feels bad enough to finally force herself off the rough ground. Does she have blankets she could use, to make it more comfortable? Oh, of course, much too many. Will she use them? Obviously not, because there is no reason to make it more pleasant. Sleeping is not supposed to be fun, she does just as well on the ground, and besides, she does not deserve the blankets.

In any way, she forces herself up, and then spends the next few minutes just staring ahead, unseeing. Finally, she blinks slowly, then shakes herself. She must have spaced out. But how long…? Too long, the position of the stars tells her. Instead of the sky, she finally looks at the trees surrounding her, then. It’s a useless thing to do, because they look exactly as they did the night before today. And every night before that. They are all evergreen conifers, and not even the changing seasons seem to have an impact on them.

Just like her, in a way. But at least they are not constantly trying to become someone else and failing.

… What a silly thought.

Even though she would rather not, she makes sure to eat and drink something, and to go through the rest of her usual wake-up-ritual. After that…

After that, she sits down, not sure how to continue.

There is a lot she could do. There is a lot she should do, too. But… But she really can’t be bothered to do it, right now. Because… Because she is lazy, she tells herself. Yes. She is lazy, has been for way too long. That’s the reason.

After all, nothing else would explain why, with so much to do, she still decides not to do anything again, and again, and again. She feels bad for that, at least. Which does not help anyone, at all, but… But at least she knows that what she is doing is wrong. And always, she will chastise herself for it, before going to sleep. The remorse about once again having been too lazy to do what she needs to will always keep her up for much too long.

Which she deserves. And besides, it is not like she really wants to go to sleep. She does not even need that much sleep!

Really, she should at least get started on all the things she ought to do. Doing even the tiniest bit of something is better than doing nothing yet again.

But in the end, she just stares at the clear night sky, the stars, the moon. She imagines another life, a life in which she was not quite so lazy. And once the sun starts to rise, she allows herself to go back to sleep on the hard ground.

 

Just as usual, she wakes as the sun is about to set, and instead of doing anything productive, she just watches it sink beneath the horizon. Some days, and today as well, she imagines it being swallowed up by the ocean, never to return again. Would that not be nice? No more days, just nights.

…No, she decides. No, that would be very much the opposite of nice. Just nights would mean just staying awake. Just staying awake would mean wasting time, without even having the chance to sleep half the time away. And that… That, she would not want. Even though she knows that she would certainly have to do more useful things, if she had to stay awake all the time.

Not that a missing sun would force her to remain awake all the time. But… But certainly, she would find herself sleeping much less without the excuse of harsh sunlight she wants to evade.

And, once again, instead of doing productive things, she is wasting the night away with useless tasks. Watching the sun disappear, imagining things which will never come to pass… There is so very much she should do, but no, instead, she just wastes time. Lazy. So very lazy.

Then again, things have been calm. No unannounced visitors, no real arguments with her sister, no one who’d actually want to see her. So, really, is there anything else to do but stay where she is?

… She could take a walk around the island. She has not done that in a while. And maybe then, she could gather some energy to do more useful things.

Like… making that list she wanted to make, so she would not forget the things she always tends to forget. She always wants to make those lists, but forgets to do so in a timely manner, and once she gets to making them, has already forgotten what she wanted to write down.

But if she really goes for that walk, maybe she would find some nice stones on the beach. Or if she is especially lucky, she might even find some pretty driftwood. She could gift that to her sister… But what for? Her sister probably has enough of that, already. She can certainly get some of her own, and then choose the ones she actually really wants, instead of having to act thankful for the horrible gifts presented to her. She knows that her sister wants other things, but what those things are, she… is not entirely sure anymore. That’s also a list she had been wanting to start. ‘Things I thought she might like but which she really did not and which I should therefore avoid’.

How stupid she is, letting herself forget all these things.

The thought fills her throat with bile she has to swallow down again. She’s just so useless. Why can’t she stop being so lazy, so empty-headed, so useless? She feels tears rise up, but forces them back down. She does not deserve to cry. Crying is only for actually painful things, not…

Not whatever she’s making herself belief she’s feeling. She just needs to get over herself, stop being so drained all the time. She does not deserve to feel these emotions, so she does not get to take the easy route of letting them out by crying!

… Taking a walk has suddenly lost all its lustre.

+++1+++

And so, another day passes with her just lazing around and then falling asleep. She really, really wishes she did not have to ever wake up again.

+++2+++

 

The evening of the next day, she feels the drive she has been lacking so much, lately. Lately? Is lately truly the right word? Because it has been going on for years already, has it not?

But she lacks anything better to call it. So ‘lately’ it will stay.

In any way, she finally finds that drive within her, and so, she stands up before the sun has even fully disappeared, and she moves out of the little cave she guesses is supposed to be her home, and then she… flounders. She is not quite sure what she should do with that drive. There are so many things which have been piling up while she was just being lazy, and she does not even know where to start.

And just like that, the energy is gone, and she spends yet another day lazing around.

 

The next day, there’s no energy yet again, but the day after, Arceus seems to be kind to her, for once. She wakes up and feels as if she could take on the world, that day.

And instead of lingering on all the things she has to do, she just does what she can think of in the moment. She collects the things she will need, lays them out to make sure she has everything important with her – and it does not look like enough, and she is sure she has forgotten some things, as always, but she guesses it will have to suffice…

… and then, she leaves her island.

 

She arrives on a familiar beach just as the sun is about to rise, which… she is not happy about, because it means that she will have to stay here to sleep, at the very least. Travelling the ocean is exhausting, even if it is just a few hours. Floating is great and all, but traversing water instead of solid ground exhausts her much more quickly.

Still, she will need to sleep here. Which is… alright. It’s alright. She can deal with that. Really, she can! One measly day on this island won’t kill her.

And so, she moves from the beach into the tiny forest, meanders between the trees, takes her usual path, and then, she comes upon her sister’s home. It does not seem any different from the outside, but when has it ever? It’s a small cave mouth, those do not tend to look very exiting.

She peeks inside, but cannot spot her sister. Which is strange, because at this time of day, she has usually already returned here to sleep. She is a little more sensitive when it comes to the sunlight, and also never loses sight of time quite so badly as to not notice the sun rising. No, normally she would have already returned to her cave, so this is strange. But it is also not so uncommon that she needs to worry about it. Sometimes, her sister does lose track of time. Sometimes, she does enjoy watching the sun rise. Sometimes, she prefers sleeping somewhere else. And sometimes, her sister just avoids her until she feels ready for the forced interactions they will have.

So it’s strange, but not uncommon.

Instead of worrying, she puts down the sack of things she carried, and she thinks about maybe searching for her sister, but then decides against it. Knowing her luck, they will just not pass each other anyway. Fondly, she remembers one particular misadventure where they both had waited at the same big rock formation for each other, and simultaneously moved to look if the other was on the opposite side, completely missing each other every time. They’d managed to do so three times before finally not syncing up quite so well, and, once they saw each other, accused the other of being the belated one. They both had needed some time to become calm enough to see the humour in the situation, of course, but then, they had not been able to stop giggling about it the entire day.

Nowadays…. Nowadays, she is not sure either of them could get themselves to think it funny, and not just stay angry.

… So, yes. Waiting here, where she knows her sister will come, sooner or later, is much safer.

 

When the sun sinks beneath the horizon, and she realizes that she had fallen asleep, and also that there is still no sister, she starts to worry. She looks at the sack she had put down, but it has not been touched at all, and so, she worries even more.

Searching for her sister it is, then.

“Darkrai?” she cries, but obviously, no answer comes.

Cresselia moves outside her sister’s home, and although the tiny forest is right in front of it, she does not move to search there. Sure, there are enough hiding places, especially for someone with the annoying ability of passing through things, but… But she knows Darkrai. At least… At least when it comes to certain things. And her sister is much more likely to be either on one of the beaches, or at the cliffs. The beaches sounds safe. The cliffs… Make her heart beat sharper and worry claw at her chest.

The cliffs, she decides, the cliffs need to be investigated first.

The way there feels as if it passes in the blink of an eye, and it feels as if it takes two eternities. But then, finally, she arrives, and the moon’s still in the sky, chasing away the stars’ light, and not much time has passed at all. A breeze is blowing here, as it always does. She does not linger to enjoy it.

There’s the one rock her sister said she likes to sit on, but she is not there. There’s the one rock she found her on before, but she is also not there, either. And then, Cresselia starts looking no longer at the cliffs before her, but at the spaces between.

+++1+++

If… If…

Last time was such a close call, and if she is too late now, she… she…

+++2+++

She searches, first staring from above, navigating between rocks, and then when that yields no results, she carefully makes her way down. Floating has never been the same as flying, and unlike her sister, she has no hands or legs to help her along on the climb down. She could just jump, of course, and hope to catch herself in time, because it’s not too high for that, but…

But if she does hurt herself while doing so, she won’t be able to help Darkrai if she is in any way hurt, so…

So being careful it is. ‘For once’, Darkrai would add, if she could hear her, and she would be entirely incorrect. Cresselia is always careful, her method of carefulness just makes space for being clumsy. ‘You mean being brash?’ Darkrai would always sass, then, when she tried to clear that up.

At least… At least Darkrai would have done so, before… Before all of this. On this island, her sister lost something, and although Cresselia does not want to call it her ‘spark’, because that does not actually describe what it is, it… feels the closest to it. But how can one use words to even describe the intangible? How could one call the things one only experiences through hints of emotions, the things one sees in movements they don’t even perceive, what can only be heard in whispers never spoken out loud? What Darkrai seems to have lost is a part of her but it is not, is something so very deep down within her soul that nothing could ever truly name it.

So caught up is Cresselia with trying to grasp the ungraspable, she loses her purchase. A gasp escapes her, and time, instead of slowing down, as it supposedly does when one is in a dangerous situation, is over before it has started and she finds herself lying on the ground. She stares up at an uncaring night sky and contemplates whether she is in pain or not, because time has not caught up with her yet, and neither have any hurts she might have. Finally, she takes a deep breath – because apparently, the air got pushed out of her when her body impacted with the ground – and forces herself upright again. She can feel the hint of pain which will get stronger once her body has caught up with it, mostly along her back, a little along her left side, but… nothing seems too damaged. Not broken, just bruised.

How… lucky. And yet another lesson as to why she really should pay attention to whatever she is doing at the moment.

But… But her own experience just now makes her worry. Darkrai has way more experience with these cliffs, but she will sometimes get lost in thought and not even notice it. Sometimes, she will just space out for a while, stand unmoving, but others… Others, her body will continue moving without her mind there to supply commands for it, and if that happened while she was here, and if she was at a higher point than Cresselia was…

Cresselia stares up at the tops of the cliffs. Where she landed, they are not much higher than three or four metres, and she was lucky enough to already have made her way down half the way. But further into the direction of the sea…

She starts searching for Darkrai.

With every point she can’t find her at, her heartbeat moves up, up, up, through her body, first hammering against her chest, then against her throat, then against her mouth. If she talked now, she fears that she would just stammer, her words interrupted by her escaping heart.

But after having searched the cliffs one, two, three times, her heart finally calms because she has to realize that, no, she did not miss anything. Darkrai is simply not here.

So that leaves the beaches and the forest, which will be much easier to search. She does not even have to get up again, because at their lowest point, the cliffs connect to the beach on the southern side of the island, the one made up of stones of any kind.

But when Cresselia reaches that beach, Darkrai is also not there. Not sitting on the edge it shares with the forest, not lying on the smaller stones asleep, not standing in the gently lapping water. No, she is nowhere on the southern beach.

Darkrai is also not on the eastern beach.

And once Cresselia searches the forest, she cannot find her there, either.

She arrives back at Darkrai’s home when the sun has just risen, utterly exhausted, but no sister found. Instead, she has to realize, to accept, that Darkrai is hiding from her.

It is not as if she had not done that a few times before, but at least those times, she stopped her silly game of hide and seek once Cresselia returned to the cave. Then, she would be sitting there, taunting Cresselia about how bad she is as a seeker. More seldomly, Darkrai would evade her for longer, though, just like today. And just like those other times, Cresselia cannot help but feel hurt by that, and then have that hurt turn into anger. How dare Darkrai? Here she is, taking the long journey to visit her, when she could visit so many others instead, and—

“Well, alright then!” Cresselia shouts at nothing and no-one, “Be like that, then! See if I care!”

These words spoken, she deflates. Her anger has no one to direct it at, and it’s not even a righteous anger. It’s not even as if Cresselia would visit others. Maybe in the past, she would, and she did, and she would tell Darkrai all about it every time she came to visit. And at first, Darkrai seemed to enjoy these stories, live vicariously through them when they both knew that she could not yet in another way. But at some point, her responses to the stories changed, and Cresselia needed a long while, but eventually, she stopped her retellings.

And now… Now, Cresselia has gotten lazy and visits no one, most of the time. But instead of admitting that towards Darkrai, she acts as if she still does, in off-hand comments and snarky answers. They are not true lies, but… deceptions. Omissions. Darkrai has not caught on, in any way.

Not that it matters. It did not manage to show Darkrai what she could gain by controlling her ability better, and Cresselia, even with her better controlled ability, stopped visiting those she liked to call ‘friends’, but who, in hindsight, seem more like ‘those who put up with her’.

Instead, she lazes around most days, and those she does not, she either gathers things she faintly remembers Darkrai wanting, or hates herself for being so lazy. She spends her days doing mindless things, and then, sometimes, she visits Darkrai and feels even more drained than before she left.

Something’s wrong with her, she is aware, in this second, in this tiny moment, but she will act as if she is not soon enough.

And now, Darkrai is ignoring her. Not just ignoring, but evading her, and doing so expertly. Cresselia has always been able to feel her sister’s presence to a certain degree, and if she could feel even the faintest trace of her, she would shout at her to show herself, but…

But Darkrai managed to evade her completely, so of what use would it be?

Instead, Cresselia just lies down to sleep, seeking comfort in dreams depicting a life where nothing had ever gone awry.

 

She leaves the island the evening of the next day. The sack remains behind, because even if Darkrai’s hiding for now, she’ll still need the things, and Cresselia believes that they won’t be slighted the same way she was. Whatever Darkrai ignored her for, the things inside the sack are not guilty of.

 

Before visiting the island again, she makes sure to gather everything she can think of that her sister might want or need. It takes far too long, because most days, she is still lazy, and on other days, she is too slow to catch up on everything which had piled up.

But after more time has passed than it should have, she makes the journey again, and she arrives on the island shortly after the sun has risen. She makes her way to her sister’s home, and does not even call her name once, because, well… Because she hopes Darkrai is sound asleep, and then, Cresselia could approach unnoticed and therefore unrejected.

And… and as draining as being around Darkrai can be, she just wants to make sure that her sister is doing okay.

If Darkrai wants to ignore her for some reason, that’s… that’s alright. Oh, Cresselia knows herself, and she will be hurt by it, and she will get angry because of that, and she won’t make it seem as if it’s okay, because words are hard and no matter how hard she tries, they always end up sounding wrong, and then everyone always misunderstands, but…

But if Darkrai wants to ignore her, Cresselia would understand. Her words probably would not be able to reflect that, but within her mind, she would understand.

So she just wants to assure herself that Darkrai is not hurt in any way, and if she has to creep up on her while she is asleep to do that, she absolutely will.

But as she gets closer to the cave, she notices that something… smells off. Rotting. At first, her heart shudders, because if… if… But she immediately calms herself. It does not smell like a rotting body. It smells like… like something gone bad, something which is not made of meat. Something else.

And so, she carefully approaches the cave, always trying to feel whether Darkrai might be close by or not. She cannot feel her presence, and although sometimes, her sister had proven especially sneaky, Cresselia is sure that this time, she truly is not in her cave. Finally, she enters it. Her eyes need a while to adjust, and so, at first, she sees nothing obvious. It is, however, clear that whatever is smelling that rotten is coming from in here. Another look around, with her eyes no longer half blind from the sun outside also tells her just what it must be: The sack she brought here last time, which is in exactly the same position she left it.

Cresselia draws closer, and as much as her nose hates her for it, opens it. Suddenly, she is very glad for her lack of arms, because she would hate to have to touch this with any part of her body. No, her psychic powers are much better, right now.

The smell’s origin is located rather quickly, the moment she has opened the sack: All the food she brought last time has been decaying inside, probably since she brought it. It has become a mushy mix of mostly-brown colours, interspersed with differently coloured moulds. The non-edible things she brought, like paper, have not quite been infected, but affected, most definitely. Absolutely disgusting.

She would not want to touch any of it ever again.

Well. That explains the smell, but…

Why was nothing touched? Darkrai can go long without food, and often goes even longer than she should, but… But not this long! And Cresselia knows that she has more food, somewhere in the barrels further into the cave, but…

But that everything has been left here, untouched, unmoved… No, this does not make any sense. Even if Darkrai was ignoring Cresselia, even if she decided to ignore everything she brought, she would not just leave a sack of rotting food stay inside her home.

Which implies…

Which implies…

No. No, Cresselia was throughout in her search, last time! She would not have missed her sister!

+++1+++

(Except, a tiny voice tells her, except if she found a place to hide.)

(A place she knew she would never be found.)

(A place to peacefully—)

+++2+++

And Cresselia starts searching the island.

 

She searches everywhere she can think of. She searches the cliffs, the beaches, the forest, even the surrounding ocean, as much as she can. She finds two tiny caves between the cliffs she had not known about, one hollowed-out tree most definitely too small for Darkrai to fit in, and multiple objects she is sure Darkrai must have lost at some point. One of the tiny caves, Darkrai definitely knew about, because there is a blanket and some scrolls inside, but unfortunately, on the scrolls there is nothing helpful for Cresselia – they are just the stories Darkrai would always ask her to bring new ones of. The space in the tree, although much too small, Cresselia still pokes her head inside, and nearly gets stuck in turn. The objects she finds, while at least allowing her to think fond thoughts of her sister are not particularly helpful, because what can she gather from two playing stones, a used brush, a broken comb and the fragment of a scroll which has been rendered indecipherable by its time spent stuck in a bush?

So yes, she searches, and searches, and searches, but she does not find Darkrai. Not on her first day of searching, not on her second, and not on the third.

By the fourth, she stares at the ocean, and something in her heart feels as if it is about to break.

There’s nowhere else to search.

+++1+++

Nowhere but the unending depths of the ocean.

And if Darkrai went there to… to…

If she… If this time, she truly…

…

Of course Cresselia would not be able to find her, then.

+++2+++

 

On the fifth day, she searches again, and on the sixth, she gives up. There isn’t edible enough food left here, and she’s been starving herself for too long, and if she wants to make the journey back safely, then…

Well.

On the seventh day, she leaves.

 

She arrives on her own island, and then, she is lazy. Lazy and empty, so very empty. Days pass, she thinks. She is not entirely sure, but surely, they must have. Because time never stops, whether she likes that or not, and what was once present always becomes past.

Some days, she really wants to cry. She never allows it, but she lets herself hate who she is just the bit more instead. This is what she deserves, she thinks.

And like this, time passes, and she does nothing at all.

Until one day, she is graced with a sudden bout of energy, and makes a decision.

 

“Cresselia?” Uxie sounds surprised to see her, which, of course, makes sense. She did not send word ahead.

“Cresselia,” says Mesprit, and she only sounds half-surprised.

Maybe, Cresselia thinks, the surprise would get halved one more time if Azelf was here as well, and would repeat her name as well. Maybe he would be quarter-surprised.

She will never find out, and she is also glad that Azelf is not here. It has been decades since she last saw him and… she does not like to remember that, at all. Sometimes, she wonders if it was right to force him away, but… But it was, she tells herself. Because when he was lying on the ground, and only she could help him… What if she would not have been able to? The thought scared her. She has always been able to wake those in an endless nightmare, but what if one time, she could not?

So it is good that Azelf is not here. She is not sure she could even look him in the eyes.

No, instead it is just Uxie and Mesprit together at Fogbound Lake, seemingly having had a good time until Cresselia showed up. She cannot make herself care about the interruption she caused to their nice evening.

“Send some warning ahead, why don’t you?” Mesprit says, and she folds her arms, pretty much confirming that they were in the middle of something. Or maybe, she is just annoyed by Cresselia in general. Or insulted that Cresselia just became too lazy to visit her.

Uxie, however, seems more worried. “Is everything alright?” she asks, a slight frown on her face.

For but a moment, Cresselia feels an anger well up inside her at the implication that she would only show up if something was not right. Could she not just visit others because she felt like it? Could she not just spend time around those she calls family? But then, she forces herself to remember that Uxie is right to think that, obviously. Because she does only show up because something is not right.

“Darkrai. Do you know where she is?” Her question comes out like a demand, its tone more like a barking order than the gentle inquiry she really tried to make. And Cresselia also knows that she’s doing all the social pleasantries wrong, right now, that there are many other things she should say before this… But getting herself to care about that is hard, and so, she is not even going to try.

“Darkrai?” Uxie sounds surprised at the question, which is a bad sign.

“Why?” Mesprit asks, “Did she run away or something? Because that’s the only reason I would accept for you to interrupt us so rudely.”

Cresselia tries not to glare at Mesprit. She likes Mesprit, she reminds herself. Mesprit and her spend time together. Or, well, spent time together, when Cresselia would still spend time with others, before she became so very lazy. And sure, Mesprit never seemed to like spending time around her, but that is only because just as Cresselia often does not know what the social pleasantries required in any given situation would be, she also does not quite get which emotions would be the right ones to feel at many moments, and then, she feels the wrong thing.

It's not Mesprit’s fault that she knows that Cresselia’s emotions are all wrong, that her words do not fit her feelings.

“I don’t know,” Cresselia finally forces out, not even trying to find nice words for angry feelings, because Mesprit hates when she does things like that, “That is why I am asking your sister.”

“I am sorry, Cresselia,” Uxie says, “I do not know.”

“It’s not like she’s supposed to keep tabs on everyone—”

“Mesprit,” Uxie interrupts, “Please. Keep personal differences aside. It does not matter who is missing, Cresselia is perfectly well in her right to ask for help.”

“I am not asking for help,” Cresselia corrects her, “Just if you know where she is. She… She is not supposed to be off her island. She’s dangerous.”

‘She might be in danger’, she thinks, but does not admit to. That is for her to deal with.

Mesprit starts to roll her eyes, and then stops right in her track. Then, she focuses on Cresselia. “Oh,” she says, or gasps, “Oh, you’re really afraid. Uxie, I think this might actually be serious. You really have no idea?”

Uxie seems to look at Mesprit, and then, there is some silence. Cresselia is sure that they are talking telepathically, and that they are choosing to exclude her for some reason. She tries not to let it get to her.

“She was not on her island?”

“No,” Cresselia tells, trying not to get annoyed, even if she is here to get her questions answered, not the other way around, “I searched absolutely everywhere. Except…” She takes a deep breath. “Except the ocean, obviously.”

+++1+++

Mesprit’s eyes widen. Uxie nods and starts to say, “Alright. So if—”

“You don’t think she—” Mesprit interrupts, only to get interrupted by Cresselia in turn.

“No!” she cries, “No,” she whispers, “She… She promised she wouldn’t, again.”

“Promises can be—”

+++2+++

“She is not dead,” Uxie interrupts, not talking around the issue at all, but she also sounds so sure, Cresselia believes her instantly. A weight she never noticed before falls off her chest and gives her new room to breath. She does not even need an explanation, if Uxie states it as a fact, then it is true.

“So she must have moved off the island, for some reason?” Mesprit asks, and Uxie nods.

“If you give me some time, Cresselia,” she says, “I can try to find out if anyone has been experiencing unnatural nightmares. I think that might be the best chance to narrow down where she might be. For how long has she been missing?”

“I… don’t know,” Cresselia admits, “At least a month, I guess. Longer, probably.”

Uxie does not judge. Instead, she hums, and falls silent. Cresselia is sure that she is calculating possible places Darkrai could be. Then, Uxie begins floating left and right, and right and left, pacing in her own way.

Mesprit leads Cresselia further into Uxie’s home, lets her sit down, and is much friendlier than she had been all the years before.

“Don’t worry,” she tells her, “Uxie’s gonna find her, you’re gonna gather her up, and then we’ll get her back to her island.”

 

Darkrai, it seems, does not want to be found. She can be traced, and once Uxie had set Cresselia on the right path, following her became easy enough – Cresselia just has to talk to the Pokémon she comes across, ask if they have experienced bad nightmares, and if the answer is yes, she is moving in the right direction.

Of course, that method still has its drawbacks. For one, Cresselia won’t ever manage to actually catch up with Darkrai, at least as long as Darkrai refuses to stay in one place. So unless Darkrai either becomes very careless, or wants to be caught up with, she will not be caught. And Darkrai… obviously does not want that. Moreover, the moment Cresselia moves in the wrong direction, she will immediately lose important time trying to get on the right way again, and that… happens quite a lot.

So, for now, it really is for Darkrai to decide when to stop, and for now, she seems to be enjoying whatever she thinks she is doing. Even if she leaves bad dreams in her wake, and, occasionally, Pokémon caught in an endless nightmare.

Which also proves that Darkrai must know that Cresselia is following her, lest she would not just act so carelessly with her ability. In fact, the victims of endless nightmares only started emerging once Cresselia was firmly on the way of catching up to Darkrai.

Which, yet again, proves to her that her sister is perfectly able to control her ability, and just chooses to annoy Cresselia by not doing so.

Or maybe… Maybe, she will admit, maybe Darkrai really cannot help spreading nightmares. Maybe, about this, she did not lie, because admittedly… Admittedly, even if Cresselia tried, she would not be able not to give those around her good dreams. But she also does not trap them within those dreams, so the endless nightmares, at least, are Darkrai’s choice. It could not be pure chance that victims only appeared the moment that Cresselia got close enough to help them, after all. No, that would imply an amount of bad luck which is… just not possible.

But why Darkrai decides on forcing others to suffer like this, Cresselia still does not understand. Caring about others had always come easy to Darkrai, it had seemed to Cresselia. Easier than it comes to her, at least. And the endless nightmares put those afflicted through so much unnecessary pain, it just… It just does not seem like something Darkrai would want to do.

And besides, Darkrai would surely not want to be hated by others! No one truly wants that. But as long as she spread nightmares, she will be hated for it. That is how it had always been. And Darkrai had always seemed so broken by it, so much so that she decided that instead of being hated, she would rather be forgotten.

So… So why go back to being hated by the world? For an illusion of freedom?

Cresselia just does not understand.

 

“The stranger, she spoke to me,” the Cradily tells Cresselia. Its voice sounds strange, like an echo’s echo, like molasses on a stone.

“The stranger?” Cresselia prompts, although she is quite sure she knows who the Cradily means. She just had to heal multiple members of what she supposes is its family, and before she could continue her journey to search for her sister, this one Pokémon, positioned further away from the others, called out to her.

Cresselia floated over to it, carefully staying just a little further away from the shallow ocean where the Cradily’s body rests, it’s neck and head raised above the sea level. Gentle waves continuously lap against the plates creating this particular beach’s shore. Cresselia would find it calming, if the Cradily had not just spoken the words it had.

“The stranger who cursed my kin,” it tells her, and Cresselia has to concentrate to even make out all the words, the tiny waves almost louder than its strange voice, “The stranger with a single white arm.”

“Arm?” Cresselia questions, confused. Unless something horrible happened to Darkrai, that does not seem to be describing her.

Cradily nods. “Not eight arms, like mine. Not uncountable tiny arms, like those you cloak yourself in. A single arm, at her top. A red crown to keep it safe.”

Cresselia feels her eyes widen. The Cradily is describing Darkrai’s hair, is it not? Just with… different terms. And with Cresselia’s tiny arms, it must mean her feathers. She should not be as surprised as she is, because she met other Cradily before, and they tend to perceive the world very differently, but how could she predict the views of a world which are so very different?

Cradily continues, seemingly not caring if Cresselia is actually listening or not. “How weak, we thought, with just a single arm. The others tried to feast, but she could move so fast, faster than even our attacks could be. And then, they were asleep. I was further away. I did not attack.” It seems to be justifying itself, maybe. Defending. Denying that it had any bad intentions.

Cresselia does not feel mollified by that, because, apparently, he and his kin wanted to eat Darkrai. If she had known that previously to healing the others…

She does not want to know the answer.

“She approached me, then” it recounts, “She said that one would come, who might heal them. And you came, and you healed them. She said to tell the one who heals, to ask the one who heals, if she likes the game of hide and seek.”

“Hide… Hide and seek?” Cresselia ask, or maybe, she also screeches a little. Is… Is this what Darkrai thinks she is doing?! Is this why she is making Cresselia suffer like this, because she made herself believe that they were playing a game?!

“I do not know the game,” Cradily answers, seeming to misunderstand Cresselia’s horror. “I have not played it. She said not to wait for an answer. She said not to attack you, but I hunger—”

Cresselia jerks back, only barely evading the Cradily’s grasping tentacles – or, she guesses, ‘arms’, as it calls them.

Staring at it, she moves further away again. That…!

Is this the kind of company Darkrai faced, too? It seems likely.

Deep in her heart, she feels as if healing the other Lileep and Cradily was a mistake. She does not allow herself to think so, though. Because the deaths they bring are natural, only made for survival or defence. The ones Darkrai would have inflicted would not have been. That`s what she has to keep believing.

(Even if it was just self-defence.)

“Those who dwell on land, you move so swiftly,” Cradily ponders, “You must not go hungry. You must not understand what hunger feels like. Let me get just a taste—”

Cresselia turns around and leaves the gathering of Lileep and Cradily behind.

She ignores the little voice who wishes Darkrai had just taken all of them out.

 

 

Sometimes, whenever it feels like all of her emotions but anger want to flee her, Cresselia reminds herself that, at least, Darkrai still shows that… in a way, she cares. She still cares. For others, for Cresselia, and for herself.

It would make Cresselia jealous, under different circumstances . Just why is Darkrai allowed to care so easily, when Cresselia still struggles with it? And sure, it seems as if Darkrai cares less and less with every passing day, week, month, year, but to Cresselia, it is obvious that still, she does.

It’s obvious in the way that Darkrai never travels too quickly, how she always slows down when Cresselia starts to lag behind. It’s obvious whenever Cresselia is not sure with path to take, but always, a single white hair will, as if by mere happenstance, be tangled in one of the bushes on the correct side, or in a tree, or even on the ground, caught between some rocks. Or a branch will be broken in a way that shows that someone obviously stepped on it, or a flower will have been used to play any kind of derivative version of ‘loves me, loves me not’, and it’s petals and stem will just have ended up on the right path.

It's obvious in the way that if the newest victim had no one to notice their sleep, they will be placed right where Cresselia can stumble over them, where she will be able to heal them.

In all of these actions, it becomes obvious that Darkrai does not want Cresselia to stop following her, that Darkrai wants help for her victims to be close by.

All of this, it shows that, in a strange way, Darkrai still cares.

And Cresselia, always-lagging-behind Cresselia, never-quite-catching-up Cresselia, not-good-enough Cresselia will follow, and try to act as if she cares even more than Darkrai does.

It has become easier. She has learnt more of the right words to say, more of the correct actions to take, more ways to present herself to show that she cares. She still cannot make herself feel the emotions which should go alongside those, on most occasions, but…

But if she acts as if she does, that must be enough.

 

“Lady Cresselia!” the approaching Great Tusk cries, “Oh, Lady Cresselia, it’s horrible!”

Cresselia is not sure why the Great Tusk needs to shout as if she was deaf, but she had also met them before and they behaved just like this back then, too. And she also told them, back then, how she would like to be addressed, but obviously, those words went unheeded. So she tells them anew, “No need to call me Lady, please.”

She makes her best to make it sound friendly, because one is supposed to be friendly to others, to be seen as approachable. Even if she would rather not be, even if the other is an idiot who should have remembered it the first time.

“Oh, it’s horrible, Lady Cresselia!” the Great Tusk repeats, as if they did not hear, as if they did not listen to her. Which is quite likely.

“Well, what is it?” she finally prompts, because although she has an inkling as to the reason – after all, she has been following her sister’s tracks for not just years, but actual decades now, and although she has not yet caught up to her, she has come across many more-or-less accidental victims of her close proximity. She thinks that this small clan of Tusks may just be amongst the newest victims.

“When the moon was gone from the sky, Lady Cresselia, the Elder Tusk, and this one’s tiny Tusk, they fell asleep, and we could not wake them up!”

Definitely Darkrai’s doing. “Where are they?” she asks, and explains, “I can heal them.”

“Oh!” the Great Tusk cries, “Oh, it’s so very horrible, Lady Cresselia! The Elder Tusk, they did not wake, and they could not eat, could not drink, and they…” A sob escapes the Great Tusk. “And now, the eternal sleep has claimed them, Lady Cresselia!”

Cresselia knows that, right now is the moment she should gasp, probably, horrified. Or at least she should feel as if her heart freezes over, or she should curse out her sister for the carelessness which finally killed someone (again), as she always knew would happen.

And Cresselia is annoyed, of course she is! So her sister decides to spread her curse over the world anew, and Cresselia has to clean up after her, and no one ever her asked if she wanted this.

But that is the only thing she feels – annoyance, that her sister has chosen to put her through this yet again.

As much as Cresselia tries to, as many steps as she had taken forward, getting herself to care about others…

She just cannot make herself care about the death of a Pokémon who was already old, anyways. Even with others, if they are young, or neither young or old, if they are sick or healthy or anything in between, she will hardly care. Death is natural. That some will cause the death of others is natural, too.

And as much as she tries, she barely cares. But the world needs her to care. Could the world not have chosen someone better for that task?

And so, instead, she concentrates on how annoying her sister is being, because that is a feeling she knows how to feel. And she reminds herself of words that were spoken to her, of things that were explained to her: Just because death is natural does not mean that every death is just.

And the deaths Darkrai causes, Cresselia adds for herself, are not just, are not necessary, should not have happened as long as Cresselia is there to stop them.

So this death is Cresselia’s fault, and for that, she is angry with Darkrai.

The Great Tusk keeps sobbing.

Finally, Cresselia prompts, “And your tiny Tusk?”

“Sleeping, still, sleeping! We all tried, but none could wake the tiny Tusk. We try, and try, but we cannot. I could not help. But Lady Cresselia, you can help? We all heard stories, we gathered hope…!”

“Yes,” she interrupts them, because she wants to help as quickly as she can, she tells herself (because the Great Tusk is annoying her, she knows), “Yes, lead me to them, and I will help.”

She will help each and every time, because that proves that she cares.

 

Most of the time, Cresselia does not want to believe that Darkrai puts others into endless nightmares on purpose. Certainly, it must be a slip in control, no? She might have believed otherwise, in the past, but… But by now, it really seems like the only answer left.  Except for the few cases where she was just defending herself, she must just be slipping up. And those slip-ups are what is slowly, but surely, making Darkrai become as hated as she had been before the isolation. So why not be more careful? Why not ensure that no one is harmed by an endless nightmare, and spare herself all that hate?

Cresselia knows Darkrai. Or maybe she only knew her, but…

But the Darkrai she knew did not want to be hated. The Darkrai she knew suffered with each proof of hate, until she could not take it any more and left everyone who might hate her behind.

(Except for Cresselia.)

(But she could never hate her sister.)

(She just hopes that Darkrai also knows that.)

So why become hated again? Could Darkrai make herself not care for that hate, just as Cresselia is making herself care for others?

It seems so strange but…

But maybe the Darkrai she knew is disappearing a little more every day.

Maybe, she had already started disappearing before that.

 

Sometimes, they meet, for seconds, or sometimes minutes. More often no longer than that, though. They shout at each other, and Darkrai always outruns her yet again.

Cresselia’s sister becomes her brother. It should change things. It does not.

 

It is a game for Darkrai, and he did not just let that message be given to Cresselia to infuriate her, she realizes at some point. Or maybe not a point, but multiple points in time, and together, they build a mosaic of one big point of revelation.

Darkrai is having the time of his life, and had stopped caring for the lives of others years ago. There are still other things he cares about, like Cresselia following him, but the care for his victims has disappeared.

She does not understand where that change came from. She is not sure she wants to, because if she did, she fears that… That she would understand too closely. Fears that she, too, would start to consider this a game. If she would understand, would the fire of despair within her burn her out or set her aflame?

Frantically, she clutches at the one thing which might be different between them, still.

“Pokémon have died!” she shouts at him, as if she actually cared about it. Because she does. She cares about this. She has to.

And Darkrai needs to care about it, again. Because Darkrai was always better at caring for others, because without Darkrai caring, he would have never even moved to the cursed island. And now, now that he does not care anymore, he has moved away, and now, he instead forces Cresselia to start caring.

And as always, she realizes, she wastes her chance to properly talk to Darkrai to waste it on something she does not believe in, again. She had tried to get him to realize why he needs to move back to the island, the times she managed to catch up to him, or maybe the times he let her catch up.

But he had rebuked her again and again, until she really did not know what else she could tell him, what else she could try but make him aware of what he is doing. He must have realized it, of course, but… But maybe, maybe one day, she will get through to him and make him care anew.

If she has to care, then he should have to, as well.

Darkrai shrugs. “Pokémon die all the time,” he tells her. “Everything dies.”

“But not everything is killed by you!” Cresselia objetcs, voice angrier than she truly feels. How could she feel angry if she only feels lost?

Darkrai laughs, but it sounds nothing like the laugh he had when he had not yet stepped on the accursed island, like the laugh he is supposed to have. “Are you accusing me of every death which happens just because I am close by, Cresselia?”

“Don’t twist my words!”

Darkrai hums. “I am not twisting. I just know, already, that you want to accuse me of killing those around me on purpose, no?”

“I--, No, of course not—!” she tries to object, but she also does not know what else she is supposed to say, because he just stole her words before she had the chance to say them. Because what else is she supposed to say? She goes through her life following set rules, and if she stepped outside of them, she does not know what would happen. She does not want to know, either.

He looks at his hand as if it was much more interesting than their conversation. “And here I had believed you would stop blaming me for all of your failings.”

“W-What?” Cresselia stutters, caught off guard. Because he cannot know what she feels, he cannot be implying what she fears every day—

“I do not kill anyone,” Darkrai calmly tells her, “If they die, it is because you did not safe them.”

“No—” Cresselia tries to deny, but of course, she realizes the truth of the statement. Because she had already realized that truth years ago, yet never wanted to confront it, and she does not want to confront it now!

“Obviously, all those deaths are your fault.” Darkrai laughs, again. It sounds even less like the laugh Cresselia knew, once upon a time. “So do not blame me.”

“No!” Cresselia shouts, “It is not my fault!”, even if she knows that it is. Darkrai is correct, as he so very often is, and he has chosen to present that knowledge to her in the way which hurts the most. Darkrai just puts others to sleep. Sleep does not kill. Cresselia not waking someone up in time, that kills.

“Not if you safe them in time,” Darkrai says, a grin stealing on his face, showing only in the crease of his eye, “So let us keep this game going, yes?”

And he turns to the shadows and flees, yet again.

 

Cresselia had been told, by many others, that she does not know what nightmares are like. That she could never understand, what with her ability.

She strongly disagrees.

Maybe, she will allow, maybe there was a time she really did not understand. But now… Certainly, she must know. Because bad dreams are not bound to night-time, and fears do not appear just when the sun has gone down, and someone does not have to sleep to experience a nightmare.

Others disagree. Others always disagree. And she will nod, and act as if she had changed her opinion, for the approval of someone she cannot make herself care about. And they will believe her, because she’s the good half. She’s supposed to be nice, and friendly, and helpful, just as the other half is not. And that is what others will see, and that is what others will take as truth.

And if Cresselia disagrees with everything they say, she will not show it. She can’t. She is supposed to be the good one. Even if…

Even if she cannot make herself care about them. Even if she does not even care if they live or die.

She grasps unto the belief that others need her, that others appreciate her; because if they did not, there really would be nothing left for her. Darkrai has made clear what he thinks of Cresselia (an annoyance, a weight around her neck, someone he does not need), and there is no one else Cresselia is close enough to that she knows that they would miss her, if she just disappeared one day.

No one who would miss ‘just Cresselia’.

But everyone would miss the dream healer, the light dispersing the shadow, the good half. Everyone would miss the one who agreed with them, who was always only nice to them, who did everything she could to help them.

And so, she will save them, again and again. She will follow, and she will heal, because this must be what she was created for. Nothing else ever yielded her the adoration she now finds herself buried under, nothing else made others want to share time with her as this did. So this must have been her purpose all along – to be friendly, to guard others, to heal.

(And if she had done so earlier, if she had done so for the only one she now finds it easy to care about—)

(Too little, too late.)

(No longer wanted as anything but an adversary, now.)

She will care because she has to care. She will agree because she has to agree.

And she will hate every second of this waking nightmare.

 

It is, ironically enough, one of the calm moments when Cresselia hurts Darkrai in a way which she will never forgive herself for. It is also when he hurts her in a way she should never forgive him for… But with every passing year, she lets that awareness fade more from her memory, and instead, she focuses on her own failings. Focusing on what he did wrong will not change him. Focusing on what she did wrong will make her stronger.

Just as has become usual (when did it become so? when did she allow it to become so? why is she not fighting more against it?) she arrives to find yet another of his victims, lying motionless on the ground. A tiny clearing, this time, a tiny clearing in a tiny forest she had never been in before, and will never be in, again, probably.

These days, he does not even bother with making his victims comfortable, before leaving them for her to find. She is not sure if this is a good or bad development, but she leans towards ‘bad’.

Just as had become usual, too, she can feel him lingering just a little further away in the distance. She is not sure whether that is good or bad, either. Maybe good, because deep down, he still seems to care about those he afflicts, or at least wants them to be found. Bad, because maybe he is laying out a trap for her, wants to attack her while she is in the process of healing. She does not know what would happen if he did.

But there is one thing she has realized over the last few days, weeks, months, and this, she tells him.

“I hate you,” she says out loud, because he is still here, and probably close enough to hear, and because it’s the truth. She does hate him.

She also feels many other ways about him – she loves him, she fears him, adores him, loathes him. He angers her, he saddens her, delights her, horrifies her.

And right next to all these confusing feelings, she hates him. So very, very much.

When she can hear the rustle of leaves behind her, she repeats, louder, “I really, really hate you.“

He says nothing, but she knows that he is listening. And so, instead of healing the one before her, the one she can’t properly make herself care about, the one she can only pretend to be worried for, she speaks to him. The one lying before her won’t die that quickly. But her brother might disappear any second now, force her to find another chance to confront him, or not even give her that chance ever again.

And so, she speaks. “I do not understand why you are doing what you are, right now. I do not want to understand. But I hate you for it.”

Another rustle of leaves, this time closer.

She continues. “And I hope you hate yourself, too. I hope you have nightmares every time you sleep, and that you never forget,” she turns towards the direction the rustling came from and looks in the surprised eye of her brother, “That you are a monster.”

He takes a step back as if on instinct, and the way his eye widens, the way his hand flexes, the way she hears a sharp intake of breath, they all prove to her that, more than she hates him, she hates herself for ever saying any of that to him. But she cannot, she will not apologise. Because certainly, it is the truth.

And so, instead, she stares at him, a raised head, with all the haughty contempt she can drag together. It’s hard, at first, but then, she forces herself to remember all the things he has done, all the ways he refuses to change, all the ways in which he has hurt others (and her). She forces herself to care about all these things, or to at least pretend to do so.

She is prepared to tell him, once again, how she hates him, because sometimes hurting others makes it feel as if she is not hurting, too. But then, his eye changes in such a way which tells her that he is hurt, and all that energy leaves her.

Because it’s easy to hurt those who hurt one in return, but the way he looks at her, she feels like the worst creature on this planet. She feels like the true monster.

How dare he be hurt by her words after everything he has done? she tries to ask herself, but instead, she just stares at him, and for once in the years which had passed, she allows herself to hope. She allows herself to hope that, where kind words and angry words and insulting words never got through, that, maybe, finally, the hurting words did. As horrible as that would be.

Slowly, carefully, Darkrai moves forward, until he is only a few steps away from her, and then, looking her directly in the eyes, he whispers, “I am sorry.”

Cresselia takes a surprised breath, and stares at him. Did… Did she hear wrong? Did her ears deceive her, or—

“I am really, really sorry,” he says, he repeats, and whatever emotions she had felt before, they all flee her. She does not know how to continue, does not know how to act, what to say, does not know anything.

“I did not realize you were hurting because of all this. I just… wanted to see the world again.”

Cresselia speaks before she thinks. “But you can’t. You only hurt everyone else.”

“I… I know,” Darkrai admits, looking off to the side. “I am sorry. If… If you truly want me to, I will return.”

Cresselia can only stare at him with wide eyes, the budding hope in her chest starting to bloom. “You… You have to,” she whispers.

And when he takes another slow step towards her, almost closing the gap between them, almost close enough to touch. She forces herself not to draw away, even if it had become instinct by now. Instead, she lets him approach, and when he moves even closer, as if to hug her, she lets him.

The hope in her chest fills her with warmth she had not felt in years.

And then, he puts his arms around her, and she can only stare ahead, caught off guard. Was this really, truly, all it took? All these decades of their accursed game of hide and seek, brought to an end because… Because of what? Because she hurt him for once, instead?

“I am sorry,” Darkrai whispers to her, and then, his left arm becomes crushing around her neck, and his right arm falls away, and he adds, “Just kidding.”

Cresselia feels his hand impact with the side of her head, and as her heart shatters, she does not even try to remain conscious.

 

When she wakes, she knows that this was her fault. Of course it was. She challenged him, insulted him, let him get close to her; when she promised herself not to do any of these things ever again. She is hopeless, huh?

It scares her how she does not properly regret having broken her silent promises.

Instead, she moves to the Pokémon Darkrai had put to sleep, and wakes it up. It thanks her profusely, and she smiles at the right times, and nods at the right times, and answers with unending kindness at the right times. It is a practiced play for her, by now.

Maybe that is why she does not know how to react, once it has been sent on its merry way. It asked her to accompany her to where it lives, of course, but she told it that she needed to catch up to her brother, and it went away, telling her how brave she is.

She does not agree, but also did not mention that. Instead, she accepted that, just as usual, she had told a lie, because instead of actually following Darkrai, she remains at that clearing. She remains there for far too long, and tries to figure out what emotions she’s supposed to feel, now.

How weak. How useless. How… lazy.

Yes, she decides. Lazy. That is what she has always been, and what she will remain. Because instead of changing her view of the brother who hates her so, she decides to act as if they are still the closely bonded siblings they had been before… everything. Before they discovered the curse of his ability, the fragility of life, before he tried to keep others safe by isolating himself, before they drifted apart, before he made himself go mad in solitude.

And she does not want to recognize that, even now; and maybe that is why she does not know what she’s supposed to feel.

Should she cry? Destroy something? Shout?

She feels regret, but that’s not going to change anything.

And so, she decides that anger would probably be a good response. She thinks about hate, too, because that’s what she told him, is it not? But it does not feel… right. She is not even sure she knows what proper hate feels like, and maybe, she just mixed together her anger and frustration and desperation and told him that it’s hate.

But it’s anger instead, she decides. And as long as she’s angry with him, she’ll be able to keep up this mad chase.

 

Sometimes, she wishes for things to go back to how they were. Which makes no sense, because those days were not good at all, were some of her worst, in fact… But through the lens of memories, when put up against her current reality, they seem so very easy, so very nice, so very good.

When she remembers those days, she remembers the sun shining down blindingly, and she remembers lying in its warming beams, and just not caring about tomorrow at all. She does not allow herself to think of the following nights, when her eyes hurt, or when she realized how much work she had ignored. She remembers snow falling, and marvelling at its beauty, enjoying the deafening effect it had on all surrounding noises. She does not allow herself to think of the cold which slowly spread through her body, which nothing could stave off, does not think of the eery silence it would bring with it, which forced her to only listen to her own thoughts.

In her memories, the past is a beautiful place. She knows that it was not, but her emotions still keep on reaching out for it.

 

She hears stories about Darkrai, stories she does not want to believe. Stories of manipulations, of schemes, of evil deeds only for the purpose of hurting others, only for the purpose of taking revenge on a world which does not want him in it.

Instead of believing these stories, she sleeps. She sleeps too often, too long, too much.

+++1+++

But in her dreams, everything is alright, and even if she will confront reality again and again and again, every time she wakes up, she fervently wishes for the one day she will not wake.

+++2+++

 

She does not hate him, of course.

But she hates how every time she looks at him, she wonders if he is a mirror. He feels like a mirror, a mirror of what could have been her.

Some days, that scares her. Other days, she’s jealous that he got to be the one everyone hates.

 

“Cresselia!” Darkrai cries out to her, and he sounds so young and helpless that she wants to run to him immediately. She stays back, instead, memories of their fights, his deeds, her weakness much too fresh.

If she had just found him here, lying helplessly on his back, one of his hands apparently caught between a rock and the ground; she would have immediately helped him. But she had not. No, she had been closely following him, after his most recent murder, and had almost caught up to him when she had heard a great cacophony, as if something had fallen down.

It is obvious, now, that it had, and that he was unlucky enough to get caught by it.

And if he had not run away, before, she would help, because… because he is still her brother. Because for him, she can still care. But now… Now, she holds back, because what if this is yet another scheme of his to once again show her how stupid she is in his eyes?

“Cresselia, help, please,” he cries, and, “I’m sorry, please, help, please,” and so on.

Cresselia just stares at him. It… It sounds honest. But her brother is, unfortunately, a good liar. And then, a choked sob escapes him, which is when she realizes that there are actual tears gathering in his eye.

She had not seen him cry ever since… ever since…

She has not seen him cry in decades.

All her caution, all her silent promises to be careful, she throws away and instead hurries towards him.

All of the crimes he has committed, all of the past betrayals, they do not matter, because he is in anguish now.

“Darkrai,” she answers, as she comes to a halt right next to him, “How can I help?”

And he laughs, that horrid laugh he always laughs, now, the laugh which has no joy in it except for the joy he gets at seeing others hurt. She freezes.

“You are so naïve, Cresselia,” he tells her, and then, he knocks her unconscious.

 

When she wakes up, she hates him. She hates, hates, hates him, and she will never stop hating him, Cresselia tells herself. Whatever forgiveness she might have had in her heart for him, she will never again grant it to him.

This is your fault, a tiny voice tells her.

She knows that it is right, but for once, she does not want to accept that. So what if she is? What can she change, now? The past is as it is, and no matter how she tries to appeal to Darkrai, he does not leave his newfound path of discord and misfortune.

If this is who he wants to be, if he forces her to become the ‘good one’, then she’ll be the best one she can be! Whatever she feels does not matter, anyways!

Maybe Arceus knew that this was going to happen from the start. Maybe they were never supposed to try to love each other as siblings, and that is why it hurt so much when they did. Maybe hate is really all they should have felt for each other, and that is why it comes to her so easily.

Yes, she decides. Yes, she hates Darkrai.

(She doesn’t.)

(She does.)

 

More and more often, Cresselia allows herself to find a lonely place, and she lies down, and she falls asleep. And she smiles at the world before her, where everything is right, and she wishes she would never have to wake up.

 

And so, again and again and again, Darkrai commits malefactions, Cresselia pursues him, and after some time, she catches up, they fight, she loses, and their distorted dance starts again.

It is a game to Darkrai. It is not a game to Cresselia.

Tonight is the night of catching up, after weeks of following him, weeks of either healing his victims when she arrived in time, or putting them to rest when she did not. But tonight, she has managed to get close enough to him to make him willing to fight her, and so, they stand opposite each other, surrounded by stones higher than each of them. This place is almost like a clearing, but there are no trees, just stones surrounding them, flat on top, forming a multitude of plateaus.

Sometimes, Cresselia lets herself ponder the question how the Darkrai she knew could become the Darkrai who now stands before her. There are some things which overlap, of course, but… But with each passing day, they become fewer. And now, as he stands across her, on his chosen stage for this night, she is not even sure she knows him at all.

“And?” Darkrai asks, his hands folded over each other, his eye not even looking at her, “Did you manage to find her in time?”

Cresselia knows who he means, of course – some years ago, he had started asking her about specific victims, just to infuriate her, and to also show that he did not even care to stay around to see if they would survive or not.

He is not a murderer, per se, because unless he is attacked first, he does not pull others into endless nightmares on purpose. Well, of course it is on purpose, in a way, but… more accidental, Cresselia keeps telling herself. She knows he could control it, if only he was not so careless; but he also does not do it on purpose in most cases.

Why could she not have realized it sooner? She hates herself for her stupidity every day. Or, no, she was not even stupid. She was just too lazy to understand, and now she pays the price. She and so many others, others she… cares about.

And yet…

And yet, even knowing this, it cannot change anything, anymore.

Because Darkrai knows what his ability can do, yet never stops travelling the world. He does not avoid places where too many live, increasing the amount of possible victims; he does not move away quickly from others to minimize the risk; if he does not feel like it. He is so very, very careless.

Not a murderer, yet, but with each passing day getting closer to it.

Cresselia grinds her teeth. “No,” she admits, the memory still chafing at her. She forces herself to care about it, and by now, with each victim, it becomes easier. Sometimes, she thinks she must hate herself very much to constantly force herself to care about all his victims. But then she remembers that he no longer does so, and that she is supposed to be the good sibling, and that she needs to care.

“Ah, too bad,” Darkrai says, as if he was talking about the weather and not someone he killed, “Then again, I was hoping for you to be too late, so I guess I should be thankful.”

He only says these words to infuriate her, Cresselia knows, but she still cannot stop the anger from welling up. Normally, it spills forth before it can become too much, in words or sometimes just a senseless attack, but this time, she does not allow herself to release it, lets it boil while she deals with him.

“What, nothing to say?” he asks, “Don’t tell me you’re actually glad she died—"

And the anger bursts out. “You are a monster who should never have existed!” Cresselia shouts. She does not even really believe any of the things she just said, but she knows that being called a ‘monster’ still hurts him, and that is the only thing she wants to do right now.

Darkrai, for once, jerks back, and finally looks at her straight on. Then, he takes a deep breath.

“You already made clear that you considered me as such millennia ago,” he finally hisses as defence, and for once, Cresselia understands how he so easily hurts others with his words.

Not because his words, right now, hurt – he has said things like this so very often, now, and after the first few times, they mostly lost the power they held over her emotions. She feels anger, yes, but that has more to do with the way he behaves than with the words he uses.

But still, this time, she understands, because from within her arise the exact words she needs to inflict the most damage possible. She does not hold them back.

“No,” she tells him, suddenly calm in a way she had not been in years while confronting him, “Back then, I considered you my brother. But rather than a brother like you, I would have no family!” Cruel satisfaction filling her, she adds, “I was blind to ever consider you anything but a monster.”

Darkrai stares at her with a wide eye, and probably without noticing, takes a small step back. She can see his hands shaking even from so far away, can hear his laboured intake of breath, and can see the horror grow in his eye.

And she relishes in it. She knows she should not, but all the despair he’d sown in her heart has finally bloomed into true hatred, and the hatred makes mistakes seem like a beautiful flower.

“You…” he whispers, and then, “You!” he shouts. “How-, how dare you!”

Then, Cresselia has to hurry to move out of the way of his anger-led attacks, again and again, watching them become more and more mindless and only fuelled by rage.

Once more, she barks out, “I wish you’d never been born!”, and then, he becomes even more frantic.

She dances out of his way as long as she can, attacks the few chances she has, but… It is only a matter of time, of course, before Darkrai (her brother, her heart tells her, even if she just told him that he is not, anymore) manages to hit her, and with that, the battle is pretty much lost. He has the type advantage, he is much more aggressive than her, and had always had a certain knack for fighting she just could not replicate.

But instead of just coldly knocking her out, as he had started to do, he continues attacking her, hitting her, even once she lies on the ground, unable to move.

Cresselia tries to curl in on herself, tries to hold on as much as she can, and still, he attacks. First, with proper attacks, and then with just his hands and feet. She is not sure she has ever been in so much pain, and she is sure that this will be the end…

And yet, she feels a strange calm wash over her, deafen most of her pain, until just a slight ache remains.

So this is going to be it, huh?

She… She thought it might have been something more grand, but if dying truly feels that peaceful, she will take it.

Just one more time, she forces herself to open her eyes, to stare at him as he lifts his hand once again, to hit her for the final time, surely, and—

He freezes.

For some time, maybe a second, maybe an hour, both remain unmoving. Cresselia could not even move if she wanted to. Instead, she calmly stares at him, and out slip what might become her last words.

“What’s holding you back?”

Darkrai’s hand falls to his side, and he takes multiple steps back. Cresselia tries to follow him with her eyes, but has a hard time focusing. He becomes just another dark blur.

“I’m not… I’m not a monster,” he spews out, “I don’t kill those around me for no reason.”

“Don’t you?” Cresselia asks.

His first answer is a wordless scream. It’s feral, filled with emotions which have no name. It’s guttural in a way which does not fit him, in a way which would fit a mindless beast instead.

Faintly, she can make out that he moves, to one side, the other, closer and back again. Then, another scream. And then, laboured breathing, heavy with emotion.

“I hate you,” he tells her, his voice not calm as he usually forces it to be, but shaky, raspy, more growl and air than anything else. “I hate you so very much. But you’re not…” A short pause, or a long pause, because time has seemingly ceased to exist, “You’re not worth it.”

‘You’re not worth my emotions’, goes unspoken, and ‘You’re not worth being granted a quick end’, is left unsaid, but Cresselia hears it anyways.

Fire is in her veins, pain fills her body.

“Then get lost,” she says, her voice colder than she could’ve ever imagined herself able to speak. She would feel bad for echoing the words everyone always tells him, but she just wants to hurt, wants him to, for once, feel the hurt he’s been sowing.

He remains standing where he is.

“Get lost!” Cresselia screams, her voice breaking, and that, finally, seems to be enough. The dark blur disappears, and soon enough, she cannot feel his presence anymore.

The worst pain sets in soon after, but then, the clouds break up, and through them, the moon shines its light on her. Healing her body becomes easy with that.

The rest of her, she is not so sure about.

 

Everyone hates him for who he is.

Everyone loves her for who she is not.

And since they are supposed to hate each other, they do.

What a doomed world they have found themselves in.

Notes:

A surprise POV, which I hope you enjoyed! As depressing as it got at parts, I do like this chapter. Exploring Cresselia’s character, as I interpreted her for this fic, was really cool. I will freely admit, I never liked her in the games – neither mainline nor Mystery Dungeon – but in my fic… help I’ve gotten attached.

Also, someone, please get these siblings therapy, please, they need it so much.

Once again, I’m sorry that it took me so long to get this chapter out, especially since I wrote that I’d post it ‘soon-ish’ and then took nearly two months. And although I know that I don’t have to explain the ‘why’, I WANT to. The rough version of this chapter was finished about a week after chapter 22 got posted, and then I started editing, which normally takes me about 1-2 weeks. Which was also going okay – slower than usual, because heavy chapters like this, I just cannot do too much on a day or I make myself sad, but yeah. And then… Well. I have a little brother, which whom I am very close. And because he made a lot of very, very stupid decisions, he ended up in the hospital, where he stayed for multiple weeks. And suddenly, even looking at this chapter became too much for me. It just… mirrored real life a little too closely. And I decided to put my own mental health, fragile as it was already, first, and leave the chapter alone for a while – which I do not regret at all. In fact, that is kinda why I want to tell y’all this – putting your mental health first IS the right thing to do, in whatever way that happens. And yeah. My brother’s been out of the hospital for not quite a month now, and doing better already, little step by little step.
Unfortunately, once I was in the right head space for writing/editing again, my exam season had started, I had multiple essays to write and exams to study for, and then, I went on a well-deserved short holiday. And now, here I am, back again! Unfortunately, my next semester will start in a little over a week again, and so, I am not quite sure what the upcoming upload schedule will look like. But as I’ve always said, the story WILL be finished. If a longer hiatus is needed again, I will communicate it.

And speaking of communication! :D I’ve made a tumblr account, and although I have absolutely no clue how tumblr works, and am still afraid of human interaction, I will try to communicate things about my fic over there in the future – like, if something like this happens again, I would write it over there. I also want to try to get more in touch with all of you, so feel free to approach me over there (or on my deviantart-account). You can find the links to both on my profile :D

Also, the chapter title is from a real ancient Egyptian story yet again – thought I’d keep the theme going. The story is about a prince, whose means of death are prophesized when he is born, and then averted at least once. Unfortunately, the ending of the story is not preserved, so his fate is, ultimately, not know – which I found quite fitting for this chapter.

Last, and most importantly, another fanart by CandlitNights!! A cute might-be scene for the last Chapter, pleaseee check it out! https://www.deviantart.com/missowlit/art/A-Helping-Hand-943154297

Chapter 24: No time like the present, no present like time

Summary:

Last Chapter: The last chapter was a flashback to some of Cresselia’s past. In it, she dealt with intense loneliness, depression, the unwillingness to accept that she is not doing okay, as well as many other things.
The chapter gave a chronological retelling of her brother’s descend into becoming the villain he is later known as, first by simply deciding to leave his island and to ignore the effect his bad dreams and/or endless nightmares might have on others, and later by deliberately antagonizing Cresselia and abusing her trust multiple times. At the same time, Cresselia was forced into the role of a saviour, something she constantly struggled with. The chapter ended on the confrontation Cresselia and Darkrai had where Cresselia repudiated him as her brother.

Darkrai wakes as if he had not slept at all – his mind suddenly active, the memories of a nightmare already slipping away, and the horrified realization of what he had done not even needing to set in.

He sits up as quickly as he had woken, but this, of course, turns out to have been the wrong decision. Because even if his body could handle his rapid waking, it cannot do the same with the sudden change in position, and so, instead of ending up in a proper seated position, he keeps tilting forward. Only his arms, hurriedly placed on the ground, keep him from fully folding in on himself. With a groan, he leans forwards a little more, until he can cradle his head in his hands. Then, he takes deep, conscious breaths, so that the black spots dancing in his vision might disappear soon. The air here, wherever ‘here’ is, is very, very warm.

Finally, his eyesight adjusts, and thus, slowly, he pushes himself up, until he is sitting properly. His hands, he places touching the ground to his left and right, because there is just a little bit of vertigo left. Probably the results of opening a Dimensional Hole – the aftermath of such would always leave him feeling out of sorts. He should probably consider himself lucky to have lost consciousness for what must have been a while after it, because he remembers the effects having been even worse.

Careful not to move his head too rapidly, he turns to look around. Immediately, he realizes where he ended up. He recognizes the ragged rocks around him (as much a danger as they are safety), the folded ground beneath him (so mesmerizing and easy to lose oneself in), the warm air surrounding him (tasting like the sulphur it partly consists of). He knows the rumbling, crinkling sounds of magma surrounding the little almost-island he is on, knows its flickering lights, painting the dark walls of this cavern in ever changing shapes. He knows this place.

He has known it for centuries, and spent years hiding out here, again and again. This is the Dark Crater.

And he managed to escape here, once again. Great. Wonderful. That is what happens when one opens a Dimensional Hole with only the intent of ‘away’. Now he is how many days’ travel away from Treasure Town, exactly? He honestly has no clue, just that it is ‘too many’. And that is not even speaking of time! Is he at the right point of history, or will he have to wait however many years again, to get back to the town without there suddenly being two Darcys? Or is he too far in the future already?

A sigh leaves his mouth as he relaxes his back. He had forced it to be as straight as possible, because it is certainly healthier, but he… really does not feel like keeping up pretences. Curses. Why could he not just have jumped into the Passage of Time alongside Pearl and Grovyle?

… At least he feels comfortable in the Dark Crater. Which must also be why he subconsciously chose this place to escape to. So things could certainly be worse. Like… He could have revealed himself as Darkrai to Dusknoir.

… He stares at his hands, turns them this way and that way and… Yes, the illusion is not in place. Probably has not been in place for quite some while – at least for as long as he was asleep, and the tiny window before that. The tiny window in which he…

“Fuck!” he shouts. Because sometimes, even he needs to get his feelings off his chest. And because the swear words he always vows not to use just work much better for that than ‘Darn it’ or the like. And also because no one can hear or judge him here.

He hates how much better he feels after it. He does not feel good, of course, because he hates using strong swear words, but still, he’s… better now.

And then, someone clears their throat. “Uh… Darcy, right? Because calling you Duskull now would feel really weird. And the voice is the same, definitely.”

Horrified, Darkrai twists around. Right there, behind him, Celebi sits, her legs pulled up to her body, her arms placed on top of her knees, her hands dangling in the air. Her big eyes stare up at him, questioning, but not unfriendly.

And that is when Darkrai realizes that, as awake and aware he had thought himself, he obviously had not been. How could he forget that he himself had been the one to pull her along, right back to the past? Why did he even do that?! 

To… To keep the Dimensional Hole stable. Yes. Yes, that is it, he realizes. That is why he did it, and nothing else. And it worked! Great!

If only Celebi would not just have seen him in his real form! And… heard him curse!

Which is no reason for murder. He thinks.

So… just deny that he is Darcy? That could work. Did she have her back turned towards him, when he let the illusion fall? A voice can easily be claimed to be similar, especially if, for the rest of whatever conversation they are about to have, he makes sure to speak with his proper ‘I am Darkrai, Ruler over Fear and Nightmares and Darkness and whatnot’-voice; instead of just… his normal, ordinary voice.

Yes. Yes, that is an excellent plan—

“And was that, like, an illusion you had going on, to look like a Duskull? Or… is this the illusion? I’m a little confused, I gotta admit. It certainly looked weird enough when you suddenly changed.”

Fu—

Darn it.

He really should not murder her. Even if the magma would be ever so convenient for body disposals. But no, he cannot. He does not even want to murder her, anyways.

He can still work with this. She is a Celebi, sure, but one from the future. She will be forever tied to that future, and once Darkrai has stopped it from coming into existence, the same will be true for Celebi.

… Which is not the same as murder. It is not. After all, time was already changed, he is just ensuring it is changed as it was. Will be? Ugh. He hates all this time travelling business.

In any way, he just needs to ensure her silence until the future is changed, and then the problem will solve itself. So, keeping her from telling absolutely anyone about this it is.

Blast it. This is going to be hard. Sure, he managed Uxie, Azelf and Mesprit knowing who he truly is, and none of them have become a problem, so far. But he has known them for a long time already. Celebi, however… Celebi is best friends with Grovyle and Pearl. The same Grovyle who has decided to hate Darkrai, and the same Pearl who… who Darkrai really cannot have knowing even the slightest bit about his true identity.

Still. He can handle a Celebi from the future. Certainly, he can. Sure, he has not known her for millennia, and sure, he does not truly have a grasp on her character, and of course, there is no reason for her to be on his side, and moreover, she could just disappear through time if he thought about attacking her.  So truly. Just as easy. Definitely.

Not. Of course not! He… may have a habit of believing in his plans a little too much, from time to time, but he would not fool himself that much.

This entire situation is horrid. He should have left her in the future.

Or, to be exact, he should have jumped into the Passage of Time when he had the chance, and left her to fend for herself in the future. She had managed to survive for long enough before, so why did he even think he needed to take her along?

Not sympathy, of course; just… calculation. She can travel through time, after all. That is a useful ally to have.

… Or she would be, if she had not just seen him in his true form. He really should have left her in the future. But asking her now to please travel back there on own so that he can leave her to be killed by Primal Dialga does feel just the slightest bit to be in bad taste.

So instead, he needs a good story to tell. One in which he can admit to being Darcy, while still looking like… well, Darkrai. A story which is not ‘I tried to create the dark future, succeeded in one timeline, failed in the other, tried another mystery plan, failed that one too, decided to take revenge, and’—

“You still there?” Celebi interrupts his thoughts. “You kinda spaced out, I think.”

“I did not,” Darkrai tells her, “Just because I need a few seconds to think about what to answer after your barrage of questions—”

“Okay, sure. So you are Darcy, right? You totally sound and behave like him.”

Darkrai’s eye narrows, but he decides not to acknowledge her words more than he has to.

“I am him,” he admits. There is no way around it.

Celebi pats the ground next to her. Darkrai stares at it in confusion.

“Come on! Sit down properly, not all twisty. That’s gotta be bad for your back, it’s already been through too much!”

… Too much? He twists to look at it, but before he has even made it half the way, he can feel old scars pulling on his skin. Ah. Yes. Of course. His scars, which are now not just there, but also visible. Oh, yes. Of course. Great.

(It is, he think in the recesses of his mind, impressive how much Blissey’s salve has helped those scars. A few months ago, he could still feel them even without making movements out of the ordinary. Now, he can even forget about them, most of the time.)

“Whatever you’re gonna tell me will probably take a while, yeah?” Once again, she pats the ground.

“I guess,” he carefully answers, and after a few more seconds, finally turns around to properly sit opposite her, ignoring the pout at not having placed himself right next to her.

“Like, I already gathered that you brought us here, because it certainly wasn’t me! And while you were still snoring, I had a look around, and first of all, damn, the world used to be so hot? But also, I saw stuff moving and it’s not water – in fact, it’s really, really hot, and touching it is gonna hurt you, so take that as a warning!” She laughs.

Darkrai stares at her in disbelieve, his mind refusing to focus on anything but—
“You touched the magma?”

“Oh, so that’s what the stuff’s supposed to be?”

“… Yes,” Darkrai slowly answers. He is starting to fear that this conversation is going to be incredibly exhausting.

“Cool,” Celebi says, “I still like normal water more, though.”

“Magma is not water.”

“Really? I figured it was like… spicy water. Water which wants to hurt me.”

“… No. It is not. It is… something completely different. Molten rock.”

“Oooh, okay. Well, I’m glad to learn something new! Anyways, to get back to the topic on hand,” Darn it, distraction failed, “You’re Darcy, got it. But why do you look so funky now?”

“… You think I look ‘funky’.” With each passing second, every word spoken, Darkrai starts to think that he would much rather have been stuck here with Grovyle. Because at least he has made it clear what he thinks of Darkrai, and would therefore not need to stoop to such strange insults.

“Funkier than as a Duskull, for certain. So that was the illusion or whatever, yes?”

After a short pause, he decides that the truth will, this once, have to do. A lie would be preferable, of course, but she talks and questions in a way in which no interrogations Darkrai had had in the past had gone, and for some reason, he finds himself considering the truth more worthwhile to tell her.

He nods.

“But why?”

‘That is not of your concern’, he wants to say, but… Of course, he cannot do so. Not if he wants to ensure that she does not tell anyone else about it. And so, he sighs, not sure how he should answer. He does not have enough of a grasp on her character to know what story she would most like to hear.

“It is complicated,” he settles on.

“We’ve got time for you to explain!”

“Not if we do not want to starve in here.”

“I can literally travel through time! I can always travel us to a time where we were not starving.”

“You can?” He had not started earnestly thinking about the possibilities her ability yields, but… But if she can, that might be very, very useful.

Unfortunately, Celebi shrugs. “Dunno, honestly. I could never really try too much, with Primal Dialga so close. But I don’t really feel its restricting grip on the timestream here. So who knows?” Then, she turns to glare at him. It, at least, does not seem like honest anger. “Anyways! That isn’t what this is all about! Don’t think I’m not noticing you trying to evade my questions, Darcy!”

“Please do not call me that.”

“Well, then what’s the name you wanna go by?”

‘Darkrai’ almost slips from his tongue, but… he cannot go by that. Because chances are that Celebi will let it slip, and Grovyle as well as Pearl already had their first meeting with ‘Darkrai’, which really… could have gone better. So, instead, it will have to be…

“… Duskull. Duskull is alright.” And with that, suddenly, Darkrai knows just what story he can tell her. Sure, he still does not have the best grab on her personality, but he knows that she cares for others. And a certain type of compassion is just what he will need, for this. “And before you say anything, let me… Try to explain, I guess.”

He takes a deep breath, his go-to action to make someone else believe that what he is about to say comes to him not easily. It also has the added bonus of just a little more time for him to use for planning what to say next.

“The form you see right now is, well, who I was born as. But, well… It hurts me to admit, I took some actions which others quite… disliked, let’s say. Or, well, which everyone hated me for, more correctly.”

“Whaaat?” Celebi cries out. Darkrai looks at her, annoyed. That reaction was very much fake. Even Cresselia would be able to tell that.

“No, but really, what?” Celebi adds. “There’s some things Pokémon can do which will make others dislike them, but ‘pretty much everyone’? What’s gonna achieve that? Not even Primal Dialga is hated by everyone.”

“I do not want to go into that,” Darkrai sternly tells her. Then, he looks off to the side, because he is meant to act uncomfortable with what he did. He loves the illumination throughout the Dark Crater. It is very much on the brink of complete darkness, but the ever-changing, faint light the magma emits makes each nook and cranny an actor in a shadow play which will always be different. It’s… peaceful.

“Okay, so serial murder, got it.”

Darkrai stares at her. “What? No!”

“Well, it’s what I’m gonna assume, unless you’re going to tell me what really happened.”

“Multiple things happened!” he cries, not even having to pretend to be outraged, “Over multiple years! Do excuse me, but I really do not feel the need to go into all of that!”

“Yeah, but like… if it’s petty theft, not everyone would dislike you. Or even hate you. Did you… hmmm…” She trails off, apparently thinking.

Before she can derail the conversation even more, Darkrai decides to speak up. “Listen, Celebi. I am really not proud of any of the things I did.” Pah, as if! He takes pride in each and every misdeed he has committed.

(At least he likes to tell himself that. There are some things which do make him truly uncomfortable.)

(There are not.)

Still, he continues, a little haltingly, to make it seem as if he is actually ashamed of this all, “I just… It was mistake after mistake, misdeed after misdeed, crime after crime. Alright? And at some point, pretty much everyone I know I had managed to offend or... hurt, I guess…” He trails off. It is not as if they did not deserve it. All of them, each and everyone, they deserved it. But yet still… “You do not have to actually murder others to make them hate you.”

For once, she does not try to make a stupid comment. Instead, she nods. “True. So, everyone hated you. And then?”

Darkrai takes another deep breath. And pauses. It’s not as if they have stopped hating him. Which… Which he can use. “I realized that the way I was behaving would not yield a future I would like to live in,” he says, and then grimaces. Great. Tell the Pokémon from a future she does not like to live in, well, that. “So I stopped my previous…” What to call it? Ah, yes, Cresselia likes to describe it as, “Antics. And started being…”

Being what? Nice? He is not nice. Friendly? Absolutely not. Peaceful? He is actively planning to destroy the future. Well, not entirely. For now, he wants to save the present, so he can later destroy the future. Or something. So what could he tell her that he started being, which would still be rooted in enough in reality to be believed?

“Not as much as a bad guy?” Celebi offers.

Darkrai sighs. “I guess.”

“But lemme guess, not everyone wanted to believe that you’d changed?”

Darkrai stares at Celebi. Celebi stares back, then shrugs. “What? Look, if Dusknoir suddenly told me he was wrong about trying to get us killed by Primal Dialga, I’d be happy for his change of mind, but I’d not believe him. I’d think ‘That’s his newest scheme, isn’t it?’. So I just figure that the same would happen to you, Mr. Not-A-Serial-Murderer.”

“Do not call me that. But…” Darkrai sighs yet again. He really should stop doing that so often. “I guess you are not too far from the truth. No matter how much I tried to show how earnest I was, and how much I regretted what I did… others would not believe that I had changed.”

Not that he actually tried, but he is sure that, if he actually did, the reactions would be like that. For a moment, he thinks of Uxie, who was much too ready to accept change, and Azelf, who was much too happy to do the same, but… they do not count. Uxie only needed to trust Darkrai because of the whole thing with Wigglytuff’s Guide, and Azelf is… Azelf does not know what is good for him.

“And so you…?” she prompts, as if he had taken too long to continue. The gall…! But, well. He will continue to humour her.

“I came to realize that they would never forgive me. And while I would claim that I understand, and maybe, in a way, I do… I still wished that it was different.” There, slight emotional moment. So his story must be true. He waves his hand, as if wanting to move along. Which he does want to do, just in a different way than he is trying to make Celebi believe. “Well, to make a much too long story short, I found a way to create a lifelike illusion.”

“You mean deathlike?”

“What.”

Celebi laughs. “Duskull are ghosts.”

“I know that Duskull are ghosts,” Darkrai tells her, a frown on his face. “The illusion is not lifelike because it depicts a living being, but because it depicts something as if it was reality.”

“Yeah, I got that already,” Celebi says, still grinning, “I was just making a pun.”

“If you are not interested—”

“I am! I just like making puns! So just act like I didn’t say anything, continue your woeful monologue.”

Darkrai stares at her. Maybe throwing her into the magma—

“Will it help if I say I’m sorry? Because I didn’t actually mean to upset you. So, for that, sorry!”

Darkrai groans. “I guess. Just… Don’t keep interrupting me!”

“Consider it done!” She smiles and places one of her fingers before her mouth, miming a shushing motion. Darkrai stares at her in distrust, but when she does not try to talk even after he has let the silence draw out for longer than strictly necessary, he decides to take his chances.

“Well. In any way, I created this illusion of a Duskull, so that I could live free of the memories and judgements associated with this form.” He gestures at himself.

Celebi nods, but says nothing. Darkrai continues.

“I have lived as ‘Darcy’ for decades now.” At least it feels like it. “And that is who I want to be. Just a simple Duskull. Who no one distrusts because of things he did so very long ago, things he regrets more than anything else…”

He trails off. Would that not be… Well. Yes. Of course, it would be nice if everyone just… acted as if they had forgotten the things he did. Not that he regrets them, but… It would be a nice change of pace.

But he would not stop doing his ‘schemes to spread dissonance’, of course, and soon enough, everyone would be angry with him again. They would be angry with him even without those, though. They always have been.

Still, if, for just a tiny moment he could know what it would feel like to be beloved by everyone—

No. No, he does not need that. He had come to terms with the world’s hate for him centuries ago. And nothing about that has changed. There are only so many times he will take being called a ‘curse on the world’ lying down. He is not a curse just because he is cursed.

Anyways, this story must be good enough. It simply must be, because Darkrai really does not know what to do with Celebi if she decides not to accept it.

“That… I mean, that makes sense.” Celebi looks at him, considering. Unsure. “So, does anyone else know?”

After a quick consideration, Darkrai shakes his head. Since there is no chance of her meeting either of the Lake Trio, there really is no one she should know about.

“Not even Pearl?”

Oh. Oh no. Did…  Did Darkrai mistake her compassion to be all-encompassing , when in reality it is compassion only for her friends? Because if he did, then she will, of course, immediately tell Pearl and Grovyle about this. And he cannot have that. Sure, maybe for Pearl, he could come up with some lie—

No. No, he would not, he realizes, dread running like cold water down his back. Whatever relationship he had with Pearl, its broken. Even if she agreed to take him along when they were still in the future, and even if, by the end of their travel, she was almost back to her usual self towards him, the matter of the fact is that she simply was not. She still considered him someone she could not trust when they were separated, and that will not have changed so quickly between then and now.

So if Celebi told either of them… He considers her. She is not overly strong, unlike Grovyle and Dusknoir. No, her fighting style relies much more on evasion and trickery. So if he manages to hit her with Ominous Wind first, then Dark Void, she should—

“So I guess no?”

He stares at her. He stayed silent too long. Now, he closes his eye for a moment, breaths in, and then looks at her again. “No. Not even Pearl. I thought about it, I truly did. But… I am a Duskull, as far as I am concerned. In fact, if I was not busy talking to you, I would have already taken on the illusion again.”

He would not. He actually quite enjoys being like this, for once. But sacrifices need to be made.

“Oh!” Celebi breaths, in… surprise? Then, she laughs. “No, I didn’t mean that part! Like, that illusion is entirely your business!”

What.

“I meant about the part where you did bad stuff! Although I get where the confusion came from, that’s entirely on me. But yeah, I feel like that’s something Pearl really should know. Like, not even the specifics. Just ‘hey, I used to do stupid stuff, but I’ve outgrown it’, ya know? So it couldn’t come back to haunt either of you later.” She gestures with her hands. “I feel like, if I had been your friend for a long time – how long have you been friends, by the way? You said something like five months, but honestly, no clue how long that is in the past – anyways, I really would want to know about it. So, did you tell her?”

“I… No. I just told you why I even took on this illusion.”

She waves what he said away. “Yeah, but that’s for Pokémon who aren’t your best friends, right?”

“Best—”

“Her Dimensional Scream apparently works around you, so yes. In case you do not know, it only—”

“I know that it only works around people she trusts.” Darkrai interrupts, annoyed. Why does she just assume he is so ignorant as to not know?

“Just making sure! Anyways, you are best friends. So, why not tell her?” Celebi looks at him with big eyes. Darkrai stares past her. How utterly annoying.

“Because I don’t want her to treat me like a villain,” he tells Celebi. Really, is that so complicated to understands? Besides, if he told Pearl about his ‘bad deeds’ now, she would most decidedly decide that not only will she no longer be his friend, but she will also call Magnezone on him. Maybe if he had not had to openly let Dusknoir proceed with trying to kill her, she would not, but now? Most definitely a final nail in his coffin.

“You do know that she wouldn’t, though, right?” Celebi stares at him critically. “Like, technically speaking, Pearl’s an outlaw in our time. Maybe yours as well, Emerald managed to be! And also, if you’re nice now, and don’t do your crimes anymore, then she’s not gonna hold it against you!”

Dakrai barks out a laugh. If only it was that easy! No, Pearl would never forgive him, that, he knows. Oh, maybe, on second thought, she might be willing to forgive his past deeds, he will give her that. Things that happened decades ago, things that are only remembered by the few who have lived for even longer.

But things like creating the dark future? Attacking Grovyle, trying to kill him? Becoming her friend, just to betray her? No. No, that she would not forgive.

Which is what he wants, anyways! What kind of betrayal would it be if she just looked at him once he revealed himself, and said ‘Oh, it’s alright, forgiven and forgotten’? No proper revenge at all, obviously.

He would not want that reaction. He wants to see her in disbelief, to savour her heartbroken mien, to know that his machinations have destroyed her emotionally, so very much so that she won’t even have the energy to fight, anymore.

He swallows.

That is what he wants.

(But if he would never have to reveal himself, and could just stay ‘Darcy’—)

“Don’t laugh!” Celebi admonishes, “I mean it!”

“Of course.” He takes a moment to think about what to say next. Compromise, he decides. “I will tell her. But let me decide when. Alright?”

Celebi seems like she wants to object to that, but then, she sighs. “Yeah, sure. It’s your business anyways. Just don’t wait too long.” She looks to the side. “Don’t wait until it’s too late, yeah?”

Darkrai furrows his brow. Now that sounds ominous. But he really is not in the mood for deciphering whatever hidden meaning there was.

“I won’t, obviously,” he lies. Then, he lifts himself off the ground. “Now, let us get out of here. If Pearl and Grovyle managed to get to the past, then I believe that they will most likely make their way to Treasure Town.”

“Oh! Yeah!” She flutters her wings to get off the ground, and starts flying next to him. “A town, how exciting! Where is it? How long will we have to travel?”

Darkrai shrugs, enjoying that he can actually do it with just his shoulders, now. He does still use his arms, as well, but that is just force of habit.

“I am not sure. If I had to wager, maybe a week? The Dark Crater is quite far away… And on an island, as well. So we will need to find a way to cross the ocean safely. I doubt that either of us can float or fly long enough for that.”

“Dark Crater? That’s where we are?”

Once Darkrai nods, Celebi continues. “Cool name. Kinda dreary. But if we are so far away, why did you… zap us here? And not somewhere closer?”

He rolls his eye and starts walking towards the stairs, leading to this island. There is a shortcut out of the Crater, of course, but they will first need to get off this platform. He does like the island, since there, he won’t be interrupted by feral Pokémon – as sometimes happens when he just stays in a random floor in the Dungeon – but for now, they do need to focus on getting out. Which will, by his estimates, take about half a day, anyways, so there is no reason to wait around.

“Because I did not choose this place. At least not consciously. “I was more focused on not getting killed by Primal Dialga.”

Celebi laughs. “Makes sense. How did you even get us here, now that we’re talking about it? That was a Dimensional Hole we travelled through, yeah?”

Darkrai decides not to deign her with an answer. It is bad enough that she knows his real identity now, or at least how he looks. If he tells her that, yes, that was a Dimensional Hole, and yes, he opened it, and also yes, he has that ability… No, that just will not do. Besides, just from the magma moving, he is sure that they ended up in a place where time, and probably space as well, are still doing exactly as they ought to. Nothing stopped, nothing distorted about either. Which leaves him void of that power, anyways.

None of which he will share with Celebi.

“Come on, Darcy! I just wanna know!”

“Duskull.”

“But calling you Duskull is lame. Not because I don’t see you as a Duskull, even when you look like this, but names are just much nicer!”

“Look at who is speaking, Celebi.”

“Exactly!” she cries. “It’s totally boring, isn’t it? I wish someone would give me a cool name. Like… Hmm… Well, if I knew any cool names, I would’ve given myself one already.”

“Very interesting,” Darkrai drawls, navigating the two of them along a narrow ledge, beneath which only magma awaits those unlucky enough to fall.  Not that it would be a problem for either of them, Celebi can fly, and Darkrai can float. They both would emerge from atop the magma probably a little burnt, but still alive.

“So, anyways, Dimensional Hole?”

“No,” Darkrai tells her, this time. “Just be thankful that I did not let Primal Dialga kill us.”

“I totally am!” she sings, flying ahead of him and then turning around to fly backwards to look at him. Does she realize that there are hundreds of stalactites and similar which she will knock into? He is certainly not going to save her if she does end up falling into the magma. That is simply a problem solving itself.

She continues talking, unaware of probably everything.

“Still, if you ever feel like telling, know that I can keep a secret! Even multiple secrets!” Then, she sighs. “Still, it sucks that we now have to walk all the way through here.” She gestures at the bottom of the Dark Crater opening up beneath them. From here, they have a perfect vantage point over its sprawling size. This path is going to continue looping around the walls of the cavern, until it will transition into a tunnel through the igneous rock forming this cavern, a winding mix of stairway and ramp towards the surface.

“Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do about that. Unless…” He trails off. Maybe…

He looks at his bag – the old bag, kept throughout the future and now part of the past again. The old explorer’s badge is still clipped securely to its frontside. Just beckoning Darkrai to use it.

… If only he knew how. But he is not about to just start pressing buttons randomly. Who knows what could happen? Darkrai did not think it prudent to listen to Chatot explain, and he still stands by that decision. Chatot is annoying.

“Unless?” Celebi prompts.

Darkrai shakes his head. “No, nothing. The badge on this bag,” he explains, “Could technically teleport someone to Treasure Town, but it was already replaced once, so it won’t work anymore. Besides, it is a complicated piece of technology. Only few know how to use it.”

Like Pearl. And Chatot.

“But shouldn’t we still try it? I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“It is outdated. We could have any kind of accident.”

Celebi stares at him, looking incredibly unimpressed.

“You don’t know how to use it, do you?”

“Of course I do!” Darkrai defends himself. Obviously, he knows. He just… decides not to know right now. He points at the badge. “See, you only, uh, you push this thingamajig, and then, you, uh…”

Celebi closes her eyes for a short moment. She takes a deep breath. “You really, really don’t know how to use it, do you?”

“Whatever,” Darkrai tells her.

They continue walking.

 

Around halfway out of the crater, their awkward conversations finally die down – not because of Darkrai’s single-word answers, as Celebi has proven not to care about that, but because of the exhaustion setting in. The Dark Crater is hot, and the path they are taking continues to wind upwards, only changing its steepness between ‘barely manageable’ and ‘almost not manageable’. Darkrai is really looking forward to the tunnel making up the last third of the way out. The temperature is much more acceptable in there, and there is also no chance of losing one’s footing and falling all the way down.

… At least Celebi decided to finally stay silent.

And then, that thought just thought, Celebi, obviously, speaks up again. “Hey, can I have that badge?”

“No,” Darkrai tells her, and then, he asks, “What do you want it for, anyways?”

“Figure out how not to burn to death trying to get out of here.”

She might have a point, Darkrai considers, as he shakes himself and feels a few beads of sweat displace themselves. He does not sweat often or a lot, luckily, and even staying in the Dark Crater normally doesn’t lead to it… But walking this winding path above a lake of magma just tends to push even him a little too far. Here, many metres above, the air is incredibly hot, even hotter than when on the island literally surrounded by magma. It feels sticky in his lungs.

He looks at Celebi. For a grass type, she has kept quiet enough about the temperature. And so, he deigns to tell her, “We will enter a tunnel soon enough. It is much cooler in there.”

Celebi shrugs. “Yeah, sure, but still! If that badge can just zoom us over to your town, why not try to figure it out? I can’t do more damage to it than you.”

“Yes, you can.” Darkrai throws his hand over the badge when Celebi tries to make a reach for it. “And that is the end of this conversation.”

“Whatever,” Celebi says. And then, she obviously becomes too exhausted to say anything else, because blessed silence envelops them anew.

And they continue walking.

 

“Say, why are you still running around like… that?” Celebi, flying backwards yet again now that they are in the considerable safety of the tunnel, points at him, which, rude. But also understandable, since he had decided to not yet don his illusion. His reason for that is quite simple – he likes being himself. And it is also nice to know that he is not missing a huge part of his powers.

But unfortunately, he cannot tell Celebi so. No, as far as she is aware, he is comfortable being in the form of a Duskull. He sighs theatrically. “Creating the illusion takes a lot of my energy, and keeping it active considerably weakens me. I will assume it again once we are out of here, but for now, travelling like this is safer.”

She looks at him, then nods, accepting the reasoning. “Makes sense. Anyways, can I have the—"

“No,” Darkrai interrupts. “The badge is mine. And if you make a grab for it again, I will chop your hand off.”

“With what? You don’t have a weapon for that.”

Darkrai flexes his claws, in a way that tells her how sharp, exactly, they can be. “That won’t stop me.”

Celebi pouts, then starts to grins. “We’ll see about that.”

Darkrai glares at her. His words were not a challenge. And although he would not actually cut Celebi’s hand off, he will not let her get the badge.

 

They reach the outside of the crater after a gruelling amount of time, made even worse because Celebi just keeps trying to grab the badge. He is still not sure what to do once he needs to sleep, but that is for future him to figure out.

In any way, they finally step outside, into a late night, or maybe an early morning. Clouds cover the sky, preventing Darkrai from figuring out the time based on the position of the stars. Yet still, it feels… very, very different from the unending darkness of the future. His inner clock has, as of yet, not returned completely. Of course, even in the future, he could always tell the approximate amount of time which had passed, something like a stretch of time being ten or fifteen minutes. But after sleeping too much and not enough, in erratic patterns, he had lost the feeling for when sunrise and sunset were supposed to be. And that, obviously, has not yet returned.

And now the clouds once again keep him from being able to tell – although the stars might not be as helpful as he would want them to be. He cannot be sure that the time they ended up in is close to the past he left, and he does not have an eidetic memory when it comes to the stars position during each year he has been alive – and each year he will continue to be.

Well. Nothing he can do about that. In the best-case scenario, they still have many hours of night left. In the worst case, his eyes will soon have to adjust to daylight again. Although… Although he might be hoping for the second case a little more than he normally would. Not that he… dislikes the darkness, but…

Whatever.

The Dark Crater, on its outside, consists of layered cliffs, rising from a mostly even ground. It looks very much displaced, which shows just how violent its formation must have been. Whatever – whoever – fell from the skies to create it must have died a violent, lonely death, it seems to say – and even if it was just a piece of rock, which is much more likely, Darkrai likes the other association more. It is a place which tells others to ‘keep out’, and because of that, became a solace to him.

Celebi and he emerged almost on top of the cliffs, one of the few disadvantages of the hidden path. Which is still better than walking through the Dungeon. Besides, Darkrai can float and Celebi can fly, so their way down won’t be too much of a hassle.

Celebi lets out a loud, theatrical sigh. “Finally! It was getting so hot, I feared my wings would just burn off!” Then, she laughs, as she usually does. “But out here, it’s way nicer!” To… prove her point, probably, she stretches her arms and twirls around.

Darkrai just hums in answer, which, as usual, does not keep Celebi from continuing to talk.

“Can we stay up here for a bit?” she asks, “Because honestly, the way up was exhausting.”

He thinks about it for a moment and then nods. “It is much safer to rest up here, anyways.” Because it gives him a good view of their surroundings, and also makes it much harder on others to reach Celebi and him. Not that there is much to look out for, here – the Pokémon living on the island tend to stick to the Dungeons, and those who do not might have already seen him in his true form previously. Which is important because he made clear to them that he wanted them to stay away, and after some time, they learnt to do just that.

Celebi whoops, and then flies around the cliff they found themselves on, seemingly searching for a place to sit down. Darkrai does the same, but only after Celebi has found her place – ensuring that there is some distance between them. When he makes the mistake of turning his head towards her, he sees her put on a big pout, but obviously, he just ignores that. Instead, after a while, he allows himself to lie down on his back, putting his bag beneath his head. A benefit to the hotness of the Dark Crater is that even on its outside, most stones emit a certain warmth, and that warmth at his back, paired with the delightfully cool nighttime-air around him slowly lulls him away, and with his breaths getting slower and slower, he falls asleep.

 

“Darcy! Darcy!”

With a gasp, he tears himself up, frantically looking around for whatever awoke him – and Celebi is in front of his face, much too close—

He flails, she yelps, and the next moment, she’s rubbing her cheek. “Oh wow, you can pack a punch, huh?”

He stares at her with a widened eye, not yet grasping the situation. His heart beats quicker than her wings flap.

“Sorry for waking you like this,” she then apologizes, still rubbing her cheek. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Normally, he would scoff and say something along the lines of ‘Obviously’, or maybe ‘I did not know you could do that in the first place’, but instead, he starts to worry.

“Did I hurt—”

“No, I’m alright!” she immediately interjects, pulling her hand away from her face. “I was quick to evade most of your punch, see?” She shows him the side of her face she was rubbing, and except for a small, reddened circle, there is nothing.

Luckily, there is nothing.

“And I don’t blame you for it! Emerald also kicks and punches when he’s woken too roughly, but—” And suddenly, she seems to get very, very excited, “But Darcy, look! The sky, it changed colours!” She points in some direction, and as he looks, he can tell that, yes, obviously the sky changed colours, because the sun is about to rise. Judging by the blue hue of the entire sky, drenching the earth in the same soft tones, it will probably need around an hour or so for the sun to appear, depending on what season they are in, right now.

He blinks, slowly. Then he rubs his hands over his face. He feels just the tiniest bit disoriented, which might just be because of the rude awaking. “I mean… Yes,” he finally says, which also proves to him that he was awoken too quickly. None of his usual eloquence can be found, right now.

“Is that… I mean, the sky changing colours, does that mean… I only heard about it, but…” Celebi stumbles, stutters over her sentences. He turns to look at her. She takes a breath. “Is that a sunrise?”

Darkrai stares some more, and it needs embarrassing amount of time until he understands why she is behaving like this. She has never seen a sunrise before, has she? For a moment, he considers commenting in his usual way, but… right now, it does not feel like the right time for it.

“Yes,” he simply tells her, “At least the start of it. It will still be quite some time until the sun actually appears.”

‘We might not see it, really, what with the clouds,’ he does not tell her. Who knows, maybe the sun will break through, after all. The clouds straight above them are certainly starting to break up, so who knows? Maybe Celebi will be lucky.

“Can we… Can we watch?” She sounds so very unlike the annoying creature she showed herself as in the Dark Crater – she sounds much more helpless, now. Unprepared, maybe.

Darkrai looks towards the lightest part of the blue, indicating east. “Your eyes are not good enough to traverse the cliffs in this light, anyways,” he says. He ignores the giant smile he can see out of the corner of his eye.

And then, they watch. As the blue hour passes, as more colours start to appear, as the clouds break up to such a degree that Darkrai is sure that Celebi will actually see the sun. And then, with the colours intensifying more and more, finally, the sun peaks over the mountains.

The moment it does, Celebi first stands up, and then flies up. Her eyes grow wide as plates. “That… That’s the sun?”

Darkrai nods. ”It is.”

“It’s… It’s so beautiful…” Darkrai turns away from her, because he has no interest in seeing her tears. Instead, he stares at the sun.

“I had no idea that it would be so beautiful…” Celebi whispers, and it is at this moment, that Darkrai realizes that she is right. The rising sun is beautiful.

Maybe… maybe there is a beauty to the light. And maybe, just maybe the power of the world’s darkness comes from its juxtaposition to the light.

Maybe… Just maybe…

He does not want to think it. He cannot stop his thoughts in time.

(Maybe… he was wrong in what he did.)

 

“And this, what’s this??”

Darkrai groans. This has been going on for the last six hours. Hours! He might just be regretting his decision to take Celebi with him. He thought she would be a bothersome blabbermouth, and sure, he was right.

But he thought she would be more like… Mew, for example! Mew happens to be a bothersome blabbermouth, and still be considered kind-of-cute. Or Hoopa! At least as long as he’s in his confined form. He is over-excitable and cannot sit still for more than three seconds, but even he is better than this… pink ball of overexcitement!

Instead, every object, every plant, every colour they come across, he has to explain to her! And once he does so, she will just run off again, to follow her newest interest! He’d have thought that the Dark Crater and its surroundings should not be considered too different from the future, but apparently, they are.

It does not matter that they are traversing what is essentially just rolling grasslands. No, every plant is interesting to her, even if they are just different types of grass. Of course they are just different types of grass. They are in a grassland, what did she expect?

But no, he has to explain that this is feathergrass, and that is lyme grass, and the one over there is called wooloo grass, and yes, that one is feather grass too, it literally looks the same, no, that one is not, they look entirely different; that is a seed, some types of them grow here, do not use it—

Yes, that is a shrub with moving leaves, that is what happens in a light breeze, can they please move on? No, of course the small trinkle of water is not motionless, and yes, that is a brook, it might look small but one can’t just jump in, it might still be dangerous—

No, the badge is still off limits, it is his—

The air moving is called wind, that is nothing to be afraid of, it is perfectly natural, and yes, it’s the thing moving the clouds, which exist, and no, he will not go into depth as to what they are made of, no, that is really not necessary, because she does not need to know everything—

Of course he knows how clouds come into existence! It’s simple, see, it has to do with the water cycle—

And yes, the world is just ‘noisy’, even with no one to see, that is natural—

Could they not stop every time the sun peeks through the clouds, please and thank you—

“Hey, what’s this thing?” She lifts something up. It seems to be a type of seed, and judging by its shape, colour and ridges…

He sighs out loud. “Probably an X-Eye Seed. Do not touch or eat it, it will make you-“

“Darcy?? Where are you, is that green thingy you?!”

He groans. And he could not even get her to stop using this thrice cursed name! Did he not explicitly tell her to call him Duskull? Multiple times? But no, she just keeps calling him Darcy. No matter how many times he snaps at her to stop it.

And even he can admit that it has become too many times. This is a losing battle if he ever saw one. Add on that that he has had to take the illusion on again, and there is not much to salvage this day.

If they can make it to the ocean on the east coast in three more days, a route which normally takes just a little over two days, he will be thankful.

 

“So anyways, I wasn’t about to let her just get away with that! And so, I warped myself through time—”

“Celebi.”

“—And without her being able to do like, anything, I—”

“Celebi.”

“—squashed the berries in her face. Anyways, what did you want, Darcy?”

He takes a deep breath. Then, he carefully enunciates, “I do not care.”

“You don’t care? About what?” And, almost as if in mockery, she looks at him with a clueless face.

“Your story! I do not care about it, you do not have to tell me!”

“But I thought you would be interested in getting to know some funny stories about Pearl and how—”

 “I am interested in going to sleep.”

“Well, then just do that! I’m not stopping you!” The magnanimous smile on her face is most definitely mockery.

“… You are.”

“Not my fault if you listen to my story. But if you wanna sleep, just sleep. I won’t talk to you.”

“You won’t?”

“I swear!”

“… Alright.” This sounds like a setup… but he is honestly too tired to care. He closes his eye and makes himself comfortable on the ground.

Silence.

Blessed silence.

Ah, yes, this is perfec—

“So, yeah, next time she obviously tried to—”

“Celebi!”

“I’m not talking to you! Geez! I’m talking to the moon, stay out of our conversation! This is my first time meeting her, I wanna make it count!”

Darkrai groans into the grass.

 

Darkrai is awoken by a scream. Now, if he was anyone else, he might be disoriented, but… This has happened very often. In fact, almost every time he had slept next to someone who is not Cresselia. Pearl was a nice exception to the rule, because she does not really make a lot of noise when she has a nightmare. Sometimes, she will wake up in tears, but even then, she is quite good at keeping her sobs quiet.

Celebi, who woke him just now, is obviously a different case.

Darkrai slowly sits up and stares at her. She was the one who screamed, of course, and judging by her thrashing and still closed, tear-filled eyes, she is having a bad dream. Unsurprising.

He ponders what to do. Wake her and steal the sleep her body needs, no matter if she enjoys it or not, or let her sleep and be caught in whatever terror her mind came up with?

When she screams a second time, he makes a decision.

“Celebi,” he calls, and when she does not react, with a firmer voice, again, “Celebi!”

He knows that shaking her would probably be more efficient, and also not very dangerous, because whatever attack she will throw at him will not hurt overly much, but… He does not want to touch her. He does not want to touch anyone. Sometimes, he has to make exceptions, and some exceptions are not even as bad as he at first thinks they will be, but…

Not for her. Not now. He will try to get her to wake by his voice alone, but if that is not enough, then she is unlucky. That is not his fault. And Darkrai can fall asleep with someone screaming and shouting next to him. He has done it often enough.

One last chance, he decides.

“CELEBI!” he shouts.

This time, her eyes open wide, and then, she’s sitting upright.

“What-, I-, Darcy, Darcy, are you okay?” The moment she sees him, she startsher panicked questions. And she also approaches. Darkrai leans away from the impending touch.

“Yes,” he tells her in a firm voice, stretching out his arm, his hand flat in a way that means ‘stop’, just in case she comes any closer – because the touched palm of a hand is better than any other parts of his body. “I am alright. You had a nightmare.”

“A nightmare…?” she whispers, grabbing his hand as if he offered it to her, and then sinks into herself, hugging his hand like a lifeline. “Oh. I… I thought…”

“A nightmare,” he repeats, trying to pull his hand free, not interested in what she dreamt about. If he wanted to know, he could see for himself, but he is not interested in breaching her privacy like that. Knowing her, he can already tell what she is dreaming about, anyways – Grovyle getting hurt, Pearl getting hurt, herself not being strong enough to protect them… The usual spiel. Maybe also a bit of Primal Dialga succeeding in protecting the broken future, and herself being forced to continue living in it with no hope of it ever ending. Probably also Pearl and Grovyle being dead in that timeline, so that she will be forever alone.

Not that any of that matters. She had a nightmare, and she will have to continue to have them as long as she travels with him. Their contents might change from night to night, but there is nothing he can do about it.

 “I’ve had nightmares before,” she whispers, “But this one was… really, really bad.”

Darkrai stays nonchalant as he answers, once again trying to pull his hand away, and finally succeeding. “That happens. Do not worry about it. Just go to sleep again.”

“I… Yeah,” Celebi says, and she nods, “Yeah. I’ll… try.”

She does not move back to the place she laid at before, Darkrai notices. Instead, she stays closer to him than he likes as she lies down. But he lets her, at least until he can hear her slowing breaths. And then, he moves away from her again.

 

“They’re… They’re okay, aren’t they?” Celebi hesitantly, quietly, asks that morning. Darkrai and her had been walking ever since the sunrise – which Celebi was awake for, and so was Darkrai – and except for some necessary words exchanged, like ‘Let us proceed’, and ‘Yeah, let’s do that’, they had done so in silence. But now, a little later, midmorning not yet over, Celebi finally spoke up. There was no preamble to it, and still, Darkrai knows what she is asking. But that does not help him, because…

“How should I know?” he questions back. It comes out sounding harsher than he wanted it to. He has not let his hand touch any other part of his body for hours now.

He can hear Celebi swallow even from where he is further ahead.

“Yeah… Sorry. I just… Primal Dialga has never been so close, when I tried to let someone travel through time.” She is talking around the topic, which suits Darkrai well enough.

“Primal Dialga also seemed quite busy trying to kill you and me,” Darkrai states, a try at calming her worries.

(A try at calming his own worries.)

“Yeah,” Celebi hesitantly answers, and then, more assured, repeats, “Yeah! It didn’t focus on them at all. And even when we time-travelled directly in front of its nose, it didn’t kill us! It just interrupted our travels. So they are definitely okay.”

Darkrai says nothing to that, because there is no way to know. They do not even know in which time they, themselves, landed.

Yet still, after a short pause, he nods. Because obviously, Grovyle and Pearl must be alright.

 

Celebi’s downtrodden mood has entirely disappeared after they made a short break around midday.

Which would be wonderful, if she was not so annoying.

Now, Darkrai would never claim that he is a particularly good singer. His singing voice exists in this strange realm where it is neither high nor low, where it sounds neither male nor female. It is confusing, he has been told, and confusing often gets conflated for unpleasant. Which he does not care about, because he also does not care about singing. But at least he can hit the right notes. Something that… can definitely not be said about Celebi.

And sure, the first half hour, he might have still been able to filter it out, might have been able to concentrate on other things. Like the grass and shrubs here, which look so beautifully alive. Or the sun, which, while still a tad too intense for his eyes is still wonderful to walk beneath.

The second half hour might have become much harder, because his angry harrumphs and passive-aggressive comments about dying Pokémon of any kind sounding more melodious did not get through, obviously. And the grass and shrubs looked exactly like those half an hour earlier, and his eyes are made for night vision, not the sunlight, and he is starting to feel that.

And by the third…

“Celebi. I am close to begging you. Stop singing.”

“Whyyy?” She sings back at him, making a show of lengthening the ‘y’ into multiple off-key notes.

“Because I really cannot promise not to kill you if you continue to do it.”

“You’d kill me over me just singing? Enjoying my time in the past?” The questions are rhetorical, which is made clear by her continuing to speak without Darkrai being allowed any input. “Pah, suit yourself then! I’ll stop singing, alright.”

And she does. For almost five minutes.

After which she starts whistling.

 

Celebi is the first to fall asleep that evening. Darkrai is quite thankful for that, because it means that she is finally quiet. He will also go to sleep soon enough – the grasslands here tend not to see many Pokémon at all, and he feels secure enough in his ability to be awoken by the tiniest noise to forego either of them keeping watch. And he would also just not trust Celebi with that.

But for now, he will stay awake a little longer, if only to enjoy the fact that Celebi is not annoying him right now.

He uses the time to first organize his bag’s contents anew – the food he had stocked up on before leaving the stockade in the future is getting very low, and the areas around the Dark Crater have never yielded much. Depending on what season it might currently be, there could be some roots they could forage for, if the food ran out. And he should probably start collecting more of the seeds they passed by, because even an X-eye Seed will, ignoring its regrettable effect, fill someone’s stomach a little.

For now, if he stays careful with its dispensing, it should still hold for two days, though. Celebi is small, and Darkrai can deal with a little less than strictly necessary for a long while.

That task finally done, he stares at the explorer’s badge. If only he understood how to use it, it could grant a quick way to Treasure Town. But what he told Celebi is most likely true – it might not work anymore. Hoping for it to do anyways is folly. Best to just focus on getting back to Treasure Town on his own.

He lies down, the bag beneath his head, turned so that the badge lies directly on the ground – the only way he feels it safe enough to sleep with Celebi still intent on ‘figuring that badge out’. She did stop trying to make a grab for it quite so often, especially once he lost his calm because she kept accidentally touching him in her tries to get to it. He might, somewhat regrettably, have shouted at her to stop, and he… he does not feel good about it. But what else was he to do? The water they had come across so far is never deep enough to fully bathe himself, and just rubbing water over the places she touched is… not enough.

He feels so disgusting.

Even worse is that he has felt that way ever since they escaped the future, or maybe even back then. The feeling, he is aware, has only the slightest bit to do with Celebi, but who else can he blame, right now? Dusknoir, maybe, for forcing Pearl and him into the future, for leading to this break, this tear, this chasm in their relationship which has now formed. Grovyle, perhaps, for having been careless enough to let himself get caught, giving Dusknoir reason to even return to the future, for giving Pearl someone else, someone nicer, someone better to lean on in her time of need. Primal Dialga, probably, for being what it is and trying to continue being so.

But who is really to blame for that dark future even coming into existence?

… He turns to his side and stares at Celebi, who is, for now, still breathing evenly. Once her mind becomes active enough to dream, that will change. But for now, she sleeps soundly.

It is not as if Darkrai had known that this all would happen, when he had sabotaged Temporal Tower. How should he have known it would happen? Primal Dialga had seemed a ghost of the past, a faint memory of a horror he never got close enough to properly experience. So why had it become a reality of the future?

How should he have known?

And… And how should he have known that a dark future, a quiet future, an unmoving future, would only be soothing for the first few hours? It was supposed to be beautiful. Not… this.

He had not wanted this. But once the others find out, he will get blamed for it nonetheless, because did he not initiate the fall of Temporal Tower? Did he not have the intention to create that dark, quiet, unmoving future?

… He did. And he… he… he still does. Because there must be a future in which he can belong.

And that place is not the present, and if he does not change it, it won’t ever accept him. He tried. He tried to create a place for himself, but what use was it when his ability, his curse, would always ruin that? As long as the world is as it is, it won’t have space for a blight like him.

He hates those words. He hates that he can recall them in so many different voices, places, times. They wanted to see him as a blight, so he is not to blame for letting them see him as one. And he is not to blame for creating the dark future—

But he is. That is something to take pride in! Who else but him had managed to make Temporal Tower collapse? Not Palkia during any of his quarrels with his brother, not the Treasures of Ruin when they still walked freely, not Giratina at any point of trying to assert dominance over this reality. No, only Darkrai managed to do so!

Yet, as much as he tries to take pride in his actions, he still feels so dirty. He feels touched all over, and nothing he does ever gets that feeling to disappear fully. Sometimes, it will lessen, and sometimes, he will almost start to forget about it, but then, it will return, and he will feel so disgusting again.

Celebi takes a shuddering breath, the first of many, tonight. Darkrai does not want to watch and turns his back to her.

Maybe… It would have been for the best if he had just left her in the future. It definitely would have been best if he never tried to gain Dusknoir’s alliance, or Uxie and Azelf’s trust, or-, or-, or Pearl’s friendship! What did he gain by forcing himself through all these motions? Dusknoir will hate him for killing Artabasdos, Uxie and Azelf will never again consider forgiving him for his past deeds, and Pearl…

He buries his head beneath his arms as much as he can. He just wants to fall asleep. It can’t be worse than staying awake, right now.

Pearl, who he just wants to betray. Pearl, who has extended a reaching hand again and again. Pearl, who has never known the real him, but started to like the him he—

The him he—

The him he has created only for the purpose of betraying her and everyone else.

(The him he wants to be.)

He doesn’t.

(He does.)

 

Celebi seems like she wants to ask something, after she wakes up. After looking at him for a moment, she instead turns her gaze away. And then seems to decide on a different topic. “I… Thank you,” she says.

Darkrai stares at her, uncomprehending.

“For pulling me along,” she tells him. “It probably would have been easier for you to just let me sacrifice myself, but instead you found a way for me to escape dea—, the future as well. I just want to let you know that… I’m really, really thankful for it.”

She looks at him. Her eyes tell him how earnest she is. “This past is beautiful, and I will do everything in my power to protect it.”

Darkrai looks away.

“Thank you for giving me a chance to see what I’m fighting for, Darcy.”

He continues staring at the grass beneath his feet, and when the silence becomes too loud, abruptly turns around to continue walking towards the direction he knows the ocean to be in.

 

Just like the day before, around midday, the sombre mood passes. Whether that is good or not, Darkrai is not quite sure.

“Did I ever tell you about the time that Emerald got stuck in an old fence, next to a super high cliff?”

Darkrai rolls his eye. “I am not interes-… Wait, stuck in an old fence?”

“Hah, I knew that you’d be interested in that one! Alright, so, you obviously can’t tell him that I told you, because he wants to act like it never happened, but honestly, it was so funny. Okay, so, imagine…”

 

“Oh, this one’s really good! What do you call a big pile of Meowths?”

“I do not care.”

“Meow-ntain! And what do you call a Miltank during an earthquake?”

“I do not care.”

“A milkshake! Oh, oh, oh, what do you call a Ghost Type that tells great jokes?”

“I do not care.”

“Well, obviously not Darcy, that’s for sure! I’m just kidding, just kidding! You call it dead funny! What… hmmm… let me think of another one…”

“How about ‘What do you call someone who does not know how to be quiet’?”

“Heh, you won’t get me like that, I know what you are trying to do!”

“I am not doing that. I swear.”

“You swear?”

“I swear.”

“Oh, okay, then tell me! I don’t know!”

“Celebi.”

“You… meany! You swore!”

“Did I?”

“Of course you did! Ugh, you are horrible, did anyone ever tell you that? It’s my turn again! What do you call a funny mountain?”

“I still do not care.”

“Hill-arious! What do you call…”

 

Has someone ever been annoyed to death? Darkrai thinks he might become the first one.

 

Celebi groans, laid out on the grass, staring at the night sky. Darkrai is sitting a little away, organizing his bag yet again. There is nothing to be organized, but he wants to seem busy. It does not help, because Celebi talks even without any input.

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she explains to her unwilling audience, “I had nightmares yesterday, and I had nightmares today, and I don’t wanna have any more. Any anymore? Whatever. You get what I mean.”

Tough luck, Darkrai thinks. He does not tell her that. Instead, he shrugs. “Unfortunately, our mortal bodies seem to be quite attached to this strange concept of ‘sleep’, and ‘recuperating its energy’.”

“I mean, I guess…” She continues staring at the sky, and then, in a sudden movement, turns to him. “Wait, our mortal bodies? Are you not a ghost?” She moves her hands around as she speaks. “Like, I don’t mean like the Duskull-you, which I totally accept as the real you, don’t worry. Wait, that sounded confusing. I just meant—”

“I know what you meant,” Darkrai interrupts. Then, he considers. Should he explain…? There is still the danger of her telling someone else too much. He thinks his story might have been good enough to keep her quiet, but the matter of the fact is that he can’t be entirely sure. Celebi, in many ways, is an unforeseen wild card, and a dangerous one at that.

Then again, it is not as if it is a well known fact that ‘Darkrai, ruler over fear and nightmares’ is actually a dark type, despite the fact of his type being literally part of his name. He might just look a little to ghostly for that. And he is also the only non-ghost type he knows who can pass through solid objects. So, even if Celebi were to present this knowledge about him to others, just that fact alone might make them doubt whether she did not just misinterpret things.

 “I am a dark type,” he finally confides. It is not as if that was ever supposed to be a big secret, but sharing it still feels like laying himself bare, at least to a degree.

“That’s cool!” Celebi exclaims, “I haven’t met any dark types yet who didn’t try to kill me!”

Darkrai stares at her. “Should I feel honoured?”

She acts as if she is thinking and then nods, the movement a little lessened by the fact that she is still lying down. “Yep! You should!” Turning her head so that he can see her gigantic grin, she adds, “Congratulations, I’ll try to find you an appropriate price for your outstanding achievement!” And she laughs.

“Do not.”

She laughs again, much louder this this time. Then, she lets herself fall back on the grass. “Thanks, Darcy,” she says. “I feel much better now.”

That was not his intention, but whatever, he will take it. Making her feel better while she is awake before making her feel worse while she is asleep. He is so very good at betraying others, he does not even have to actively try.

 

They reach the ocean before noon of their third day travelling together. It is a calm day, the type that Darkrai very much enjoys. Although the sun does not quite managed to peek through the blanket of clouds covering the sky, it is still discernible as a round, lighter part in the sky. The clouds surrounding it are coloured in many tones of grey. Beneath them, the ocean’s waves break against a rocky beach. The noise they make is calming in a way Darkrai does not want to admit he missed in the future. To his right, he can make out the shape of the Giant Volcano, situated on this island. However, the low clouds make it a hazy sight, round out its sharp edges and take away the dangerous-seeming appearance it normally sports.

Really, Darkrai understands why this island became a solace for him. It is much, much nicer than others give it credit for.

“So… What now?” Celebi asks.

Darkrai turns to look at her and crosses his arms. “What do you mean, what now?”

“Well, how are we gonna get across? You said that ocean thing is too big to cross it on our own.”

“Yes,” Darkrai answers, feeling annoyance rise at the doubt clear in her voice, “And I am still correct in that.”

“Okay, so then what?” She flies up to his face, much too close. “How do you plan to get us across? You had enough time to think about it.”

“I would have had enough time if someone had not incessantly insisted on annoying me every waking hour and woken me with her screams the rest of the time.” The answer has slipped out before he can even think about it, and the damage it does is immediate.

Celebi flutters a little away – she probably does not even notice it herself – and her gaze grows clouded. Troubled?

“It’s not my fault you interpret everything I do as designed to annoy you!” she defends herself.

Darkrai scoffs. “Oh yes, shift the blame. You could have tried to think of a way to get us across as well.”

“I was! But you won’t give me your stupid badge, even though we both know that it could’ve spared us all these days of travelling!”

“Nothing proves that it can do so!” he objects, “Besides, if you had not insisted on running after every new interest of yours, we would have reached the ocean days ago!” Why is he getting so worked up over this all, anyways?! It is not as if he considers Celebi actually close to him, and her insistence on the badge being a wish-fulfilling tool is just the folly of someone from the future. So what does he need to defend himself for?

“And then what?!” she shouts, “We’re stuck on your stupid island anyways, doesn’t matter which day!”

Darkrai narrows his eye. Sure, there is no boat, but they are not stuck. Just… indisposed.

He is just about to answer when Celebi visibly deflates. “Sorry. I didn’t really mean all that.” She approaches again. Darkrai stands his ground, and hopes that she is not one who hugs to make up for an argument.

“We’ll figure something out. And… And for what it’s worth, I don’t annoy you on purpose.” She stares at him, unblinking, a slight frown on her face. “I guess it’s just how I’m around those I like? But I’m sorry if it got too much. I’ve been told that… happens sometimes.”

Darkrai turns to look at the ocean, caught off guard by how easily she apologizes, and by how earnest she seems in doing it.

“Let us sit down for a while,” he finally proposes, instead of accepting her words. “And think on how to continue.”

“Together?”

Darkrai nods, grimacing.

“Makes sense!” Celebi agrees. And so, they sit down.

 

“So maybe we get some fish Pokémon, and we bind them to our feet—”

“Do you even believe that would work yourself?”

Celebi groans. “No, obviously not! But what else can we do? We’ve gone through everything, and we’re still stuck here!”

Darkrai grimaces, because, unfortunately, she is right. Any and all ideas they have had for crossing the ocean have proven useless, and loathe as he is to admit, he is getting frustrated. He might have already been when he woke up, because the small argument they had when they arrived at the ocean… should have easily been avoided. But sometimes, he dreams about… things which follow him into wakefulness, and he knows that it influences how he behaves, but how should he stop the emotions which are now there?

He hates this. He hates that he has no plan, that he is stuck, that… Just everything about this entire situation.

A sudden movement by Celebi makes him turn her way. “Wait, what’s that over there?” She points towards the ocean, somewhat behind Darkrai. He turns around to see what she means – could there be a traveller arriving to the island? Maybe a Lapras? But he cannot see anything, and is just about to ask what she saw when—

Celebi tackles him.

“What are you—” Darkrai manages to cry, and just after that, he becomes too busy trying to get her off. “Stop-, don’t-, get off, you vile creature-, stop touching me-, get off—”

Celebi, for once in her life, says nothing. Instead, she continues grabbing at him. Getting her off should be easy, with how tiny and lightweight she is, but that’s exactly the problem – she is much too tiny to be caught.

“You accursed beast, I said get off—"

And then, as suddenly as she jumped him, she gets off again – using his chest as a jumping board. Darkrai breaths out in surprise, or maybe pain.

A triumphant shout emerges from Celebi’s throat. “Got it!”

“I will kill you,” Darkrai threatens, before he even notices just what that all was for. In her hands, she holds the explorer’s badge. His explorer’s badge.

“You thief, give that back!” he roars, trying to make a to grab it, but she meanders out of the way in time. Not dissuaded in the slightest, he tries for it again, and she tries to raise the badge out of reach – but unfortunately for her, she seems to have forgotten that, beneath his illusion, his actual arms are much longer than they appear.

He manages to grab the badge, but as he pulls, Celebi does not let go. Instead, she pulls in the opposite direction. Darkrai narrows his eye and starts pulling harder. She still does not let go, and he is pulling her along, and they become a tangle of limbs, trying to prevail—

And then, there is a click, an awful pulling sensation, and the next thing Darkrai knows, he has smacked right into some grass. It does not really soften the impact, but it also does not make it worse… Which he will count as a win. Unlike the something (or someone) he can feel falling on his back, actually pushing the air out of his lungs. He lacks the energy to do something about it.

Instead, he groans, right into the grass. He feels disgusting absolutely everywhere, his chest hurts, his back hurts, and he really feels like killing Celebi.

Once the weight disappears from his back – with a mumbled “Sorry – didn’t mean to land on you,” which’s truthfulness he doubts – he slowly rolls around, to lie on his back instead. And then, he just stares at the blue sky, not doing anything, for a few moments. Instead, he tries to regain his breath, and to tell his body to stop the horrid crawling sensation he can feel everywhere Celebi touched him, and also in some places he might just imagine that she did.

Wait. Wait, the blue sky? But there were clouds just now. So why—

He hurriedly sits up to look around – and there are trees, and over there, a path, and just a little further in the distance he can see—

“Trash—, Treasure Town!”

“Treasure Town?” Celebi asks, an actual note of elation in her voice.

“Yes!” Darkrai agrees, “Yes, that’s Treasure Town! The badge, you, uh, we activated it!”

Celebi rolls her eyes. “Sure, ‘we’ did. We could’ve done this much earlier, too.”

Darkrai stares at her and feels his anger boil up. She-, she attacked him for no other reason than a hunch and now acts as if she was right in what she did just because of the results it yielded?! He is about to berate her, but then, she looks past him, and her eyes gain a sparkle he can now tell is her amazement.

“This… Oh wow,” she manages.

Darkrai loses his steam. He is still angry, yes, but… But looking around, appreciating an actually moving past is  much nicer, right now.

“Is this what trees look like when it’s not dark?” she asks, which is a stupid question, but an understandable one.

“Obviously,” Darkrai answers, forcing himself to stand up. His body shudders, not because of the effort but because of the phantom touches he can still feel lingering. They are not as bad as they could be, but still… unenjoyable. He gets now why Celebi touched him, and he also understands that she was not trying to touch him overly much, just his bag… But still. He hates this feeling.

He looks around again. It is interesting – last time the badge was used, together with Pearl and Azelf, they ended up much closer to the town. Is every badge’s place of teleportation different? That would make sense, of course. No one would want a Pokémon landing… inside of another Pokémon. If that is even possible.

He shakes his head to dispel these thoughts. Here he is, back in the past (or a past, at least), and he only thinks about the implications of the badge’s teleportation abilities. There are so many other things he could think about. Like… Like how he does not look forward to seeing Chatot or Wigglytuff again, or even the rest of the guild. And yet, strangely enough, he enjoys being here again. He enjoys seeing grass which moves in the light breeze, he enjoys hearing the creaking of the tree’s branches, he enjoys smelling the ocean…

He even enjoys the sun’s light.

“And the differently coloured spots in the grass, are those—”

“What flowers look like, yes.”

“They are so bright.” She sounds so very excited about it.

Darkrai averts his gaze. “They are.” He stares at the flowers. They appear to be a mix of sowbreads, dittany and squills, all in shades of purple and blue. “Judging by the plants, it seems to be autumn right no. So there are much fewer flowers, and less colours, than during other seasons.”

“Autumn? Seasons?”

Not for the first time today, he takes a deep breath. He likes explaining things! But having to explain the most basic concepts… He never had to explain those to Pearl, so why does Celebi know so much less?

Did Grovyle and Pearl maybe study up on the past, just as Dusknoir evidently did? They must have. Pearl does have the habit of not asking questions she thinks too ignorant, but even with her amnesia, there were so many concepts she was not surprised by. As if, at one point, she had known about them. So then why does Celebi—

Oh. Suddenly, Darkrai understands. Celebi was the one needed to create the path into the past, and her staying in the future ensured that if something went wrong, that way back would still be available.

She was never supposed to leave the future.

He looks at her with a sense of newfound understanding. Not that he truly understands – why would she allow herself to remain in the future, when it must have been clear even before their journey that she would love the past? – but that is just him being… being… selfish. As he always is. Why should he suffer just so that others do not? If that makes him selfish, then so be it.

But Celebi is evidently different. Which he should be thankful for, because if she was only out for her own gain, there would not have been any travellers from the future, and he would have been stuck in the dark future of his own making forever more. Or until he—

(KILLED HIM, KILLED HER)

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Then, he turns to Celebi, as if this breath had been because of her question and nothing else.

“Seasons are a concept for dividing parts of the year,” he starts to explain, and simultaneously starts walking the direction of the town, “Autumn is one of them. Generally, they are characterized by their weather, which plants grow, the temperature, and…”

He continues his explanation as they walk, its topic changing with every new question Celebi asks.

And soon enough, they find themselves on the proper edge of town – namely, at the foot of the guild. This is also when their conversation breaks off. Celebi continues staring around in wonderment, but for now, Darkrai decides to ignore her.

Because… Because he does not know how to proceed.

He does not know which past they are in. If this is a past before he even came to Treasure Town, before he met Pearl… then just waltzing in and accidentally changing things could have catastrophic consequences. Chatot met him for the first time when he asked after Dareios. That, he knows. So if he just goes up to the guild, and Chatot is there, but it is a Chatot of the past who does not yet know him, and now meets him before he is supposed to…

And the same counts for everyone else in Treasure Town! Ugh, how Darkrai wishes he could have illusioned himself as a normal Duskull, and not one who’s eye colour is so very memorable. But his prowess with illusions was not—

No. No, the original partner had that eye colour. He is sure of that.

In any way, he wishes he looked less distinct. A Duskull passing through Treasure Town years before he lives there? That will be forgotten. A Duskull with a blue eye? He could just enter the town in his true form and have the same results.

“We should probably find out in which time we are, currently.” He finally settles on that. As long as they do not know when they are, they can only continue carefully. He turns towards Celebi, speaking up again. “Since you are a Celebi, is there a way for you to do… so…?”

Where is she? He looks to the left, then to the right. Still, no Celebi.

Darn it. Of course she got side-tracked. Again. Which he should have expected, but why does he have to be the ever-careful one? Why is it always on him to keep track of everyone else? Celebi is an adult, she can behave like one!

… At least Darkrai thinks she is. She is older than Grovyle and Pearl, at least, and these two are teenagers at best.

… Which does leave Darkrai as the oldest, obviously, because he always is in any group not consisting of purely Legendaries. And even then, he has the edge on many others. But still! Just because he is the oldest does not mean that he wants to parent them!

Alright. Alright, that is beside the point. Finding Celebi is what he should focus on, right now. So, if he was an annoying Celebi from the future, who can get distracted by a single blade of grass being a light green instead of the brownish-green hue of autumn, where would he go? The forest, maybe. Or into town, because even from here, he can hear the usual noises. Those must be intriguing to her. Maybe down the path to the beach, which can be barely glanced through the trees. But still, one can see it, which must also seem enticing. Or maybe back the way they came, because Darkrai did force her to hurry somewhat.

Blast it! Way too many possibilities—

And then, faintly, he hears two words being spoken. “Pokémon detected!” someone calls.

Immediately, Darkrai turns in the direction of the stairs leading up to the guild and starts climbing them. Just barely, he can make out the top of a head, a head which belongs to a certain idiotic Legendary. He continues to rush upwards.

“Pokémon detected!” Diglett repeats. Celebi yelps. A little late for feeling surprised, is it not? But who is he to question Celebi? He does not want to imagine what goes on in her head.

He reaches the top just when Diglett states, “You need to stay on top of the grate, please! I couldn’t identify you, yet!”, and Loudred, no tact, as usual, shouts, “Get on the GRATE, STRANGER!”

“Don’t!” Darkrai yelps, and then takes some moments to take deep breaths. “Don’t step on it again, you moronic—” He takes another breath. Rushing up stairs… is really no fun.

Celebi turns towards him. “I was just taking a look around!”

“I know,” Darkrai says, or maybe he snarls, “But we don’t know which time we landed in. We cannot change anything.”

Celebi stares at him. Slowly, she blinks. Once. Twice. Then, she stares at him some more.

“I’m a Celebi. Even if we are not, I’m sure I’m gonna figure out how to get us to the right one.”

“Yes, but if, for example, I change when others first met me—”

“HEY, that VOICE…” Loudred’s voice rings through from beneath the ground. Darkrai grimaces. Even with metres of dirt between them, he is still too loud.

“Yeah, it sounds like…” Diglett agrees.

Darkrai considers their words. It certainly sounds like they might be recognizing him. But what if they are just mistaking him?

“DEEPER VOICE!” Loudred shouts, “Step on the GRATE!”

Should he? Or…

He looks at Celebi, and with his eyes, tries to tell her how serious he is. “If this is the wrong time—”

“I’ll jump us away immediately, promise! Step on the grate, now, I wanna see what happens!”

“Well why don’t you do it, then—”

“DEEPER VOICE!”

Ugh. With an eyeroll, Darkrai does as he is asked. There is silence, for a few moments, and then Diglett, in excitement, squeaks, “It’s Duskull! That non-footprint, it’s our Duskull!”

“Wait, do you MEAN—” Loudred starts to shout, but Diglett is no longer there to answer him, because instead, he pops up right next to the grate.

“Duskull! Oh, it really is you!”

“… Hello, Diglett,” Darkrai greets back, hesitantly. It certainly seems like he already met Diglett, and also as if he is already considered part of the guild. Which is good. And judging by Diglett and Loudred’s reaction, he might also not have been here for quite some time. But whether it has been three days or three years for them, only Dialga knows. Probably.

“You’re back! You’re back, and alive!” Diglett excitedly shouts, and he is clearly about to say something else when is interrupted by an even louder shout.

“DUSKULL! IT’S OUR DUSKULL!” Loudred, of course, declares. He must have hurried here the moment Diglett buried himself up. It is almost impressive, how quick he was. Also almost impressive is that after him, what feels like half the guild starts spilling out of the entrance. As if they had all been lying in wait, or just… sprinted up the ladders. To greet Darkrai.

… Which makes no sense. He is a member of the guild, certainly, but for them to hurry to meet him? That makes no sense. And yet, they all talk over each other, none of them able to keep their excitement in. What a cacophonous greeting. Darkrai would have expected nothing else from the disorderly bunch.

“Oh my gosh! Duskull! You’re alright!”

“Hey, hey, I told you all, he wouldn’t just have keeled over—”

“Golly, I was so worried about you, Darcy-, uh, Duskull, sorry, Duskull!”

“It’s so good to see that you are well!”

“Hey, hey, someone needs to tell—”

“I can go and get her—"

“COME ON, we NEED to TELL—”

“Don’t worry, guys, I already heard your ruckus,” someone says. With those words spoken, everyone falls silent. The attempts of hugging Darkrai – all evaded, although it was getting progressively harder – are aborted, and instead, the guild’s members which made their way up here – Diglett, Loudred, Corpish, Sunflora, Bidoof and even Chimecho – turn towards the speaker.

“Although I didn’t quite get what’s…. happening…” Pearl, rubbing one of her eyes, trails off the moment she sees Darcy. He can feel a breath get caught in his throat – because she’s here, and she’s alright, and nothing happened to her, and she must still hate him, and—

“Darcy!” she cries, and the next moment, a small, blue Pokémon has launched herself into the air, and then, she impacts with his chest, and only because of mere instincts does he throw his arms around her and pull her tight to his chest. For a few moments, he can just stare at where she just was, and then, he realizes that, right now, she is here, and they are hugging and—

And it doesn’t even feel bad.

Beneath him, his legs, used instinctively to soften the impact, want to give out. He forces himself to remain upright and just… just hold Pearl tight. He can feel her chest heaving up and down with aborted sobs, or laughs, or probably both. He feels his own heart beat rapidly, not sure what it is supposed to do.

Finally, Pearl tries to wiggle free of his arms, to look at him.

“You’re okay,” she mumbles.

Darkrai finally kneels down and gently places her on the ground, agreeing with her, “I’m okay.”

There is the hint of a smile trying to creep on his face, and that is when he takes notice of what just happened, right in front of half the guild and Celebi.

He throws the guild member’s a deadly glare, and Celebi an even deadlier one. If any of them say just one word…

“I’m really, really glad,” Pearl tells him, not noticing the glares exchanged – although ‘exchanged’ implies that the others also glared at him, which they very much did not do. Instead, they look very… happy? Sappy?

He looks at Pearl again and nods. “I am, too.”

And then, he feels how damp his shoulder is, where Pearl buried her head into it just now.

“Ew,” escapes him, and, “You got tears all over me.”

Pearl laughs.

 

Notes:

It’s the Ides of March! Yay! And I managed to get the chapter out by then! Double yay! Happy Ides of March everyone :D
Stab a local dictator if you and your friends find the time for it ;)

So, yay, new chapter! And not half an eternity after the last one. Originally, I thought I would be finished with this chapter even sooner, since it was technically already 90% written by the time the last chapter was published, but then I started my usual editing journey and just… Was quite surprised by what past-me had written. It was not bad or anything, but multiple things just felt not entirely correct, and so, obviously, my editing became rewriting and yeah. But I’m happy enough with how the chapter turned out.

It is a more lighthearted chapter for once (with SOME internal conflicts happening for Darkrai, but hey, that’s just how he is), which I think was really needed by now. I certainly needed it. There also didn’t happen too much, but I wanted to focus on the Darkrai-Celebi relationship a little. Also, I like trying out new things with my chapters – and for example, this time, that was describing places a bit more than I normally tend to do. So yeah.

Expect the next chapter around the middle/end of April, or beginning of May at its latest – if the gods smile upon me, of course. I’m really excited for the upcoming story beats! Although I will need to figure out some smaller plot points still, since I, once again, deviated from the outline I previously created. Why did I even create that in the first place? No clue.

Anyways! Have a good week, enjoy the Ides of March, have fun :)

Chapter 25: Of those who need to disappear

Summary:

Last Chapter: Darkrai and Celebi, after escaping from the future through a Dimensional Hole Darkrai created, found themselves in the Dark Crater. Moreover, due to the way in which they had escaped, Celebi learnt of Darkrai’s true form, albeit not his name. The two of them then travelled back towards Treasure Town, where, against Darkrai’s worst fears, they were happily welcomed.
Oh yeah also Darkrai said “Fuck”.

Notes:

I got SO MUCH fanart between the last chapter and this one (and was also made aware of some pieces I had previously missed), because people are amazing. Do check them out!
(Also, if I missed someone’s art, please tell me!)

There are three pieces by the magnificent MissOwlit/CandlitNights, steady patron of this fic, depicting various character interactions, which you can find here, https://www.deviantart.com/missowlit/art/Let-Me-Sleep-954239165 here, https://www.deviantart.com/missowlit/art/Perception-954239334 and here https://www.deviantart.com/missowlit/art/Took-You-Long-Enough-958605566

Then, there are two pieces by the great casual—scare/Casual_Scare, one which depicts the “hug scene” and which you can find here, hhttps://www.tumblr.com/casual--scare/712206336388136960/for-a-few-moments-he-can-just-stare-at-where-she
and another piece which is a bit older and which I initially missed, which you can find here, https://www.tumblr.com/casual--scare/687174976573407232/a-veil-of-lies-chapter-1-neferirkarekakai

Then, there’s some wonderful (and funny) art drawn by the amazing calci/tang over on tangsartblog, which you can find here, https://www.tumblr.com/tangsartblog/713739825239539712/a-veil-of-lies-pmdeos-fanfic-by

The wonderful BlueCrowWings/MiaBeastGrimmua drew two pieces, one depiciting the “hug scene”, which you can find here, https://www.deviantart.com/bluecrowwings/art/It-doesn-t-even-feel-bad-954535611
and then a picture depicting the aftermath of said scene, which you can find here, https://www.deviantart.com/bluecrowwings/art/Bonus-Ew-954536714
ghostbreadovni https://www.tumblr.com/ghostbreadovni/711968873028648960/fanart-for-the-fic-a-veil-of-lies-by "cute pals"

Yet another art piece which I missed was drawn by the glorious mercykiwidogg and depicts the best meme-summarization of the end of Chapter 22, which you can find here https://www.deviantart.com/mercykiwidogg/art/Quick-A-Viel-of-Lies-funny-948567653

Finally, there are two pieces by the W-collecting Stefanmar, one depicting a high-stakes situation which you can find here, https://www.deviantart.com/stefanmar/art/Interception-954008062
and one depicting the tiniest onion fairy you could imagine annoying a certain bastard man, which you can find here, https://www.deviantart.com/stefanmar/art/Theoretically-Thieving-Onion-Fairy-958930194

A year. An entire year! He had missed an entire year!

He had let himself be lulled into a false sense of security, once he had noticed that it was autumn in Treasure Town – just as it had been when he was forced into the future. And, of course, he had worried about having landed in the wrong time quite a lot, but to have his fears realized in such a nettlesome way… Well. He is not pleased, to be entirely honest.

At least he did not end up a year before he was abducted, he tells himself. Things could be worse. And technically, he has still lived a few more years than he should have. While he does not quite recall when he was initially thrown into the past there had already been around five years he spent in Treasure Town before meeting Pearl, and with Pearl, he has shared about half a year. So, even subtracting the one year he now missed, he has still gained quite a lot already.  

“But I’m… I’m happy we didn’t land too far apart,” Pearl states, after just telling him and Celebi how the entire situation with Dusknoir had happened a year ago – at least for the Pokémon of the past. “I don’t think I could’ve managed an entire year of not knowing whether you two are okay. I mean, I know that’s what the rest of the guild went through, and it’s not as if I wanted them to have to go through it instead, but… But the way we got separated…” She does not finish the sentence. She does not have to, because they all remember it all too closely.

“Yeah,” Celebi says, for once seeming the slightest bit downtrodden. She catches herself immediately after, though, standing up on top of her stack of hay. They are currently in the room within the guild which was previously just Pearl and Darkrai’s, but has now become Pearl, Darkrai, Celebi and Grovyle’s room – two more hay beds have been placed inside, and while the room was never spacious, now it is downright claustrophobic. Darkrai is just lucky that he does not dislike tight spaces overly much – although just the thought of having to sleep so very close to so many others already fills his mouth with a bitter taste. Well. Sleep is still some time away, and for now, the sky is not even slightly orange, so he will just deal with it when the time for it has come.

Celebi, at least, seems to be enjoying the rooming situation immensely, at least if the way she had kept running her hand over the blanket put on top of the hay, and the hay coming out on its sides, was any indication. With newfound bravado, she then abuses her bed as a rostra and chirps, “But hey, just two weeks apart!” She motions with her hands to act out what she is saying, “If not Primal Dialga, then at least someone else in the time department must like us!”

Darkrai says nothing to that, because ‘someone else’ in the ‘time department’ does definitely not like Darkrai, and that dislike is most definitely going to turn into something even worse, soon enough. Just why did he ever think Temporal Tower would make a good target? There are so many other possibilities which would not end in either Dialga hating him forevermore, or Primal Dialga just… just…

But it’s too late now to change these things, so Darkrai can only hope that Dialga won’t even notice that it was a certain dark type who might just have sabotaged his tower in the first place.

“True!” Pearl easily agrees, a small smile reaching up to her eyes, “And we’ve already got one Time Gear, which I’d also count as a win!” Then, she hangs her head. “But Emerald wanted to search out Uxie and his siblings immediately, which I really didn’t think was the best path forward, since, uh, well, their last time meeting wasn’t that great…”

“He tried to kill them,” Darkrai explains as he notices Celebi’s questioning glance. Her eyes widen comically.

“He what?!”

Pearl grimaces. “Yeah. I mean, I get that he got desperate, especially after we got separated, but… I thought that maybe just walking up to them with Grovyle in tow wouldn’t be very smart. And I also figured that, if you had managed to escape the future as well, you’d make your way to Treasure Town.”

“And you were correct,” Darkrai acknowledges.

Pearl grins. “Yeah!” Then, she sighs heavily. “I don’t remember, obviously, but has Emerald always been that stubborn?” She looks towards Celebi.

The little Legendary giggles. “It’s always been unstoppable push against immovable object with you two! I’m actually kinda surprised you managed to make him stay in Treasure Town for three whole days. Arguing him down is pretty much impossible – although you’ve always been the best at it.”

Pearl makes a strange mien at that. “Yeah, uh, let’s just call it me having a good argument.”

“I feel as if we are not being given the entire story here,” Darkrai says, because whatever trick Pearl managed to come up with to make Grovyle put her decision first, he would really like to know of.

This time, Pearl noticeably grimaces, although Darkrai can see the hint of a suppressed grin beneath it.

“Look, it’s not as if I’m proud – but also, Emerald was behaving like a gigantic ass—”

“Language!”

“A gargantuan nimrod, there, better?”

Darkrai blinks. Since when has she even known these words?

“Anyways, he decided to just ignore what I was saying and move out, thinking that I’d just have to follow, and so I might have panicked, grabbed Sunflora’s diary, and hit him over the head with it. Knocked him out cold.”

“What?!”

It is, embarrassingly, not Celebi who shouts in disbelief. No, it is Darkrai. Still, is his surprise so strange?

Pearl laughs. “Yeah. I still can’t quite believe it, but I guess he just wasn’t expecting it?”

Darkrai stares at her. He stares at her some more. How did she even manage to get close enough for that?

“He wasn’t out for long, don’t worry. And I know you didn’t, Darcy, I meant Celebi,” Pearl adds, before Darkrai can even clarify. Hm. He greatly dislikes Pearl knowing so accurately what he wants to state. She continues, “But I think, he, uh, got my point after that. So, yeah, we decided to wait three days, and then move out again, but now you’re here!” She smiles a happy smile. Darkrai acts as if he does not notice her moving her flipper until its tip just barely touches his own fingers.

“So, yeah. Guess now we need to decide how to continue, right?”

Darkrai nods, and so does Celebi.

“Although maybe,” Celebi adds, “We should wait for Emerald to join us for that?”

“No need to wait,” just now mentioned Grovyle speaks up, entering the room. He looks towards Pearl, first, and nods his head a little. “And yes, I admit, waiting the three days was the right call. You were correct, and now never bring this up again, please.”

Pearl grins. “We’ll see about that. Anyways, what did the Kecleon brothers say?”

“That they should be able to get two more bedrolls by the day after tomorrow.”

“Great!” answers Pearl, watching Grovyle as he moves towards Celebi, who embraces him in a tight hug.

Speaking over her shoulder, he says, “I still don’t get why your guild doesn’t supply them in the first place.”

“Exploitation,” Darkrai mumbles.

Grovyle continues, either ignoring or not even hearing Darkrai, “And I still don’t agree on us needing them.”

“Do you really want to get sick because you slept on the cold ground?” Pearl asks, and her tone of voice implies that she has had this argument before.

Grovyle seems, at first, as if he wants to object, but then just sighs and instead tightens his hug with Celebi. Finally, the two separate, with Grovyle quietly telling her, “I’m glad you’re alive.”

Celebi nods to that, whispering, “Me too,” and then sits down again, patting the space next to her. Grovyle sits down on his own bed, bringing forth a pout on the tiny Legendary’s face.

Then, he speaks up. “But since you two,” and this is the first time he actually looks at Darkrai, “Also made it back, we should really decide on a way forward.” Throwing Darkrai another critical glance, he explains, “Pearl might have already told you, but we already collected the Time Gear in Treeshroud Forest.”

“And wanna know something weird?” Pearl interjects, continuing before anyone can answer the question she did not want answered in the first place, probably. “There wasn’t anyone guarding it! Emerald mentioned it was that way too, when he first collected it.”

Celebi nods, as would be appropriate. Darkrai shrugs instead. “Considering their number, obviously Dialga would not be able to find someone willing to guard each and every one of them.”

“Their number?” Pearl asks, looking curious. “Emerald told me that five should be needed for Temporal Tower, but are there more around?”

Darkrai holds back a scoff and nods instead. “Obviously. This is but one continent of many, yet time must flow everywhere. According to my research—”

He interrupts himself. Would admitting to knowing how many Time Gears exist in total be a good idea? If Grovyle only told Pearl about five being needed, then they might have assumed that just five existed in the first place. And the total amount of Time Gears is far from being common knowledge.

“According to your research?” Grovyle echoes, not allowing Darkrai a moment of respite. As usual, then. Darkrai keeps himself from grimacing. Wonderful.

“Well, maybe research is putting it a little strongly,” he backtracks. “Uxie was simply careless enough to mention their number while I was there.”

“And their number would be…?” Celebi prompts. Darkrai really hates how well the three of them work together to get information out of him.

“Sixty,” he answers, because there is no use to hiding the knowledge anymore. Before anyone can ask an idiotic follow-up question, he explains, “Dialga likes things to be orderly, and to relate to the common measurements of time. That is why his tower also has twenty-four floors – and before you ask, I also know this because of Uxie. He was talking about the topic with one of his fellow Legendaries, and noticed that I was there a little too late.”

Funnily enough, that is true – he did do his own research after, but this was the first time he got to know about the real number.

Celebi snorts. Grovyle seems sceptical, still. Pearl seems… strange. Downtrodden?

And for once, Darkrai has an idea as to why  – she never really wanted to lay the topic of Darkrai having known the Lake Guardians to rest. But what was he to tell her? That he has only met so many Legendaries because he is one, too? He could just as well admit to only wanting to betray her.

“Sixty, huh?” Grovyle repeats. “Are any of them closer to our current position than the Lake Guardian’s? Pearl and I noticed that time had not restarted in Treeshroud Forest, which is… a bad sign. Most likely, the collapse of Temporal Tower has already begun.”

Darkrai hides a grimace behind a hand lifted to his face. Obviously, it won’t translate well through the illusion, but who knows how well Pearl can read his expressions by now. She is certainly proving herself more perceptive than Darkrai would want her to be, most of the time.

“I do not know the positions of most,” he answers, which is a lie, as usual, but it is true insofar as that he does not know the positions of each and every Gear. “So travelling to the Lake Guardians is still the best avenue to take, I believe. They will most certainly know if there are any better Time Gears to gather, but I do not think that they would show themselves unwilling to give us access to their Gears.”

“Especially if we take you along, correct?” Grovyle asks, his words having just the tiniest bit of bite in them.

At this, Darkrai has to hold back a scoff. “You can go on your own, if you want to distrust me so much. See for yourself what either of the three can actually do, now that there is no doubt in their hearts that you will actually kill—”

“Darcy.” Pearl stares at him disapprovingly. Darkrai looks away, crossing his arms. If Grovyle wants to make insinuations, Darkrai can do so, too. So why is he always the one being called out for it? Why should he always have to hold himself to a higher standard than everyone else?

And then, Grovyle asks the worst question he could, right now. “Your relationship with them goes back quite some time, does it not?”

Darkrai does not look at him, but instead, at Pearl. She stares at him in turn, no emotion on her face. Always the same old topic, it seems. And now, it seems as if Darkrai will have to admit that he kept some more truth from her. Just because she is happy that he is alive, he reminds himself, does not mean that she is happy about everything else about him.

“We did meet in the past,” he settles on, finally. There. That should be enough.

There is an uncomfortable silence after his words, telling him that it was, in fact, not enough. But unfortunately for all three of them, he is not interested in sharing the details of the fraught relationship he had with each of the Lake Guardians over the years.

So instead, he busies himself with looking out of the window, towards a blue sky. It’s a nice colour, he decides. Not the blue which almost shifts into white, not the blue about to shift into the orange of evening. Just a pleasant, solid blue, not harsh on the eyes.

Finally, Pearl breaks the quiet. “So, who should we visit first? Or should we split up?”

“Yes,” says Darkrai, already imagining a travel without Celebi or Grovyle there to annoy him, “No,” says Grovyle at the same time.

Darkrai glares at him. “And why, exactly, not?”

Grovyle scoffs. “Pearl might be happy to see you alive, and you might have gotten Celebi to trust you for some reason, but I have not forgotten what a traitor you are.”

The magma from the Dark Crater, Darkrai feels it crawling through his body, feels it boiling in his chest, lighting up the rest of his body, an all-consuming heat.

How dare Grovyle?

As if he could ever understand Darkrai’s reasons! He is not a traitor.

(Not yet.)

But not in this. Not in the future, not when he did his best to make them survive, not when he revealed himself to Dusknoir to let Celebi get away!

The flames burn higher. He was not a traitor then. And what he plans to do in the future, Grovyle cannot know. Instead, he hates Darkrai for a thing he has not even done, for choosing another avenue to regain his freedom, for letting his words do his work instead of idiotic actions!

And here, Grovyle sits, having been granted forgiveness for the things he actually did, denying Darkrai the same for what he did not. He certainly did not try to kill any of the Lake Guardians to get their Time Gears.

What a hypocrite.

Darkrai has been hated for many things, and most, he was responsible for. Not always on purpose, not always entirely in his control. But he did not betray them! Did Darkrai not help Grovyle to get to the Time Gears multiple times? Did he not free him when Dusknoir had him at his mercy? But no, Grovyle chooses to ignore the times Darkrai helped him (whether he knows about them or not), and instead just treats him with hostility.

A low growl escapes him when he tries to speak, and horrified, he falls quiet again. No one says anything, and Darkrai stares at the window instead of at any of them. He takes a deep breath, and another, and the magma cools.

The fire leaves him, leaving a cold behind he really should not indulge in, but… But Grovyle deserves this. Darkrai arrived here just today. Could Grovyle not have waited at least a day until he continued to openly show his hate? So why should Darkrai always hold back? What was burning mere moments ago now feels like ice spreading from the tips of his fingers back to his chest, from his chest to his head, through his entire body.

He stares Grovyle right in the eyes, and he speaks, “And I have not forgotten that you are a murderer, only foiled by happenstance, not morality. So what high ground do you believe to have over me?”

Grovyle’s eyes widen, then narrow. “I did what I had to!” he defends himself, putting his right hand over his heart, gesturing in a wide circle with the other. “The dark future can’t be allowed to happen!”

“You would have killed the lake guardians for it!” Darkrai roars, the fire, thought extinguished, back in a mere moment. He might have stood up, because he also finds himself upright, towering over Grovyle, although he does not remember having done so.

“They chose to guard the Gears with their lives!” Grovyle shouts back, springing to his feet, yet not gaining even half of Darkrai’s height, “I gave them the chance to move aside!”

“Dialga personally asked them to watch over their Gears!” he shouts right back, “Do you even understand what would have happened because of their deaths?! They are just as vital for the continued existence of this world as Temporal Tower is!”

“They can’t be!” Grovyle shouts, or maybe, he says, but the previous conviction in his voice starts to make way for insecurity.

“You would have killed them!” Darkrai can only repeat himself, and his breathing is getting heavier, much heavier than he wants it to be. But he won’t back down, because—

Because—

Why? All the energy he had disappears in the blink of an eye. There is no reason for him to be concerned about either of the lake guardians. In fact, it was Darkrai’s plan to sabotage Temporal Tower which, in the future, must have cost them their lives. Which does not make Darkrai a murderer, of course, but…

He looks away again.

“I do not care for this petty argument. Let’s just travel together,” he tells them, defeated. He sits down again, although he would much rather just leave. In fact, he would prefer if Grovyle had not made it back to this time in the first place. But he has never been loved by either fate or luck, whoever is responsible for him, and as such, of course his wishes would never be granted.

Grovyle, who seemed as if he wanted to say something else, finally looks away. “Alright,” he agrees, not longer sounding very angry. “Who would you recommend we visit first?”

“Why ask for my input if you do not even want it? I can recognize handouts when I see them, and I do not need them.”

“I want your input,” Pearl says, in a calming voice someone would use to break up an argument between two young children. Darkrai glares at her. “You know the Lake Guardians the best.”

“I do,” he agrees, because what does it matter, anyways? Even the rest of the guild had that figured out for a while, now. He looks away, thinking.

Not Mesprit, obviously. He is in no mood to argue with her, and that would be unavoidable. And she might also tell the other three too much about him ‘on accident’, give too many hints to put his real identity together. And with the knowledge Celebi unfortunately gained, that would be much too unsafe.

Azelf, perhaps, but somehow, that thought… leaves a strange aftertaste in his mouth. Azelf can certainly deal with Grovyle, of course, and he would also not just tell anyone of Darkrai’s secrets, but… for some reason, Darkrai just does not want Azelf to have to face Grovyle again.

So, Uxie? It would make the most sense. He has respected Darkrai’s secrets so far – mostly, his siblings being, of course, an exception. But they are also his siblings. Moreover, he won’t accidentally say too much. He lives the furthest away from Treasure Town, unfortunately, but if Grovyle decided to attack him, he would also have the easiest way to defend himself just by opening his eyes. Mesprit’ and Azelf’s powers work a little more subtly.

“Uxie,” he tells them. Pearl nods, understanding in her eyes. Grovyle looks uncomfortable, which suits Darkrai. He deserves to be.

“Uxie? Oh, you actually managed to meet Uxie? How was he?” asks Celebi. As Pearl and Grovyle start to answer her questions, Darkrai uses the chance to pick up one of the scrolls lying next to his bed – unmoved since he disappeared into the future – and start reading it. If his eyes skim over the letters without understanding a single word, that does not matter, because at least the others leave him alone until dinner.

 

“Darcy?”

He lunges to attack, and barely manages to stop himself before he hits Pearl right in the face.

“You-, you-, I-,” he stammers, just staring at her widened eyes. Slowly, hesitantly, he pulls his hand back to his side, instead of holding it almost against her head. She… She must have touched him, when waking him. He is not violent when he wakes, at least not… at least when there is no touch. But even then… Even then, it does not tend to happen very often, because normally, he does not dream of physical fights. His nightmares honed in on the fact that he is more scared of words, and of running, and of a creepingly slow end.

Pearl never woke him with touch, until now.

“Don’t,” he starts, “Don’t wake me like this. Please,” he adds, because he does not want to hit her, just because she was nice enough to wake him at the worst part of his dream.

“Sorry,” she whispers, “I didn’t mean to startle you so much.”

Darkrai does not answer, because ‘But you did’ is the truth he does not want to burden her with, and ‘It’s alright’ is a lie they both could see through. He can barely suppress the shaking of the hand he almost hit her with.

Instead, he looks around. The light coming from the window hints at the time being early morning, before the sun starts its ascend, and therefore before Darkrai would naturally wake. It will be a cloudy day, today, he can already tell. Close to the window lie both Celebi and Grovyle, apparently still asleep, and although each was given a separate bed, and although Darkrai clearly remembers both lying down on their own, Celebi is now right next to Grovyle, and the grass type has put one of his arms around her, as if in the middle of a hug. If it helps to fend off the worst of their nightmares even a little bit, Darkrai does not begrudge them for it. Not even Grovyle.

When Darkrai looks back at Pearl, feeling calm enough to do so again, he sees that she followed his gaze. Finally, she looks back at him, and in a whisper with a strange undertone, she asks, “Can we talk?”

Darkrai stares at her critically. It is not as if it would be a bad time for it – he certainly won’t fall asleep again at this time – but it is a strange thing to ask.

“About what?” he whispers back, and a quick glance tells him that Grovyle and Celebi still sleep. Celebi is frowning, and Grovyle’s eyelids flutter for but a moment, as if reacting to something no one but him can see.

Pearl simply motions towards the doorframe. Darkrai nods, agreeing on what she is proposing – he does not think it above either Celebi or Grovyle to pretend to be asleep to listen in on whatever conversation Pearl wants to have. Together, they make their way outside, past the other guild member’s rooms, past the door to Wigglytuff’s living space, past Croagunk’s empty shop, until they arrive in the empty dining hall. It’s a good choice, Darkrai thinks approvingly, because at this time of the day no one will accidentally stumble in on them and interrupt the privacy their own room currently lacks.

There is a wicker basket placed on the table, filled to the brim with various berries. Maybe leftovers from yesterday, or early preparation for breakfast, or even a snack left out for those who feel the yearning for food in the middle of the night. Probably the last option, now that he thinks about it, because the already-prepared baskets for breakfast have been placed on the stone slab used as storage space at the end of the room.

Pearl seats herself at the end of the table closest to the room’s entrance, and Darkrai follows suit, sitting down opposite her. For some reason, he needs that physical separation right now, and besides, talking face to face is much nicer than shoulder to shoulder.

He looks at her questioningly, repeating his previous question nonverbally.

“I’m… I’m really sorry for this,” she starts, careful to keep her voice quiet even here. “But I need to ask.”

Darkrai stares at her, and this time, he speaks up. “Ask what?”

Pearl takes a deep breath, obviously steeling herself. And then, she speaks, words which are like a blade, separating his emotions and thoughts from him entirely, until he can only stare at her, unblinking, unresponsive, uncertain.

“Are you the one behind the nightmares, Darcy?”

There is nothing, for a moment. And then, it feels as if something falls through his chest, landsin his stomach, and it carries an intense cold with it, so cold that it burns. His body takes a shuddering breath without his input, because he failed to do so before. And he stares at her.

“Just… Just nod, or shake your head, if you don’t want to talk,” Pearl continues, as if he could actually move, right now, as if he could do anything but stare, unmoving. “But please, just… Just give me the truth. Just this once.”

He continues staring at the one who called him ‘friend’, once upon a time. He tries shaking his head, but it doesn’t work, and he tries nodding, but it doesn’t work, and he tries speaking, but he only manages to breath out the tiniest noise, and then, he falls silent again. The cold burn within him continues reaching outwards, tries grabbing his heart, and it feels as if his heart wants to do nothing more than to just stop.

“Because… everything adds up, doesn’t it?” she asks, sounding very, very helpless. It’s a type of voice Darkrai has heard before – of wanting something to not be the truth, but knowing that it is. He wants to ask her to clarify, to buy himself more time, to show her that, no, she must be wrong, but when he tries to speak, a single croak escapes him and nothing more.

“Please, just… Just tell me the truth. Please.”

Her eyes are pleading, and as Darkrai tries to speak again, four words escape him. But they are the wrong words, not the words he intended, not the words he wanted, not the words he needed, and yet, he says, “I don’t want to.”

It can be interpreted as an answer to him just not wanting to talk, right? Right? She won’t-, she won’t get the true meaning, right? She won’t start truly hating him now… right?

“But you… you’ve been behind it? All this time?”

This time, he manages to move his head, to finally look away. Instead of at Pearl, he stares at the table, its irregular planks, forced into shape not by skill but by will alone. Without conscious input, he folds his hands over each other and begins moving them, never fully letting go. He tries to speak, again, but all that leaves his mouth is a repeat of the words he just said.

“I don’t want to,” he admits, as if that will actually matter. As if it will actually change anything.

Pearl sounds broken as she utters a single word. “Why?”

But what is there to explain? What use is it? It’s not as if… As if Darkrai does not know the result of this conversation already. Just when he… just when he had thought…

He continues looking off to the side, not able to stomach her gaze. He can already imagine the rage growing in Pearl’s eyes, the disgust, the hate. He does not have to look to know that she will flinch away the moment he looks her in the eyes, because he knows that all those emotions will just be clouds over the true emotion she feels: Fear. They all are so closely intertwined, and yet each and every one of them will be how he will always be regarded. Pearl won’t be an exception, and yet still, Darkrai cannot make himself face whichever of these emotions she is showing this very moment. He does not have to imagine, just to remember.

“What does it matter?” he finally croaks out, his voice only barely following his commands, his words not planned at all but just escaping. Finally, his hands become calm, but only because he needs to let go to instead pull his arms tightly around himself. Because… because if… because when an attack comes, at least he won’t get hurt too much. At least he won’t leave himself open too much.

“Because… because you’re mean,” says Pearl, “And you’re a grouch. And… and you value your own life above that of everyone else. You lie almost constantly, and you keep more secrets than should be possible. You like to threaten others, and sometimes I can see that… that you have to hold yourself back from becoming too violent. There’s this… this threat of something worse breaking through, sometimes, and it almost seems as if you wouldn’t regret it, if it did.”

Darkrai cannot help it – finally, he looks at her. This is… this is how she sees him? This is… He’d almost laugh, if he had it in himself, right now. Here he is, thinking he has won Pearl’s trust, thinking she considers him close to her, and… And yet, he just lies to himself.

Surprisingly, there is no malice in Pearl’s gaze, which, in its own way, makes it even worse. This might be one of the cruellest ways he’s ever been told to get lost. He knows that he is the one who planned—, plans to betray her, but… but she’s not bad at it, either. He really would like to laugh, right now. Because Darkrai never even considered that Pearl might want to get rid of him not with anger and shouting, but with calm and collected words, pointing out each of his failures.

“But,” Pearl continues, “But you… you wouldn’t just torment those around you for no reason. You wouldn’t,” she repeats, the conviction in her voice growing stronger with each word. Darkrai feels his eye widen. “Because you’re also trying to be better than all of these other things. And… And there are some Pokémon you treasure almost as much as yourself, for who you’d run straight into a suspected almost-murderer and let yourself almost be killled in their stead.” She sniffs. “Almost. And… And you act annoyed around the other guild members, but you also don’t insult them like you do with those you really dislike, and… and I want to believe that you really did try to free me in the future, that you only went along with Dusknoir because open disobedience would’ve gotten you thrown into the jail as well, where you’d be just as helpless as the rest of us, and I want to believe that… that you don’t want to see me dead. And that’s…” She stares him right in the eye, and he can see tears springing from her eyes, tears she ignores, which are just a result of too many emotions in a too tiny body, “And so the ‘why’ matters. Because you’re not evil, and you’re not a villain, and you must have a reason.”

Darkrai continues staring at her, until the utter conviction in her eyes becomes too much for him to bear, and he looks down at the table again.

“I don’t,” he whispers, when the silence becomes deafening, “You’re wrong. I’m just… I am just like this.”

“Can you stop it?” she asks, and it sounds so matter-of-factly that Darkrai does not even think before he answers.

“Does it matter?”

And then, he hears a sob escape Pearl. He cannot help it, he looks at her. She seems… she seems…

Broken.

This isn’t how he wants it. His… his revenge isn’t supposed to be in a tiny mess hall, it isn’t supposed to happen because of a curse he can’t control, it isn’t supposed to have her crying while he looks on, feeling so very, very empty. The burning feeling from before is gone, and instead, he feels tired, feels a pain behind his eye that he knows won’t go away even if he presses his hand against it.

“My ability.” The words escape him before thoughts form, “It’s my ability,” he tells her, and then, he looks away from the crying little once-human before him, and instead he burrows his head in his hands.

“…Your ability?” There is something in her voice, and Darkrai does not want to call it hope, because she is supposed to hate him, for the things he chooses to do, and for the things he cannot control.

He breaths into his hands, hating the warm and damp air it creates, but he does not change his position. He does not dare look at her. He does not dare look at anything.

“It’s… It’s…” He stammers, and he takes yet another warm, damp, deep breath, and he tries to talk, because… because…

“Bad Dreams. That is what it’s… what it’s been called. Those around me, they… they…” He breaks off. What use is explaining? Either she will assume correctly, or she won’t, but it won’t matter, because she will hate him for it, anyways.

And a voice that is normally so very deep down, hidden behind denial and empty self-assurances now tells him loud and clear that he deserves to be hated for it. He’s… He’s… He’s a monster. He has always been one, and the curse of his ability is just the most outwardly sign of it. But everything he has done, everything he does, intentionally or not, it proves that again, and again, and again.

“They have nightmares,” Pearl finishes the sentence. “And you… you can’t stop it?”

He does not answer. Because maybe… maybe he could. Maybe he really is just a failure, and all these decades, all these millennia, there might have been a way for him to free, if not himself, then at least those around him, from this curse. Maybe there is a way for him to control the reach of his bad dreams, to keep them from ever turning into endless nightmares.

Well. There is a way, of course. Denying that he knows about it will not help him. There are two ways, in fact, to stop himself from afflicting those around him. Utter solitude is one. The other is death. But he would rather see those around him suffer night after night, sleep after sleep, instead of choosing to do what is right.

And that is the truth. That will always be the truth. Others will always exist. He will always exist. And he will choose to be selfish again and again, because he can’t go back—

He just can’t go back to—

“But…” Pearl starts, interpreting his silence in a way he does not understand. “But you have nightmares as well. I know you have them. You can’t fake having bad dreams while asleep. But then why—”

“Because my ability is faulty!” he shouts, and his voice echoes around them, and he realizes that he finally moved his hands away from his face, just to shout at her, just to probably wake everyone else. But he can’t change it. He can’t! His entire existence is built on the fact that he can’t change a damn thing! And so, instead of calming himself, Darkrai continues, just a little bit quieter than before, “Because I don’t control it! Those around me will have bad dreams, and that’s what it does, and what it will always do, and I’m apparently included in that!”

Pearl looks at him with wide eyes, the residue of tears still in her eyes, although she has stopped actively crying by now. “Oh,” she breaths, and then, “Oh,” she repeats. There is something like understanding dawning in her eyes.

Darkrai says nothing, because what else is there to say? She should have never even gotten to know anything of what he just said. No, now it is time to steel his nerves for her anger. Because Pearl isn’t one to take an attack on those closest to her lying down, and what else would his nightmares be?

… He could just run away right now. The walls of the room won’t be able to keep him trapped, and even if Pearl jumped through the window to follow him, she would never be able to be quick enough to catch up. Grovyle might be, but he is still asleep multiple rooms away.

Sure, all the work he did previously would be for naught, and he could have just stayed at the Dark Crater instead of coming here, but things change, and plans need to be adapted to that.

“You’ve been treated badly because of your ability, haven’t you?”

“What?” He stares at Pearl in disbelief. Where is the anger, the rage? Why… Why is she looking at him like… like…

“You… Well, there shouldn’t be any need to lie about it. Everyone knows that some abilities are just… out of the control of the one who has them.” She moves her arms around as she speaks, as her words meander, “And giving everyone nightmares sucks, really much, but it’s not as if we can’t deal with it.” She looks straight at him again, her hands placed on the table, no movement safe for her face. “And in the past, you told others about it, right? But instead of understanding, they would get angry. Blame you, think you did it on purpose.”

“Stop,” he tells her, dreading the truth she just uncovered.

She does not stop. “And so, you started hiding it, and feared that others would find out. Because—”

“Stop,” he repeats more forcefully.

She continues. “Because their reactions would be really, really bad. Like… they’d hate you. Maybe they’d even… even get violent. Right? And—”

“Stop!” he shouts.

Pearl leans forward. “You’d be chased off. And made to feel as if you don’t deserve a place to live, as if you don’t deserve to share space with anyone, as long as they know about your ability. And so you’d start lying about it, because they can’t hate you for what they don’t know.”

“Stop,” he pleads, he whispers, “Pearl, stop, please. Please.”

It hurts. What she says, it hurts physically, as if each word is an assurance that he was right to always hide it, as if he truly is cursed, and as if the path he chose is…

Is…

“I’m sorry,” Pearl tells him, and Darkrai already knows what her next words will be, because right now is when she will tell him that she can’t associate with him while he hurts those around him consistently. Right now is when she tells him that, even if it is his ability, whether he does it on purpose or not, it does not give him immunity from consequences. Now is when she chooses the many over the few, and Darkrai will always be the few.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that. But you know what? Fuck them!”

“Language,” he chastises, before he can even think, because whatever his brain is doing right now, properly working it is not.

“Sorry,” she says, “But I need you to understand that I mean it. Screw them. Curse them. Whatever! You didn’t deserve any of that.”

He blinks, slowly. And then, a second time.

“You didn’t,” Pearl repeats, as if that could make her words come true. And she sighs. “And I… I wish you’d told anyone, at all, about your ability, and not kept quiet, but… I get it. I really, truly do.”

And suddenly, there’s a noise like someone knocking on wood. With a flinch, Darkrai turns towards it. Pearl does, as well.

Flying next to the entrance of the dining hall is Celebi, a sheepish mien on her face. “Sorry. I… I really didn’t mean to listen in, and I didn’t! For the most part. I just woke when you woke Darcy,” she says, looking at Pearl, “But I stayed in your room! Until Darcy, uh… shouted. And I just wanted to see that you two are okay.”

She takes a deep breath after her rambling. Darkrai feels very, very empty, his emotions locked so far away, he cannot even bring himself to feel angry or annoyed with Celebi. Pearl knowing about his ability is… bad. But Celebi knowing as well? He should worry about it. Instead, he feels empty and tired.

“But I just wanted to say that…” She turns towards Darkrai. “That it’s alright, Darcy. I mean, I’ve only had nightmares for four days, now, and I don’t know how others deal with it, but… But what your ability does isn’t your fault. And that others made you feel that way really, really sucks.”

“Exactly,” Pearl agrees easily, as if she truly thought it the truth and wasn’t just… was not just playing a cruel, cruel prank on Darkrai. Because that is what this must be, right? And Celebi is in on it, because obviously, she is. Because both Pearl and Celebi seems so nice and considerate, as if they truly felt compassion for him, but that cannot be true. Because his ability is a horrid curse, and they can’t be angry at those who recognized that and reacted accordingly.

“No,” he tells them, and as they stare at him in surprise, he continues, “No, you are wrong.”

Because… Because he relishes in his ability. Because he enjoys causing others to have nightmares. Was that not his first thought when he realized that all guild members started having them? Did he not want them to suffer like this?

Does he not want it to continue? The only thing he dislikes about the ability is its uncontrollability, because he has never had a pleasant night in his life, because endless nightmares will always have a chance of happening. And it is not as if he would regret any of the guild members being caught in one, but it would just be an… annoyance to deal with, a hitch in his plans.

Those who would call him monster or a blight for his ability are right. He is! He wants to be! He has accepted that he will always have to be the villain of their stories, and he won’t go back to being a-, a-, a meek little thing, hiding himself far away from everyone else, just so that they can have happy, carefree lives! He deserves to be free! He does!

And… And Pearl thinking she understands, what does she even know?! If it was just nightmares, maybe the reactions would be unjustified! If he was not doing it on purpose, perhaps she would be correct! But they aren’t, and he must be, and Pearl is wrong. And she must know that, too.

She must! Because no one just accepts his ability. Not the Legendaries who don’t want to see him as family, not the few Pokémon who pretended to be his friends, not Cresselia who dared to call herself his sister. Each and every time, his ability would rear its ugly head, and he would allow it to, and he’d hate himself until he chose to embrace it, and yet still, he hates it!

No amount of self-assuring claims will change that he knows that his ability is a curse. No amount of denial will change that he knows that he is a MONSTER!

“Darcy,” Pearl calls out to him, “Calm down!” She is leaning over the table, and she has grabbed one of his hands, and next to her is Celebi – when did she even get there? – looking at him with widened eyes. Instead of facing her, he looks down at the hand Pearl is still touching, a cramped-up hand, a hand he forces to relax and which throbs afterwards, and when Pearl lets go of it, and Darkrai can pull it back to his side, he can see three new scratches in the uneven wooden planks.

“You aren’t,” Pearl tells him, “You aren’t a monster, Darcy. You’re my friend.”

He looks at her, into her honest eyes, and he almost wants to believe it. Even after all his lies and betrayals, she still wants to stick to his side? What folly. But… perfect for his future plans.

Looking off to the side yet again, he tries to make a decision. So… Pearl knows about his ability now. So does Celebi. But for some reason, they have decided not to hate him for it. Which he should… definitely make use of.

“Sorry if I ask something you answered before,” Celebi suddenly speaks up, and she, at least, has the decency to look sheepish about it, “But you can’t stop it, right?”

For a moment, Darkrai thinks of not answering. He could just… stand up. Leave the room. Surely, if they want to accept his ability as part of him, him not wanting to talk about it would make sense. And yet…

“No,” he tells her, careful to make his voice sound as even as possible, yet still, it shakes, “I can’t.”

Celebi sighs deeply. “That sucks. But guess there’s not much to be done about it, huh?”

Darkrai stares at her, because… because…

She does not try to tell him that, no, there must be a way to stop his ability. That he must not be trying hard enough. That he must not care for those around him. That he must want them to suffer. She does not attempt to find a way, when Darkrai had already tried each and every possible avenue.

No, she just… accepts what he said.

“If you’d be willing to tell,” Pearl, carefully, asks this time, “How does it work, exactly? Like, are there factors like… vicinity? I guess there must be.”

Darkrai stares at her, as well.

And slowly, carefully, he answers. “It relies on vicinity, yes. The closer… someone is to me…” He looks away, then, not prepared for however Pearl will look at him the moment she realizes that she is closest to him, most of the time. “Well. And there is… the time around the new moon…”

He looks towards the windows, through which gentle daylight finds its way inside this room. It has not become cloudy at all. Instead, the early morning sky is a light blue, uninterrupted by any obstacles. The air is clear.

The sound of something falling down pulls him from his thoughts. He turns, only to see Celebi, flying over the table, having picked more berries than she could possibly hold in her two hands, taken from the basket still on the table. One of the berries evidently fell down, and instead of Celebi picking it up, Pearl reaches for it. Celebi lets her, even as Pearl pulls the lone Cheri berry close to her and takes a bite out of it. Celebi flies back to her place next to Pearl, and then places the assortment of berries before herself.

Darkrai is not surprised by this at all – yesterday, already, Celebi had started sampling all the food of the past, and it seems as if she is intent on continuing her culinary journey. And he supposes that since Pearl woke him – and inadvertently also Celebi – quite some time has passed. Enough so that even he can feel the first vestiges of hunger. Although he won’t allow himself to eat just yet – most of the time, him eating the right amount relies heavily on habit, and if he breaks that now, he will probably not eat enough, as he always tends to do. Which he, personally, has no issue with, but he has been told that it is unhealthy, and please take care of yourself, Darkrai.

It will be hard enough to get in the proper rhythm again, anyways, after the time in the future, and also the few days of travel to get back to Treasure Town.

“We’ll have to visit the town today,” Pearl says, completely changing the topic. Or maybe not. Maybe she wants him to tell them all about his ability. Breathing in suddenly becomes much harder. “Everyone was really worried about you being stuck in the future, they’ll be happy to see you.”

Darkrai’s airway suddenly opens, and he can breathe properly again. “As if,” he remarks, “They were probably happy to be rid of the resident grouch.”

Pearl shakes her head, not interpreting his words as a joke, as she normally might. “No. They missed you. But if you don’t believe me, that’s even more of a reason to visit the town.”

“Or I could just stay here.”

“Do you think Dareios would accept me explaining that you’re back in town, but didn’t want to visit him?”

Darkrai grimaces. She… might have a point. The ghost has serious attachment issues, because he always makes it feel like a slight against him, personally, when Darkrai does not spend at least a bit of his time visiting the town just staying with him – or at least talking about inane stuff. He might actually have made himself believe that Darkrai is his real cousin, and just be this way around family. It is the only explanation Darkrai can think of why Dareios views him so… positively. 

“Besides,” Pearl continues, “We’ll have to collect everything we need for travelling to Uxie. And then, you’ll have to organize the stuff.” She takes another bite of her berry, completely decimating it. After chewing and swallowing the bite, she adds, “And decide on what bag to take, I guess.”

True, Darkrai thinks, but he does not admit it out loud. Having the old bag is… nice, but he has to admit, he had gotten accustomed to the new one. Both have their advantages and drawbacks. A hard decision to make, really.

Pearl, meanwhile, leans over the table to take another berry out of the bowl. She lifts her flipper, and in it, a Babiri berry lies. Darkrai stares at it. Darn it. If he had known that one was in there, he would have ignored whatever rules he has for times at which he should eat.

Instead of leaning back and enjoying her prize, Pearl places the berry on the table, and then pushes it so that it rolls in… Darkrai’s direction. Quickly, he reaches out to stop it from falling, and then, he looks up at Pearl. She smiles, and proceeds to reach into the basket again. This time, she pulls out a Tamato berry, and this one, she bites into.

Darkrai stares at the berry before him, unsure whether he should eat it now, or save it, to savour later. Or should he give it back? It did not seem as if Pearl mistakenly gave it to him, but…

[Image Description: The image depicts the mess hall of the Wigglytuff Guild. The angle is chosen so that a bit of the corridor outside the mess hall is also shown. Inside the room is a low wooden table, on which a bowl filled with berries is stood. On the right-hand side are two circular windows, through which pale morning light enters the room. Around the table are Celebi, Pearl and Darkrai, although Darkrai is depicted as the Duskull he illusions himself as. Celebi and Pearl are on the side of the table opposite to the window of the room, while Darkrai has his back to the window. Pearl seems to be in the middle of talking, Celebi is reaching out towards the berries, and Darkrai is holding a single berry in his hand and staring at it. Outside of the mess hall, leaning against the wall so that he cannot be seen, stands Grovyle, his eyes closed. Both the room and the corridor are filled with greenery and supporting wooden structures.]

 

“If we are all awake now, anyways, we could also just start our travels early.”

Darkrai violently flinches at the new voice, coming from the doorframe. He can see that both Pearl and Celebi react similarly. A scowl on his face, he turns the direction of the speaker, who happens to be Grovyle.

“Emerald!” Celebi, already over her initial surprise, happily exclaims. Leaving the half of her berries she has not yet eaten lying on the table, she instead takes off to fly towards Grovyle. Once she reaches him, she throws her arms around him, and he reciprocates the hug. Pearl, surprisingly, shows a small frown instead.

“Emerald,” she greets, much calmer, and then, the reason for her frown reveals itself, because she asks, “How long have you been listening in?”

And once again, as has happened much too often today, Darkrai feels a weight fall through his chest, into his stomach, and he feels like throwing up.

Grovyle, at least, has the decency to grimace. Celebi ignores that, and instead pulls him to the table as well, and places him right between Pearl and herself.

“I was woken when Celebi left the bed,” he admits, “Although I did not instantly follow her.”

“But you’ve heard the conversation about…” Pearl throws a gaze in Darkrai’s direction. Darkrai forces himself not to flex his claws, because that would squash the Babiri berry, and he would really like to still eat it.

Grovyle sighs. “Yes. At least enough to make a picture for myself.” He looks directly at Darkrai, then. “And look. I know we don’t get along, because of reasons. But I acknowledge that, this time, I was in the wrong, so I apologize for listening in.”

Darkrai stares at him. “What,” he starts, his voice falling way too much into the dangerous cadence he normally needs to make himself use consciously, “Will that apology change? You… I…” He stumbles over his words, destroying whatever mood his previous words created. “You won’t forget what you heard.”

“I won’t,” Grovyle agrees, “And I have certainly been able to draw new conclusions about you because of it. But I know that it wasn’t my place to listen in, and as much as I dislike you, I regret invading Pearl’s and your privacy.”

Darkrai stares at him some more, and in the end, scoffs. “So your apologies are to be simply accepted?”

Without even a conscious input, he stands up. “Do leave me alone for a while, yes? And do not worry, I won’t plot out loud how to best to betray you and instead help Dusknoir, so there is no need to listen in again.”

He turns around, not waiting for an answer, not looking at any of the others. Instead, he moves out of the dining hall.

Behind him, he can hear movement, followed by Pearl hissing, “No. Leave him alone.”

That is followed by an attempted objection from Grovyle, started with a “But I need—“, although he does not get any further, because Pearl interrupts him with a rather angry sounding, “He needs the time alone right now. Respect that.”

The rest, Darkrai cannot make out. He stops in the hall of the lowest level, unsure on how to proceed. And so, instead, he leans against the space of wall between the side of Croagunk’s shop and a window, and he forces himself to take a deep breath, past the suffocating feeling he still feels in his throat.

Yesterday, a total of one Pokémon in Treasure Town – that being Darkrai himself – had known about his ability. Today, four Pokémon know, of which one is still grappling with his past betrayal, one is an annoyance, and the last decided to hate him even before this revelation.

He sinks down along the wall, places the berry next to himself, and buries his head in his hands. He hates this. He hates this. He hates being forced to reveal parts of himself which should never be seen, hates being forced to do so. He hates that, if he invades the privacy of others, he is always the villain; but if others do the same to him, it’s alright, because he is still the villain.

And now, he will probably be chased away. Because he trusts Pearl to keep quiet about his ability, and to a certain degree, he trusts Celebi to do the same. But Grovyle already disliked him previously. And now he’ll see him as even more of an enemy, and… Well. Expecting Grovyle to tell the rest of town the truth is not unlikely, is it?

Maybe… maybe they won’t believe him. Until a few days ago, they must have still thought of him as a dangerous thief, out to ruin the future. Surely, that fear cannot go away in a day, right? The fear of Darkrai certainly never did. In fact, it would only become greater. Which… it would do, if the truth about his ability came out. Because there is always someone who has heard at least a hint about his abilities’ capacity to put someone to sleep, forever. And then, there will be the voices insisting that being around him is dangerous, and it will grow, until even while they are awake, they will fear his presence, and…

He tries to take a deep breath. Deep breaths in, deep breaths out, and soon enough, he will be calm again. But how should he take deep breaths if the intake of air only comes shuddering, if his body does not want to let go of the little air it got in?

With Uxie’s siblings knowing about who he is, it was… easier. Because they have known him for a long time, and although they know about his… about the things considered ‘crimes’ he did, they also know of the time before. He likes to act as if that time did not exist, and once he has calmed enough, he will once again act that way, but…

But many of those who knew him before would always have an easier time dealing with the current him. And they would also be less likely to… fear him, at least in a way that all the Pokémon who only knew him after could not.

Not that he does not want to be feared! But… but with some situations, it obviously helps not to be. And thus, the Lake Guardian’s having known him for a long, long time… helped. But Grovyle has not known him for a long time. In fact, the amount is so small, it might just be a single blink if measured against the length of Darkrai’s life. And, in a way, the same is true for Pearl. Celebi, too. Everyone in the guild. Everyone in town.

They would not give him the benefit of the doubt. They would not give him the benefit of hoping that he might abandon the path he chose for himself. And so—

“I really feel like I should tell you that I won’t be open for quite some time.”

Darkrai would flinch, but for some reason, he feels as if there is not much energy left in him. And so, he just tiredly looks up, towards Croagunk, who is leaning over the counter of his shop.

“But something makes me guess you aren’t here for that, anyways. Which is kind of a shame, but whatever.” He shrugs and a croaking laugh escapes him.

Darkrai forces himself to stand up, grabbing his stupid berry as he does so. It is not as if he truly needs it, but… he does not want to leave it behind. Standing upright, fighting the vertigo he feels, he answers, “I… Yes. I was just… taking a breather.”

“Makes sense,” Croagunk says, turning away to look at his cauldron. “This thing can really develop a stink, I’ve been told.” He puts his hand inside and starts stirring. “Although next time, the other window would probably be a better place to get away from it.”

“I will… keep that in mind.”

“You do that. Anyways.” Croagunk turns towards him again. He raises his hand, in which he holds a sheer, purplish fabric. “A present.”

Darkrai stares at it.

“Purple Silk,” Croagunk explains. “Good to have with you in a dungeon. Now take it, my arm’s getting tired.”

Carefully, Darkrai reaches out. “I…” He stammers. Thank you, he should probably say. It doesn’t manage to get out in time, and instead, Croagunk speaks, again.

“It’s good to have you around again. And now, I’ll need you to go somewhere else, because I can’t have anyone knowing how to do the set up for my little cauldron. Sorry.”

“That’s alright,” Darkrai says, still not sure how to react. “I… was planning to move to town, anyways.”

“Not staying for breakfast, huh? I get it. Anyways. Have a nice day out. Oh, and if you see a Mandibuzz, tell her that she’s still gotta pay, okay? Consider it repayment if you’re uncomfortable with gifts.” He cackles, and Darkrai takes that as his cue to leave.

 

He ends up on the edge of Sharpedo Bluff, where he sits down and just allows himself to think, for a moment. The only noises around him are the waves breaking deep down, and a wind coming from the direction of the ocean howling through the cliffs. Before now, he had been lucky enough to pass through town before anyone had opened their shop – a few shopkeepers were already there, of course, working actively on preparing for the day, but with a few well-timed sneaking-manoeuvres, Darkrai managed to get through without anyone calling out to him. Dareios he did not see at all, although he knows that the ghost is an early riser. But he consciously passed around the back of his tent to make sure he remains unseen. It is not as if he actively dislikes Dareios, of course, but…

But right now, he still needs a bit more time alone. The interaction with Croagunk was, to put it simply, strange. Not bad, at least it did not leave him feeling… as if he needs to wash himself yet again. But it was strange, and he can’t quite wrap his head around it, and he just needs time to be alone.

And now, he just sits here and stares at the ocean. The sun has finally risen, and although its strength seems weakened during autumn, it still feels pleasant on his back. As long as he does not have it in his eyes, it can be nice enough, he supposes. Its light creates a long shadow of the cliff, which extends far into the ocean, colouring it a much deeper colour than the surroundings. That colour, however, is broken up by the tops of the many waves coming in today, painting the ocean beneath him stripes of blue and white, and further towards the horizon, it seems almost entirely white. The beach is entirely too unpleasant on days like these, because the waves become unpredictable in their reach and where they will break, and the white tops of the ocean are also created with the help of a strong wind, which would just pelt him with sand. But up here, it is pleasant.

He continues staring at the ocean. Further away, he thinks he can make out the shape of a big Pokémon – maybe a Wailmer, Lapras, or even a Dondozo.

It’s strange, Darkrai ponders. He came here to get a chance to just think about everything that happened, but instead, he watches the ocean, and does nothing else. But it is peaceful, and he is starting to notice that… he had desperately needed just a bit of time for himself.

He… does not entirely like being lonely, he thinks. He dislikes too many others surrounding him; he hates feeling suffocated by the presences around him. But he knows how time spent entirely on his own feels, days with no one for company and…

And he can never go back to that. He cannot.

A more quiet world had always seemed like a solution to his conflicting feelings, and yet, right now, just thinking of the silent world of the future makes him uneasy. It was not loud, and not entirely lonely, and yet… wrong. So very, very wrong.

Ah, what is he thinking? What use are these thoughts, right now? Should he not rather worry about his ability suddenly being known? Not entirely, of course, because he… he can still hold unto some secrets, can still hide the worst parts; but more than he had ever wanted to be shared is suddenly common knowledge.

Thinking about this tires him, makes his body become confused, not knowing whether it should freeze over, or if his heart should beat frantically, or whether the lava shall return to his veins. And so, he lays it to rest for now. He also considers lying down on his back, because… well, it feels like a day for it. In the end, he decides against it. His hair is a mess, and though he does not think it could get much worse, he does not want to chance it.

Wait. His hair…

He turns around, towards the hidden entrance to the cave he called home for a few years, ignoring the twinging scars across his back. There is, of course, the chance that someone else had moved in, but if they had not… Then the things he left in there, not important enough to even consider taking to the guild, no emotional attachment to any of them, might just have remained in there. And he has the faintest memory that a comb might have been part of those possessions. Although it might seem strange for Darkrai not to possess a comb, normally, just going through his hair with his hands tends to be enough. But now…

His course of action decided, he moves.

 

About two hours later, he feels truly clean for the first time in weeks. He started with combing his hair, and then realized that the small spring within the cave was a great chance to properly scrub himself down, and, well. He feels good.

Feeling much better than a few hours ago, he decides to move outside again. Not just because he feels as if he can actually face the world now, but because he just heard the faintest noise of voices passing by the hidden entrance of his cave.

When it had been decided that they would search out Uxie, they had not been able to come to the decision of whether they should move out tomorrow – which has now become today – or overmorrow. Judging from everything which happened in the morning, and the time Darkrai now spent hiding from the others, it will have to be tomorrow. And while he does not feel sorry for that at all – Grovyle is much too hasty in wanting to leave today, without Celebi and Darkrai being allowed even a full day’s rest – he at least feels ready to speak to them again, now. Even Grovyle.

And so, he moves outside.

All three of them are at the end of the cliff, staring at the ocean, in the same way Darkrai did previously.

And… Well. Certainly, it is not a good idea. He knows that it is not. But at the same time…

He moves towards them as quietly as possible, which means that he is basically inaudible. There are no footsteps which could be heard, and he perfectly controls his breath to be as even and shallow as he can manage. His shadow precedes him, of course, but he does not plan on getting close enough for them to be able to see it. No, he will have to count on Grovyle attacking on instinct, so he would rather be a little further away to evade that.

Once he is as close as he will get, he tries to think about what to say. The three seem to be in the middle of a conversation – something or the other about the ocean. Darkrai decides that going for something simple, which could be explained away as him just greeting them, and not scaring anyone on purpose, will have to do. Grovyle hates him enough as it is.

“It is a nice day today, no?”

All three jerk away in surprise. Grovyle is the quickest to turn, and just as expected, he moves to make a swipe. Darkrai moves out of the way, which was not necessary in the end, because Grovyle manages to stop himself in time.  Then, he scowls at him.

Celebi fluttered further away, instead, and now flies just a bit over the end of the cliff. How lucky that she has wings.

Pearl, however, first sports big eyes, and then, a smile grows to accompany them. “It is!” she answers, as if they were just having an ordinary talk.

“Darcy!” Celebi then exclaims, the same moment Grovyle tells him, “You!”, in a tone so accusing, one could think Darkrai did something much worse than just sneak up on them for a greeting.

Before Grovyle has the chance to actually accuse him of anything, Celebi speaks. “We looked for you everywhere!” she tells him, “But couldn’t find you, like, at all!”

Darkrai easily admits, “As was my intention.” He thought it was clear from their last interaction that he had wanted time to himself.

“We didn’t really search for you,” Pearl explains, “Just decided to visit the town on our own, and since Croagunk mentioned that’s where you went, we thought we might run into you.”

Well. That is a bit better. Truly, if they had actually wanted to search him out, they would not have come here. There is no reason for them to connect this cliffside with ‘the place Darkrai previously lived at’, since most Pokémon do not know about it. Dareios could have told them, but for some reason, Darkrai does not think he did. Not because he trusts the ghost, of course. Just… knowledge of the others’ character, and also of the ghost’s inability to just say what he means. No, dealing with countless snickers and enigmatic words it is.

And then, Celebi is prattling on again. “There’s SO MANY Pokémon in your town, like, what? And Pearl told me you sometimes have even more daily visitors? And that there’s supposed to be even bigger settlements? I thought your guild was super big already!”

Darkrai, not prepared for Celebi’s enthusiasm quite yet, looks helplessly towards Pearl. She seems to understand his silent plea, as she laughs – and it sounds just the slightest bit awkward – only to then change the topic, thereby giving Darkrai the chance to ignore Celebi’s many questions. “We actually ran into Dareios in town. I mean, ‘ran’ is putting it strongly, because he was at his bank, as he always is, but you get what I mean.”

Darkrai nods to show that, indeed, he does.

“So, yeah! And he wanted me to tell you that he, uh… that he accepts you sneaking around town, apparently? But that you really should greet him, when you feel ready for it.”

Darkrai, quite loudly, thinks a curse.

He breathes out an “Ah, yes,” in answer, and adds, “Then I guess I should do so.”

Else, Dareios might choose to do something drastic like… visit him at the guild. What a horror that would be. No, talking in town is much preferable.

He just has to hope that Celebi won’t mention that Dareios and him can’t be cousins by blood. Until now, she has stayed quiet about the things she knows, but it has been less than a day since they arrived.

Still. Adopted family should exist even in Celebi’s time, and who is to say that Dareios did not decide to just adopt a Duskull into a family so big he already could not keep track of it?

“Yes!” the very Pokémon he is worrying about rejoices, “Even more town visit!”

Darkrai decides to just ignore her, as he turns around towards the town. The other three can follow him, if they so wish, but they can also remain behind if they do not.

 

As they move through town as a group of four (unfortunately), Darkrai thinks about turning around and running away multiple times, because this might just be one of the strangest days he has ever had.

No matter where he looks, no matter where he goes, someone will spot him, and smile at him while calling out ‘Duskull!’. And when the three others’ presence will force him to do the ‘social’ thing and walk up to whoever addressed him, the callers will be so friendly, and they will tell him about ‘how happy they are that he is alright, and here, please take this small gift, it’s on the house, and again, they are so glad to see him in good health, and they don’t want to keep him any longer, they know that ‘the others’ will also want their turn’. And they will be right about that, because there will be someone just behind, waiting to repeat the entire spiel. He even has to ask Kangashkan to lend him a string bag to keep all the gifts in, so that he does not constantly have to run to her shop to store something either too big or too unwieldy or just too much to carry around the entire time.

She just laughs when Pearl sheepishly thanks her in Darkrai’s stead, telling them, “Not to worry, it’s good to see the two of you here and together again.”

The worst encounter might just be when Darkrai decides to approach Blissey – because his scars have been giving him some more reminders than usual that, still, they do exist; which he blames entirely on the time in the future and the following days. And the salve she had given him the last time they met is, firstly, almost used up, and secondly, over a year old by now. When he tentatively opened it yesterday, the smell convinced him to classify it as a ‘only to be used if there is really nothing else around anymore’ supply.

And maybe the fact that he has been approached more times than he can count by now has made him careless, because he only notices that Azurill and Marill are standing opposite Chansey when Blissey has already noticed him, which leaves turning around and fleeing the social interaction a mere daydream. If only he was alone, then he would not have to care about these social niceties. But right now, turning around would make him run straight into Grovyle, and that, he would rather not.

“Oh, Duskull! How wonderful to see you!” Blissey cries out, and Chansey adds, “We were so worried about you!”
A strong claim for someone he can only faintly recall talking to only once or twice at most.

Worse is that these two addressing him makes Azurill and Marill aware of his presence, and as one, they turn around to face him.

“Mister Duskull!” Azurill cries, and “Mister Duskull, you’re okay!” Marill shouts, and then the two start to approach him. He takes a step back and is faintly aware of Grovyle and the other two walking to his side, and before the two children can try something like… like hug him, another Pokémon speaks up – an Azumarill, who stood right next to them.

“Boys, don’t just approach him!” she chides, although there is a certain softness in her voice which tells Darkrai that she tends to be gentle with them, and the harsh tone chosen right now is the exemption, not the rule. The moment he notices that, as well as her species, he realizes who she must be: this is the mother of the two. Mentioned often by everyone in town, but never met by Darkrai.

“But that’s Mister Duskull!” Azurill tries to explain while saying absolutely nothing worthwhile, and Marill tells her, “He knows us! And you know about him!”

“That is still not a reason to just run at him like two beasts,” she reprimands, that softness still in her voice, walking the distance her children got ahead of her, “Give him the time to come to you himself.”

… That, Darkrai will absolutely not do. He remains standing where he is, although Pearl walks until she stands just a bit in front of, but mostly just next to, him.

“Alright, ma,” the two children mumble; and then, Azumarill looks at Darkrai. A smile grows on her face.

“That having been said, I am very happy to finally meet you in person, Duskull,” she addresses him directly, “My boys already told me a lot about you, and how you helped our little family.”

Darkrai stares, not sure what to say. “Yes,” he finally settles on, which, horrible! Absolutely horrible! And so, he adds, “I did.”

… That is even worse! This is just a stupid Azumarill, thanking him for not murdering her children even though they are supremely annoying, and here he is, not knowing a single thing to say!

“They are mostly… well-behaved,” he manages to force out. Complimenting parents on their children is always welcome, right?

Azumarill laughs. “Most of the time, yes!” She looks past him, and when Darkrai follows her gaze, she sees it settle on Pearl. “I really have to thank the two of you for helping my boys this much.”

And now, Pearl has the chance to also talk, which is wonderful! Because Darkrai has no clue as to what to say. “Oh, we did so gladly! And if you ever need someone to watch them in the future, we’d be happy to help!”

Grovyle clears his throat.

“… Once this whole time business is dealt with, of course,” Pearl adds.

Azumarill smiles and nods. “Yes, of course! And thank you very much for the offer. But first, I will need to repay you.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary—”

“But I want to,” Azumarill says. “Once you two have more time, I will have to invite you. According to Azurill and Marill, I am the best at making berry pie.”

Both children whoop.

“We’d be happy to sample that, then!” Pearl easily agrees, a big smile on her face.

“I’m glad to hear,” Azumarill tells them, “And now, we three need to go – we were leaving, but I am very happy to have finally met Duskull as well!”

“Yes,” Darkrai says, and he lacks the energy to get frustrated with his own answer yet again. This is why he hates having to interact with any Pokémon not a Legendary, or… well. An exception. Like Pearl. Or Dareios. They make it much easier to interact with them, than… this.

And then, the family of three is gone, and Darkrai can finally do what he came here for. The talk with Blissey is much easier, because there is actual business to be talked about, and it was an expected interaction, and… Well.

After that, they decide to move back to the guild, but obviously not without first paying Dareios a visit.

“Cousin Darcy!” he calls out the moment they come into view of his bank.

Darkrai’s answer is much calmer. “Cousin Dareios.”

Even without most facial features, it is clear that Dareios is grinning.

“How good it is to finally see you properly, and in good health as well!” Dareios says, beckoning Darkrai to step closer. He does so, and so do the rest of their now much too big group. Darkrai was perfectly alright with having just Pearl around, so tell him again why Celebi and Grovyle now stick to him like feathers to tar?

Heh. That reminds him of the one time with Cresselia and—

Anyways.

“Yes, yes, as I have been told by pretty much the entire village by now.” Maybe he should not be so flippant, because Dareios had the right to be worried about him, and Darkrai is almost touched that he seems to have done so for a Pokémon merely posing as family, but… He has heard that sentiment so often today, he has stopped believing it. Not that he ever did. The Pokémon in this town must simply be having their fun with him. Nevermind that he knows them to be too stupidly honest for that.

“And yet still, I am elated! Can you blame an old ghost for worrying?”

Darkrai stares at him, unimpressed. Both of them are aware as to who is older, and it is certainly not Dareios. Dareios stares back, unyielding. In the end, it is Darkrai who has to look away with a huff. The actual ghost between them is just much too good at not blinking at all, and Darkrai would rather not grant him a straightforward win.

“And I am also happy to see all you others! Pearl, always a pleasure; and Grovyle, good to see you as well. But we two have not yet been introduced, which is the greatest sorrow of all.” Looking towards Celebi, Dareios snickers.

Celebi snickers right back, although as Darkrai looks at her, he can see just the slightest bit of confusion in her gaze.

“It’s my pleasure!” she finally says, “I am Celebi! And you are Darcy’s cousin?”

Darkrai would throw her a glare if he did not feel Grovyle’s gaze on him at that very moment.

“Indeed I am! You may call me Dareios, if you so prefer, but you mustn’t, if you do not.” He snickers. “I think the familial relation is quite easy to spot, although,” he sighs heavily, “My cousin has the more striking eye colour, I will admit.”

Celebi laughs. “That’s a matter of taste! I, for example, think that Emerald has the prettiest eyes!” And then, realizing what she said, her face turns a much darker shade from embarrassment.

“Was you expressing happiness about my wellbeing, and socializing with those you have not met before, the only reason you wanted to meet?” Darkrai asks, intent on not letting Celebi ask any more questions. And also not intent on seeing her making herself more of a fool.

In any way, if Dareios merely wants to chat, then… Well. Maybe another day, Darkrai would indulge him, but today was exhausting. Sure, the sun has not even set, but Darkrai cannot wait to go to sleep.

… Which is a topic in and of itself, because now that others are aware of his ability, will they let him remain in the guild? Or will he have to find… somewhere else? The cave flashes before his eyes for a moment. That… might not be the worst decision. He would have to clear it with Chatot, obviously, and Chatot would want a reason, but if he could get the others to vouch for him…

But that would mean bringing the topic up, again, and he really does not want to do so.

“Oh no, no, of course not,” Dareios says, a snicker following his words, as was to be expected. “The first being business, of course, namely the interest your money has accrued while you were away.”

Darkrai feels his eyebrow rise. “Interest? Since when did you start adding interest?”

Dareios snickers, which then grows into a laugh. “I do not.” He grins. “Your total amount is still the same as it was before you two left.”

Darkrai throws him with a deadpan stare. The gall of this ghost.

Next to him, Pearl snorts. He glares at her.

“He did the same with me,” she states to the rest of their group. “And I gotta admit, when I’m not on the receiving end, it’s way funnier.”

“So that was the reason you wanted me here? To try out whether being a comedian would better suit you than being a banker?” As much as he tries, Darkrai cannot be truly angry, because, well, this is just how Dareios is. Although bad jokes are not always his metier, he certainly also does not hold back when he has the chance.

“Oh, yes! And since my new career has been decided on, I will need you to succeed my previous position.”

Darkrai stares at him, unimpressed. Dareios just snickers. Again.

Then, he sighs wistfully. “Ah, cousin, I did miss you.”

Darkrai stares and decides, alright, now is the time to leave. He can deal with a Dareios in the mood for bad jokes, but a Dareios in a wistful one? He would rather not.

“Darcy, do wait a moment!” Dareios calls out. Darkrai stops in the middle of turning away.

“There is something I do need to tell you, actually.”

Deciding to give the ghost one more chance, Darkrai turns back again. “Should it stay private in any way?”

Dareios shrugs. “It would be better, perhaps, but your friends won’t be an issue.”

Pearl smiles, and since she seems happy at being included, Darkrai decides not to take any chances by sending her away anyways. Dareios has a good intuition as to what conversations should be held in front of who, so he will trust him on that.

“It’s about great aunt Danaë,” Dareios starts, and Darkrai just barely keeps his face from showing the surprise he feels. A great aunt? He doesn’t know any great aunts! Dareios had never truly talked about ‘their’ family ever before, except for the mention of some nameless siblings, one of who Darkrai is pretty sure died long ago. But besides those, he had just assumed that the other doesn’t… really have much contact with them. He must have a big family, of course, to just accept a random ‘Duskull’ as a cousin easily, but… he just never spoke about them!

And now Dareios is staring at Darkrai, expectantly, as if there is something he should answer to that! As if they had talked about ‘great aunt Danaë’ so very often already! And the worst part is that, due to Pearl and the others being here, Darkrai can’t even pretend not to remember, in the moment! No, he will have to act along, and hope he does it correctly!

“Is she alright…?”

“Worried that she won’t be able to continue berating everyone for every little thing?” Dareios says, a snicker immediately following. “Worry not, unfortunate cousin, she’s as alright as she will ever be. No, it’s more about her and your… second cousin Deianeira. She’s your second cousin, right?”

Darkrai nods, helpless. He does not know how these family terms even work!

“Keeping track of all these relations can get hard,” Dareios states and snickers. “Anyways, she has found her ‘true love’,” and here, Dareios pauses, waiting for yet another interjection by Darkrai, who has no clue what Dareios wants.

“True love is a useless construct,” he settles on, because that is in character for the grouchy cousin Darcy, no?

Dareios laughs. “Seeing as this is the… fourth, I believe? time cousin Deianeira has found it, I would unfortunately have to agree with you. But that is quite beside the point! In any way, the young gal she found herself – a Misdreavus, I’ve been told, called Ophelia – you don’t know her, do you?”

Darkrai stares. Why does Dareios assume he knows a random Misdreavus? Sure, he has met Pokémon going by that name before, but a Misdreavus? Well, probably. But definitely not the one Dareios is talking about.

He shakes his head.

“Ah, I had not figured you would! In any way, these two apparently decided to elope – as is family tradition, of course – and to circle back to great aunt Danaë, you know how she feels about that.”

“Not pleased?” Darkrai guesses.

Dareios laughs, this time. “You are really in the mood for jokes today, are you not? Maybe you should be the comedian between us! No, obviously she was so happy for them, she decided to throw a party.”

“A… party?” Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Darkrai can see where this is going. But he won’t let Dareios talk him into joining the family party of a group of Duskull he should, supposedly, know, but most definitely does not. Which would become apparent even before he met them.

“No worries, Cousin Darcy, you missed it! I know you would not have enjoyed it, anyways.” He snickers. “I missed it, as well – with no one there to trust with the bank, I must miss such occasions, oh, the sorrow…” He shakes his head. “But I was later told by my nephew – Didacus, not Durans or Danyal, or any of the others – he told me that, apparently, great aunt Doireann brought her son Samar with her – the Ekans, you remember?”

Darkrai does not remember. Darkrai does not remember at all. Does he feel like the name and species of the probably adopted son ring a bell? Yes, and he absolutely cannot place it. But with how many names Dareios just rattled off, that is only natural. At some point, a single name starting with a different letter must feel like a lifeline for his poor mind, much too busy trying to keep track of and remember the various names, in case either Dareios or any of the still listening-in ‘teammates’ he gained will ask about any of them. He hopes they are just as confused as he is.

“Obviously,” he lies.

This one time, Dareios does not continue immediately, instead, he stares at Darkrai. Then, he sighs heavily. “Obviously,” he repeats, and he continues, “So, yes, obviously great aunt Danaë was very unhappy about that. You remember the drama she made about it, initially, of course. You would think she would not have any issue with it, seeing as she had no problems at all with the Brambleghast uncle Dimetrius adopted. “Another heavy sigh follows. “But you know how she is about non-ghost types. A regrettable stance to take. In any way, while she was apparently being her usual, charming self, grand uncle Desiderius arrived, and you can imagine how things went after that.”

Darkrai cannot. Darkrai also nods knowingly.

Dareios snickers. “So, all in all, as unhappy as I was at first about missing out on all of this, in the end, I was quite glad for it.”

Darkrai has completely lost the thread, and so, he just calmly states, “It seems lucky enough.”

Dareios snickers. “But now, I can see that I almost bored your friends to death, which would be a shame. I quite enjoy spending time around many different Pokémon. So I will end this here, now that you are caught up with the family business again, Cousin Darcy!”

“… Thank you,” Darkrai hesitantly answers. Who was who, again? And what did grand uncle Des… Desmond do? What is he known to do? Why did Dareios never before tell him about ‘their’ family?

Darkrai cannot remember him ever leaving the bank to join a family party during the five years they worked together. But maybe that was because there were no wedding parties to be had? Maybe things are just slow for ghost types?

Argh! Stupid ghost, stupidly confusing him with stupid family business Darkrai has no part in!

“And if you want to pick our old business up, once you two have the time for it again,” and this time, Dareios looks at both Pearl and Darkrai, and… blinks? winks?, “Do know that I will be here. It has been far too long since the town’s calm was ruined.”

… Pranks, huh? Darkrai had not thought about those in a while. He looks towards Pearl, who grins and then winks at him. He just nods. Seems as if all three of them are in need of easing their pent-up feelings, once they have the chance for it.

And with that decided, Darkrai can finally turn around and leave.

 

“I didn’t know you had such a big family,” Pearl tells Darkrai on their way back to the guild.

‘I didn’t, either,’ he thinks. He stays silent instead of admitting to it.

 

They leave early in the morning, before most of the guild has properly woken. Croagunk is already up and about, and so is Dugtrio. Chimecho can be heard preparing food in the dining hall.

And Chatot is awake, of course. He did not let the chance to see them off be taken from him. Not that they truly need his senseless prattling, but it is very obvious that it is done for the bird’s benefit, and not for those actually travelling.

“And see to it that you remain together, you understand! Don’t get split up again!”

Darkrai keeps himself from rolling his eyes. First of all, what is he, a child? And secondly, it is not as if they split up on purpose!

… He is not entirely sure on how much Pearl and Grovyle told the guild’s head of intelligence. Judging from Chatot’s previous behaviour, it was not much, though – probably just the split-up which could not be hidden from him. Grovyle is quite secretive, of course, and Pearl tends to be, with important things. So, most likely, Chatot is only referencing that Celebi and Darkrai arrived after the other two.

“It’s already an exception that you can take two badges with you, seeing as how it helped you, but four badges would be too many! So stick together!”

“Yes, yes,” Darkrai speaks before thinking, “We had not planned anything else.”

… They might have planned something else, depending on their meeting with Uxie. However, the other three stay silent, for once agreeing on the necessity of a lie. Chatot would, most definitely, not let them leave if he knew of their plans.

Even if it is just for this one morning, suddenly being treated as part of the guild again, beholden to at least some of the same rules that normal guild members are…

It makes him consider things. Like, perhaps, if Pearl would be willing, they could… leave the guild. Joining was… acceptable at first, when his plan was still beautifully simple and Pearl was still more child than teenager. But by now, having to deal with all these rules when he is a literal Legendary, older than the entire town counted together, is… annoying. And the plan has changed in so many ways, and…

And…

Once Celebi and Grovyle are gone, it would probably be… optimal to… isolate Pearl from her friends in the guild, if he wants her to rely more on him again. Just during the last few weeks, she seemed to grow so very much in character, and he already knows that manipulating her to continue considering him her very best friend will be hard, now that she had better examples in the form of her future friends.

(But he cannot do that to her.)

 

So, yes. Perhaps establishing themselves as an independent rescue team would be the way forward.

“Good!” Chatot squawks, pulling Darkrai out of thoughts he does not want to explore again, “And… well…” Suddenly, his previous vigour seems not to… dissipate, entirely, but it certainly lessens. “Do give Uxie my greetings, as well as thanks. And the guildmaster’s! And the guild’s!”

Darkrai keeps himself from saying something. Luckily, Pearl does so instead. “Of course, we will! I am sure he will be happy to receive them.”

“Ah, yes, hopefully. He and his siblings were such a great help after you two… no, you three disappeared into the future…” He trails off and just stares at the ground for a moment. Then, in one of his rapid changes of character, he flutters his wings. “What are you dawdling here for, still! It won’t be morning forever! Off with you, now!”

Darkrai does not point out that they had only remained until now because of Chatot. He is rather sure that Chatot knows that, anyways. The bird has his… annoying sides, and by Giratina, does he have many. But he is not entirely self-absorbed, and a lot of his more off-putting behaviour seems to be simple posturing. Maybe he feels the need to even out the guildmaster’s lax attitude. A guildmaster who could, luckily, not be roused from bed. Citing Chatot’s summary of what Wigglytuff mumbled, when trying to awake him, was that, “Everything’s gonna go a-okay, tell them I love ‘em, give ‘em big smoochie kisses.”

And Chatot awkwardly relayed these words, but not the kisses.

… Darkrai shudders.

In any way, that was more of the guildmaster than Darkrai had wanted in a day, anyways.

But finally, the four of them set off towards Fogbound Lake. Their travel now is a far cry from the first time Pearl and Darkrai undertook the journey: for one, Bidoof is not travelling with them, this time – fortunately. Instead, Celebi and Grovyle have come along, and while Darkrai knows that they will be a better help in the dungeons…

Well. Grovyle keeps throwing him glances, which is not just impolite, but also very unpleasant, and Celebi keeps getting distracted, at least when she does not try to annoy Darkrai instead. Although Pearl and Grovyle appear to have a talent for reigning her in a bit, or at least they are better at it than him. Just remembering the multiple times he’d turn around to make sure she was still following him during their three days of ‘solo-travel’, only to see a tiny speck of a Pokémon investigating something in the distance…

No, honestly, he is glad for the help in wrangling her.

Pearl is, of course, the most pleasant to travel with. Small talk is awkward when there are four of them, but she is the connecting link between the two groups they seem to be, more so than Celebi, who is also trying her best. Her best is just not good.

They do make decent progress on their first day, though, as surprising as it seems, as they end up just a bit further than the Craggy Coast. Considering that Celebi is with them, that is actually impressive – Darkrai does not believe they would have come much further even without her. Well, maybe Grovyle would have, but he also believes that sprinting the entire way would be a good idea.

In any way, they make camp just at the edge of the mountains separating them from Uxie’s lake, and Darkrai is very much not looking forward to tomorrow and the following days’ travel – there will be mountains, there will be narrow mountain paths, and there will be only one Pokémon of them who could fly if she fell, and she would not be strong enough to safe any of them. Well, maybe Pearl. But certainly not Darkrai.

But yes. For today, they have found themselves a nice little overhang, spread out their bedrolls, and Darkrai is busying himself with preparing some food for all four of them – nothing complicated, really, just some squashed Tamato berries, as well as some spices, put on top of some dried bread – but of course, things cannot ever be peaceful, because there is an argument which needs to be had.

And although Darkrai is somehow involved with it, he also is not guilty of that. How can he help who he is, after all?

And yet, Pearl’s pleading voice, not for the first time, rings out, “Please, Emerald, Darcy. Can we not make it so complicated?”

“I don’t trust him,” Grovyle states, for what must be at least the fourth time during this particular evening.

“And the same is true for me.” Darkrai glares at Grovyle for a moment, and then looks at the food again. Alright, that might have been a lie, because he does not believe that Grovyle would attack him while he sleeps, but… Well. If Grovyle wants to act like a petulant child, Darkrai can easily hold up a mirror.

(Wait, wouldn’t that imply that he, himself, is also acting like—)

Celebi, lying on a bedroll already, her arms crossed behind her head, speaks up. “So why don’t you two just share the watch, then? And after, Pearl can take over, because you trust her, and then I can go last, cause I wanna watch the sunrise anyways.”

“I’d like to watch the sunrise with you, Celebi,” Grovyle tells her.

Celebi attempts to shrug, which does not quite work in her current position. “So, uh, just do it?” Darkrai does not miss colour shooting to her face. “I mean, I can wake you earlier, if you want? I know that you don’t need as much sleep as I, anyways.”

Pearl excitedly claps her flippers. “So it’s settled, then!”

“I never agreed—”

“It’s settled, Darcy.”

Darkrai huffs, but decides not to oppose this decision. If Grovyle is willing to accept it, Darkrai will, in return, accept that as the miracle it is. And since they both had found a way on how to get along during today’s travels – that being completely ignoring the other – he is sure that they can just continue doing so during their shared night watch.

 

“A question,” Grovyle speaks up, completely deciding to overthrow their silent agreement to continue ignoring each other, “Because I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

Darkrai glares at him in answer. He is not in the mood for any kind of emotional talk right now, and especially not with Grovyle. He never will be.

Even through the darkness of the night, Grovyle must see his glare. After all, the moon is almost full, and Grovyle should be better able to see through darkness than normal Grovyle on account of the world he grew up in. So, certainly, he must see it, and yet, obviously decide to ignore it.

And so, he asks his unwanted question. “Just why did you help me when I was first collecting the Time Gears?”

Darkrai stares at him a little longer, but when Grovyle’s gaze grows too intense, he scoffs and looks away. His eye finds Pearl and Celebi, lying next to each after. They did bring four bedrolls with them, of course, one for each – even if Grovyle had wanted to insist that he did not need one and that the added weight and size would be counterproductive. In the end, his arguments had died down when Celebi offered to just carry his bedroll as well, which she had done for the first ten minutes of their travel, at which point she had started constantly moving things around and loudly groaning under the weight. Grovyle had then deigned to carry her pack – and thus his own bedroll had been tricked unto him.

Darkrai is not sure how much of that Celebi had actually planned out, but he did think that, this once, her plan commended praise.

In any way, they do have four bedrolls with them, and yet Pearl and Celebi decided to share one of theirs. The second one, they used not as a mat, but instead as an additional blanket. Thus, they have two layers of bedding in both directions, and Darkrai somehow wishes that he was small enough, and also did not hate touch, so that he could join them. It looks awfully comfortable.

Grovyle clears his throat.

Darkrai could just continue to ignore Grovyle, no? Quite possibly.

But perhaps openly showing him that he does not want to talk will actually work. And so, he asks back, “What, are you no longer interested in considering me a one-dimensional villain with no true agency?”

Grovyle sounds quite annoyed as he answers. “Do you always try to make it harder for others to consider you anything but, or am I just a special case?”

Darkrai glares at him. Just what is Grovyle trying to imply?

“Because you know,” Grovyle continues, “That you could just simply answer the questions you are asked, don’t you?”

“And you realize that you could also just do us all a favour and not try small talk with me?”

“This isn’t small talk! I am asking you something important, and you continue deflecting, for some reason!” He glares, then, with a roll of his eyes, explains, “Look. I don’t actually care if it was Dusknoir who put you up to it, trying to get my trust. By now, we all know that your loyalty is shaky at best. I’d just like to know.”

“I am not Dusknoir’s underling,” Darkrai rebukes, “I never was, I never will be. I did not help you because I was trying to gain your trust.”

He was. Mostly, though, he helped him because that is what needs to happen for time to continue running as it should, for Darkrai to continue existing. Is he annoyed about the comment of his shaky loyalty? Of course he is. But what need is there to correct Grovyle when he, himself, knows the truth? He has one loyalty, and that is to himself.

If only he would not need to make others believe that he is loyal to them, as well.

“So then why? I am trying to understand you, because as much as I’d like to believe otherwise, there must be an actual reason both Pearl and Celebi consider you a friend, even with your past betrayals.”

He does not roll his eye, but only barely. Really, can Grovyle think of nothing else to bring up? He might have felt riled up by comments like this at first, but by now, it is getting somewhat boring.

“Who am I to question their judgement?”

Grovyle groans and actually moves to massage his temples. “Could you stop evading any and all questions I ask you, just once?”

This time, Darkrai rolls his eye. How about asking him to stop breathing while he is at it? To stop acting as himself? It is not as if Grovyle deserves these answers. It is not as if anyone deserves them. Others will always assume, no matter what one tells them, so why give them the correct knowledge, if they will just twist it anyways?

But still. Maybe this is, once again, a chance. Because as much as he dislikes Grovyle by now, Darkrai dislikes the tense relationship they have even more. Always having to keep track of what he is saying, always having to expect Grovyle to make a snarky comment, always having to prove that he is very much on their side… It is quite annoying.

So, perhaps, trying to clear some things up would be the right choice.

“I quite dislike having to repeat myself, and I remember already telling you the ‘why’ the first time we met,” he tells Grovyle. Who continues glaring at him at that. Darkrai explains some more. “Just after I had just beat Mesprit up for you.”

Grovyle looks at him, disbelieving. “For me?”

This once, Darkrai remains honest. “No, just a matter of speaking. She attacked me first, and she deserved to be knocked down for that.” He shrugs. “But during our little fight after. Is your memory truly that bad?”

“Better than yours, thank you very much. But…” Grovyle trails off, seemingly thinking. What a great memory he must have. “You already knew about our future before anyone else.”

Darkrai nods. That, he did. Supposedly because of a nightmare, which will be the story he will continue to stick to.

“Because you saw it in a dream, correct?”

“And how do you know that? I certainly do not remember you at the assembly Dusknoir,” that name, he spits out, just remembering all the trouble the ghost created for him, “Forced us through.”

“Pearl told me.”

Of course she did. She… probably told him even more things about Darkrai. And that realisation, for some reason, makes him feel like running away, like hiding until no one knows him anymore. Which is irrational, of course.

Yet still, knowing that Grovyle knows more about Darkrai than Darkrai knows about Grovyle, thanks to Pearl having told him, makes him suppress a frown.

He will absolutely have to isolate her. Even if that thought leaves a bitter taste on his tongue – that is just his time in the future influencing him. The future made him see things through a false lens, made him draw wrong conclusions. There is never a victimless achieving of a goal. And Pearl…

She stopped his plans, multiple times. If she ever learns who he truly is, she will do so again, and she will hate him for all of it. So she will have to be… eliminated. Right now, of course, he needs to focus on other things. But yet still, he cannot let himself forget that. He cannot reconsider it.

Pearl will need to die.

“So, let me get this straight,” Darkrai, pulled out of his thoughts by Grovyle’s voice, has to painfully keep himself from flinching. “You saw the dark future in a dream, believed that dream to be reality, and then decided to… help me? When I was openly stealing Time Gears, and everyone believed that to be leading to the very future you supposedly wanted to evade?”

“Stop it with the ‘supposedly’,” Darkrai snaps. “I did not want the dark future. I do not want it, now.”

He interlocks his claws to keep his hands from moving too much. Then, he sighs theatrically. “I believed you to be innocent because I have… at least some knowledge about the Time Gears, as you know. Dusknoir had already… shared information about the dark future, and I have always known that their removal will not lead to a crumbling Temporal Tower – or at least not to the degree I saw in my nightmare. And so I knew that you could not be the villain in this story.”

“You know quite a lot about this topic, do you not?”

Darkrai tries to come up with an answer, but there is nothing to be said, is there? Yes, he does. Of course he does! He knows a lot about many topics he should not know much about! So what shall he say to this statement, framed as a question?

Grovyle sighs. “Alright. Don’t talk about that, then.”

“I am old, Grovyle,” Darkrai admits, as if that was the explanation the grass-type actually wanted. “And I have spent most of my life traveling. I have met many Pokémon, and have heard many tales and stories. Is it really so surprising that, after some time, I would start putting clues together others would never even manage to gather in the span of a single life?”

“And you have known the Lake Guardians for quite some time, and they have known you.”

Darkrai does not answer, because he knows that any knowledge shared now is knowledge which can, and will, most likely, get back to Pearl. But what use is it even, to keep it secret, even when everyone hates him because of it? If he just admits it, maybe Grovyle will finally let the topic die down. Maybe Pearl will do the same.

“I…” he starts, and then his voice breaks off. He tries to speak again, but nothing leaves his mouth. At least until he decides to abort what he wanted to admit, and instead answer with a question. “What does it matter?”

Grovyle sits up straighter. “Are you kidding me?”

Darkrai stares at him, uncomprehending.

“’What does it matter?’ It matters because you’ve kept hiding it for no apparent reason! What are we to assume, if you keep even the most inconspicuous things secret? We can only think that there is something worse hiding beneath these tiny things!”

“Or maybe I just like my privacy!” Darkrai throws back, not able to muster much conviction in his voice.

“Privacy is different from what you are doing!”

“And who are you to judge that?!” Darkrai snarls, “Who are you, who listens in to the most private of conversations, who continues thinking the worst of me simply because I do not align with what you want me to be, who are you to judge?!”

He has gotten loud, he knows that, and Pearl and Celebi will probably wake if he does not tune it down, but what does it matter? What does any of this matter?!

“Then give me the chance to see you otherwise!” Grovyle yells at him, his voice quiet, but the intent of shouting clear.

“And how?!” Darkrai cries, “How, when I am just being myself and you decide to interpret it as me being evil?!”

“I don’t!” Grovyle shouts, and then, quieter, with less energy, he repeats, “I don’t. I…”

He had started to stand up, as Darkrai is noticing he tends to do when riled up. Now, Grovyle sits down with a heavy thump.

“When Pearl and I travelled to the past, were caught up in an accident. I think we were attacked, by something or someone. I’m not sure, to be honest. Anyways, I think you already knew about the accident.”

Darkrai, caught in surprise by the sudden change in the nature of their conversation, nods. Oh, he most definitely knows that.

“So I woke up, in a past I’d only ever read about but wasn’t prepared for in the slightest. And I woke up alone, with no idea where Pearl was, if she was okay, if she was even still alive.”

“And?” Darkrai prompts, really not sure where Grovyle is trying to go with this.

“Well. Things happened, and I stayed solitary. But a few times, there was you, and for some inexplicable reason, you acted as if you wanted to help me. Then, Dusknoir caught me, gloated a bit about how I wouldn’t be ‘the only one’ to get sent to the future – and for a while there, I really thought you’d been on my side, and he had discovered you. That’s why I even tried to warn you about the Dimensional Hole.”

Darkrai tries to think back. Warned him…? He would have loved a warning, would have loved to never have to visit the dark future, but when…

A faint memory arises, of Grovyle trying to point towards the Dimensional Hole, of Darkrai having no idea what he was trying to say.

“Oh,” he breaths out, and he admits that, “I… did not understand.”

“That much was obvious,” Grovyle says, and he even snorts a little as he does.

“But yeah. Then I was back in the future, and I thought that I might meet the ghost who helped me. But instead, I met a little Piplup, whose best friend had just left her to die, for a reason neither of us knew, and the ghost was meanwhile walking freely at Dusknoir’s side.”

Darkrai grimaces. Alright, so that might not have made the best impression. But again, what was he supposed to do?

“And then, I learnt that this little Piplup was actually Pearl, the human who has been my best friend for years, but who couldn’t remember our friendship at all.”

“I know all of that,” Darkrai finally tells him, because except for the part with the Dimensional Hole, he did.

“Good,” Grovyle responds, “Because then, you really should get why I am having such a hard time understanding your perspective. You almost let my best friend die. You have lied to her multiple times, you continue lying to her – perhaps only by omission, but that is still a lie. You gave me the impression to be on my side, only to then turn around, act like you are allied with Dusknoir… and now, you insist that actually, that second part was the lie. But how should I know that the first wasn’t as well? And none of us – not me, not Celebi, not even Pearl – understand your reasons for it. Sure, with your nightmare ability, we can understand. I won’t hold that against you.”

Grovyle looks at him intently. “But the rest? Why not just admit to having a relationship with the Lake Guardians? We all know you knew each other before all this, even if you won’t admit it. By refusing to tell us anything, you just make it seem as if there’s something worse you are keeping secret. As if, in truth, you are maybe allied to someone else entirely, or to no one at all.”

He would laugh, if he could. Of course he is keeping worse secrets! The whole reason for this charade they do not even know about is something worse than they could ever imagine! They are trying to save time while having the cause for its destruction in their midst!

And now, Grovyle wants ‘truth’ from him?

This entire conversation is so very pointless.

And yet…

“Yes,” he says, “Yes, I have known the Lake Guardians for quite a while. This is what you want to hear, no? And the reason I am not very forthcoming about this knowledge is because…”

Because he is a Legendary as well. Because they know him all too well, and could always share this knowledge with others. Because he had wanted to seem like an ordinary Duskull, not one with connections in places they should not have.

But yet again, he cannot tell Grovyle about any of that.

“Because?” Grovyle prompts, a hint of frustration creeping in.

If Darkrai does not explain, then Grovyle will remain hostile. Which should not matter, but yet, it does.

Darkrai remains silent.

Grovyle scoffs and turns to look away. “Alright. Then so be it. Just don’t try to act as if I didn’t give you a chance.”

Darkrai stares off to the side. Nothing interesting is to be seen, of course – rocks, grass, the ocean in the faraway distance. Stars, and the moon. It makes him think of Lunala, and it makes him think of Cresselia.

He looks at the ground instead.

Great. Yet another chance gone. Why could he not just have used the story he told Celebi, of having done bad stuff and regretting it? He could weave the Lake Guardians into it, about how they knew his ‘evil’ self, and…

And what?

There lies yet another problem, because even trying this, it would not create a believable story. Nothing he could tell would create a story Grovyle wants to hear.

“I did not ally myself with Dusknoir,” he states, and his own voice comes out sounding so emotionless, almost dead, it might just reveal the lie he once again tells, “And I did try to help you two escape,” but even if that is the truth, does it truly matter?

He looks straight at Grovyle. “I keep secrets, yes. But I don’t keep them to harm you with. Not you, not Celebi, not Pearl. They… There are some things it would be best if no one knew about. But I am on your side.” Then, he looks away. He cannot remember a time he could talk without lying.

Although, that is a lie, yet again. He can recall, a time far before this, before the island, before…

When the world was big and exciting, when he knew not what being hated felt like. When he was still someone’s sibling.

But time marches on, and he did as well, and that Pokémon has been dead for millennia and will remain so; and any reminiscence only serves to remind him of what he has lost—, of what he had decided to let remain behind.

For a while, it is quiet. Not quiet as it was in the future, not the discomfort of utter silence, but instead the quiet which is a result of many tiny noises. The rustling of grass, of beings moving in the distance, of a breeze interacting with its surroundings. All these things and more create a quiet which is not truly a complete silence, and yet so very much more enjoyable than what the future had to give.

Then, Grovyle sighs heavily. “Okay. Alright. I guess I can give you the benefit of the doubt, but only if you answer one more question I have.”

“Binding your goodwill to stipulations?” Darkrai asks, careful to keep his tone neutral.

“No. Yes. I guess. I just need to know… Were you an outlaw at some point of your life, Duskull?”

Darkrai stares at him. So, either Celebi already shared things she should not, or Grovyle decided to assume it on his own. But… this question, it is not so bad. Because in the first case, his answer must be ‘Yes’, to align with what Celebi would have told, and this would be a simple test. If the second, then the answer would still have to be ‘Yes’, because that would be a sign of sharing at least part of a secret, letting Grovyle in just the tiniest bit.

And so, looking the grass type straight in the eyes, he lies (does he?), “Yes. I was. And I…” he trails off, but decides that, yes, he will go for that. It won’t be laying it on thick, it will just create a more believable truth, “I am trying to change who I was.”

“Alright,” Grovyle says. “I guess I can live with that, then.”

 

The next day is much more relaxed, because Grovyle actually does stop giving Darkrai hostile glances. At one point, they even have a small, meaningless conversation with each other while Pearl and Celebi talk amongst themselves.

The evening of the next day, they decide to split the night watch into four segments.

 

They continue to travel towards Fogbound Lake, and although Darkrai would not say that Grovyle and him are friends by the end of it, spending time around each other has become much… easier. Almost on the brink of being enjoyable, perhaps.

 

And then, they meet Uxie.

 

Notes:

Long chapter, huh? Hope you enjoyed! This chapter has one of my favourite scenes to date contained within it, and while it would be fun to make y’all guess, I can also just tell you that FINALLY getting to a point where Darkrai’s nightmare ability is revealed was just… very, very nice. Although, of course, being the lying bastard man he is, he still managed to hide some things, but eh. Some truth, that’s some progress! Even if he was very unwilling to share it.
I also can’t tell you how glad I was to finally get Pearl back into the story. I’ve missed my girl ;_;
And Dareios. Dareios is always fun to write.

On a slightly different note, you might have noticed that the travel time to Uxie’s Lake has suddenly gotten much longer than it appeared to be the first time. To that, I say: Yes. It did.
As you all are aware, I’ve been straying away from canon quite a lot for the last chapters. And so, I also did some reconsidering of the travel times as they are in canon. Originally, I just stuck close to canon, and in canon, no travel really needs more than a day. But then I found myself wanting to describe travel shenanigans, and suddenly, Mesprit and Azelf needed more days to be found, and Darkrai and Celebi needed multiple days to travel across the Dark Crater island (does this have an actual name? If it has, PLEASE share it, I desperately need to know).
So finally, I actually sat down and decided how far away certain places are with the help of the actual map, and I will try to keep these travel times steady from now on. What came before, please magnanimously ignore.

The publishing date of the next chapter, I unfortunately cannot tell. I am starting a job come May, which will obviously eat a lot of my previously free time, and I am also still studying, and unfortunately, exam season is starting to approach. So the next chapter might need some time. I will try to get something out by the beginning of July at least, but if I don’t manage that, do not fret: I am most likely still alive, just way too busy.

Last, I want to recommend some other stories, for those of you out there who still have that horrid Darkrai itch which only goes away by consuming more media featuring the bastard man! I thought about only recommending one story per chapter, but since no one knows when the next chapter will be published, decided that, no, that’s stupid.

One fic is by Kayuri and was somewhat inspired by A Veil of Lies. It features the (maybe) hero of EoS waking up as a Darkrai, with a Shuppet as a partner. Both their characterizations are amazing so far. You can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45871237/chapters/115446637

The next fic is by CandlitNights, and has only one chapter so far – but that chapter is amazing, so go and read it. The story will take some influence and inspirations from Nordic myths, which I can’t wait for; and also in the first chapter it features very cute tiny Legendary Pokémon. You can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46604617/chapters/117363529

The last (but not at all least) fic is by Stefanmar, and it’s actually two fics in a trenchcoat (i.e. a series). They feature a Darkrai who is the local forest’s cryptid, and later the local village’s breathing nightmare (unwittingly). If you want amazing worldbuilding, this is the fic for you (and if you do not, I do not care. Read it anyways). You can find the first part here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32933815/chapters/81736012
and the second part here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34601746/chapters/86134714

And with that, I’ll bid you farewell for the day! Have a great next week, or weeks even.

Chapter 26: Avian Anathema

Summary:

Update 01.10.2023: Unfortunately, AVoL will be put on hiatus for a while. You can read more about that by either going to the End Notes, or visiting my tumblr. The message is the same in both places. I apologize.

Last Chapter: Darkrai and Celebi, after returning to Treasure Town, were reunited with Grovyle and Pearl. After deciding on their next course of action – visiting all three Lake Guardians to gather their Time Gears – they spent one more night at Treasure Town. In the morning, Pearl confronted Darkrai, since she had figured out that he was the one responsible for the nightmares of those around him, but instead of condemning him because of it, she proved herself a true friend to him and remained by his side. Later that day, the group of four visited Dareios. The next day, they left for Fogbound Lake to meet with Uxie, which also yielded in a conversation between Grovyle and Darkrai, in which they laid their animosity to rest – at least for now.

Notes:

As promised, finally, the fanart I got! If I missed something, please tell me!

First, we have multiple pieces by khorale, who is like the best meme dealer:
https://www.tumblr.com/khorale/716088711398424576/i-did-the-he-asked-for-no-pickles-meme-for-a
https://www.tumblr.com/khorale/716259393237336064/ah-yes-the-dream-team-referencing-a-veil-of
https://www.tumblr.com/khorale/716526831764996096/time-for-an-inside-joke
https://www.tumblr.com/khorale/716804637949411328/avol-doodles

Then, we have some extremely cute art by nanetchi!
https://www.tumblr.com/nanetchi/716897432895700992/artblock-has-me-by-the-neck-but-i-had-to-squeeze

There’s also two wonderful pieces by mintange:
https://www.tumblr.com/mintange/717026714784546816/a-lil-fanart-for-neferirkarekakai-and-their
https://www.tumblr.com/mintange/718955821906690048/i-remembered-why-i-dont-use-watercolor-i

And last, but absolutely not least, once again some art by Candlit!
https://www.tumblr.com/purplependoodles/717905043643334656/first-attempt-at-digital-art-xx-def-still

There is no illusion of Groudon welcoming them at the end of the Dungeon. Instead, it is just the raised cliffsides and rocky ground, leading into the crevice which will bring them to Fogbound Lake. The sun is climbing the sky, still about three hours away from reaching its highest point. It is trying its best to pierce through the clouds, and up here, doing a better job at it then at the base of the plateau the lake rests on. Perhaps later in the day, it might succeed; but in these morning hours, it is still fighting a losing battle and appears only as a dim disk in the sky.

Since both Grovyle and Celebi watch the sun’s first light every day – and oh, how disappointed Celebi was this morning to only be greeted by fog – and because Darkrai is an early riser, they start their travels quite early every day by now. This happens much to the chagrin of Pearl, who, if left to her own devices, would stay asleep until midday. Unfortunately for her, she is now firmly the minority, and has to wake early or be left behind.

The four of them spent the night at Fogbound Lake’s base, and started the trek through the Dungeon early in the morning, deciding not to bother with the Drought Stone and the statue of Groudon. The Dungeon is contained within the plateau, after all, and thus, is unaffected by the fog on the outside. Inside, it will always be steamy, no matter the circumstances. And while Darkrai is sure that there is not just one hidden path up to the top of the lake, Uxie has kept knowledge of them hidden from him. He also, quite simply, would not want to send Uxie the message that he knows how to sneak up on him.

Even without the secret passages, he could do so, of course, but… they still have a truce going. Best not to destroy that simply because scaring people by merely greeting them is amusing.

In any way, there is no Groudon awaiting them, and so, they walk towards the lake undisturbed.  Darkrai is thankful for that. It means that either Uxie realized who was approaching early enough to decide on not forcing them to engage in a useless fight, or that he lacks the energy to summon the illusion right now. The first case is very likely, the second one would be quite worrying. Or, of course, Uxie is simply not present, which would be quite annoying. Or, because they did not get rid of the fog, he missed them approaching. There are many possibilities, but instead of puzzling over them, Darkrai just decides to simply accept things as they are and keep moving.

Behind him, the rest of their much too big group follows. Most of the time, either Pearl or Grovyle would act as ‘leader’, or at least the one walking at the front of their group. However, once they reached Fogbound Lake, it was decided that Darkrai should walk in front – for one, he has been here more often than all the others, and, more importantly, he has also not tried to kill Uxie recently. Thus, he is believed to get a better reception than Grovyle.

Darkrai has not ever actually tried to kill Uxie. That would be immensely stupid, after all, since most Legendaries enjoy immunity from each other – fights are accepted, but attempts on someone’s life are very much not. Attempts – no matter if successful or not – will carry heavy punishments with them, as well as the exclusion from the immunity granted to each of them on behalf of their rank.

‘Vogelfrei’, they call that consequence – when all the other Legendaries are allowed to attack and even kill the one deemed to be ‘vogelfrei’, with no liability for it. It is not an order to kill, but it grants forgiveness for the deed if committed. ‘Free as a bird’, the term translates to, although in reality, it grants no freedom and only persecution.

Luckily for Darkrai, he is still very much included in the agreement for immunity, as long as his misdeeds remain undiscovered. And Uxie is, of course, also not vogelfrei, and therefore granted immunity. Even from Darkrai.

Thinking of Uxie – as they near the exit to the crevice, Darkrai can start to make out the shape of something – someone – floating at the lake’s edge. It is reasonable to believe that this might be Uxie.

As all four of them approach, the figure becomes easier to discern, and indeed, it is Uxie, his back towards them, staring out across the water. There are no Illumise or Volbeat out currently, and the pressure of the steam caves creating a fountain is also an event which tends to only happen at night. Thus, the lake lies calm, almost no movement noticeable. Mesprit and Azelf’s lakes, admittedly, tend to be even calmer, due to being sheltered from things like wind on all sides, but still, Fogbound Lake is very tranquil today.  In its middle, the Time Gear can barely be made out, its shine almost entirely swallowed by the fog.

“Uxie,” Darkrai greets, sure that they have been noticed already. While none of them spoke on their way here, two of them make audible footsteps, and Celebi also gasped loudly every time a new part of the lake came into view.

“Darcy,” Uxie responds, turning around, his voice perfectly even. “It’s good to see you alive.”

“… You as well,” Darkrai responds, slightly taken aback by Uxie’s tone.

Did he expect a warm welcome? No, not really. Because as nice as their alliance is, he is still Darkrai, and that alone is reason enough to hate him. But still, Uxie appears to be… displeased. To the others, he must seem as he always does, or enough along those lines to not raise any eyebrows. But Darkrai has known him for so long, and he knows what Uxie’s displeasure sounds like.

But why would Uxie be displeased?

Darkrai has no idea.

“And Pearl,” Uxie says, addressing her directly, and suddenly, he sounds just a bit warmer, a bit more earnest, than he had been when speaking to Darkrai. “I am very glad to see that you are in good health, too.”

Pearl smiles. “It’s good to see you, too!”

So Uxie is displeased, and even more worryingly, he is not displeased in general, but specifically at Darkrai.

And Darkrai still has no clue as to why.

Looking between Pearl and Darkrai, Uxie speaks up again. “You brought… others.”

His gaze lies clearly on Grovyle. So is that the reason for his annoyance? That could be it, but that conclusion feels not quite right.

Grovyle, meanwhile, is looking at least somewhat contrite.

It is a testament to Uxie’s character that he does not immediately attack, but instead trusts Pearl and Darkrai to have had a reason to bring him along. Darkrai would not have been so patient.

“Hi!” Celebi shouts, either not noticing, or more likely, deciding to ignore, the mood, “I’m Celebi! I’m from the future!”

Uxie bows his head. “It’s my pleasure. I am Uxie, the guardian of Fogbound Lake.”

“The others already told me about you!” Celebi answers, and then, with a giggle, adds, “Only good things, no worries!”

A small smile escapes Uxie. “I am glad, then. I, unluckily, have not yet heard about you, but I am looking forward to getting to know more.” He turns towards Grovyle. “The same does count for you, to a somewhat lesser degree.”

This time, Grovyle looks truly ashamed. “I’m… For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry for hurting you and your siblings as I did.”

Uxie remains quiet for a few seconds. No one says anything, waiting for his answer. “Before I accept your apology, I would quite like to hear what happened in the future. Because there must be a lot to tell.”

“Yeah,” Pearl sighs, “There is.”

Uxie nods. “Let us not do so here, though. I trust that none of you will try to steal my Time Gear this time, so let’s find a comfortable place to sit down at.”

With that, he beckons them to follow, away from the big platform looking out over the lake, and instead towards a part of the shore which is much narrower, and which they did not set foot on last time. Darkrai follows without thought – he has been here a few times already, after all. He knows that there are multiple caves, converted into living spaces, both for Uxie as well as the local Pokémon. Darkrai is not sure if he has ever been at Uxie’s true ‘home’ amongst them, if it even exists.

As they walk, Darkrai once again looks towards the lake. Behind him, he can hear Pearl and Celebi talking with each other, with Grovyle now and then throwing a few words in; but the conversation is uninteresting to him – simply about how beautiful the lake is, and Pearl telling Celebi how it looked at night – and so, instead, he lets his thoughts wander.

He would like to claim that the lake has not changed much since his last visit, but unfortunately, it has. Oh, the huge boulders surrounding it are still where they belong, the bushes and small trees grow as they always do, and gentle waves are still lapping quietly on the shore. But something about the lake’s water seems… off. It needs some time until Darkrai realises what creates that feeling, but when he does, he cannot ignore it again. Because the water around the Time Gear, in a diameter of probably fivescore metres, does not move at all. It is hard to notice, because Fogbound Lake is truly gigantic, the opposite shore not even visible through the still-present fog, and the Time Gear only able to be located through its light, but… yes. Around the Gear, the water is still. There are no tiny waves to be seen, and the fog also seems unmoving.

Yes, it is obvious, that time has not restarted in the immediate vicinity of the Time Gear. Which is… probably not good news. It would be, if he was still attempting to create a dark future, but… well. Things change. Plans get discarded in favour of better ones.

Ahead, Uxie turns to the left, away from the shore, and just as Darkrai expected, leads them towards a cave, hidden almost entirely from sight by the surrounding boulders. There is no door to the cave – although cave might be the wrong word, it is more of an overhang, really. Beneath it is placed a reed mat, and on top of that, multiple round pillows. Most are quite small – also called ‘the perfect size for Uxie and his siblings’ – although a few bigger ones are also present. Not letting any of the others even have the chance to choose the biggest pillow (not that Pearl or Celebi would, but one can never know with Grovyle), Darkrai sits down the moment after Uxie has done so. Unfortunately, this places him right next to the other Legendary, but that is a sacrifice he is willing to make.

The other three quickly follow suit, making Pearl end up on Darkrai’s other side, Grovyle next to her, and Celebi closing the circle by being right next to Uxie. Once all are comfortably seated, Uxie speaks.

“Now, I would quite like an explanation,” he starts, and then, seemingly thinking of something else to say first, “Ah, and to those of you who have interacted with me before – please note that I go by she and her, now.”

Darkrai nods in confirmation, the right pronouns easily slotting into place within his mind. It was only a matter of time, after all, because Uxie has never been very firmly attached to any gender. Most of the time, what she identifies as changes in cycles of five to ten years.

Pearl, howsoever slowly, repeats Darkrai’s nod. She, of course, will have a much harder time familiarising herself with the different pronouns; and although Darkrai certainly tried to explain to her how Legendaries tend to handle gender, a dry lesson is never the same as just being thrown into things. He expects her to slip up at least one time – not out of maliciousness, of course, but because oftentimes, the mouth still acts on habit even when the mind knows the words to be incorrect.

Uxie will forgive her, anyways. She is never angry if it is an honest mistake.

“Alright,” Pearl says, nodding a final time, seemingly having wrapped her mind around things, “So, explanation. Do you want the long version, or the abbreviated one?”

Uxie ponders the question. Finally, she hums. “While I would prefer the long one, I think keeping it short, for now, would be wiser.”

Darkrai nods along, quite happy with that answer. Because a ‘long version’ of things might include ‘Darcy’ being on Dusknoir’s side for a while, and also ‘Darkrai’ helping Pearl and Grovyle while basically admitting to having create the Dark Future, and that… he would rather not have shared with Uxie. It might also include ‘Darcy getting so tired he started saying the dumbest stuff’, and while that may not make Uxie believe that Darkrai is a traitor, it would certainly be very embarrassing.

“Makes sense,” Pearl easily agrees, and then, with a look at Grovyle and then Darkrai, she asks, “So, should I tell it? Or…?”

“You,” says Grovyle, and “I would prefer you to recount it,” Darkrai tells her.

Pearl groans. “Yeah, sure, let me deal with figuring it out, you cowards.” Addressing Uxie again, instead of those she just wrongly deemed cowards, Pearl asks, “Gimme a moment, yeah?”

“Of course,” Uxie ascertains, “Take all the time you need.”

Closing her eyes, Pearl seems to think. After a few seconds, she opens them again, and with a nod, starts.

“Alright, so you remember the dark future Dusknoir told us about? Which you and Darcy kinda knew about?” Once Uxie nods, Pearl continues. “Well, turns out that it already exists. Or, like, the way things are going, that future will exist, if you get what I mean?” After another nod from Uxie, Pearl keeps explaining. “And Dusknoir wasn’t trying to stop it, but instead wanted it to, well, continue existing? Continue coming into existence? Don’t ask me why, only he knows his reasons for that.” She huffs, annoyance and maybe even a bit of disenchantment clear in her voice.

It makes Darkrai realize that, while Pearl had started to be a bit more critical of Dusknoir leading up to being forced into the future, it must still have come as an unpleasant surprise. A betrayal, even. Moreover, not only was the ‘venerated Dusknoir’ actually a villain, he also tried to kill her. It is not surprising that she seems frustrated.

(In a way, it is very similar to what will happen once Darkrai takes his revenge.)

(But there is no need to think about that right now.)

Pearl’s voice draws him from his thoughts. “Anyways, the one who actually wants to stop the dark future from ever existing is Grovyle, and so he was stealing the Time Gears for that—”

“Of course!” Uxie breaths, her tails, previously having moved from side to side calmly, straightening immediately. “The pentaptych and its lithic reliquary on top of Temporal Tower!”

She turns directly towards Grovyle, either ignoring or simply not noticing Celebi mouthing ‘pentaptych?’ and ‘lithic?’ and also ‘reliquary?’, clearly very confused. Darkrai decides to actually ignore her and concentrate on Uxie and Grovyle instead.

“How did you find out about it?” Uxie asks, sounding mostly curious, although a hint of scepticism slips into her words. After all, while the reliquary is a failsafe, it is not one many Pokémon, especially not those who are not Legendaries, are allowed to know about.

Grovyle looks off to the side, seeming almost embarrassed by Uxie’s focus. “There’s… well. There exists a… we call it the ‘planetary investigation team’, in the future. Which I and some others belong to.”

“I’m an honorary member!” Celebi interjects with a big smile.

Pearl opens her beak, and then closes it again. The movement most definitely does not escape Uxie, but she does not address it. Yet.

Grovyle continues. “As the name implies, its members are meant to investigate our paralyzed planet, and, more importantly, figure out if there is a way to save it. So, that’s what we’ve been doing, over multiple generations. I gathered that Temporal Tower is still hidden during this time?”

Uxie nods, her tails once again moving from side to side. Watching them is mesmerizing and can almost become hypnotizing if done for too long. Darkrai looks at Grovyle instead.

“Well, in ours, this separation seems to not exist anymore. The tower can, theoretically, be freely reached, although no one… tends to do so, because Primal Dialga lives there.”

“Primal Dialga?” Uxie gasps, her shock clear. Darkrai almost feels like telling her that, yes, Primal Dialga is absolutely real in the future, and Darkrai knows that because of experience. Experiences, actually.

He keeps quiet.

„Yes,“ Grovyle affirms. „We even ran into it while fleeing. It was very intent on stopping us.”

“Yeah,” Celebi adds, “Primal Dialga is actually the reason the dark future still remains as it is – it doesn’t want to stop existing, so it does everything in its power to sabotage any and all attempts at changing the past.”

Uxie exhales heavily. “You are very, very lucky then, to still be alive.”

Darkrai cannot suppress a shudder in time, memories of the words Primal Dialga spoke, of the rage it portrayed towards him, of the way it disregarded him and simultaneously told him of his own death, arising yet again. The movement makes both Uxie and Pearl look in his direction. He shakes his head, trying to tell them that he has nothing to say.

And suddenly, he asks himself a question. It is one he thought about previously, a morbid fascination, for which he dreads the answers as much as he seeks it. Before he can stop himself, he has asked Grovyle, “Where is Palkia, in all of this?”

Grovyle stares at him, then shrugs. “No clue. Space is obviously not distorted in the future – except for Temporal Tower being where it should not be, I guess – but no one I know ever met Palkia. I only know of him because of some old stories I was told.”

It is, then, Uxie who seems to have the answer for this question. Hesitantly, he tells them, “I would presume that he… was killed by Primal Dialga.”

“Killed by Primal Dialga?” Darkrai echoes, trying to wrap his head around that even being a possibility, apparently. These two fight each other occasionally, of course, and sometimes, these fights can become truly violent, but… they always stop themselves before a death can occur. In fact, Darkrai always thought that they simply could not die. Be severely wounded, yes. Indisposed for a while, of course. But not dead.

The pause after his words indicates that Uxie is thinking her answer through. And then, finally, she explains.

“As you know, some Legendaries can die.” Of course Darkrai knows. He is about to tell her, but then holds himself back. This must be explained for the benefit of the two Pokémon not Legendaries – and Celebi, being a third, honorary member of that group – here. “While it will not happen because of old age or sickness, wounds which might kill us can still be inflicted.” At her last words, she throws Grovyle a glance. Grovyle reciprocates it for all but one second, and then looks towards the ground.

“I… apologize,” he whispers. His words becoming a bit louder with every word, as he explains, “I never had an issue with you or the others. But I… got desperate.” Finally, he looks at Uxie. “I decided it would be a sacrifice worth making, for the good of the entire world.”

“It would not have been,” says Uxie, “But since I believe you that you have seen the error of your ways, I will not turn this into a schooling experience.”

Grovyle nods, probably in thanks, or acceptance.

“So, while some Legendaries can and have died, others… cannot die, at least not in the way that we have internalized death to work. Dialga and Palkia are examples of that. Most of the other greater Legendaries are.” She pauses for a moment, and it is clear that she must be recalling something. Then, she continues. “And thus, I believe it very likely that this is what happened to Palkia. Because the primal forms that some Legendaries possess grant them a lot more power, but also make them more driven by simple instinct, not knowing any mercy. It is, to simplify it by a lot, a matter of brain or brawn.”

“And thus, Primal Dialga will be stronger than a still normal Palkia?”

“Exactly,” Uxie agrees to Darkrai’s words, “And nowadays, they cannot change freely between their forms, as they once could. A safety measure, enacted for the benefit of this planet. But it means that, if one of them slips into their Primal form, the other could not choose to do the same.”

“But how does Palkia die, then?” Celebi asks, “I get why Primal Dialga would win in a fight, but you just said that they can’t die, except in a weird way?”

Uxie nods. “Correct. For Legendaries like him, death is not the complete cessation of life, but the transformation into something lesser. A reduction until there is only the barest sense of ‘alive’ left.”

Very obviously noticing everyone’s confused glances, Uxie elaborates. “Palkia would still exist, and through his existence, keep space stable to the barest degree, but besides that, he would not be. His existence would be the rustling of a single tree during a storm from a forest, the light of one tiny star becoming visible in a moonless night, the scent of a lone daisy growing in a field of lavender, the forgettable throbbing of an old scar next to a new wound.”

Uxie takes a deep breath.

“These things exist, and they can be noticed, yet they get drowned out by everything else in the world. They are a thought, forgotten forever the next second. They exist, yet they yield no power.“

She looks at nothing but the space between the five of them. “In many ways, it is worse than death.”

Silence follows her words, none of them finding the words they are unwilling to say, anyways. There is that heavy feeling of something on Darkrai’s shoulders, wanting him to tug his arms in, to bend his head forward, to become as small as he can possibly be.

He…

He fears death and has done so for a very long time.

And yet still, what Uxie described… He thinks he might fear this fate even more. To exist only to be forgotten, to exist yet remain unseen, unheard, unwitnessed…

It scares him more than the thought of death ever had.

The silence draws on, until finally, Uxie calls them back to reality.

“But this is all beside the point.” She smiles. It looks a bit helpless. “You were telling me of what happened in the future.”

“Ah, yeah!” Pearl says, only a slight waver in her voice betraying some sort of inner conflict having gone on, “Yeah! I… uh, where was I? We got kinda sidetracked, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Darkrai says.

Uxie nods. “Indeed. But I think I gathered the important information already, anyways. With the world you hinted at, I understand why you need to gather the Time Gears. Truly, collecting five and bringing them directly to Temporal Tower seems to be our last hope, for now.”

Not for the first time today, she sighs heavily. “I first wanted to gather your version of events, so that I could gauge whether I can truly trust you.” She holds up her hand before anyone can react with anger to her words. “Dusknoir proved himself as a very skilled liar, and accepting that his words were nothing but deliberate falsehoods was not easy.”

Grovyle is quick to agree, an annoyed huff accompanying his words. “He is, unfortunately.”

Celebi seems almost sad as she affirms, “Yeah. He really is.”

Pearl says nothing, but she does not need to – her countenance tells enough, anyways.

Once again, they all fall quiet. Darkrai forces himself not to think about Dusknoir – there is nothing to be gained from it.

“Do you know how much more time we have…?” Grovyle hesitantly asks.

Uxie nods. “Indeed. My siblings and I have been in contact with Dialga. He is trying to slow the fall of his tower, but it is getting worse every day and he cannot reverse anything, anymore.”

“Is that why time doesn’t move in the places the Time Gears were once in, even if they are put there again?” asks Pearl, very obviously thinking of the Treeshroud-Gear which was mentioned back at the guild.

“Exactly,” Uxie tells her. “You can see it even here, at my lake. The same is true for Mesprit’s. Which is a very bad sign – by Dialga’s estimate, Temporal Tower will be damaged beyond saving in about four weeks, eight weeks at most. “

“So… We need to hurry,” Grovyle states.

Uxie agrees, “Yes. Eight weeks is both a very long and very short time, and that might not even be the amount of time we actually have.”

“Okay, but one thing I still don’t understand,” speaks Celebi, “Is why Temporal Tower is collapsing. Did Dialga do something he should not have done? Like, you mentioned him not being able to reverse it. But isn’t he, like, the Legendary of time? So it shouldn’t be out of his control…”

Uxie looks somewhat uncomfortable. “I… Well. I should, most likely, not tell you about this, but you all already know much more than you should, and as such…” She sighs heavily and rubs her forehead, as if trying to push away a headache.

“Things right now are a bit too chaotic to properly investigate,” she admits, “But all the signs are pointing towards something – or perhaps even someone – having sabotaged the tower.”

Ignoring the disgusting taste the words leave in his throat, Darkrai asks, “That is possible?”

The words taste like ash mixed with bile, but creating an alibi is much more important right now than any wayward uncomfortableness.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Uxie warns, her voice so harsh that the other three will probably understand that this is not a reaction to a wayward hypothetical situation, but to a real fear, connected obviously to Darkrai. Curse her. Curse her!

He… He already has so much to deal with, and now Uxie goes, and makes everyone even more suspicious of him.

Darkrai dares not look at anyone but Uxie, not in any way ready to face them.

“You were in the future. You know what consequences the destruction of Temporal Tower yields.” She stares directly at Darkrai as she speaks. He hates her a lot, right now. The itch to just attack, the itch he hasn’t felt with her in quite a while, returns tenfold. How dare she.

Finally, finally, she looks away, towards the centre of the circle they have formed.

“But… Yes. It is possible. And it is likely to have happened.”

“So there is someone responsible for this all? Someone wants this?” Pearl asks, disbelief clear in her voice.

At least… At least she is not looking in Darkrai’s direction as she asks her question.

(Why does she not even look at him?)

 “Some Pokémon… thrive off things like that. Their reasons can often not be parsed by the rest of us. But yes, they exist.”

“But how would one even sabotage the tower?” Celebi asks.

This time, Uxie shake her head. “That, I will not tell you about. It is bad enough that it happened once. I will not be the one responsible for spreading the knowledge so that it might be repeated.”

“Fair,” Celebi says, a laugh following the word. “So, now we just gotta continue gathering the Time Gears? And then, well, uh, where is Temporal Tower, in this time?”

“Ah, a good question.”

“The Hidden Land, correct?” Grovyle asks.

“Indeed,” Uxie says, nodding. She rearranges herself to sit more comfortably. Darkrai is also starting to feel the length of their conversation, but remains in the same position.

“Reaching it, is, of course, not allowed for everyone. My siblings and I will ensure to speak on behalf of you four towards Dialga – if you all plan to go to Temporal Tower, of course.”

“Yes,” Pearl states, and “Of course,” Grovyle says, and “If I can!” Celebi tells. And Darkrai…

Darkrai stares at Uxie. Because… Because if Uxie could find out who he is, then Dialga can, and Dialga will. The chances of him not finding out are very much non-existent. While he is certain that his mastery of illusions, especially when it comes to the one of ‘Darcy’, is at a point of excellence right now… It still won’t fool Dialga.

And Dialga… Well. As long as he does not realize that it was Darkrai who created all this trouble, he would not hate him, but… he certainly does not like him.

(He desperately hopes that Dialga will never find out the truth.)

(Sabotaging Temporal Tower might just be what tips the scales of Darkrai’s state of immunity.)

But then, Uxie nods. It is an impossible small movement, so small that Darkrai is sure that none but him noticed.

Something constricting his chest, something he did not even notice, lifts.

If Uxie will back him, will approach Dialga about this topic, then… Darkrai will be safe.

“As if I could leave these three children to go off on their own,” he finally grumbles, although it is most likely very clear that he does not mean to truly insult any of them with his words.

“Hey!” huffs Celebi, and “How old are you even?” asks Grovyle, and “Yes, yes, grandpa, we know,” jokes Pearl.

Darkrai pretends not to have heard any of them.

“Good,” Uxie interrupts any useless discussions which could arise, “Then I need to tell you all about something like a… key which you will need to reach the Hidden Land. I suspect that finding it will take you much longer than gathering the Time Gears, and unfortunately, I cannot help you with that.”

“Finding what?” Pearl asks.

“It is called the ‘Relic Fragment’.”

“Relic Fragment?” Pearl echoes, breathless.

Uxie seems to misinterpret the emotion in her voice, as she starts to explain. “It originates from the Hidden Land, and when Dialga notices trouble arising, he sets it free. While it does not truly have a mind of its own, it will still search out the one best suited for the task of helping Dialga. It is necessary to have it in your possession to even reach the Hidden Land.”

“So we need to figure out who found this Relic Fragment? Really?” Grovyle asks, disbelief and frustration very clear in his voice.

Darkrai, meanwhile, sits stock-still. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. That…!

The Relic Fragment must have been intended for someone else, because even if it is not actually Dialga choosing someone, even with a mind of its own, the fragment would never choose Darkrai for the task. But… but it might have chosen the original partner Pearl had. The one who has still not shown up.

Is… Is that the reason the original partner had never shown up? Was the Relic Fragment supposed to be found by them, to then lead them to searching out Treasure Town? Was Darkrai taking the fragment an unwitting change, a change which might cost him his life?

A cold feeling starts to spread through his body, from his chest out, towards even the tips of his fingers, until they feel as if engulfed in ice. It feels as if he is in a snow storm, unable to move, unable to call for help, unable to even shiver. Just a coldness spreading into the very edges of his being, just freezing over until his body does not even belong to him anymore.

He notices that he is barely breathing, anymore, and yet, he cannot help himself. His throat seems to shout in agony when much too cold air tries to pass, his lungs cannot rise or lower. He might as well be a statue, made of ice.

No. No, he can’t…

Time is not running correctly, right now; or at least Dialga is not paying attention to things as closely as he normally might. And so, Darkrai could still exist, even though he changed things irrevocably.

But…

But once time is fixed again, once Dialga is fully in control again, will he…

No. No, he can’t. He cannot allow that.

But if he truly changed things so considerably, by moving the Relic Fragment, taking possession of it…

He won’t allow himself to disappear. He won’t.

All his previous realisations about his sabotage of Temporal Tower suddenly seem so very worthless. What use is there in saving it if he would only doom his current self through his actions? His life must come first.

It does not matter that “a” Darkrai would still exist. That is not him, not the one who lived in Treasure Town for years, the one who was forced to see the dark future up close, the one who started exploring Dungeons, the one who befriended Pearl.

The Darkrai he once was is gone, and that this version still exists is abnormal, is something which could…

Which could…

Perhaps… Perhaps this is the solution, no? Because, sure, as long as Temporal Tower is crumbling, as long as Dialga is struggling, Darkrai will exist. But afterwards? Afterwards, he cannot say. So, perhaps, if there are two Darkrai, the timeline will choose the one who has more of a right towards existence.

Which… would be the one who had not travelled through time, of course. But what if… that other version of himself… was simply not there?

Dialga could not erase him from time if he was the only Darkrai. He could not. 

And yet, the ice does not thaw, and Darkrai has to suppress a shudder which wants to escape him. Just why did he pick the stupid Relic Fragment up?! He should have known not to stick his nose into Dialga’s business, but no, a moment of revenge seemed more worthwhile than considering the bigger picture!

(As it always does, to him.)

(No, it does not—)

(Did he not get caught up in all of this business because he considered revenge more worthwhile than looking inwards and asking himself—)

(No! Shut up!)

(He knows the truth, anyways.)

(And it is that this revenge IS WORTH IT.)

“Darcy?”

Darkrai stares at Pearl, blinking stupidly. “What?”

“Uxie wants to see it?”

“What?”

“The Relic Fragment. I just mentioned how—”

“I heard you,” he snaps, reaching into his bag to pull out the Relic Fragment. He hates how bad he suddenly feels, trying to evade Pearl’s gaze. She is responsible for all of this, he reminds himself. Even if it has not happened yet. If she had never decided to change the future, then he would not have needed to come up with a plan to stop her– or take revenge – in the first place.

(Without her, the dark future would still exist as it is, and Darkrai would be dead, killed by—)

“Here,” he says, thrusting the fragment into Uxie’s outstretched hands, refusing to look at her as he does so. He looks at the fragment instead, watches how Uxie turns it this way, that way, inspects it from all sides. In relation to her, it seems positively gigantic, and her simply holding it seems as if it should not be possible in the first place. But Uxie is much stronger than most would expect, and she is also a psychic type. Manipulating objects so that she does almost no actual lifting with her hands is easy for her.

Finally, she stops moving the stone in her hands. There is the tiniest quiver in her voice as she affirms, “This… Yes, this is indeed the Relic Fragment.”

Darkrai averts his gaze, staring at the ground to his left side. The reed mat is woven in a herringbone pattern, and following the segments with his eye should be calming. It is not, because Uxie just revealed that Darkrai seemingly stole the Relic Fragment from whoever it was intended for. That he did not do so on purpose does not matter. Things like that never do, when seeing only the worst in him is so much easier.

And, expectedly, Uxie immediately turns on him. “Where did you get it?” she asks, her tone dangerously calm, and then, the following question downright accusing, “From whom did you take it?”

“Darcy told me he’s always had it,” Pearl, hesitantly, seems to jump in to defend Darkrai. Even Celebi might notice that her heart is not in it. It might just be simple reflex to defend a supposed friend of hers, and this time, it unfortunately happened to be Darkrai.

Uxie ignores what was said and instead glares at Darkrai. Darkrai glares right back, although it is very uncomfortable to do so. He is the first to avert his gaze. And he, at least, tries to explain. “I did not steal it from anyone. I found it some years ago.”

“Where?” Uxie inquires immediately, not even leaving him a moment of reprieve.

Darkrai huffs, once again feeling brave enough to look directly at Uxie. He glares. “What is it to you? Should I have just left it lying where it was?”

“Yes!” Uxie shouts, almost standing from her seat – and then, in a sudden change of character, she sits down again and takes a deep breath. “The Relic Fragment cannot have been meant for you, Dar-, Darcy.”

The stumble at the end is indicative of the why behind Uxie’s belief.

And… And she must be right. Darkrai cannot have been the intended recipient of the Relic Fragment, and the fact that he was can only have happened because of the time travel.

The fear he ignored just moments ago creeps back into his soul – if such a thing even exists. The fragment was not meant for him, and yet, he took it. The original partner Pearl had had had never appeared, because the fragment went to Darkrai, making them never find their way to Treasure Town. He has no proof for this theory, of course, but… It just seems so very obvious, now.

“Why not, though?” Pearl asks, all out of a sudden. “Darcy had the vision of the future, didn’t he? That seems like he was always meant to be more involved in all of this. Unless the Relic Fragment can cause visions?”

“It… No, it can’t,” Uxie answers, shaking her head. Slowly, she adds, “Or at least it should not.”  And Darkrai dares not to look at her, but stares at Pearl instead. Pearl, who just came to his rescue. Pearl, who he once again told a lie, which is now assumed to have been truth.

A lie which might just save him now.

And yet, it tastes so very, very disgusting. This entire conversation does.

He needs to drink something, anything, needs to wash down the taste all of this has left in his mouth, in his throat.

“And the vision made you search out… Made you rely on me and others,” Uxie carefully continues. Darkrai finally dares to look at her again, hoping, almost praying, that she does not drop something which might result in hate from those he constantly keeps in the dark.

He is lucky enough that Pearl seems to have, if not forgiven, then at least chosen to move past the supposed betrayal in the future.

But if the lie he told Uxie – of something in his vision having made him approach Pearl…

He does not think she would like that very much.

Finally, Uxie hands the fragment back to Darkrai. He takes it, and without saying a word, puts it in his bag.

“That does make things easier,” Uxie finally says. “Reaching the hidden land will be possible with the fragment, and now, no time will have to be wasted with looking for it.”

And suddenly, Darkrai realizes, that if the Relic Fragment truly chose him, it chose right. Ignoring the chance of it having been meant for someone else, Darkrai does know more about the inner workings of Temporal Tower than probably everyone but Dialga, and he does want to stop the dark future from ever coming into existence. The reasons for these things do not matter, because the Relic Fragment has no true mind of its own. It just searches out the one it believes to be best suited for the task.

He stifles a hysterical laugh.

So either he is truly the best to safe Temporal Tower, or he just doomed himself by picking up a stupid stone. How very, very hilarious.

If it was not his own life on the line, he would love to watch how this turns out from afar.

Instead, he has to listen to Uxie explain the way to the Hidden Land, now that their ticket there is ensured, all while having to consider the possibility that he might just die once time is saved.

He rues the day he came up with this plot of revenge.

 

For a while, Darkrai watches Grovyle swim towards the Gear. He’s quite fast, as he tends to be, but Darkrai can see that he is not trying to establish a record… yet. Celebi and Pearl are off to the side, watching Grovyle as well, although Celebi keeps looking at the other grass type for a moment, then turning away, and covering her rapidly reddening face with her hands.

What is there even to be embarrassed about? Grovyle looks as he always does, just that now, he’s wet.

(He will never understand the hearts of those who love so easily.)

Someone clears their throat, and Darkrai turns around.

Uxie floats behind him, higher than usual, to be on eye level with Darkrai. And while her face does not truly betray any emotion, what Darkrai picked up on earlier is now even more apparent – for some reason, she is angry with him.

But why? If she had learnt that he was behind the sabotage of the tower, she would not have talked to him as she did before, so what has she discovered which now makes her act this way?

“Let’s take a walk,” Uxie proposes, although she does not wait for an answer. She merely turns around, and starts floating away from Celebi and Pearl.

With a last glance at them – and it looks as if the two decided to get into the water as well, and, judging by Pearl swimming circles around Celebi, and Celebi laughing in turn, they seem to be having a good time –he turns his back to their shenanigans and starts following Uxie. Because evading her is quite impossible, and he would rather have the reason for her anger explained as far away from the others as possible than where they could overhear.

For a while, there is only the noise of moving water further away, as well as the voices of Pearl and Celebi growing fainter and fainter.

Then, once they are not much more than background noise, Uxie speaks.

“I was told a very interesting story by the guild’s members.”

Darkrai keeps quiet.

“That there was a Pokémon which seemingly attacked the guild one night. One who had extraordinarily long, white hair, according to eyewitnesses, and a single blue eye. Do you know anything about that?”

For a moment, Darkrai thinks about lying – or not lying, per se, rather ‘making something up’. Uxie is good at realizing when something is a lie, but not at noticing when something is entirely made up. Stories are, after all, not truly ‘lies’, even if they are used as one. But… Uxie seems as if she is sure that she already knows the truth, so there would be no use in that. So best correct what she thinks of as ‘fact’.

 “I did not attack anyone,” Darkrai harrumphs, and quickly adds, the moment Uxie fixes him with her equivalent of a cold glare, “At least not until they attacked me first.”

“You attacked with Dark Void and put Chatot to sleep—”

“And he woke up and was alright!” Darkrai shouts, already realizing what Uxie’s issue is.

Uxie, however, is relentless. “What were you doing in the guild in your true form?!”

“I wasn’t!” Darkrai shouts, even louder, and then realizes that, as far away as Celebi and Pearl might be, they could hear him at this volume. Trying to speak as calmly as he can, he explains, “I mean, I was. But that was not… on purpose. I was forced to spend the night in my true form because of… certain factors, and…”

Should he tell the truth? It would incriminate Dusknoir as more of a bad guy, so why not. “I had the misfortune of being spotted by Dusknoir, who then proceeded to attack me for no reason at all. My escape unfortunately led me through the guild, and of course, they took offense to that.”

Uxie stares at him. And stares some more. “Why were you in your true form, so close to Treasure Town? You gave me the impression that you do not want it known who you truly are.”

“I don’t,” Darkrai grumbles, and tries to think of a reason he can give which does not involve mentioning that he simply wanted to do so, and also decided to sleep close to the guild to ensure that they keep having nightmares. He has the faintest hunch that Uxie might not like that.

“I… Had to sleep on the cliffs next to the guild, and traversing them was… hard, because I could not see my feet.”

“Why not use it after that, then? You can keep it active while asleep, can you not?”

Darkrai looks towards the lake. The words he intends to speak get caught in his throat, refuse to move out, and at the end, it sounds more like barking than speech when he admits, “Because I don’t enjoy being under the illusion.”

There is an awful moment of silence after that. It is obviously Uxie who takes up the word again, just to needle him with even more questions.

“So Dusknoir attacked you. Why?”

“I was in my true form. That is enough of a reason for a good few Pokémon.”

Uxie stares yet again, her arms crossed before her chest. “Do you want me to believe you, Darkrai? We both know Dusknoir was not the good Pokémon he made himself out to be, but I doubt that even he would attack you for no reason whatsoever.”

Darkrai scoffs. ‘Yes’, is on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it back down. “Perhaps it was a personal reason. Stop prying.”

“I would, if you had just told me that it had happened in the first place! Did you not think it might be important that Dusknoir had attacked you, when you warned my siblings and me of him?”

He crosses his arms in a mockery of Uxie’s position. “It is over and done with, Uxie! Stop being mad at me for things which already happened!”

Finally, Uxie uncrosses her arms, to put her hands on her hips instead. “You created a danger which might have condemned Chatot to a slow and cruel death!”

“My mere presence in town could cause that!” Darkrai cries, “What, do you want me to hold back from using any and all attacks and just let myself be killed by an enraged ghost and the guild he sicced on me?!”

Uxie does not answer immediately, which is the first sign that Darkrai said something he ought not to. The glare she fixes him with is another. The heavy exhale yet one more.

And her words, finally, explain it. “Your presence could cause it? Are you telling me, Darkrai, that you have taken absolutely no safety measures for your continued stay in Treasure Town?”

Darkrai wants to look away, as he did the entire previous conversation, but at the same time…

“So what?” he scoffs, fixing Uxie with a glare of his own, “I can’t change my ability!”

“But you can change the way you respond to it! You can change the way you prepare for the worst case! Cresselia’s feathers—”

“The feathers don’t work all the time!” he shouts, “And it’s not as if she would just give them to me if I asked! She’d rather get me imprisoned somewhere, so why blame me for simply existing?!”

“I am not,” Uxie rebukes, her voice suddenly very calm again. For some reason, that just makes Darkrai angrier, “I am blaming you for not telling my siblings and me an important bit of information about Dusknoir, for not telling us of your accidental attack. I am blaming you for deliberately endangering each and every Pokémon in Treasure Town, for not asking my siblings and me to help you get some of Cresselia’s feathers. I am blaming you for ruining the trust we both so painstakingly tried to build!”

“Trust?” Darkrai is quick to laugh, that old urge to destroy whatever good thing might come his way. Because a Uxie who trusts him was amazing, but it is not as if he ever thought it was going to last. It is not as if he ever could make it last. “This partnership is one of convenience, Uxie, nothing else. It is simply our goals overlapping by chance. I do not want to trust you, and I will not ever trust you!”

Instead of shouting back, instead of losing her head, Uxie takes a deep breath. And then another. Then, she looks out towards the lake. Darkrai follows her gaze, straining his eyes against the fog.

Celebi, Pearl and Grovyle are all at the edge of the water, very obviously having the time of their lives. Although Darkrai can only make out their silhouettes, it is easy to tell that Grovyle has now been included in whatever game Celebi and Pearl were playing in the water previously. Faintly, some squeals can be heard now and then, most very obviously coming from Celebi. For once, Pearl is in her element of preeminence.

Even if Darkrai was there right now, he would not join in. He knows himself well enough, and also knows that he does not tend to be welcomed during things like it.

Not that he wants to play in the water. It would be preferable to being needled with questions by Uxie, but almost everything would be. Fighting Dusknoir might be more enjoyable, even.

“Pearl and you plan to visit Azelf, correct?”

Turning to Uxie, Darkrai answers honestly, somewhat annoyed at having to repeat himself. “Yes. As we told you when deciding on who to retrieve your Time Gear.”

“Good. If anything afflicts her at all, do not hide it. We will find out.”

Darkrai rolls his eye. He is not a small child who needs to be scolded, and if Uxie acts as if he is, well, then Darkrai will just act accordingly. “And if it does, then what? Will you sic Cresselia on me?”

“Yes.”

“What? No!” he splutters. “You can’t—”

“Just as you can’t tell me the truth, Darkrai?!” And Darkrai realizes that Uxie is not just angry, but furious. She hides it well under deep breaths and a calm voice, but right now, it breaks forth again. Darkrai uncrosses his arms and keeps them awkwardly at his side, not intent on letting his instinct of moving them before his chest protectively get the better of him.

“I was—"

“Be glad,” Uxie forces out, interrupting him, and yet Darkrai lets himself be interrupted, “That I do not believe this to be yet another scheme of yours. Be glad that I think you just fell back into bad habits for a moment there. Be glad that I do not think that you are still intent on spreading discord…” She trails off and then looks directly at him, her eyes still closed, and yet, the threat she speaks is clear not just in her words, “Because if I did, I don’t think I could hold myself back from erasing all of your memories.”

Darkrai’s shoulders raise defensively, even without any conscious input. His arms rise with them, getting closer to his chest. Yet still, he dares not cover it, lest he let Uxie know that he is afraid of her.

Forcing his next words out takes more effort than it should, and they sound shakier than they ought to be. “You think I would let you?”

Uxie continues staring at him, her eyes still closed. Darkrai makes sure to stare at her chest instead.

“You, Darkrai, need to hit me with an attack and hope that I don’t power through it. Your Dark Void is not infallible. How sure are you that another of your attacks could knock me out with a single hit?”

She pauses, moves her head a bit, and Darkrai keeps staring at her chest. “But I only need to look you in the eye. A moment is all it takes. Do you think you can fight blind? Do you think your attacks can hit me when just the barest glimpse at my eyes will spell your doom?” Her voice is a hiss as she adds, “Are you willing to take these chances?”

He suppresses a shudder. “And then what?” he scoffs, as if nothing of her words is of true concern to him, “Are you willing to get yourself condemned by every other Legendary? Are you willing for whatever punishment they come up with?”

“You are vogelfrei, Darkrai!” Uxie cries, the old word rolling off her tongue easily. “There would be no consequences!”

Darkrai jerks back, the words more of a punch than any attack of Uxie’s could be. Realization is refusing to settle in, but the distress comes to him easily.

Because Uxie does not lie. She keeps things unmentioned, she keeps things hidden… but when she speaks, she speaks the truth. And so, he must accept what she said as reality, even if everything within him baulks at it. Even if there should be no way for him to have been declared vogelfrei, and not know about it. Even if…

Even if everyone has always hated him, they would not…

And yet, Uxie does not lie.

The only word leaving his mouth, barely even a whisper, is, “What?”

And that, somehow, seems to calm Uxie. Her anger disappears – or it probably doesn’t, but she at least does a good job at pretending it to be gone.

“Sit down, Darkrai,” she tells him, and although for a moment Darkrai thinks of objecting, he lacks the energy for it. In fact, the moment Uxie has sat down on the ground, Darkrai does the same, although much less gracefully. The ground beneath him is rough, made up of uneven stones. A few steps away, there are still gentle waves lapping against the shore. From further away, he can hear the noises of Pearl and her friends, shouts of joy and water splashing.

“I had assumed you might know. You are quite apt when it comes to gathering knowledge you should not possess, and even if you did not, I assumed someone would tell you.” Almost absentmindedly, she picks up a particularly rounded stone and starts rubbing it.

With a sigh, Uxie then admits, “But at the same time, I had the suspicion that you did not. Your actions remained much too bold.”

Darkrai stares, wordlessly urging her to finally get to the thing which keeps rattling around Darkrai’s mind. He does not need all this preamble. Just… Just an explanation of how…

‘Vogelfrei’, Uxie had said. Vogelfrei, which would mean that Darkrai had been declared free to attack, free to kill by the other Legendaries, with no penalty to fear. Vogelfrei, which would, in a way, be a death sentence.

“Some… centuries ago, a bit after Wo-Chien and Chi-Yu escaped confinement and were consequently sealed again, there was a meeting called for all Legendaries—”

“There was not,” Darkrai interrupts Uxie. Because if there had been one called for all Legendaries, Darkrai would have been included.

Of course, ‘all’ Legendaries never truly includes all of them. Giratina could not attend even if she wanted and was wanted, Necrozma is seen as ‘no longer belonging’ to the rest of them, Eternatus was never even invited in the first place. The Treasures of Ruin cannot join, due to having been sealed away.

But still. Almost all Legendaries are invited to meetings. Darkrai is (…was?) included in that. Because even if he is known to ‘spread dissonance’, so is Hoopa, and so are Tornados and Thundurus, and so is Zeraora. Darkrai is not the only one who is not liked by the rest, but still considered part of the family most Legendaries pretend to be.

The meetings are few, and the stretches of time between them can sometimes become centuries. Which is why it is so very important that each Legendary is at least invited. Darkrai cannot remember many times all of them made an appearance – he, himself, tends to ignore them most of the time – but still… They are invited.

And so… and so, there just could not have been a meeting called, a meeting Darkrai knows nothing about.

But the way Uxie looks at Darkrai, waiting for him to accept the truth she so unhelpfully put before him…

“There… There can’t have been.”

“There was.”

Darkrai tries to swallow whatever ugly feeling is rising in his throat.

“That… That does not make any sense,” Darkrai states, hating how he can only whisper the words as the realization starts to truly settle that, not only was he excluded, but he was also proclaimed… vogelfrei.

“All signs were pointing in the direction of you having done what had been fixed a few months prior—”

“There was no proof!” Darkrai cries, his much-too-high voice breaking in the middle of the sentence “Not everything bad which happens in the world is my fault!”

Uxie looks at him, her ever-closed eyes conveying more emotion than should be possible. “It is not,” she agrees. Then, she sighs heavily. “But certain things are. I will not argue with you about the truth, Darkrai.”

Darkrai glares. It is not as if Uxie is wrong, of course, yet still…

Yet still, it hurts that, once again, Darkrai must have been assumed to be a villain. And that Uxie thinks the same.

Yes, of course it was Darkrai who tried to free the four who were sealed away. Who else could it have been, after all? It is always Darkrai. No one else is villainous enough for that. No one else is evil enough for that.

Always just him.

It does not matter that, this one time, there was no ‘bigger goal’. He was not ‘spreading dissonance’, he was merely trying to help those who were being unjustly punished. None of the four treasures can help their nature. Catastrophes will happen with or without them around. That they have embraced what they are is not a crime.

And even without any proof, the culprit was, apparently, clear. Because who else but a dark type could it be? And who else but the one dark type amongst the ranks of the Legendaries everyone hates?

And yet, to not include him…

“So I was not invited to your wonderful meeting,” Darkrai harrumphs, “And then what?”

“Many of those in attendance were… very angry with you. Because it was not just I who realized who had been behind what had happened.”

“There is no proof,” Darkrai once again tells her.

Uxie nods. “Indeed, there is not. And as it so happens, you are the only one who is that talented at covering his tracks.”

Darkrai blinks. And blinks again. Is…

Is Uxie telling him that he is too good at crime?

“This was not only clear to me. And so, it was decided to exclude you from the meeting, so that it could be decided how we would proceed in all dealings with you. This was not the first time you caused considerable trouble, Darkrai, and we all had to assume it would not be the last.”

“But…” Darkrai stammers, trying to wrap his head around this all, “But that is no reason to declare me… to say… to decide that I should be… should be…”

“I agree,” Uxie states decisively. “But a vote was nonetheless held, and of those in attendance, more than two thirds decided that the only way to stop you in future crimes was to get rid of your immunity.”

“But…!”

“No, it was not just,” Uxie agrees to the unspoken statement. “You had no way to present your case, no way to defend yourself. Declaring someone vogelfrei should not be done lightly. But that is what happened, and that ruling is still in effect today.”

The fear within him starts to disappear – and it was fear, Darkrai can accept, now that it is gone – to be replaced with anger.

How dare they.

“Who voted for it?”

Sternly, Uxie looks at him. “I will not tell you.”

She does not need to, though, because even without any names having been shared by Uxie, Darkrai is sure about some of the votes already, anyways. Cresselia was most certainly there, because Darkrai was the topic for this meeting, so of course she would be. And she would jump on any chance to finally see him brought to justice for his supposed crimes.

Others being ‘very angry with’ him hints at the Swords of Justice, who have always disliked, or downright hated him, and would not even need a moment to ponder the question. The Legendary Beasts are also often in attendance, and it is the same with them as with the Swords. And except for Tapu Lele (who tends to call him “amusing”), the Guardian Deities are often seen attendants, who also dislike him.

The ‘great Legendaries’, as Uxie has so helpfully dubbed them… Don’t appear to those meetings quite as often, of course, but even then, most dislike or even hate him. The only one who does not is Yveltal, and that is just seen as yet another sign proving how evil Darkrai is.

“But…” Uxie hesitantly starts, still turning the stone she picked up in her hands, taking a moment to stare at it. Sometimes, Darkrai wonders how she must see the world. She is not blind, as is very obvious, but… certainly, with her eyes ever-closed, the world must seem very different to her. “I know you do not want to talk about her, but Cresselia was against it. Very loudly, too. You have had your differences, but know that she does not want you dead.”

“She’d rather see me imprisoned for eternity,” Darkrai claims, automatically. But…

But why would she not want him dead? Why would she not at the forefront of those leading the charges?

Perhaps… perhaps this is yet another of her tries at making herself beloved, at showing how good she is.

‘Look at me’, her actions might have said, ‘Look how, even with him being such a horrible criminal, I still do not think Darkrai deserves to die.’

(But at the same time, a hollowness within his chest is suddenly filled with the slightest bit of warmth, thinking of her not wanting him to die.)

(That must be anger, no? How dare she think herself too good to properly condemn him.)

“I do not think so. But… Darkrai. You are vogelfrei, even if I do not agree with that. Even if my siblings were against it, too. If you had met any of those who actually voted for it, you could have—”

“I know what being vogelfrei means!” Darkrai snarls.

Because the gears are turning in his head, and suddenly, things start to add up, things he never even thought it necessary to question before. Because the state he arrived in the past in was… bad. Truly bad. He has always been a quick healer, as are all Legendaries, and yet, he cannot remember for how many days he could not even move.

He does not remember who attacked him, who left him with wounds that bad.

And… And he does not even remember the events leading up to it. He does not! No matter how hard he tries, the memories seem to be truly gone, as if his mind is suppressing them as strongly as it can, to save him from something bad.

Something so bad that sometimes, he will wake from nightmares with a rapidly beating heart, and he will remember that the dream was based on emotions, emotions bound to events he cannot recall.

All-encompassing fear. The need to flee. A realization of impending death. The need to cry, and yet no tears coming.

He has not cried in centuries. He does not care that he has not. So why would the dreams which give him the feeling of having to cry fill him with so much fear?

And he realizes that, whatever will happen in the future, whoever will attack him, they will be aiming to kill.

It won’t be a bad accident, not an unfortunate hit of an attack. Whoever confronts him will want him dead.

Whoever confronts him would have been guiltless of any crime if Darkrai had not survived.

“I want to believe in the good within you, Darkrai,” Uxie says, with her words pulling him out of a maelstrom of increasingly scared thoughts. “And I think that so do you.”

Darkrai stares at Uxie for one second, two seconds, three—

As if.

As if!

How dare Uxie act as if she knows what Darkrai is thinking, what his plans for the future are?! There is no ‘good’ within himself he wants to believe in, no being he has to change himself into! He was created to bring nightmares, and that is his only purpose, and nightmares are not supposed to be good. Nightmares are not supposed to be nice or helpful or… or…

He was not created to be good. When he tried to be, he only hurt himself. It does not matter if he now hurts others, if at least he can be free. The suffering of others is nothing he can stop himself from causing, so why even try?

Maybe they were right to declare him vogelfrei! Maybe he does not only deserve their scorn and hate, but also to be seen as even more of an outsider to their oh-so-perfect family, even more of a villain with no redeeming qualities at all. Maybe he does deserve to be hunted by them! Who knows!

(Maybe he deserved what landed him in the past.)

At the edge of the lake so very, very far away, Darkrai can see Pearl and her friends finally leave the water.

Watching them makes his chest tighten, makes his eye start to hurt in a strange way, makes his throat clutch unto the air inside his lungs as if it does not want to ever let it out. Watching them makes Darkrai hate them.

Even he knows how irrational that is. It makes it even worse.

And he knows that he chose not to join them. The idea to get in the water was not brought to him, but before that, Pearl asked if he wanted to stay with them, to wait for Grovyle. But instead, Darkrai decided to stand further apart, to act as if he does not belong, because…

Because…

Because he does not. Because everything he has built has been built on a foundation made of lies, and once they are revealed, whatever he built on top of them will break, will bury him alive.

But to lie was what he set out to do. To betray Pearl is what he decided on, and…

And…

He wants it. He so desperately wants to hurt her, to betray her, to finally show her what monster hides beneath the illusion.

He wants her to be broken by it. Wants her to look at him with nothing but contempt in her eyes. To only see him as an enemy.

He wants her to hate him.

Uxie speaks up, then, and it is obvious she has no insight into Darkrai’s thoughts, as evidenced by what she says next.

“I do not ask of you to tell me all your secrets.” A slight smile grazes her face. Kind. Encouraging. It is not difficult for Darkrai to stay unmoved by it. “I just ask that you stay careful with your ability, and that you stay open about the things which could matter.”

Darkrai looks away.

“I will not reiterate what we talked about. But please. Try to remain a bit more honest. Perhaps you can see it as a way to serve yourself, so that you won’t have to deal with me being angry again. And so that I can continue to vouch for you before the others.”

Darkrai continues staring off to the side.

“You are vogelfrei now, but that does not mean that the decision cannot be revoked. Until then… please, stay safe.”

Darkrai refuses to look at her when he asks, “Are we done with this conversation, then?”

The lightest sigh escapes Uxie, and Darkrai takes offense to it sounding the slightest bit fond. “Yes,” she confirms, “We are.”

 

They arrive at the edge of Treasure Town shortly after with the help of the explorer’s badge – and as much as the piece of metal and its powers are still a mystery to Darkrai, its teleportation abilities are… impressive. Something like the badge would be quite a good tool for a quick getaway if he were to, say, get caught in the act of doing something he should not be doing.

(Or if someone tries to kill him.)

He shakes his head to get rid of the thought. There are no Legendaries here right now, beside himself, so he should not needlessly worry.

Well. And Celebi. Who is, technically, also a Legendary. Darkrai will continue to refuse to count her, anyways, his reason being mere spite.

The badge landed them at a new place yet again: closer to the town than last time and yet further then when they used the badge to get an injured Azelf to safety. It seems as if truly every badge has its own place to land the ones using it.

Around them, trees sway back and forth in the breeze today has brought. Once again, the autumn storms are about to start, and it feels disconcerting to see them start so soon after last time. That there was an entire year in between does not matter, because Darkrai did not live through it.

There had, of course, been considerations as to which way would be quicker for Pearl and him to reach Azelf. For Grovyle and Celebi, making the stop at town was clearly shorter; but the path along the eastern coast was something Pearl and Darkrai had pondered. In the end, it might have been two or three days longer, which would, of course, not be the wisest decision while being in a very real time crunch.

Seeing as it is still around midday, the time spent with Uxie having consumed the the entire midmorning, they probably won’t stay the night in town. Which suits Darkrai. His nightmares have not been mentioned by any of his travelling companions, but the one night he had had to sleep at the guild after almost everything had been revealed can only be described as uncomfortable. There was no outright judgement, but it was clear enough that it had been there.

In any way, they are at the outskirts of Trash Town now, and considering their next course of action.

“So… Do we need to get something from town, or are we all good?” Pearl is the first to speak up, looking at Darkrai as she asks.

Darkrai opens his bag to look inside. Grovyle does the same with his.

He stocked up well before they left, but still, there is only so much food he can carry to feed four Pokémon over a span of about a week. There is still some left, and if Pearl and he truly had no chance to stock up, they could make it to Azelf’s lake. But that would need them to enforce strict rationing, which just seems entirely unnecessary when they are literally next to a place where they can easily restock.

Grovyle is the first to answer. “I’ve got enough for me and Celebi.”

“Celebi and me,” Darkrai corrects on instinct, ignoring the annoyed glare Grovyle throws him. “And I technically have enough for you and me,” he tells Pearl, “But it would be better to restock anyways. And get some fresh water.”

“Oh, yeah!” Pearl gasps, “That’s always kinda low.”

“I still have enough,” Grovyle tells him.

Darkrai raises an unimpressed eyebrow, and is just about to speak, when Pearl does so. “Fogbound Lake water doesn’t count. And on the off chance of Chatot being in Treasure Town, we really should not split up. He gets… well…”

“Let us just say, difficult.” Darkrai takes over.

Pearl nods. “Yeah, exactly that. You two haven’t seen him really angry, yet, and I’d like to keep it that way. So, let’s stay together for a while, okay?”

Grovyle sighs. “Well, since we would not want to face his ire, I guess we must.”

“Besides,” Celebi chirps, “It’s not as if we’ll be separating immediately, anyways! Like, the route Darcy showed me on the map has us travelling together till… uh… Mystifying Forest was it, yeah?” She looks towards Darkrai.

He nods. “Indeed.”

Celebi giggles. “Told you I am a map genius!”

Darkrai decides to turn around and start the short way towards Treasure Town instead of engaging her. She thrives on annoying him, and he is not willing to give her the delight of doing so, this time. Today was already exhausting enough.

 

Their stroll into town is mostly uneventful, except for when they run into Bidoof, who happily greets Pearl and Celebi, keeps his distance to Grovyle, and greets Darkrai with the usual stutter he has developed around him.

Darkrai decides to give him the grace of simply ignoring him, and instead continues his talk with Dareios – who is not as cryptic today as he was the last time they met, which suits Darkrai perfectly fine.

They started by talking about the weather – they are agreed that it is much too sunny for autumn, although at least the temperature is acceptable due to the wind – then went on to Dareios describing an interaction he had with a certain Stantler Darkrai had also had the misfortune of meeting in the past, and then continued to meander in a way conversations which are not very deep, but still amusing, tend to go.

Darkrai would even have continued ignoring Bidoof and talking to Dareios instead, if the tiny rodent did not suddenly let out a gasp and address Darkrai directly.

“Oh, uh, Darcy—”

“Duskull.”

“Sorry! Sorry, Duskull, of course, Duskull. It’s just kinda, uh, confusing with two of you around? You know?”

Darkrai glares at him. Dareios snickers. Bidoof yelps. Pearl quietly scolds, “Darcy!”, which Darkrai ignores with practiced skill.

“So, what do you need from Darcy?” Pearl finally asks, which makes Bidoof gather himself rather quickly.

“Ah! Yeah!” He turns to look up at Darkrai. “A letter arrived for you? I mean, that’s a statement, not a question! A letter arrived for you, yup yup!”

Darkrai looks at him. “A letter? From whom?”

“I don’t know?” Bidoof answers, intoning it like a question, “We didn’t open it, obviously, and it’s just your name on the front and nothing else!”

Darkrai hums, trying to think of anyone who would send him a letter. No one comes to mind, especially not in his form of Darcy. Well, unless Dareios told his family of ‘Darcy’, and one of them then decided to send a letter to the mysterious cousin who should not exist. “No indication at all?”

“Nope!” Bidoof tells him, “Should I, uh, I can fetch the letter quickly? So you can read it? I’d have to be really quick, because Sunflora is waiting for me at the watering hole, but uh, if you want it now, I’d obviously get it!”

Darkrai looks at the anxious Bidoof, constantly shifting his weight between his two front paws. After just a few moments of Darkrai’s staring, Bidoof looks away, yet does not stop his shifting.

He truly is easily cowed by Darkrai, is he not? There is a pang of a strange emotion at that, which Darkrai forcefully silences. Bidoof is one of the many worthless Pokémon whose lives are so very insignificant, they might as well never have been born. That Darkrai was forced to interact with him for a while, by now, does not change this.

Finally, slowly, does Darkrai nod. “I would prefer that. I assume the letter arrived some time ago, did it not?”

Bidoof nods. “Yup yup! The day after you and the others left to visit Uxie!”

“Well. Then it would truly be best if I read it immediately. If it was urgent, it might already be too late, but no reason to let our mystery writer wait even longer.”

“I’m gonna fetch it right now, then!” Bidoof answers, and before anyone has the chance to say anything to him, he has turned around and is running in the direction of the guild.

“So, should we just stay here, then?” Pearl hesitantly asks, looking at Darkrai as she does so.

It is Dareios who answers. “I would certainly not begrudge you keeping me company for at least a bit longer.” And then, a predictable snicker follows. Just when Darkrai had gotten out of the habit, Dareios comes along, and seems intent on snickering even more often than normal. It is almost as if he wants Darkrai to start snickering again.

“Bidoof mentioned a watering hole, though, did he not?” Grovyle asks.

Pearl quickly explains, ridding Darkrai of the need for it. “Yeah, it’s the roofed one at the end of the stairs to the guild. We could also wait there, I guess? So that Bidoof won’t have as long a way back, and Sunflora won’t have to wait for him quite as long?”

Darkrai considers the proposition, at least until Dareios lets out a heavy sigh. He will not choose Sunflora’s company over Dareios.

“Let us stay here,” Darkrai says. “Bidoof knows where to find us, and he will pass Sunflora on his way. He can tell her the reason she needs to wait longer himself.”

“I mean, I guess,” Pearl answers, and then looks at Darcy with a twinkle in her eyes. “And I bet that decision has nothing to do with whose company you prefer.”

Darkrai harrumphs. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Sure you don’t!”

“I, for one,” interjects Dareios from behind his counter, “Am very happy about my cousin’s decision. I did not see you all in so long, and then you disappeared yet again. My sorrow was unending, oh, so much sorrow I almost drowned in it!” He dramatically puts the back of his hand against his mask, his eye closed to truly underscore his pathos.

Pearl laughs. “Alright, alright, we’ll stay here. Your battle is won!”

Dareios lets go of his pose to instead lean on his counter, a smile apparent on his face. “Splendid. So, a mysterious letter, hm?” He turns towards Darkrai.

Celebi giggles. “Maybe it’s a love letter!”

Darkrai glares at her.

Grovyle, uncharacteristically, snorts. “You think someone would fall in love with this grouch?”

Darkrai turns his glare towards Grovyle. Just because getting along has become a bit easier, the last days, does not mean that Grovyle can just make fun of him like this. “At least I would notice if someone reciprocated any feelings I had for them,” he scoffs.

(That is a lie, but at least he is aware that it is one.)

(Darkrai was not made for being loved by anyone, and he was not made for loving someone in return.)

Grovyle, the dim-witted fool, looks at Darkrai, his mouth agape. “I… what are you trying to get at?”

Celebi, right beside him, turns a very, very deep shade of red.

Pearl suppresses a snort. Dareios, behind his counter, does not try and instead laughs loudly.

“What?” Grovyle repeats, still just as clueless, as Celebi buries her face in her hands. “What’s going on?"

“Take it from this old ghost,” Dareios addresses Celebi and Grovyle, although Darkrai is sure that the two of them do not realize it, “Love needs to be seized. Dancing around is fun, but dancing with the one you love is better.”

Celebi still hides her face behind her hands, although one of her eyes peeks out from between her fingers.

“How romantic,” Darkrai comments in a deadpan voice, making clear what he truly thinks of the words Dareios spoke. Dareios just snickers to that.

Pearl, ever curious about other’s families, turns to question Dareios. “So do you have a significant other, Dareios?”

Dareios snickers again. This time, Darkrai can tell that he is trying to buy himself time with the action. They all wait for Dareios to answer – Pearl out of interest, Celebi probably to get the attention off her, Grovyle likely because he is still confused, and Darkrai because he is, just the slightest bit, also interested.

Then, there is another snicker, and it sounds the slightest bit different, as if Dareios has found his answer, and the snicker is just so instinctual to him that he needs to add it before and after every sentence. But there is no mirth behind it, this time.

“A long, long time ago, there was someone,” Dareios admits, and there is a certain seriousness to his voice which does not show up very often. He stares through them as he answers, and it is obvious that his mind is with his memories in that moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry—”

Dareios shakes his head, called back to reality. “There is nothing you need to be sorry for. Things change, and so do Pokémon. And nowadays, my true love is the treasures I can hoard.” And then, like clockwork, a snicker follows. It’s there to ease the situation, most definitely. To show that everything is alright, and that there is no need to worry about him.

Still, there remains a certain tension, which is luckily broken the moment Bidoof reappears. The letter sticks out from his neck fur, a place Bidoof often keeps smaller items in. Darkrai is not sure whether he should prefer it to him keeping the letter between his teeth or not.

“Got… Got the letter… Right here!” He huffs at he arrives at their side, very much out of breath.

Darkrai slowly reaches out and plucks the letter from his fur. As Bidoof said, besides his name written on the outside, incorrectly rendered as “Darze the Daskall”, there is nothing. The paper is extremely yellowed, appearing mostly brown, in fact. The edges are uneven, and it reminds Darkrai of something, although he does not know, what.

It becomes clear once he opens it. The supposed letter is a single sheet of paper, folded in on itself; and the first thing greeting Darkrai on the inside is a wanted poster. He blinks, needing a moment to take that in. This is an actual wanted poster, of a Phanpy which is seemingly wanted for ‘intimidation, violent behaviour, illicit possession of a weapon, and just all around bad behaviour’. And written on top of all that is the letter’s actual message, in barely legible footprint runes.

It is probably meant to read, “Niid to tu talk. Weri sun. Miit on bich, afta sun son is gon. At nait taim.”

The letter is an affront to writing and penmanship, to put it simply.

Even more annoying is that it seems like either the set-up for a badly thought-out trap, or… an actual love letter. If Darkrai had not had the displeasure of reading a letter by Team Skull already, he might have thought them responsible, and of course, they could still be – he only knows the penmanship of one of them.

But he does not truly believe them to be smart enough to change their writer.

And besides that, the three seem to have been absent from Treasure Town for a few weeks now, at least according to local talk. They at least have not been seen during those weeks, and while most living in Treasure Town will try to stay polite, it is apparent that Team Skull is not missed.

Darkrai does still want to properly beat them up, of course, but he will take their current absence as the blessing it is.

But in any way, it makes it very unlikely that any of the three was the one to write the letter.

But who else could it be? Darkrai, unfortunately, has not a single clue. Another Legendary is very unlikely, seeing as only three (or, technically four, he guesses) Legendaries know that Darkrai hides himself behind the illusion of Darcy. Moreover, all other Legendaries, even including the ones who do not know what Darkrai is up to, are literate. To varying degrees, of course, but none are as bad at writing as this writer must be.

So either a badly planned out trap by someone who is barely literate, or a love letter for whom the same is true.

Or, of course, someone who wants to meet him for another strange reason.

Darkrai breathes out heavily.

This letter is proving itself to be more trouble than he is willing to deal with right now.

“So, what’s written in the letter?” Pearl asks, ever curious.

“Nothing truly worth mention,” Darkrai tells her, but the moment her face falls, because of Darkrai once again seemingly keeping a secret, he decides on another course of action. “Here.”

And with that, he hands the letter to her. Pearl grabs it, immediately unfolding and then staring at it in obvious disbelief. “That’s a… wanted poster?”

“The message is written on it, yes.”

Pearl’s eyebrows scrunch up. “The… Across the portrait?”

“Indeed.”

“… I don’t know that writing system.”

Darkrai snorts. “I am afraid you do.”

Looking at him, she objects. “No, I’m pretty sure I don’t, unless it’s footprint runes.”

Darkrai gives no verbal answer. Instead he just raises his eyebrow.

“No,” Pearl states, and then, “What the fu…dge.” She stares more intently at the letter, Grovyle and Celebi both looking over her shoulder. Grovyle’s face is a grimace of disgust. Celebi is very obviously trying not to laugh.

“What’s it say?” asks Bidoof, just a bit too small to read the letter from where Pearl is holding it. She might have had a growth spurt, now that Darkrai looks at her. She seems to be at least only slightly smaller than Celebi, but then again, Celebi herself is quite small.

Darkrai is just about to tell Bidoof about postal privacy, when Dareios takes the word, instead. “Is Sunflora not still waiting for you, young Bidoof?”

Bidoof yelps. “Oh! Oh golly! She is! I overlooked the time!”

And without even waiting for any answers, he has turned around and starts running towards the watering hole again, a hurried “See you guys later!” exclaimed over his back.

“That was quick,” Pearl summarizes, and Darkrai throws Dareios a ‘might be interpreted as thankful’ gaze.

Then, Pearl looks at Darkrai. “I really can’t read it, Darcy. I can barely read my own writing, and this is somehow worse.”

A snicker escapes Darkrai, and immediately, he throws Dareios an angry glare. Look at him! Spending not even half an hour next to the ghost and already, he is getting into this bad habit again!

Dareios looks very elated.

“Does it say that someone wants to talk? At night time?” Grovyle asks, something resembling a scowl on his face. It might not be, tough, and instead just whatever emotion he feels at having to read that mockery of a letter. Darkrai understands.

“It does. As far as I can decipher it, it is meant to say ‘Need to talk. Very soon. Meet on beach, after sun is gone. At nighttime.’ And no,” he immediately adds, throwing Celebi a warning glare, “That does not make it a love letter.”

Celebi pouts.

“There is no name written on it?” Dareios asks, to which Darkrai shakes his head. “None. I have not the faintest clue who wrote the letter, unless they are the Phanpy whose wanted poster was used.”

Grovyle looks at the poster again. “In which case you probably shouldn’t meet them.”

Darkrai nods.  “Exactly. But the mystery writer will have to wait, anyways.” Seeing Pearl and Celebi’s surprised faces, he explains, “I do not plan on staying in Treasure Town until nightfall just to perhaps meet someone who either wants to have a private talk, or laid out a very bad trap. They already waited some days. If they even want to still meet, they can wait longer.”

“We do need to hurry,” Grovyle agrees. “In fact, we have spent too much time in Treasure Town already, anyways.”

Darkrai keeps from rolling his eye. Uxie gave them about four weeks, at least. Even with their travels to Mesprit and Azelf, things will work out. But Grovyle seemingly does not know the meaning of ‘remaining still for more than two minutes’, which means that he is constantly hying them on.

“Poor old me will have to be left behind, then,” Dareios snickers. “Unless my cousin wants to take over as banker and let me become the explorer instead?”

Slowly, Darkrai turns to look at Dareios, not deigning him with an answer. Dareios looks back just as intently.

Darkrai stares at Dareios. Dareios stares right back.

„What’s happening?“ whispers Celebi from off to the side.

Darkrai ignores her, and instead continues staring at Dareios, who does the same.

“No clue,” whispers Grovyle.

Darkrai stares. So does Dareios.

„I think they are having—”

Darkrai blinks.

“Darn it!”

Dareios snickers. “And another win for me. That goes on the tally.”

“It does not count.”

Dareios stares.

Darkrai scoffs and looks away before he must lose another time.

“Let’s go,” he says instead, turning around. Behind him, he hears the quick ‘goodbyes’ the others tell Dareios, and the ‘goodbye’ he answers with. Darkrai merely raises his hand in a wordless farewell. It is good enough for Dareios, anyways, who shouts back a very enthusiastic, “Stay safe and make sure not to die quite yet!”

And then, they begin their travel towards Azelf and Mesprit.

 

They do not manage to get to Mystifying Forest that day, unfortunately, even though both Grovyle and Darkrai try to hie their group. Celebi, while not quite as over-excitable as she was after initially arriving in the past, still gets side-tracked too easily; and Pearl is just unfortunate enough to be a very tiny Pokémon with very short legs. She keeps up well enough, most of the time; but exhaustion sets in quicker for her than for the rest of them, and she can also just simply not reach the speeds which the rest of them can.

And she also insists on not being carried the entire way, obviously.

As such, they find themselves at the cliffs surrounding Waterfall Cave. A variety of plants grow on them, probably due to the many trickles escaping from cracks in the stones. Most of the water, in fact, gets caught by the plants before it can ever touch the ground, leaving the earth beneath them surprisingly dry. They did still need to search for a place which was dry enough not to force them to carry damp bedrolls tomorrow, but that place was found, and camp was pitched up, and now, they are waiting for dinner.

Well. The others are waiting for it, while Darkrai is the one doing the preparing. They offered to do it, of course; but all of them are, quite simply put, not good at it. The food they make is not bad, per se, but besides being edible, it has nothing else to offer. Creating something which actually tastes good and is a filling meal, fit for travel… No, he does not trust them with that. The one attempt he tasted was enough.

Besides, Darkrai would rather busy himself than take part in their conversations, anyways. Celebi and Grovyle might enjoy hearing Pearl recount the misadventure involving the hidden cave behind the waterfall, and subsequent travel through the air, but Darkrai lived through it once already, which was more than enough.

What a strange episode that had been. And what a pity that none of the gems could actually be taken. While Pearl and Darkrai do not have a shortage of money, anymore – rigorous saving is to thank for that, a skill Darkrai had to learn because a certain someone he was close to in the past has no idea on how to handle money – the guild’s share is still much, much too high.

Soon enough, Pearl’s story is finished, and so is dinner; and with a ravenous appetite, the others leap at their food. Darkrai, as always, remains more reserved. He really hates the sound of vigorous chewing, or of food being torn into, and while the three Pokémon from the future are much better than the guild’s members, the noises they create are still unpleasant. The least he can do is not add to the cacophony.

Pearl is mostly alright, though, probably due to Darkrai’s teachings. It is why he sits down closer to her than to Celebi and Grovyle, who are somewhat opposite to Pearl and him now.

As the hurried eating winds down, and instead becomes the others just picking out their favourite foods from the assorted vegetables Darkrai prepared, a new topic of conversation emerges.

“Hey, Emerald,” starts Pearl, “This… might be a stupid question, but when we were travelling together, you mentioned my… my parents.”

Grovyle, immediately, grows stiff. He does still try to pretend to seem relaxed, but it is very obvious that he is not.

“I did,” he hesitantly confirms. A quick glance in Darkrai’s direction, almost unnoticed, shows just why Grovyle is so hesitant.

“Could you… maybe tell me about them? Or… Or about how we two met. Or what things we did. Or how we even found out how to change the future! Just…” Pearl trails off, very unsure of herself. This is the moment a good friend, a best friend would probably turn to hug her. Darkrai remains seated where he is.

… He does put the hand closer to Pearl on the ground, though, simply because it is more comfortable. That he bumps into Pearl’s flipper as he does so is nothing but an accident, which he does not rectify because it would be too obvious, of course. Like this, their hands just barely touch.

How unfortunate.

“Just,” Pearl repeats herself, “Just anything about me, at all. I… I want to know, before… before all of this is… over.”

Looking at her, Grovyle takes a deep breath. Leaning against him, Celebi does the same, seeming quite apprehensive.

“I… I guess I can tell you some things. But are you sure you want them to be known by everyone here?”

Pearl nods. “I do. I…” She looks at Darkrai. “I don’t think there’s many bad things you could do with that knowledge, even if you betray me again.”

“I won’t—” Darkrai starts, but is interrupted by Pearl immediately.

“Can you promise? That if the circumstances change, and you’ll have to let me die to stay alive yourself, you won’t choose yourself each and every time?”

“I…” Darkrai starts, feeling very bare before her. A lie is on the tip of his tongue, and yet does not pass over his lips.

He looks towards their hands, barely touching. “I… I can promise that I won’t use your past against you.”

That, at least, is the truth. Because she has not yet stopped him, and because he is only using her future to justify his hate for her, and not her past.

He feels disgusting.

“Then that’s all I ask for,” Pearl says, nodding, and finally turning towards Grovyle again. And Darkrai feels awfully caught off balance, feels tingling throughout his entire body, and does not know what to do with that. He thinks about pulling his hand away, but that would be like… like admitting defeat.

“Alright,” Grovyle finally relents. “I mean… you do deserve to know. It’s just that there’s some parts I’m really sure you won’t like.” He takes a deep breath.

“So… I guess I can start with how we met.”

 

 

 

Notes:

Hello, nice to see y'all again!

Getting this chapter to a publish-able state was not easy. I’ll also freely admit, that it feels a bit unbalanced to me, but at some point, you just gotta accept that perfection is unachievable. That being said, I still spent too much time worrying about it. So I do hope you all end up liking it at least a bit haha.

Next chapter will be very cool, and I think you might even have an idea already as to what it will be. I cannot say when it will be posted, but I’ll try to get it out sometime around the middle or end of August.

In personal news, my job is going great (I love it!), I survived exam season and somehow have only gotten perfect grades (for now), and nothing bad happened to me or my family. So, everything's going great.

There were some more things which I wanted to mention, but of course, I did not write them down, so I have now forgotten them. Apologies.

Maybe check out my tumblr? I repost any fanart I get on tumblr there, and also, if I do remember what I wanted to mention, I might do it there. Who knows.

Have a great week!

Edit 03.09.2023: Sooo... uh... yeah. Next chapter's gonna take some more time, I'm sorry! I also apologize for not having answered any comments in... quite a while. I am aiming for the end of September for Chapter 27, but cannot promise anything. The comments will, at the latest, be answered once the next chapter is posted. I am really sorry for this hiatus.

Edit 01.10.2023:
Heyho, everyone. I’m very sorry to have to announce it, but for the foreseeable future, I’ll have to put AVoL on hiatus. I won’t get into the specifics, but a main reason is that writing’s just not working properly for me and hasn’t done so for the last months (it seems I have worked myself into quite a bad writer’s block), and that constantly trying to pressure myself into just, finally, getting something out, is just making stuff worse. There’s some more reasons, but I’d rather not share.

Anyways. I am very sorry for this, but hope you all understand and can forgive me. I don’t know when I’ll be back to publishing semi-regularly.

Also, AVoL WILL be finished. There is no doubt about that. Just, for now, I need a longer pause, hence the hiatus.
With that, I wish you all a good day/week/month. Stay safe.

Chapter 27: Memories of a future past

Summary:

Last Chapter: Celebi, Pearl, Grovyle and Darkrai visited Uxie at Fogbound Lake to gather one of the necessary Time Gears. Uxie told them that they would need the Relic Fragment to reach the Hidden Land, and luckily, Darkrai has already had it in possession for years now; something which seems to prove that he was somewhat chosen for the task of stopping the dark future from every coming to be. Darkrai also learnt that he is considered ‘vogelfrei’ by the other Legendaries, meaning he can theoretically be killed and the perpetrators won’t face any consequences.
Once the group was back in Treasure Town, Darkrai was given a letter by an unknown sender, which he decided to simply ignore. Afterwards, the group set out again to gather the other two Lake Guardians’ gears.

Notes:

Fanart! There’s more fanart! I wish someone would invent new words so I could properly bring across my appreciation of everything you guys keep doing for me <3

First, we have a sad piece by purplependoodles/Candlit. It’s amazing, but TW, it’s suicide related: https://www.tumblr.com/purplependoodles/723520867439706112/she-could-go-to-the-cliffs-not-to-do-anything

Then, to even the sadness out, we have a hilarious “alternate ending” to the prologue by mercykiwidogg: https://www.tumblr.com/mercykiwidogg/724773986562605056/some-late-5-minute-fanart-for-neferirkarekakai-s

The cutest Darcy and Pearl choosing a job you can find drawn by mintange here: https://www.tumblr.com/mintange/726099181779009536/neferirkarekakai-hey-wanna-some

A ‘funi’ work born out of watching Pirates of the Caribbean was created by lestefanmar: https://www.tumblr.com/lestefanmar/730013851775647744/an-idea-came-to-me-while-rewatching-pirates-of-the

A piece only slightly related to A Veil of Lies was drawn by Khorale, depicting the shenanigans some friends and I got into while playing a friendlocke (and also, Darcy died, rip bastard man): https://www.tumblr.com/khorale/734485575068942336/darcy-and-excellibur-at-the-nimbasa-musical

And last but absolutely not least, Darcy and Pearl as drawn by birdcatt/birdkitten! They also shared some art for Stefanmar’s story A Shadow over Haven (which you should absolutely check out if you haven’t):
https://www.tumblr.com/birdcatt/741439821498744832/fanart-for-the-shadow-over-haven-by-lestefanmar

Treecko didn’t really understand a lot of things. He didn’t get why others always tried to attack him, or why there were Pokémon who liked the perpetual darkness, or even why he had to be alone all the time. He really didn’t know or understand a lot of things…

But he did know how to hide.

It had been taught to him from the moment he had hatched. And since then, he’d just gotten better and better at it. He also knew how to fight, a little. Hiding was safer, though. His dad had fought, and now he wasn’t here anymore. But Treecko had been told to hide, and he had, and he was still around.

So, when a Pokémon of a species he’d never seen before got really, really close, he hid. The moment he noticed it – too close, far too close – he jumped up high, and when he landed, he ran, and then, he hid. His hiding place was the knothole of a tree which still had some long-dead leaves, caught in time before they could fall.

The other Pokémon followed behind, slowly walking on two legs, and even with how slow it walked, it got closer and closer to his hiding place. He squeezed in further and further back, until the tree’s uneven surface painfully dug into his back and tail. He couldn’t see anything but the inside of the tree, but that was good, because it meant no one could see him from outside.

The sound of the other Pokémon walking stopped just a bit before his hiding place. Treecko fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut.

Just move on, he thought. Just move on, please.

There was the sound of breathing, of something rustling, but it was all drowned out by the beating of Treecko’s heart.

Move on.

They didn’t move on. Instead, the other Pokémon spoke. “It’s alright, little one,” it told him, still standing right before his hiding place, “I won’t harm you.”

That sounded like a complete and total lie. Treecko didn’t answer, and instead tried to calm his beating heart. Maybe the other Pokémon was just guessing that he was hiding here, so he needed to be as quiet as he could.

That’s what his mom and dad always taught him to do when hiding. ‘Be quiet, breathe evenly and slow, don’t close your eyes. Be prepared to fight if you are found.’

“Won’t you come out?”

Treecko tried to withdraw even further into his nook. He failed.

“It’s alright,” the Pokémon said softly, calmly, friendly, “You can take your time. I’ll just stay here, alright?”

There was movement, then, which sounded like the other Pokémon was sitting down. Not right in front of the tree, but still too close. He dared not move. ‘I’ll stay here’, it’d said. That was more of a threat than a reassurance.

“My name is Tempest,” the Pokémon said, and Treecko was really starting to think that they liked the sound of their own voice, with how much they talked. Didn’t they know that that was dangerous? Everyone could hear where they are!

But they’d also managed to sneak up on Treecko. Maybe they just wanted to lure him into a false sense of secvu-, secrur-, sec-, maybe they just wanted to make him feel safe, but they were lying about it.

“What’s yours?”

Treecko didn’t answer. He was just ‘Treecko’, and he’d continue to be just Treecko forever, probably. His parents hadn’t gotten around to giving him a name before they’d…

But he wouldn’t tell the other Pokémon that.

It didn’t matter, anyways, as they just continued prattling on after a bit of a pause.

“Have you ever heard of a tempest? Apparently, it was a thing which could happen in the past! Strong winds would blow, strong enough to destroy even houses! And sometimes, it would rain – which is when water would fall from the sky.” They laughed. “It sounds very violent, doesn’t it? But I was named after it because my parents hoped that I’d see it happen, one day.”

Treecko hadn’t heard of any tempests, but he’d heard that ‘the past’ was very different from ‘the now’. His parents didn’t live during ‘the past’, and their parents also didn’t, but many, many generations ago, someone did. And they told everyone else stories, and the stories stuck around for longer than the Pokémon who had told them.

“I live close by, in the village. Have you seen it? We call it Stonesthrow.”

He’d seen it, but still didn’t answer. This could still be a very weird strategy to get to eat him.

The village had looked… big, when he passed by. He did try to sneak in once or twice, some days ago, because he got hungry and just… hoped that there would be food. Just a little! He’d never take everything. Just enough so he wouldn’t have to forage the next few days.

The village was surrounded by high walls, which Treecko had climbed easily. But the moment he’d reached the top, someone had spotted him each time, and started shouting, and then, Treecko had decided that it wasn’t worth a possible fight and run away. He hadn’t seen much besides the wall because of that. Some dead trees and what looked like fields had been there, and dots of light everywhere, and what Treecko thought could be houses. He’d never lived in one, and only knew of them from stories his parents had told him.

“Some of the others living there saw you wandering around on your own. So I thought I’d look for you. You seem young, and it’s dangerous out here, but you probably know that already.”

Treecko snorted. Of course he knew! Everyone knew! He might not understand the world, but he knew that it was dangerous.

The next moment, he clasped his hands over his snout. No! He shouldn’t make any sound! The Pokémon outside might still want to eat him or something! He tried to move further into the knothole, but once had to realize that this was truly the end, and there was no more room.

But the other Pokémon didn’t try to reach into the knothole. They didn’t even move. Instead, they just continued talking to themselves while pretending to talk with Treecko.

“How old are you, Treecko?” they asked. Treecko stayed quiet again. He didn’t like that they had figured out what Pokémon he was, but that he didn’t even know what type they were.

When Treecko was quiet for too long, he heard them move, and his heartbeat picked up again. But when they started talking, he realized that, surely, they hadn’t moved closer. Just changed how they were sitting, maybe.

“Are you hungry?”

Treecko was, but he didn’t admit to it.

“I don’t have any food on me right now. But if you came to Stonesthrow with me, I could give you something?” Treecko didn’t trust that, at all. All this talking was just to get him out of the knothole. And once he got out, he would be the dinner.

But the two-legged Pokémon tried to make it seem like something else. “I just feel bad leaving a young kid out here, all alone.”

“I’m not,” Treecko spoke for the first time. He knew that, technically, he was a kid. But he thought that since he didn’t really get to be like a kid who just played and cried the days away, it shouldn’t count.

“Not a kid?” the other Pokémon asked, their voice as calm as it had been through the entire conversation. He kinda liked that. They didn’t talk to him like a kid, except for that one comment just now.

Treecko just hummed, suddenly scared because he’d answered and comfort-, confin-, confirmed! confirmed that he was in the knot hole, but also, they probably couldn’t reach him. So, maybe, a tiny bit of talking wasn’t so bad.

“I think you are, but it’s alright if you don’t see yourself as one. I’ve got a daughter at home, you know? She’s five, and always insists that she’s all grown up already.” They laughed. It didn’t sound completely happy. “And she didn’t even have to live on her own, like you do.”

After a short pause, they continued talking. “Did you know that in the past, counting years was supposedly easy? Because there was a thing called ‘day’, where the sky would be bright, and…”

The other Pokémon prattled on, again.

Treecko remained quiet, but inside his chest, something started to settle. He didn’t know what it was, just as he didn’t know a lot of things. But slowly, he started to think that, maybe, this Tempest wasn’t all too bad. They seemed… friendly. And not friendly in the way where they wanted to trick him outside to eat him, but… but friendly like his mom and dad were.

He was even considering finally coming outside, because food sounded really, really great right now. Even just a tiny bit.

But suddenly, there was another voice, interrupting the Pokémon before the tree. Their voice sounded like it was coming from far away, and it was really deep. Way deeper than the other Pokémon – Tempest. He could think of them as Tempest.

“There you are! Dear, we got so worried when you stayed out so long, and you didn’t take the badge with you—”

Tempest sounded like they were moving, standing up.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I overlooked the time. I only wanted to take a quick look around, but ran into our little climber.” And then, after a short pause, their voice suddenly more severe, they said, “Did you have to bring…?”

“She insisted on it.”

A third voice joined in, higher than the other two. They sounded like an actual child.

“We are looking for you, mama!” they cried, and Treecko thought that this might be the daughter Tempest mentioned. “Cause papa said, uh, staying outside is not safe. Not for grown-ups, and espeh-, eshpesh-,”

“Especially,” the one with the low voice said.

“Eshpehsially,” the tiny one attempted to repeat, “Not for little ones. And then I was scared, cause you stood outside alone—”

“Stayed, Pearl,” Tempest corrected.

“Yeah, you stayed outside alone, and I got scared. And papa says that I’m brave, so we searched for you.”

“I said that if she wanted to be brave, we’d look for you.” the deeper voice explained. “But I made sure we kept close to the walls.”

“You shouldn’t have taken her outside, Lambert,” Tempest said, but quieter than before. Treecko almost couldn’t hear her.

“We can’t keep her cooped up forever,” the deeper voiced one answered, also quieter, and for that, Treecko had to really try to hear what he said.

Tempest huffed and said nothing.

It was obvious that the one with the highest voice was their kid, who probably hadn’t really listened as closely as Treecko had, because she just prattled on again. “You gotta come home now, cause papa cooked, and I learnt how to count to 30, and I can even get to 31!”

“Then I guess we’ll have to go home now,” Tempest agreed, and Treecko heard them turn. When they next spoke, their voice sounded closer than before. Or maybe… her voice? ‘Mama’ was a name for ‘mom’, wasn’t it?

“Do you want to join us, Treecko?”

Once again, he didn’t answer. It was bad enough when it was just one other Pokémon, but there were three now and… and Treecko would never get scared or anything, but three were… too many.

“Or, if you want, I can come back later—”

“Tomorrow,” the one with the deep voice interrupted.

After a loud sigh, Tempest repeated, “Tomorrow, and bring you some food. Do you want that?”

Treecko remained as far away hidden as he could, but also forced out a very tiny, very quiet, “Yes.”

“Alright,” she said, sounding very friendly, ”Then I’ll come to this tree again, tomorrow. You stay safe until then, alright?”

Treecko nodded. He would. He was good at hiding, and he was even better at staying safe.

He heard Tempest move, further away from his tree, closer to her family. There was some whispering, too quiet to be made out this time. But he couldn’t hear any of them actually leave, and so, he stayed hidden. The knothole was a good hiding place. Maybe he’d stay here until Tempest returned with food.

Unless… unless she still wanted to eat him. Maybe he should hide in another tree instead. Yeah. Yeah, that sounded smart. He’d look for another tree once the other Pokémon were gone.

And suddenly, there was a loud sound way too close to him, a sound like something knocking against the tree.

“Hullo? Hi? Can you hear me? Are you up there?” It was the voice of the child, high-pitched, but quiet. And without pause they – she? – continued, “Are you a speaking tree? I know there’s speaking trees. I dunno what they are called.”

Treecko tried to retreat, but the nook was still too small. He wished he’d been born as a ghost type. Then, he’d just be able to flee through trees when things got too dangerous.

Well, if things went very, very wrong, there was always the chance that he could still become a ghost type.

“I’m Pearl. I’m a human.”

The knocking continued, and in horror, Treecko realized that this ‘Pearl’ must be climbing the tree. His heart beat fast, and even faster. The knocking got closer.

“Can you speak?”

“Stay away!” he forced out, actually getting scared now.

The knocking stopped, at least for a moment. But then…

“You can speak! So you’re in that hole, right? I know cause I like climbing trees. When they have holes, I like hiding. Mama and papa teach me how to hide real good! Do yours also teach you?”

Treecko couldn’t get away, couldn’t retreat, and then, suddenly, there was a weird, five-digit paw in his hole. There was nowhere else to hide, and this ‘Pearl’ was just getting closer, and—

He panicked.

Without thought, he bit the paw. The child shouted, and Treecko didn’t manage to let go in time, and suddenly, he was pulled out of the nook, and falling, and his mouth was still closed around the paw. He landed on Pearl, who shouted again, and then, started crying.

Heavy feet stomped close, and when Treecko could finally let go, two bigger versions of the one he’d just bit stood before him. He jumped in fright, tried to climb up the tree again, or even just run away to somewhere, anywhere, but someone  caught him by the neck. He tried to hit them, and tried to turn around and bite them, but nothing helped, and he couldn’t get away—

“Pearl, what happened?!”

The child continued crying. Treecko would feel bad, except he kept trying to free himself, tried to bite and scratch and hit, but whoever was holding him didn’t even react to any it. They just grabbed him by his neck and he knew that he didn’t even have teeth to hurt someone with but he tried to bite, and he knew that he couldn’t really hurt anyone with his tail unless he used the right attack but still he tried to hit someone, something and—

“Treecko!” someone cried, and he knew that voice, knew that it belonged to Tempest, “Treecko, calm down! Pearl didn’t mean any harm, none of us want to hurt you.”

Treecko tried to free himself again, and failed. Finally, he looked at Tempest.

“I swear,” she told him. “I swear, Treecko. Pearl was just curious.”

She had two eyes, and arms, and legs. There was some black fluffy fur on her head, and a weird fur on the rest of her body, lying on top of itself. She had the same five-digit paws her kid had, and they were almost the same brown colour.

If Treecko had looked her up and down even more, he’d have seen the tiny child hiding behind her. But he did not.

Tempest looked at Treecko, right into his eyes. Slowly, she closed her eyes, then, opened them again.

Treecko didn’t relax, not really, but he tried hitting whoever was holding him.

“Lambert, you can let him go. He’s not gonna hurt any of us if we don’t hurt him.”

“He bit Pearl—”

“Because she was getting too close to his hiding place!” She took a deep breath, put the paw she’d raised to her head down again. This time, Treecko followed it with his eyes. The paw ended up hanging down next to her, and peeking out from behind it was only what Treecko thought must be Pearl.

“He’s just a scared kid.”

There was a sigh, and then, Treecko felt himself being lowered, until his paws touched the ground again. The moment they did, he moved to run away, to hide, to never let anyone ever see him again – but his legs moved once, twice, and then, they just… folded. He tried to lift himself, and just fell over. And then… Then, he could feel himself start shaking, and suddenly, tears were welling up in his eyes.

“Oh no, Treecko, it’s alright,” Tempest told him, kneeling to be at least a bit closer to Treecko’s much smaller height. “It’s okay. Just let it all out, and once you’re done, you can hide again—” She interrupts herself to look behind.

Her voice was stern when she spoke again, not the calming words she’d just told Treecko. “Pearl. Stay away.”

“I’m sorry,” the child hiccupped, and came closer, not at all respecting her mother’s words. “I didn’t wanna—”

“Pearl. I will not repeat myself. Stay away.”

“But he’s crying—”

“So you stay away now!”

“But I’m sorry—”

“He knows.”

Behind Tempest, Treecko could see the other child. There were tears in her eyes, and suddenly, Treecko felt bad for her. She seemed a bit younger than him (he didn’t know how old he was, but he knew that he was way older than five), and she was probably also a bit more stupid. Because ‘wisdom comes with age’, as his mum told him.

And so, he finally spoke, if only to calm the actual child. “S’okay. I’m strong. I can take it.”

Immediately, the tearful frown turned into a grin, and then, a smile.

She waddled up to him, the way she moved not at all graceful. This time, Tempest didn’t tell her to stay away.

“I’m Pearl,” she told him again.

Taking a deep breath, he answered, “I’m Treecko.”

And then, just when Treecko thought he had her figured out, Pearl asked, “Can I hug you now?”

Much too loud, Celebi squeals. “You never told me you two were so cute!”

She’s flapping her wings rapidly, although she is not quite taking off, yet.

“We were kids,” Grovyle states, deadpan, although Darkrai can clearly see the blood shooting to his cheeks. “Who scared each other.”

“Yes, but you did it in a cute way!”

Darkrai rolls his eye. Sometimes, he really questions why Celebi has to be like that. She has some good sides, he can admit to himself, but most of the time they are drowned out by how annoying she is. Ridding himself of her will be wonderful, he is sure.

“And you never mentioned that you bit Pearl!” Celebi breaks out in giggles.

This time, Grovyle actually seems a bit embarrassed, as he crosses his arms and looks away from Celebi’s grinning face and into the fireplace burning merrily before him. “It’s not like I had any teeth to hurt her with.”

Celebi just laughs and finally settles down again, this time quite a bit closer to Grovyle than she started out at. Darkrai, however, accurately reminds Grovyle, “You don’t have any teeth for that now, either.”

Grovyle harrumphs. “I do.”

“You do not,” Darkrai rebukes, making Grovyle exhale breath in annoyance yet again.

“Of course I do. Just because they are small does not mean that I don’t have any.” And then, he uncrosses his arms and sends a smug grin towards Darkrai. “And as if you are one to talk, ghost.”

“I have teeth!” Darkrai immediately defends himself, only to realize that, of course, he appears as a Duskull, still. But even Duskull have teeth. “Three, in fact.”

“That’s just your mask!” Grovyle objects to the truth, “And you don’t even use them.”

“Use them for what? Eating? Because I assure you—”

“I don’t have teeth!” interrupts Celebi, another incessant giggle following her declaration. “And neither does Pearl! So calm down, boys, you both have very scary, very useful teeth, and are therefore the coolest guys around.”

Pearl snorts. “Yeah. You have the most teeth around, no need to argue about the specifics. Dentists already love you.”

Grovyle rolls his eyes, but can’t quite hide the amused smile creeping unto his face. Darkrai just scoffs. He is the only one here who has actual teeth, and they are much sharper than any the others could ever hope to possess.

That conversation finished, Pearl speaks up to ask something. “So, uh, did I end up hugging you?” She seems to be very, very embarrassed. And yet, she is smiling. Embarrassed and amused. What a strange mix.

“You did,” Grovyle confirms. “And then I started crying because the last time I had been hugged was by my father, shortly before he died.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” Grovyle interrupts Pearl immediately. He stares at the empty space before the flames, and when he continues, he sounds very unemotional. “Death is… very common in the future. In fact, I was lucky to have had my parents for long enough to even remember them. And I was lucky enough to… pretty much get parents twice.”

“So… Tempest and Lambert were…?” Pearl hesitantly starts to ask.

Grovyle nods, looking Pearl in the eyes again. “Yeah. Your parents. After everything I just told you about, there was some more talking between the two of them, which I don’t remember all that much, and then, I accompanied you all to your village and… well, I started living with you.”

“Pearl’s parents are dead, are they not?”

Everyone stares at Darkrai. He scoffs and crosses his arms. “What? The way you talk about them certainly seemed to strongly imply it.”

“Yes,” Grovyle says, still a bit miffed, “They are. But there are more tasteful ways to ask such a question.”

Darkrai keeps from rolling his eye, this time. Before he can throw back a snarky comment at Grovyle, Pearl speaks up.

“I mean, I already know it anyways, and I’m guessing Celebi does, as well. So it makes sense for Darcy to also be brought up to date.”

“You knew?” Darkrai repeats, caught off guard. She did not remember, did she? No, she could not. She must not.

Pearl nods and explains, “Emerald told me after we’d arrived in the past, while Celebi and you were still missing. Because I asked a lot of questions, obviously. But until now, he wasn’t willing to tell me more than that they are dead.”

And with that last sentence, she turns towards Grovyle again, who sighs heavily. Before he answers, he repositions himself, until he sits with one leg lying on the ground, the other pulled close to his body.

“Yeah, yeah… It’s just… Some things are nice to talk about, like when we met. But other things… just aren’t.”

Pearl sighs. “I get that. But… These are my memories, Emerald. And I probably won’t ever get them back. But I still want to have at least an idea of who I was, before I washed up on that beach.”

“Yeah… Yeah, alright. Alright. You convinced me already.” Grovyle collects himself. “Then I guess I should go on, huh?”

After Pearl nods, he continues his story. “So, I started living with your family, and we two became very close. Lambert told me at some point that Tempest and he had hoped that exactly that would happen. It’s how things were done, in Stonesthrow – it was a human village first, but overtime, Pokémon who were wandering past and not intent on killing those inside would befriend one of the humans and stay.”

“Stonesthrow was the name of the village where we lived, right?”

“The one and only,” Grovyle agrees. “Although it really wasn’t much of a village, to be honest…”

Stonesthrow, as Treecko had come to learn, was a very, very tiny village. At least when counted against what had been possible in the past – supposedly. To Treecko, it was still an amazingly big settlement. Five families lived there, made up of both Pokémon and humans.

Humans, as Treecko had been told, were apparently not Pokémon. He didn’t really understand why – he’d been told many reasons, but none really made sense. In the end, he’d just had to accept that the separation was there. It was stupid though, in his opinion.

Pearl and he were the only actual kids in Stonesthrow. There were some teenagers, and some barely-adults, for both the Pokémon and humans, but no actual kids. There’d been Thistle, and Aka Begi, for a while, but they… Well. Pearl and Treecko were also just barely kids anymore, according to themselves. You officially became a teenager at thirteen, right? So, really, Pearl would only remain a kid for like… two more years, and Treecko didn’t know his actual age, but he felt as if he was older than Pearl. At least a bit.

But it didn’t matter to the teenagers, who kept making fun of them for being “the babies”, some more lovingly and others just to annoy them.

Anyways.

Pearl and her parents – and also Treecko – had been one of the smallest families before Treecko came along. Pearl’s dad was great friends with a Crobat named Talor, the same way Pearl and Treecko were friends, but Pearl’s mom had no Pokémon she called her partner. In a whispered conversation not intended for Pearl and Treecko’s ears, he’d learnt that she’d actually had one, but that they’d died some years ago. Neither he nor Pearl had ever brought up that they knew about it.

Asking questions about things they shouldn’t know, they’d learnt, was generally a bad idea.

Besides their small family of five, there was Lothair’s family, one of the guards of the village, who also were only five people. Then there was old Fern and her daughter, the village’s doctor, and their two partners, who made up a small family of four.  Jahangir and Bikijan, siblings, had four Pokémon partners in total, and were thus the second biggest family. And the biggest family was that of the village’s elder, Fatma, counting ten people.

So, if counting all that together… Treecko tried using his hands to guide him along with the addition, but was once again made aware by how much fewer fingers he had than Pearl. He had his feet to also use, though – for Pearl, they were generally covered, either by socks, or by socks and shoes. After two rounds of counting – the second to make sure he hadn’t done it wrong – Treecko came to the conclusion that there was exactly the same amount of humans and Pokémon, and in total, there were thirty people.

And that, already, was the entirety of Stonesthrow. It did not matter to Treecko how often he was told that it wasn’t really big, because to him, it was.

And to him, it was the best place he’d ever lived in. Sometimes, he’d feel bad for loving Stonesthrow more than he had ever loved the places he’d stayed at with his parents, but at the same time… At the same time, he was sure they wouldn’t be angry with him for that. He was sure that, wherever they went after they died, they’d be happy that Treecko had found a place with peoples who would not attack him, or try to kill and eat him. No, instead they’d give him food, and a place to sleep, and Pearl and her father would give him crushing hugs when he needed them, and Tempest would give him conversations no one else would, and they all gave him… they all gave him so much… love.

“Emerald?” Pearl asked, leaning forward to get a better look at his face.

That was another thing he’d been given. A name, just for himself, a name he could make sure no one but Pearl and her parents and Talor and Treecko himself used. It felt almost like a reliquary, something he dared not even tell others about, something he needed to keep hidden to keep it pure.

… He just liked having a name.

Smiling at his friend, he told her, “Everything’s okay. Just thinking.”

They were sitting on the roof of the communal house, a place they were very much not supposed to be. Especially not Pearl, with her hands and feet which were not really made for climbing like Treecko’s were. But they were young, and the roof was fun, and so, they didn’t care. It gave them a great view of the entire village and its surrounding walls as well. Right before them was the central plaza, lit up by the many lanterns placed everywhere. Keeping them alight – or lighting them anew, for the lanterns a bit further off, to not waste too much oil – was a task given to the teenagers, and rotated weekly. The ground here was actually cobbled, something only done here and on the one central street leading into Stonesthrow.

Sometimes, Treecko tried to imagine a village which had multiple streets, and not just pretty much all houses assembled around one plaza, but his imagination always fell flat. Would there then just be more plazas, next to each other? More streets with more houses alongside them? He didn’t know.

From their place on the roof, they could easily see the roof of their own house, right next to the communal house. Treecko could make the jump. Pearl couldn’t. Yet. When no adults were there to scold them, Pearl and he would always practise – on the ground, though. The one nasty fall Pearl’d had taught them well enough.

Much further away, and not on the plaza, were the two guard posts built right next to the wall surrounding the village. Most days, only one was manned though, like today. Or maybe, it should be called ‘womanned’, since it was actually aunty Matilda and her partner Aegislash keeping watch right now, so that no bad Pokémon or human could get in.

Treecko groaned out loud. That’s a joke Lambert would make, and it was horrible that he got Treecko infected with his bad humour.

“Thinking ‘bout what?” Pearl asked, “If you’re groaning like that, it must be bad. Or annoying”

“About nothing, really,” he admitted. Pearl seemed disappointed with the answer, and so, he tacked on, “Just… remembered one of your father’s bad puns.”

Pearl huffed, and in an imitation of a deep voice, said, “They aren’t bad, you just don’t understand perfection.”

It was the answer Lambert would always give, and for a few seconds, both of them managed to remain stony-faced. But then, Treecko snorted, and that meant that Pearl also couldn’t hold it in anymore, and they laughed.

Hurriedly, she clamped her hands over her mouth. Noise carried very well through the village.

“I don’t want mama or papa noticing us,” she whispered.

“If they did,” Treecko reassured her, “We wouldn’t be up here anymore, anyways.”

“True,” Pearl agreed, taking her hands away from her mouth, yet still keeping to a whisper. “But I’m pretty sure I saw papa notice us that one time, but also, he didn’t say anything.”

Treecko shrugged. “Could be,” he admitted, because Lambert tended to be easier on them most of the time. Tempest was harsher, which was… annoying. Treecko did understand that she just wanted them to be safe, but still. She always went out alone. That was a bit hyper-, hypno-, ah, whatever.

Pearl opened her mouth, clearly about to answer, when something caught her eyes. Instead of answering, her mouth remained open, and she stared towards the gate. Treecko followed her gaze.

The gate to the village was, next to the plaza, the best lit part of Stonesthrow. The lanterns there were never allowed to go out, and there were also easy. The villages guards even kept oil in their stations, to keep them burning even if the one responsible for keeping them running forgot about it. Like this, it was always easy to see people going out or coming in, unless they climbed the walls or dug their way under them.

That was also what was going on right now – someone was trying to get into the Village.

But auntie Matilda had stopped them, which was weird. Because it didn’t seem to be the usual “hello, welcome back, let’s chat for a moment” talk, but something else instead. Aegislash was floating behind her, the blade exposed for once.

“Who is that?” Pearl asked.

Treecko stayed silent and frowned, looking at the person. They were wearing a long cape, which hid most of their body, even their head. Treecko couldn’t see beneath the hood, but just its form was already weird. Way too wide for a human. Unless they had a strange hairstyle.

“I’m… not sure.”

They were taller than auntie Matilda, which wasn’t really that hard, but still, not even half the village managed it. It could be Konrad, maybe? But Treecko was pretty sure he saw him before they climbed to the roof, and he couldn’t recall seeing him leave.

Maybe Zeynep, then? But she wasn’t supposed to come back for the next three days. And the stranger really didn’t look like her, their form all wrong. Besides, unless something really, really bad happened, Zeynep’s friend Boldore would be with her.

It could be Jahangir, Treecko supposed. He didn’t come out of his house often – only when he needed new stuff to tinker with – and then, maybe he’d wear a strange cape like that? But… that still didn’t feel right. He’d also be followed by someone, at least. Maybe Starly or Tinkatink.

“Do you suppose it’s a…” and for the last word, Pearl’s voice became a whisper, “Stranger?”

Treecko didn’t answer, but instead stood up to get a better look. Pearl immediately reached for his hand and pulled him back down.

“Emerald!” she hissed, “Roof!”

She was right to caution him, but he didn’t regret standing up. Because else, he’d not have seen everything he just did.

“It’s definitely a Pokémon,” he told his friend. “They had a tail. And super low, wide hips.”

“A Pokémon?” echoed Pearl, with wide eyes. “I mean, I guess Quilava has a tail…”

“They are way too big to be Quilava. ‘Sides, why would she wear that weird cape?”

Pearl hummed and then made a decision.

“Let’s get down,” he whispered back.

And so, it was decided, curiosity winning out against any fear they could have had in the first place. Treecko was on the ground in the matter of a few seconds. Pearl, as always, needed longer. But she’d gotten way better at climbing, he noticed offhandedly.

And after that, the sneaking begun. Because if it wasn’t Konrad, or Zeynep, or Jahangir, then that meant that Pearl and Treecko probably had no business getting involved. Which, in turn, meant that if they did want to get involved, they needed to do it away from prying eyes.

The path leading up to the guard station was left empty on purpose. Sure, there was Jahangir and Bikijan’s house on one side, but that was further away – “in case something explodes”, as everyone always said. It was too far away to hide behind, anyways.  And the bits of grass which somehow managed to grow in small patches here and there didn’t get high enough to hide behind. So there was really only the path, and then, the guard stations, and right between them, the village gate. Next to the path were some fields of low-growing plants, mostly mushrooms, but they also gave no chance to hide.

For the moment, Pearl and Treecko were just looking around the corner of the communal hall, hoping not to be seen. They couldn’t make anything out, yet, although auntie Matilda and the other person were definitely talking. Aegislash was just floating, as usual. Treecko couldn’t remember ever having heard her talk.

“Should we… just walk up to them?” Pearl asked. Her voice made clear that she didn’t think it would be a good idea.

Treecko shook his head. “They’re just gonna send us away.”

Pearl sighed. “Yeah, probably. Except if we tell them that, uh, papa wants something.”

But before she could finish her sentence, the person auntie was talking to just… fainted. Treecko and Pearl only needed to exchange one look, and then, decision made, they ran up to auntie Matilda.

Auntie was leaning down, patting the person’s face, probably trying to get them to respond. And finally, Treecko could get a somewhat good look at the stranger. He had been right, they were definitely a Pokémon. They were covered in yellow and black plates, and had a super impressive tail (and Treecko was not jealous or anything). The weird shape of their hood had been caused by what seemed to be two red and black blades sticking out of their face.

As he and Pearl continued to approach, Aegislash was the first to notice them. She did nothing but narrow her eye.

Mathilda, however, was trying to talk to the strange Pokémon. “Come on, wake up, please. Wake up, you idiot. Fuck’s sake. I don’t need this right now—”

Aegislash put her hand on auntie’s shoulder, who turned to the side and finally noticed the two of them. “Pearl! Treecko!” she said, or maybe, she shouted it a bit. “You have no business being over here, and fuck, you heard me say fuck, don’t repeat that, someone’s gonna kill me—”

Pearl tried to interrupt her. “But we saw what happened and just want to help—”

“You are kids!” Auntie interrupted right back, and then, sighed. “Alright. Sorry for screaming. I guess it’s good you came here, actually. Go and fetch Clove and Zoroark. I think this guy might’ve just collapsed from exhaustion, but I’ve got no clue, I’m no doctor. Especially not for Pokémon. Fuuu-dge.” With her hand, she went through her red hair. “Actually, get Lothair and Ceruledge here, too. We might need them, if we carry him inside. Or if this guy decides to attack.”

The words spoken and a last nod to them, and Pearl and Treecko were off. They knew how to take commands, whether it be ‘help me carry this inside’, or ‘hide, right now’.

The first part of the way, they ran together, although Treecko easily overtook Pearl, and aimed for Georgios’ house, to gather Lothair. It was a bit further away than old Fern’s house, so he left that to Pearl.

In a hurry, he passed first old Fern’s house, then the clinic, and then, already, he was at his destination and rapidly knocking on the door. It was neither Georgios nor Lothair who opened it, but instead their daughter, Berenike. She looked down at Treecko in surprise.

“Oh, Treecko! What are you doing here?”

“Trouble at the gate!” Treecko hurriedly told her. “Some stranger collapsed, and auntie Matilda wants Lothair and Ceruledge to come! He’s a Pokémon, bigger than you, definitely.”

Berenike stared for a moment, then nodded. “Aright.”

She looked away from Treecko, and instead into the house. Raising her voice, she shouted, “Lothair, Charis, there’s some trouble at the gate. Matilda needs you to get there as quickly as possible! An outsider Pokémon is there, knocked out.”

“Alright!” came Lothair’s deep voice from somewhere further in the house, “Give us two minutes!”

“I do not need those minutes,” Ceruledge said from right behind Berenike, making both her and Treecko jump in surprise. For a Pokémon with parts of her body ever-burning, she sure was great at sneaking. Treecko had asked her to teach him multiple times, and a few times, she had even humoured him.

“At the gate?” Ceruledge asked Treecko directly. He nodded.

“Got it.” And with that, she was off. She ran fast, and after watching her for a few steps, Treecko turned towards Berenike again.

“I’m gonna catch up with the others!” he told her and turned around.

“No, Treecko, wait—”

But already, he had run off, towards old Fern’s house. Standing at their door was Pearl, and just as Treecko reached them, Clove walked out of the door. He almost ran into her, but averted his course at the last second, and instead half-crashed into Pearl, who yelped in pain, and maybe a bit of indignance.

“Careful, you two,” Clove chastised, but in that friendly tone she always managed to have.

Treecko shook himself. “I’m okay!” he told her, and Pearl easily agreed, “And I’m, too!”

Clove breathed out in relief. “Alright, good, because I can’t let auntie wait any longer. And you two are going to go home now, understood?”

“Exactly,” said a voice from behind Treecko. Turning as quick as he could, he stared at Berenike, who’d apparently followed him. Her arms were folded, but she wasn’t looking at either Pearl or Treecko. Her eyes were fixed on Clove, and whatever she saw, it seemed to be enough, because she finally nodded.

“Alright. I’ll make sure Lothair gets there soon.”

And with that, she turned around, back to her own home.

Pearl and Treecko remained where they were. Treecko didn’t have to do the whole nodding thing with Pearl to know that she also didn’t want to pass up the chance of finally being involved in something.

“This might be dangerous,” Zoroark said, as he came up from behind Clove, carrying her doctor’s bag. Its brown colour stood out strongly against his white fur. “Go home. Tell Tempest and Lambert about it, instead of endangering yourselves.”

For a moment, Pearl stared at Zoroark, but then, with a sigh, she nodded. Unnoticed by Clove and Zoroark went her fingers, crossed behind her back. Treecko nodded and did the same.

“Good,” Clove said, and, “Then, off with you now!”

And without ensuring that they actually went home, she closed the door, turned around and hurried towards the guard post. For a few seconds, Treecko and Pearl just stood before the closed door, and then, Pearl, holding a finger to her lips to caution Treecko, turned to move towards the building next to old Fern’s house, from where they couldn’t see the guard station – but also couldn’t be seen by the adults gathering there. Treecko pointed at Georgios’ house, trying to tell Pearl that Lothair was supposed to come out soon. She nodded, easily understanding him (as she always did), and continued moving over to the clinic. Quietly, they made their way around the building, until they were at its back.

It'd be way harder to see them here – old Fern and Georgios’ houses were arranged in a wide triangle with the clinic, and the backside only overlooked the fields within the village (growing mostly asparagus and mushrooms, and some strange berry variants which didn’t hate the eternal dark), as well as the ruins of a house which hadn’t been inhabited in… decades, probably. There were also less lanterns, and one had even gone out. If Fatma got wind of that, she’d scold her grandson quite a lot… Which was useful to remember, just in case Yaşar would be the one to find them. Blackmail still worked on him.

And so there, at the backside, they remained for a few moments, until they heard the door of Georgios’ house open and close. The hurried footsteps moved away soon enough. They could hear Lothair’s voice, although he was too far away for Treecko to understand just what he said.

Which meant that Pearl and him could safely whisper to each other.

Pearl was the first to speak, as usual. “We probably shouldn’t just walk up to them, right?”

“We shouldn’t.” Treecko shook his head. “They’re just gonna send us away again.”

Pearl sighed. “Yeah.” She rubbed her nose. “Hey, you think they’re gonna bring the stranger to the clinic? Cause… if they do, we cooouuuld just stay here.”

“There are windows,” Treecko continued the thought, the ‘so we could overhear things’ implied.

“They’re closed, though,” Pearl said after a glance at the windows.

Treecko stared at them as well, and then back at Pearl. “I mean… the door is always open.”

They shared a glance, and then, a nod. Understanding each other without words was easy.

Carefully, he took the lead, walking on all fours – it would be easier to not be seen when he was lower to the ground, and also easier to stay quiet. Behind him, Pearl followed, in a half-crouch. She was also good at sneaking, something Tempest taught her. Sneaking was different for humans – they needed to place their feet slowly, and sideways, and roll them in a way Treecko couldn’t imitate at all.

Luckily, there was no one on the plaza right now, something which could change very easily – both Berenike and old Fern knew that there was something going on by now, at least a bit, and would probably go outside to find out more soon enough. Old Fern wouldn’t hear Pearl and Treecko, of course, but she could see perfectly fine. And her partner Mudkip could hear them easily. Berenike and Quilava might also hear them, and she even saw Treecko try to run off. And Georgios was probably also still in there.

Not to think about the rest of the village. Only few were outside the walls, right now, and, well. Sound travelled. So someone would check out the gate soon enough, probably.

Better hurry, then.

Luckily, the clinic’s door really was unlocked almost all the time, the medicine inside free to be taken by whoever needed it. One cabinet, which held ‘stronger stuff’ (Lambert’s explanation), only Clove and Zoroark had access to. Which made sense.

The door was also unlocked that day, and carefully, Treecko pulled it open – just a tiny bit, though, barely enough space to let him and Pearl get inside. Once they were inside the building, Pearl pulled it closed again.

It was completely dark in there, none of the many lamps alight. But that wasn’t a problem, because Pearl always had a Shiny Leaf with her. Treecko and her had found it months ago, and with careful handling, it was still in good shape. A Shiny Stone, like some of the adults had, would’ve been better, but for now, the leaf was enough. It didn’t light up a whole room, like the stones could, but it gave enough warm, orange light that they could see where cabinets stood, and where the doors were.

“Should we hide under the beds? Or somewhere else?”

Treecko thought about his friends’ question. “Under the beds should be fine. It’s a super small space, and everyone’s kinda tall.”

“We might only get in trouble if old Fern and Mudkip join in,” Pearl cautioned, but that chance was so slim… With another quick glance at Pearl, their plan was decided.

They took the door to their left, which led them to the small inpatient ward. Or just room, to be honest. There were two beds, each placed against a wall, which left plenty of walking room in between. A cabinet stood between the beds, and above it was a window. Two wardrobes were to the left and right of the door, and Treecko knew that there was a third bed hidden away in one of them. He could remember it getting used one time when a sickness was going through village, and more than two people got a really bad case of it.

He didn’t really remember it well – he was still very fresh to the village back then, and much younger, but he remembered visiting Lambert in the room once, and two more beds being there. He also remembered Thistle lying on one of the beds – Thistle, who’d been the closest in age to Pearl and Treecko. Thistle, who they’d needed to bury a few days later.

Treecko had forgotten the young boy’s face, but he remembered Clove crying a lot as they buried him next to his father.

But the third bed wasn’t outside right now, and instead, it was just the two standard beds. For a second, Treecko though about asking Pearl whether they should separate and hide under different beds, but that thought felt very bad, so he didn’t. Pearl also didn’t ask, and instead, they choose the bed on the right side, and squeezed in underneath it. It was really tight, probably because Pearl had had a growth spurt recently, and Treecko also got a bit taller. But it wasn’t too bad, and they even had enough space to move towards the wall. If the stranger would be put on this bed, the bedframe would probably sink down a bit, effectively locking them in, but… it could be worse. It’s not like they would be found.

Besides, Treecko had way more space than Pearl. He did want to evolve as soon as possible, but right now, being small was good.

And then, they waited. First in silence, and then—

“Did you get a look at the stranger’s face?” Pearl whispered.

“A bit,” Treecko admitted. “The blades looked super cool.”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” said Pearl. “Why do you think a Pokémon like this would come here?”

“Dunno. But I mean, I guess Stonesthrow kinda big? Maybe a new merchant or something?”

“Maybe,” Pearl agreed, but she didn’t really sound too sure. Treecko also wasn’t. Merchants were super rare. He remembers the last one having come by like… three years ago, and never since. The adults were kinda sure something had happened to her.

Pearl opened her mouth to say something else, but that was when Treecko heard a noise from outside.

“Shhh,” he cautioned.

Pearl hurried to put her Shiny Leaf back where its glow couldn’t be seen (which was one of the pockets on her dress), and once that was done, immediately fell still.

Steps were approaching, and then, the door to the clinic was opened with a bang. Just a second after, the same was done to the door of the inpatient ward. The feet stepping inside doubtlessly belonged to Ceruledge, lit up just the slightest bit by her own flame. And then, someone else followed inside behind her – a human, and judging by the shoe size, neither auntie Matilda nor Lothair. Which left only Clove.

With her came more light, probably from a Shiny Stone. After she’d taken two long steps, there was even more light, this time probably a candle or something similar. Even though Clove had just walked in, Ceruledge had probably been the one to light them, since she could easily just use her own flames. Yet still, the shadows beneath the beds remained, luckily for Pearl and Treecko.

“Put him over there, yeah, perfect,” said Clove as Zoroark, auntie Mathilda and Lothair walked in, obviously carrying the stranger between them. Treecko mostly couldn’t see him, but his long, yellow tail with a black tip was dragging over the floor.

‘Over there’ meant the left bed, which was good for Pearl and Treecko, because by the noise it made when the Pokémon was put on it, he was quite heavy. They’d not been squished, but Pearl definitely wouldn’t have been able to move out unnoticed anymore.

Zoroark spoke up, to tell the others, “Someone tell Lothair to put his things next to the other bed. I do not want him to have access to anything in there before we can be sure that it is not dangerous.

It was Clove who related the message, and yet again, Treecko was incredibly glad that Pearl inherited the talent to just… understand him. When the two of them had asked Tempest about it, she had explained that, apparently, for humans to perfectly understand Pokémon was a rare talent back in the past. But over time, it had become more common. Even so, about half the humans in Stonesthrow couldn’t understand the words of Pokémon.

For one heart-stopping second, something dropped down right before Treecko and Pearl. Treecko almost thought they’d been discovered, even though he’d heard Zoroark’s words – but then, just as should have been logical, an unknown bag came to rest right before them.

And Pearl and Treecko were left undiscovered, staring at it. The adults started talking about something or the other, but Treecko couldn’t properly concentrate on it. It was just medical talk, anyways. That had never interested him.

The bag, though, that was really interesting.

It wasn’t actually just a bag, but also the cloak the stranger had been wearing. The cloak looked cool, all ripped and stitched back up, but wasn’t very interesting beside that. But the bag, lying half beneath it, half out in the open…

It was one of those bags you’d hang over one shoulder and have fall against your body on the opposite side. There was a flap with which it could be opened and closed, and the flap was secured with a wooden bead, which had some kind of geometrical design carved into it.

More importantly, the flap could totally be opened by Pearl, right here, right now, with none of the adults any the wiser. It was positioned so that it was half under the bed, anyways, and the light didn’t reach them, and…

But no. No, they couldn’t, Treecko reminded himself.

Next to him, Pearl slowly, carefully, stretched out her hand, trying to reach for the bag.

As quietly as he could manage, yet trying to be faster than Pearl, Treecko did the same. Before Pearl could touch the bag, he’d put his hand around her arm, and carefully tried to pull her back. Pearl still tried to reach for it for a moment, until she realized that their scuffle would get too loud, which was when she relented and pulled her arm back.

Then, she reached out for Treeckos hand, put it around hers, and slowly started forming letters. They’d learnt them from old Fern, to speak with her, and although they were definitely originally made for human hands with five fingers, Treecko knew them well. There were individual signs for each letter, and also signs for entire words. With the words, Treecko had an easier time – they tended to involve his upper body and even face, which made it way easier to make himself understood even with two supposedly missing digits on each hand.

But in the dark, under a bed, they really couldn’t use those signs, and so, individual letters it was.

Slowly, Pearl formed each letter, and Treecko left his hand loosely around hers, feeling them, and tapping the back of her hand after each and every letter to show that he understood.

“T-H-E-Y  W-I-L-L  H-I-D-E I-T,” Pearl spelt. “F-O-R-G-I-V-E  N-O-T  P-E-R-M-I-T.”

It was always like this, with Pearl. ‘Better ask for forgiveness than for permission’ (“She’s got that from you,” Lambert would accuse Tempest of. She’d just laugh at that, and sometimes deny it. Lambert was right, though). Normally, Treecko would argue against it, but this time, she was right. Just this time, though. The adults would hide the bag from them, definitely.

He made the right sign, then, telling her his answer, which was,  “Ok.”

“Do forgive my question,” Darkrai interrupts, not sorry in the slightest. “Do I understand this correctly? Both of you know a version of sign language?”

“Yeah,” Grovyle, for once not seeming all too annoyed, answers. “Or at least, we knew. I guess Pearl might’ve forgotten it alongside everything else.”

“She did not forget her native language, though,” Darkrai thinks out loud, scratching his chin. How, exactly, Pearl’s amnesia worked had never been explored in depth by either of them, and those who might have been able to help had never been told about Pearl having lost her memories in the first place. Well, except for Uxie, but they had been busy asking her many other things.

This leads Pearl to speaking up. “I mean, is there any way we could try whether I remember anything?”

“I mean, we could, but…” Grovyle grimaces. “Not all signs need fingers, but… most do. Especially the individual letters, which we were the most secure with.”

“Oh,” breathes Pearl, staring at her flippers, “Yeah. I… for a moment, I guess I… forgot that I’m a Piplup, now.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence.

“I… know that there’s no reason to really look for it, but… but I kinda wish I could be a human again,” she admits, quietly. She tells it more to herself than to the others, and they are just accidental observers to her realization.

“For what it’s worth,” Celebi says, “To me, you’re still you. You might look different, and not remember most of the stuff Emerald tells us, but that doesn’t change who you are.”

Darkrai thinks he might disagree. What are you without the correct shape, the correct memories? Just the memory of a person who once was to those who knew you, just a blank slate to everyone else.

It’s… pitiful.

He stares at Pearl, her small blue form.

Was… Was this not enough revenge, already? She does not remember who she was. She does not hold the form she once had. Should she not be… forgiven, from all the ways in which she slighted Darkrai?

He imagines just giving up on his aspirations of revenge. Imagines just… living out his days next to Pearl. Adventuring, exploring. Helping Pokémon he does not care about, staying out of the eyes of the Legendaries who want him dead all the while.

It… would be a peaceful life. A pleasant life. He almost wants to accept it as his new future, almost wants to…

…

But that would be… beneath him.

(He would not deserve it.)

No. He cannot show mercy to Pearl, because even as this entirely new person, she got in his way. And for this, he will have to take revenge. It is as he has always done it.

“Yes,” Grovyle says, nodding, reaching out to put his own hand on Pearl’s. She looks up to stare at him with wide eyes.

“It… it doesn’t matter what shape you take, or what your memories look like. You’re still you, Pearl. You’re the Pearl who went through all these things with me, and you’re my… you’re my very best friend. And you’ll always be, until the very end.”

Pearl laughs, and wipes at her eyes. Darkrai decidedly looks away. This… moment is for the three of them to share.

He looks instead at one of the surrounding cliff walls, the plants growing on it, swaying just the slightest bit.

“I guess I might be,” she says, and hiccups. “But!” she immediately changes her tune, and after a last sniff, she continues, “That’s all beside the point! I wanna know more about the sign language, and I bet so does Darcy!”

So… So considerate. Always so considerate.

Just why…

Why does she think of him, even now? Why does he not go forgotten for even a moment? Why does Pearl always insist on including him?

He frowns as he stares at her, the emotion hidden behind his illusion. How can she continue to be so… so… nice? Always so nice.

(She would not be if she knew the scope of his lies.)

“Right, Darcy?”

“I…” he stammers, having forgotten the question. “I guess.”

Grovyle pulls his hands back and smiles. “I mean, you can definitely say ‘Hello’ still, Pearl. It’s easy, look.” And he raises his hand, and waves.

“Oh!” exclaims Pearl, “Yeah, I can do that!” And she waves back.

“And… Hm. ‘Please’ looks like this,” Grovyle says, and then shows the movement of his flat palm almost stroking to the side of his face. “If you have five fingers – with one being a thumb – you could also fold it in, but old Fern always understood it either with or without thumb.” He seems to think about what word to choose next. “And ‘thank you’, you can also do. You just move your flat hand from your chin towards whoever you are talking to.” He shows it, again, and Pearl, definitely having fun now, repeats the movement. Celebi, next to Grovyle, also repeats all the movements Grovyle shows.

Darkrai merely watches them. He has had contact with multiple types of sign language in the past, of course, and recognizes the words Grovyle is showing right now. They are very basic, often used and taught as the first lesson most of the time.

“Yes and no will be harder for you,” Grovyle continues his introduction to sign language, “But they’re hard for me as well. ‘Yes’ looks like this.” And again, he shows the movement – this time, he stretches his fingers apart and moves his hand up and down, while his arm remains mostly still. A nod accompanies the sign as well.

“If you had five fingers, you’d fold the middle three in, but, well, even I got too few fingers for that. And everyone else here…” He looks between Darkrai, Pearl and Celebi, “Well. Celebi, you could probably get closest.”

Celebi, of course, is already trying, and the movement she does seems reminiscent of one of the signs Darkrai recalls having learnt at some point. Just like with many languages, he remembers studying up on them, and then never actually using them, and therefore forgetting most of it.

“No is… Hm. Like this.” Grovyle folds his lower digit, while leaving the upper one outstretched, and then moves his hand in one decisive movement from left to right, shaking his head simultaneously. “You can also shake your hand, but the one movement is enough, most of the time. And if you had five fingers, you’d fold in the lower two, and leave two outstrechted. The thumb… Yeah, the thumb was also folded away.”

Then, he sighs. “But yeah. That’s also not that good of a sign for most of you.”

“Yeah!” Celebi says. “What should I even do? I have either a finger too few or too much.” She giggles.

Pearl, who had grown increasingly disenchanted over the previous two signs not being accessible to her, forces a smile on her face. “Why, you just use your two most favourite fingers for the pointing! And if you have just one favourite, you fold the other two in!”

She laughs, and Celebi snorts, then giggles.

Darkrai stares at them in disapproval. They are being loud, and the supposed joke was not funny at all.

And then, Pearl becomes quiet again, and so does Celebi.

“I…” Pearl starts, staring at her flippers again. Then, she looks up, at Grovyle. “I don’t think I remember sign language. Maybe I would, if my hands and fingers still looked as they are supposed to, but they… they don’t.”

“Yeah,” Grovyle agrees, “I… feared so. If you want, I can continue teaching you a bit again, while we travel.”

Pearl’s defeated mien becomes one of steely determination.

“Yes,” she tells Grovyle, “Please.”

“And I guess that offer is also open to you two,” he adds, looking first at Celebi, then at Darkrai.

“Yeah!” Celebi excitedly shouts. “I want to learn all of it!”

Darkrai merely shrugs, already familiar with the signs Grovyle just tried to teach them. He doubts Grovyle knows anything Darkrai has not already mastered.

“Alright,” Grovyle says with a nod. “Then I guess I should continue. I don’t want us all staying awake for too long, and also, what’s coming up next is… kinda important, I guess. Which is why I’m telling it in the first place.” He groans. “I’m not good with all this story telling.”

A heavy sigh follows this declaration. Darkrai raises his eyebrow, unimpressed at Grovyle’s needless admittance of being a failure.

“Well. Anyways. Pearl was reaching for the bag…”

Slowly, Pearl stretched forwards, until finally, she touched the bag. Just as slowly, she let her hand wander to the wooden button, which she opened as carefully and silently as she could manage. As he watched with bated breath, Treecko couldn’t help the twinge of envy. Her fingers were just so useful for all these things! Sure, she couldn’t just… climb walls, as he could. And most of the time, he found that a good enough benefit, but… the bag might’ve been easy to open for humans, but almost impossible for Pokémon like Treecko.

Finally, Pearl carefully pushed her hand beneath the flap, and then into the bag.

Next to the other bed, the adults were still talking. Ceruledge had moved over to the door and was standing next to it, and someone in a pair of boots stood next to her. The other pair had disappeared – so probably, auntie Matilda had left to tell everyone what was going on. Or, everyone but the teens and kids.

Pearl, meanwhile, lifted the first object towards them. Treecko accepted it being pushed into his hands, and – it was just a plain old flask. Well, not actually plain, because it was made from metal, with some simple engravings done on top of it, which was kinda cool, but besides that, it was still just a water flask.

Even though Treecko couldn’t see Pearl’s gaze, he knew his disappointment had to be reflected in her eyes.

Again, Pearl reached for the bag. This time, she even shimmied a bit forward, which made noise, and that wasn’t good. Helplessly, Treecko grabbed on to her clothes, but Pearl was too busy trying to reach deeper into the bag. And, well, admittedly, he also wanted to see what was in there, find more valuable stuff than cool water bottles. And so, he didn’t actually try to pull her back.

Soon enough Pearl’s arm was in the bag, up to her elbow, and then—

She let out a gasp, and then tried to clutch her head. The movement, instead, made her bump against the bedframe. Even if the gasp hadn’t alerted the adults, the noise of her smacking her head into the bed frame definitely did, and so Treecko didn’t even try to be quiet when he moved to her side.

“Pearl!” he cried, “Pearl, are you okay?”

But Pearl didn’t move. Instead, she clutched her head, lying on her side, with her breathing so shallow that Treecko just couldn’t stop himself from shivering in fear.

Ceruledge was by his side almost immediately, kneeling to look beneath the bed, and next to her was Lothair, also on his knees.

“Pearl!” he cried, and “Treecko!” he added. Treecko almost felt ashamed, almost wanted to escape further beneath the bed… But Pearl was just lying there, on the ground, clutching her head. He couldn’t leave her alone. He couldn’t.

And so, instead, not able to keep his voice from shaking, he told Ceruledge, “Something’s wrong with her! She’s in pain!”

A mumbled “What were you even doing there?” from Lothair went ignored, and instead, Treecko looked at Ceruledge with widened eyes. “She was just moving and I think something’s wrong with her head, and I don’t know what and I—”

“Calm, Treecko,” Ceruledge interrupted him. “It’ll be alright.”

She carefully poked Lothair in the side with one of her blades, which Lothair seemed to understand in some way. He nodded and then lied down fully, and carefully, ever so carefully, reached for Pearl. Treecko watched him with worry in his heart, and there was the instinct to just… hit or bite him, but he forced it down. Pearl was safe with Lothair.

Even more carefully, Lothair pulled Pearl out from beneath the bed, and Treecko scrambled after them. He wouldn’t leave Pearl alone, ever.

The moment he left the shadow of the bed, he realized that Clove and Zoroark were standing just before the bed as well. Auntie Mathilda and Aegislash weren’t there, they’d probably left before to alert the rest of the village. Clove immediately crouched down next to Pearl to get a good look at her.

“She was—, We were just trying to see what’s in the bag – I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry? – and then I think something hurt her and now she’s just… like this. I think her head hurts,” Treecko told Clove, who listened carefully and then nodded.

“Alright. Lothair, would you please put Pearl on the bed? I’ll look after her. While I do, please check the contents of the stranger’s bag. Something in there might’ve put Pearl into this state.”

“Shit,” Lothair said, and he didn’t even correct himself, or tell Treecko not to repeat the bad word. Instead, he did as he was told – he carefully lifted Pearl unto the bed, and then bent down, pulling the bag closer towards himself. Ceruledge positioned herself right next to him.

Treecko, instead, decided to climb up the bed, to sit down next to Pearl. After an exasperated glare from Zoroark, who was trying to inspect Pearl’s hands, still clutched around her head, Treecko moved to Pearl’s feet instead.

“There’s no obvious wounds,” Zoroark stated, and Clove added, “Her breathing is irregular and her heartbeat somewhat weak, but beside that—”

And suddenly, Pearl pulled her hands away from her face and opened her eyes. And groaned.

Immediately, Treecko decided to ignore the wordless message Zoroark gave him earlier about not being too close to Pearl’s head, and moved exactly there, so that he could look her in the face. After blinking a few times, she stared back at him.

“Emerald?” she asked, trying to sit up. Before she had managed to do it, she started hurriedly speaking. “There…! There…! Emerald, there was a weird room, that looked like it was cut from stone!”

Treecko stared at her, no clue what she was talking about.

“And… And a weird thing was in the middle of it! It was glowing, and like a circle but with… pieces cut out? And it was kinda in a cage. It was so weird. And then, a Pokémon walked up to it, and then, and then I… I…” She trailed off, finally seeming to realize where she was, and who was looking at her, besides Treecko.

“I… What?”

“Pearl,” said Clove, incredibly calm, as she almost always was. “How do you feel? Do you remember what happened, besides the things you just told Treecko?”

“I… I mean…”

Treecko sighed. “They found us under the bed. No need to keep it secret.”

Pearl groaned, and once again reached up to her face. This time, she didn’t clutch at it though, but just rubbed her forehead in exasperation. Lambert did the movement a lot, too. “Okay. Well. Uh. I guess Treecko and I were hiding under the bed, and I reached into the bag and touched something, and the moment I did, my head just… hurt? And then I… I don’t really know what I saw. I mean. I told you. But… But it’s weird, right?”

Clove and Zoroark shared a gaze. Zoroark shook his head, and Clove sighed.

“Can you sit up?” she asked Pearl, instead of whatever else she might’ve planned to ask instead.

Pearl nodded. “I think so, yeah.” And she did just that. “My head hurt after touching whatever was in the bag, but I’m okay now.”

Zoroark shook his head again. “We can’t be sure about that yet, Pearl.”

“I feel fine, though…” Pearl attempted to object, but both Clove and Zoroark glared at her for that, and she fell quiet.

Lothair then used that silence to speak up. “So, you won’t guess what we found in the bag.”

Pearl and Treecko curiously tried to look at whatever Lothair found.

At his feet, the ground was really messy. Ceruledge and he probably just tipped the entire bag out, instead of pulling things out one by one. Which made sense, since they would have to touch them if they wanted to do it that way, which would be really stupid after what happened to Pearl.

Many things seemed to have been in the bag – there were two boxes, many small bags, some scrolls, one actual book, food, used and unused bandages, small knickknacks, and even more things in between. Between all of them, the most interesting thing was a blue circle, with pieces evenly cut out, creating a type of geometric shape. It almost looked like whatever Pearl saw after touching something in the bag—

“That’s what I saw!” she cried. “In the middle of the room! The weird thing!”

“A gear,” Lothair explained. “It’s called ‘gear’.”

“A gear? What’s a gear?” Treecko asked, the word new to him. He went ignored, probably because Lothair couldn’t understand him, and Ceruledge wasn’t much of a talker, and Clove and Zoroark were busy thinking about other things, and Pearl didn’t know, either.

“It might be vision-inducing, going off of what happened with Pearl,” Clove wagered. “So, everyone, please make sure not to accidentally touch it… again.”

Pearl ‘oooh’d, nodded, and then tried to get off the bed.

Immediately, Clove turned towards her. “No. Absolutely not.” She shook her head. “We don’t know what, exactly, just happened to you, Pearl, and if it might have any ill after-effects. So you are staying right here, in this bed.”

“But—”

“No buts.”

Pearl groaned, but accepted her defeat. “Ugh, I guess.”

Accepting that defeat would be easy, since no one had told Treecko that he’d need to stay on the bed. So, technically speaking, he was still free to snoop around as he desired.

“Clove,” Lothair spoke up, pointing towards the other bed. “Do you think this guy’s—”

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Pearl, over-excited, interrupted him.

“The Pokémon! That’s him!” When no one reacted as she apparently wanted them to, Pearl added, “I saw him, walking up to that… gear-thingy!”

A long-suffering sigh escaped Zoroark. “Pearl, calm down. Don’t shout. You aren’t the only patient.”

Pearl huffed and crossed her arms. “Alright, alright, sorry. But…” And with pleading eyes, she looked at Clove and Zoroark, “I swear, he’s the Pokémon I saw in… whatever I saw.”

“And we’ll investigate it. But for now…”

Clove looked at the man, then at Lothair. “If he wakes…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but the way she looked at Pearl and Treecko made it obvious that, for some reason, she was kinda worried about them. Pearl, he understood. But Treecko would be fine! If the stranger woke, and attacked them, he could totally defend Pearl and himself. He could!

“Pearl, Treecko,” Clove addressed them one after the other. “I want you two to go home.”

“But you just said—”

“Treecko,” Zoroark warned him, and he fell quiet.

“We don’t know what the stranger will do once he wakes,” Clove explained. “I just don’t want you next to someone potentially dangerous. So, can I trust you to return home this time, at least?”

“It’s not like we—”

“Pearl.”

Immediately, Pearl apologized to Zoroark. “Sorry.”

“We’ll go home,” Treecko promised, and neither he nor Pearl crossed their fingers this time.

“Good,” Clove sighed, clearly relieved. “I’ll come and check up on you later today, Pearl. If you feel bad at any point, or even just strange, immediately tell someone to get me, alright?”

“Okay,” she agreed easily. Treecko wasn’t sure if she did because she intended on doing as Clove told her, or if she had already decided to ignore any pain, as she tended to.

With that over with, Pearl stood up and skirted off the bed, Treecko following closely behind. They passed Clove and Zoroark, the pile of stuff from the bag, and even if they’d wanted to sneak just one of the things with them, Ceruledge and Lothair watched them closely, and so, they didn’t even try.

In the doorframe, Pearl turned to Treecko, and with excitement in her eyes, whispered, “This is all so cool.”

Treecko was about to respond in kind, but Pearl hadn’t been quiet enough, and drawn Clove’s – very rarely seen – anger.

“It’s not cool,” she scolded them them. “It’s scary and dangerous. Just because it’s something you haven’t seen before doesn’t make it cool. And if you claim that ever again, I’ll personally beat you up, heal you and then beat you up again. Understood?”

With a gulp and a healthy dose of new respect, the two of them nodded. “Understood.”

“And that was the first time you had the Dimensional Scream happen,” Grovyle concludes.

Pearl frowns. She opens her mouth, but just before she says something, she seems to decide against it. With one of her flippers, she rubs her chin, thinking.

“What’s wrong?” Grovyle asks, worry seeping into his words.

“Nothing,” Pearl is quick to assuage him. “I’m just… well, it’s just, I’m wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“I thought the Dimensional Scream was a learnt ability? At least that’s what Uxie said.”

“And Dusknoir claimed the same,” Darkrai adds, and, noticing the sudden shift in atmosphere, quickly retracts, “Although he is most certainly not an expert on the topic. It just came to mind.”

“It is learnt, yeah,” Grovyle agrees. “I mean, you were around eleven years old when you had that first experience. And once we figured out what had actually happened, you needed like… two more years to even start being able to trigger it on purpose. But I guess that initial time happened because a Time Gear was directly involved.”

“I… guess that makes sense,” she answers. “Maybe, once we reach Azelf, I can ask him to ask Uxie about that. It’s just interesting, you know?”

Grovyle shrugs. “I’ll freely admit, I never really cared that much for the specifics of how the Dimensional Scream worked. I just wanted to help you get it to work, and after that, I was fine leaving the ‘figuring more stuff out’ to you. I wish I’d listened more closely to your ramblings about it, so I could give you your answers now… I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, don’t be!” Pearl is quick to soothe him. “It’s not like I really need to know the specifics! After all, I can still use it, even if I don’t recall how I learnt it.”

Darkrai, not really interested in their conversation, stares at the fire he had started for cooking. Right now, it isn’t a proper fire anymore, but just gently smouldering logs, emitting more warmth than light. He considers throwing in the one log they did not yet use for a moment. If Grovyle keeps telling his story for much longer, he probably should. It is autumn, after all, and the night’s coolth is starting to creep in.

Decision made, he picks the log up, and, after using it to arrange the embers into a better position, he puts it on top.

“So, who was that stranger?” asks Pearl in the meantime, “And why did he have a Time Gear with him?”

Before Grovyle can answer, Darkrai looks up from his self-given task to ask his own question, suddenly realizing the implications of what Grovyle told them. “You said Pearl was eleven when all this happened and needed two years to master the Dimensional Scream. So she is thirteen years old?”

“Fourteen, actually,” Grovyle says, and turning towards Pearl, he adds, “Or at least you were, when we left. With how long you’ve been in the past, I think you are actually fifteen by now.”

“Oh,” says Pearl. “I… That’s cool, I guess.” She seems underwhelmed. Or as if she does not know what to do with the knowledge.

“And you are older than her?” Darkrai asks Grovyle.

Grovyle shrugs. “Presumably. I have no clue how old I was when I joined Pearl’s family. But we all just assumed that I was a bit older.”

Celebi points her finger at Darkrai in a wide arch, and that she also moves her body just the tiniest bit closer towards Grovyle while doing so does not go unnoticed by him. “Speaking of! How old are you, Darcy?”

“I’d actually also like to know,” says Grovyle.

Pearl grimaces. “Guys, Darcy is touchy about this subject. It’s a ghost-type thing.”

Darkrai starts to harrumph, then stops in the middle of it. It’s a ghost-type thing? That sounds likely, but where did Pearl get that from? If he did not know better, he would say that this is something he would tell her. But if he told her, he would surely remember that he did so. He has a great memory. And why is she so readily defending him against the scrutiny of Celebi and Grovyle?

“What Pearl said,” he states.

Grovyle nods, for once just accepting things as they are. Celebi shoots Darkrai a glance, which is probably meant to be shared by just the two of them. A secret shared unwittingly, an understanding having come from it – supposedly. Darkrai feels only dread at the reminder of the rope for the guillotine Celebi is holding in her hands unknowingly, smiling all the while.

He looks at Pearl instead, because… Because in a way, she is the last one he… can… he can feel safe around.

How strange.

It is not that he truly is safe around her. In fact, the opposite is much truer. Everything he had done during the last years, every lie he had told, it all happened so that he could take revenge on Pearl. He had spun a web to envelop everything around him, from Treasure Town to the Lake Guardians, even into the future, all so that one single person would stay in its midst and be unable to escape the never-ending lies.

If Pearl ever got a glimpse of the reality he had been hiding, it would be… the end, for everything. But even with some hiccups, with some mistakes he made, she remains right where he wants her, does not threaten the most fundamental of his lies, and so, she became the safest person to spend time with.

Because she does not yet know, because she has no reason to try to peek through an illusion, or to find hints of past wrongdoings, she is safe. He can just be grouchy old Darcy around her, who lied only because of his unfortunate ability. Not because he hides himself behind illusions, not because he is a criminal on the run. No. He is just Darcy, scared of being judged for something he cannot change.

Celebi and Grovyle are a danger. Celebi had learnt his true form, Grovyle been told a simple but almost accurate version of Darkrai’s past. They are outsiders to the web Darkrai is desperately patching up, and even worse, they are right next to Pearl. A single word could be enough to tear everything apart.

He is torn from his musings by Celebi’s voice, and for once is almost thankful for it. “But are you old or not old?”

“Celebi!” cries Pearl, indignant for his sake (why?).

But her friend just pouts and defends herself, “I’m not asking Darcy’s specific age! I just wanna know if he’s like… older than Dusknoir, for example! Or Dareios!”

Darkrai takes a deep breath, realizing that giving her an answer will stop these questions more readily than refusing to offer anything. “Older than these two, yes. And that is all I will say on the topic.”

“Thanks!” says Celebi, a grin on her face which very clearly adds, ‘Look, that wasn’t so hard!’

Since she, wisely, keeps from actually speaking the words, he decides to overlook her invidiousness.

“And now! The grand story! Oh, Emerald, you must continue!” She claps her hands. “This is all so thrilling! I can’t believe you never told me any of this!”

“Because it was, and is, private business.” Grovyle doesn’t seem half as miffed as he would have at the start at the evening, though. “And… not everything is as fun as the first meeting, or as thrilling as the first vision. Things… went downhill. Really, really downhill.”

Pearl frowns. “I… get that. But I still—”

“I know,” says Grovyle, “And I accept that. You deserve to know it, too. I guess I was just… foolishly hoping that you would just blindly go along with all of this, even if that wouldn’t have been fair for you. Because… Because I don’t like thinking about these things, and I don’t like talking about them. I don’t like remembering the past. But…” He looks at Pearl, and the emotion in his eyes seems so kind, so gentle, when he states, “For you, I can get over that.”

Pearl’s voice shudders just the tiniest bit when she tells him, “Thank you.”

Pearl and Treecko ended up getting grounded for a record amount of five days. This, of course, managed to teach them only that they needed to get better at hiding what they had done; and not, as the adults had hoped, to listen to them next time.

It wasn’t like they wanted to cause trouble, it was just that—

“No one ever tells us anything,” Pearl explained to Lambert, although Treecko could also admit that there was definitely a hint of whining in her voice.

Lambert just continued rummaging through the kitchen, while Talor, his Crobat, hung on one of the branches fixed directly beneath the ceiling. One of Talor’s eyes was closed, but with the other, she attentively watched Pearl. Pearl, as dramatically as possible, was kinda sitting at the kitchen table – but her upper body, she’d laid on the table, her face turned to look at her father.

“I tell you plenty of things,” said Lambert, opening the same cabinet for the fourth time. “I just wish I’d told you where I’d put my oven mitt.”

Treecko kept looking at Talor, and was suddenly really glad that the bat couldn’t read thoughts. Else, she’d find out that Treecko had hidden the mitten. It wasn’t the best plan, he’d readily admit, but he just hoped that, maybe, if Lambert couldn’t find it, he’d go over to maybe Georgios or Konrad and ask to borrow theirs, and maybe, Talor would go with him or fall asleep, and then Pearl and Treecko could finally sneak out and try to get a better look at the stranger who had started moving through the village, using borrowed crutches, and—

Yeah, so it really wasn’t a well thought out plan, so what.

“Or that they’d tell you where they put it,” Talor spoke up, for the first time in three days. She disliked talking, a lot.

Treecko gulped, but decided that, if the game was already up, he wouldn’t allow Pearl to go down with him.

“Pearl doesn’t know,” he said.

Pearl turned her head towards him, dragging her nose over the table while doing so, intent on not changing her position.

“I just wanted, to, uh…”

He didn’t want to lie, he really didn’t, but telling the truth would definitely get him in more trouble than coming up with something Lambert could forgive him for. But… At the same time…

“I’m sorry,” he said, hanging his head. “I had a stupid idea. It didn’t work out. Sorry.”

Lambert just sighed very, very deeply. “Alright. Thank you for at least coming clean after I’d already searched everything ten times.”

Treecko didn’t dare look at him. He just wouldn’t be able to deal with the disappointment he’d definitely see on Lambert’s face. Instead, he just stood up, to walk to his room and gather the ‘lost’ mitt. Thankfully, the walk of shame was short, the door to Pearl’s and his shared room just behind the dinner table.

He was quick about it, too, but when he came back, Lambert was already sitting at the table, Talor on his chair’s backrest. That… was not good. That was definitely a sign of an incoming lecture, and Treecko was, admittedly, really not in the mood for one of those. It felt like the last days had been constant lectures, actually. Most often from Tempest, but also from Lambert, and Clove had come to check on Pearl twice, using the chance to also lecture them, and even Lothair had lectured them once. It was only really, really lucky that Fatma hadn’t decided that their transgression was lecture-worthy. Treecko didn’t think he would recover from that. He hadn’t ever been on the receiving end of one, but had seen – or heard – them enough to know that he really, really didn’t want it happening to him.

At least auntie Mathilda hadn’t lectured them. No, she’d just chuckled every time she passed by their house and saw Treecko and Pearl wistfully staring out of the window.

Settling down next to Pearl, he put the mitt on the table and slid it over to Lambert, who took it with a nod.

“Look, you two—”

Pearl groaned. “Please, papa. Whatever you wanna say, we probably heard it the last days.”

“Are you sure?” asked Lambert, and the tone he spoke with made Treecko look up.

There was a twinkle in his eyes.

“Because I was going to tell you that you’ve had to stay inside for long enough, and that I hereby decree your grounding to be over. But if you don’t want to hear that—”

“Yes!” Pearl shouted, and “We wanna hear it!” screamed Treecko.

Lambert laughed. “Alright, alright. Then here you go. You two are no longer grounded if, and only if—”

The two of them groaned.

“I haven’t even finished!”

“But we know that you’ll make us do something!” said Pearl.

Lambert grinned, only half of his mouth lifting. The other half, he’d explained to Treecko, had been paralysed since the day he was born.

“Of course I will. Every proper grounding is concluded with you having to do something for me. It’s quick this time, though! Just bring Konrad’s shovel back to him, alright? And, of course, you need to promise never again to do as you did five days ago. Alright?”

“Okay, we will!” agreed Treecko and, “We promise, we promise!” cried Pearl.

“Then off you two go,” Lambert told them, standing up. And then, he opened his arms. Immediately, Pearl and, after a second of consideration, Treecko were enveloped in his crushing hug. With a laugh, he lifted them both the tiniest bit off the floor, and set them down quickly again.

“Oof, you’re getting heavy.”

“I’m not!” disagreed Pearl.

“I am!” said Treecko, proudly. “I’m gonna evolve real soon!”

“Are you?” asked Lambert, and patting his own tummy, said, “Wish I was also evolving soon.”

Pearl giggled.

Lambert then turned to Treecko, and, as he always did, added, “Well, I’m looking forward to it, and so is Talor.”

The Crobat rolled her open eye. “The taller they are, the more trouble they get into.”

Lambert laughed, and with a finally pat on the head for Pearl (Treecko evaded his hand just in time), they were finally, finally allowed outside again.

The shovel had been placed right next to the door, and Pearl put it on her shoulder to carry. She was much taller, after all. Elder Fatma’s, and by extension, Konrad’s house was just to the right of Tempest’ and Lambert’s, and so, carrying the shovel wasn’t really that bad of a task. In fact, Lambert had probably just told them to do it so that, if Fatma wanted to, she now had the perfect chance to also lecture the two of them.

Insidious.

The few metres were walked quickly, and then, Treecko knocked on the door. At first, there was no answer, but then, hurried steps came to the door and pulled it open.

“No way are you that quick, so whatever you want—”

Zeynep blinked at them in surprise, the annoyance they’d heard in her voice immediately gone. “Oh! Pearl and Treecko! Sorry, I thought you were my brother.”

Pearl grinned. “Nope! Way better company!”

Zeynep snorted, then quickly covered her mouth. “Don’t say it like that! But yeah, true.” She scratched the back of her head, the fabric of her headscarf moving up and down as she did. “Yaşar didn’t light, like, half the lanterns properly today, so they’ve gone out already. Grandma got angry, and now he has to fix it.”

Treecko nodded, sagely. He really couldn’t wait until Pearl and he were old enough to take over the task. He was an early riser anyways, and lighting the lanterns just… made one seem so important. And! It was the first part of guard training, which Treecko had already decided he really, really wanted to be. It just seemed so cool.

“So, let me guess,” Zeynep said, leaning against the doorframe, “You’re here to return the shovel, right?”

“Yup!” Pearl presented said shovel to the older girl, who took it with a thankful nod. She placed it right next to their own house’s door, which once again proved to Treecko the uselessness of the task. It had been a few metres. If Konrad had really needed the shovel immediately, he’d just have walked the few steps over to get it himself. Whatever. They’d finally been allowed outside again, that was way more important.

“And I also guess you aren’t grounded anymore?”

“Exactly!”

“Yeah!”

“So, what will you do with your newfound freedom?”

“Uh…” said Pearl, clueless.

Treecko wasn’t, though. “Go to the fields. Before we got grounded, I wanted to keep practicing Dig!”

“Yeah, yeah!” agreed Pearl.

Zeynep nodded approvingly. “A good plan. So, if your parents ask where you are, I’ll tell them.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you!”

“And don’t practice in the fields themselves!” warned Zeynep, calling out to their retreating backs.

“We aren’t Yaşar!” Treecko called back, making Zeynep giggle.

“Good!” she said, and then, they heard the door close. And so, they were alone again.

Once again, they were off, to actually do as Treecko had said. Maybe it hadn’t been their plan when going outside, but now, it was, and it was a good plan.

They turned the corner of Fatma’s house and came into view of the fields. There were the orderly lines of raised earth where asparagus was grown, and more lines for rhubarb and chicories. Then, there were beds for the many seedlings which would begin to sprout in the dark, but not thrive – but could be eaten as sprouts as well. Gathering the seeds for them was a hassle, Treecko had been told, and sometimes, he kinda wished that he was a useful grass type, who could grow things in a matter of minutes or hours, who could learn attacks which would imitate the bright light the plants needed, even if just for a short amount of time. Instead, he was just good at climbing.

Maybe he’d learn some of those attacks in the future, if someone else first showed him how they were done – like Trapinch had had to show him Dig. That hadn’t come to him naturally, but after watching Trapinch perform the attack a few times, suddenly, he’d understood. And now, he needed to practice it.

Tempest had mentioned that some attacks like it existed – attacks Pokémon couldn’t learn on their own, but had to be taught.

For now, he didn’t know any attacks which could create Seeds, and no other Pokémon in Stonesthrow did. And so, they’d have to go out, and search either for Pokémon willing and able to perform the attacks for them, or just… find seeds, in places which hadn’t already been searched through by previous generations.

Next to the vegetables, there were the patches of mushrooms. Supposedly, they’d been planted in proper beds at some point, but the mushrooms had decided that they did not like growing in orderly lines as everything else did. No, they grew everywhere, and keeping them away from the other crops proved to be a challenge. Every few weeks, people would have to come together and try to stop the mushrooms from moving into the other fields. Pearl and Treecko had had to help with that often already, but it was a never-ending task. They’d probably still be doing that once they were as old as Fatma.

(If they ever got as old as Fatma.)

(Probably not.)

The fields looked as they always did, the lanterns around them lit for the ‘day’. But, there was one very important difference: Someone was already there.

They were walking, and for a moment, Treecko wasn’t sure who it was based on sound alone – the walking pattern didn’t match anyone from Stonesthrow, the faint noise of their steps he heard was weird.

And then, he realised that it was the stranger.

Th-thunk and step, he went, using crutches to keep his bandaged leg off the ground, th-thunk and step, and sometimes, he synced up his crutches so well that it was just thunk and step.

He was really, really quick walking like that. The first days, when Treecko had only been able to watch him from the window, the stranger had been really slow. Probably because he was freshly hurt, and also because he had to put the crutches at a really wide angle to fit his hips through. Now, he basically swung his legs through the air and let the crutches carry most of his weight. It looked kinda fun.

But… But could they really walk up to him? Tempest and Lambert had been clear during their lectures that sneaking somewhere they shouldn’t be, and also sneaking into a room with an unknown Pokémon who could hurt any of them, had been a super stupid decision. So they’d definitely forbid them from doing it, if they asked.

Treecko looked at Pearl. Pearl looked back at him, and in a wordless conversation, a decision was made.

They hurried after the stranger, who was heading towards the one ruin they had within the village’s walls. It had already been a ruin when Treecko had come to Stonesthrow, and until now, there hadn’t been enough people around that they would need to rebuild it. Maybe they adults also didn’t actually want to do so.

Very obviously, the stranger heard them, as he turned around – but only with his head. His crutches remained where they were. Moving them, as fun as it looked, was probably a bit of a hassle.

And also, the stranger had a long neck. Turning to look at them couldn’t be too hard.

“Ah, the youngest two!” he called out to them, once they were somewhat close to him. “We’ve not really had the chance to meet, yet. Your folks are intent on keeping you inside, are they not?”

He left his mouth open a bit, which was probably meant to be a smile. Hopefully. It could also be a threat, Treecko wasn’t sure. The beak-type mouth the stranger had didn’t make it easy to understand his expression.

There were two scars going over the left half of his face, on right next to the eye, and the other going over it. It didn’t seem to affect his eye, but obviously, Treecko wouldn’t really be able from just looking at it. He could be fully blind in that eye for all he knew.

“Uh, yeah,” Pearl nervously answered, her hands continuously wrapping themselves around each other. “We got kinda grounded. But we aren’t, anymore!”

“Just like me, then!” The stranger laughed. He had a surprisingly high voice, although it was kinda rough. Deeper than Treecko’s voice still, and deeper than most women’s voices, probably.

“You got grounded?” Pearl asked, with wide eyes.

“Well, since I’m an adult I guess it was more like being jailed?” the stranger explained. He turned his head around again and continued walking – half-jumping – in the direction of the ruin. “But I guess it was decided that I was not too bad of a threat. And being cooped up inside all the time makes me restless,” he added. “So I told your adults that, if they were intent on keeping me locked up any longer, I’d find a way to escape.”

Treecko really, really shouldn’t share the wide eyes Pearl had, but he couldn’t help himself. The ease with which the stranger talked about all this, how calm he was… he was just… just…

Like no one Treecko had met before.

“And I saw this ruin from afar multiple times already, but did not have the chance to check it out until now.”

Pearl, always more at ease with social interactions than Treecko, kept the conversation going. “Oh, it burned down ages ago, I think. Before my parents were born.”

“Interesting,” the stranger mumbled, walking even closer, until he stood right in front of one of the remaining walls. Most of them were no longer upright, and only some kept a bit of their previous height. The rest had come crashing down ages ago, or been burnt away. Still. Like all houses in Stonesthrow, it was made with a drystone technique, and only in a few places, timber had been placed. The ceiling, for example, or the window frames. That wood was long gone, and the stones which had been closest to it were still coloured black from the soot.

Some stones had definitely been reused to fix other houses, because even if there were lots and lots lying here, it wasn’t enough to make up an entire house. The shape of the walls remained, though, and Treecko and Pearl had come here very, very often to play.

The stranger turned to look at Pearl. “Who did it belong to? Do you know?”

“Uh…” Pearl hesitated, and Treecko took over, remembering the story Tempest had told them once. “It belonged to another family of five – three Pokémon, and two humans. They lived here, back when Fatma was still a child. And during one night, for a reason no one knows, the house burst up in flames, and they all died.”

“Fatma’s the elder of our village,” Pearl explained, in case the man didn’t know. And turning left and right, to make sure that no one was listening in, she added, “And according to some people, you can sometimes see their ghosts.”

“Interesting, interesting,” the stranger mumbled, and Treecko got the distinct feeling that he liked using that word, a lot. He also rubbed his chin in thought. His claws made a scratching sound as they went over the lower part of his beak.

Suddenly, the stranger removed his hand from his chin. “Oh!” he exclaimed.

“Oh?” Pearl repeated.

He turned toward them fully, his back to the ruins. “I completely forgot to introduce myself! And to ask for your names.”

“Oh, uh, uhm” Pearl stuttered, probably just remembering that they, technically, weren’t supposed to interact with strangers overly much. Especially not this stranger. But… he had been staying in Stonesthrow for multiple days, and was allowed to walk around on his own, so… he should be safe enough to tell their names to. Besides, if he wanted to, like, stab them or something he could do that even without knowing their names.

His friend had obviously also thought about that, but come to the some decision, because she spoke up first, “Well, I’m Pearl, a human.”

“And I’m Treecko.” said Treecko, “My name’s Emerald, but don’t call me that.”

“Understood,” the stranger said. “That’s the way it’s handled in this village, I already gathered. It’s a pleasure to meet you two. My name is Chen Yi.”

“Chen Yi…” Pearl mouthed out loud, and Treecko did the same. The name sounded… different than the other Pokémon names he had heard before. It followed another pattern.

“Chen Yi is just my name!” the stranger hurried to explain when he noticed their fascination with the sound. “I’m a Haxorus. So you can call me either Haxorus or Chen Yi, but honestly, I prefer Chen Yi.”

“Nice to meet you, Chen Yi!” Pearl said dutifully, just as they had been taught to answer.

The Pokémon laughed. It was a bit of a rough sound, but it didn’t sound fake. Just like his voice had… gone through a lot of screaming, at some point, maybe.

“You’re polite. It’s…” He took a slow breath, then sighed heavily. “It’s nice to see you two behaving so much like kids. How old are you? Nine?”

“I’m eleven!” Pearl said, and in indignation, tacked on, “And we aren’t behaving like kids!”

“Sure, sure,” acquiesced the stranger, no, Chen Yi. “That’s what all kids claim. But no, be happy to be kids, still. That’s not always possible.”

Pearl pouted. Treecko however, well, he understood the truth in Chen Yi’s words. Because after both his parents had died, before he’d found a home in Stonesthrow… There had been a time he had had to realize that he couldn’t possibly be a child anymore. He was young, yes, too young, but he wasn’t a child. With the world they lived in, it just wasn’t possible.

And then, he’d been lucky, so, so, so, so lucky that Tempest had found him, and reached out to him, and suddenly, the time when he wasn’t a kid was over, and he could just… go back to being one. It was hard, in the beginning, but… Pearl helped. Lambert helped. Talor helped. Tempest helped. They all, in different ways, showed him how to go back to being a child, and slowly, it became less a matter of “behaving like one” and more just “being one”.

But that time outside, in a dark, hostile world, remained deep in his chest, in his bones, from the tip of his snout to the end of his tails. And it wouldn’t ever leave him, he knew.

And so, Treecko just shrugged.

Chen Yi, meanwhile, had looked around some more. “Say, are these ruins safe to traverse?”

“Tra-what?” Pearl stared at the man, confused.

“Traverse,” Chen Yi repeated. “Basically, can I safely climb on them?”

Pearl scratched her cheek. “I mean, yeah, theoretically. Emerald and I climb on them all the time.” And then, she went for the kill, or what came close enough to one. Treecko always found it hilarious when she would suddenly get so insightful and kinda, well, savage.

“But I don’t think it’s safe for you.” She stared at his leg.

The stranger followed her gaze, and then laughed yet again. It was a short laugh, more a bark than anything else.

“Alright, alright. I guess I also weigh quite a bit more than you two. But I can sit down, no?”

“Sure,” Pearl said, and Treecko added, “Be our guest.”

With a groan, Chen Yi actually sat down. His bandaged leg, he stretched out, and the crutches he put down next to himself.

Pearl, after a moment’s consideration, jumped up the bit to seat herself right next to Chen Yi. Treecko stared at her in disbelief. What was she doing?

“Uh, so…” Pearl started, and then stopped, very obviously not sure what she should say, but intent on saying something. Treecko had no clue what she wanted to say, though. Instead, he just climbed up the wall, to be close to Pearl.

“Okay, so, uh… When you first came to the village, you collapsed, right? I mean, that’s not really a question. We saw you collapse. You were out really good.”

“Indeed, I was,” the Haxorus admitted with an easy chuckle. “Do you, perchance, want to ask why I arrived like that? Or where I came from?”

“No!” Pearl hurried to say, and then, she corrected, “Well, yes, I mean, I think that would be really cool to know! But… But I really wanted to ask…”

She trailed off, yet again. And suddenly, Treecko realized what seemed to make the talking so hard for her.

“Is this about that gear thing you touched?” he whispered.

Pearl nodded, looking off to the side.

“Yeah?” Chen Yi prompted.

“So there… Was that thing in your bag. That gear.”

Chen Yi hummed. “Indeed. I might tell you the story later, but that gear was partly responsible for me being in, well, this state.” He points at his outstretched leg. “But unfortunately, some people from your village have taken it from me and refuse to give it back. Because it could cause accidents, or something, which it can’t actually do.”

“Uh…”

He sighed, then shook his head. “Ah, sorry, sorry. You kids really don’t need to be burdened with this adult’s troubles. It’s for me and the other adults to figure out how to proceed.”

“Uhm. Okay, I guess?” Pearl mumbled, probably just as clueless as Treecko with what to do with the stuff the man had just told them. In just a few sentences, he’d shared more than the rest of the adults had been willing to in five days. “Although… I… Well, I wanted to ask you, since it belongs to you… I touched it, and then, I… I saw something? Like, a room, with stone walls – but not stones stacked up. More like someone dug directly into a mountain? Anyways. I saw that room, and in the middle, there was the gear, although someone had put it into a type of cage? I think? And then I saw you walking towards it. And I know this sounds really super strange, but I haven’t be able to stop thinking about it, and no one knows why I saw that and no one ever wants to tell me anything anyways and so I just thought…”

She looked toward Chen Yi, who stared at her with wide eyes and an opened mouth.

“You…” He looked very surprised by what Pearl had said. “Then, you saw the past. Which would mean that you—”

“So it was this Haxorus who told you about Pearl’s predisposition for the Dimensional Scream?”

“Don’t interrupt the story, Darcy!” Playfully pulling at her antenna to show her annoyance, Celebi pouts.

Darkrai sniffs. “I am allowed to ask questions.”

“But not in an interrupting way!”

Darkrai huffs.

“Yeah,” answers Grovyle, not as angry at the interruption as Celebi appears to be. She will get over it in a few seconds, Darkrai is sure. She always does. “He was. Honestly, if he hadn’t been, Pearl and I wouldn’t have figured out a lot of stuff. He knew what the Time Gears were, and while he hadn’t yet figured out what they could be used for, he knew that they were important.”

“Did they continue to work as normal even in the future?” Darkrai is curious. “I would presume not. With time as destroyed as it is, even just having Time Gears remain seems strange enough.”

“Beats me,” Grovyle admits. “We never got our hands on more than the one Time Gear while in the future, and that one…” He makes a noise which is a mixture of a groan and a whine, and then pushes the palm of his hand against his forehead. It is more emotion that Darkrai has seen from him most of the time, and that, of course, makes him apprehensive. If even Grovyle, so very hardened by all his experiences in the future, reacts like this…

Well. Darkrai is sure that he can take it. As unfortunate as that future is, Darkrai has lived through worse.

“Look. I warned you that a lot of the stuff which happened wasn’t nice. And… What happened after Chen Yi came to town is one of those things.”

“Was he—?” Pearl cautiously starts. Grovyle vehemently shakes his head.

“No, he was always one of the few Pokémon who really and truly wanted to change the future, no matter the cost. He was actually one of the core members of the planetary investigation team. Which was… I’ll get to that later, alright?” He waits for Pearl to nod before he continues. “So, yeah, he never did anything bad towards us. But…” Grovyle trails off and stares at the night sky.

Celebi skirts closer, until she can lean against Grovyle. Seemingly not even thinking about it, he puts his hand on hers.

“His mere presence in Stonesthrow led to bad things. Maybe they could’ve been stopped in time if he’d just been kicked out… But at the same time, no one could really see it coming. And it’s over and done with, anyways.”

Pearl seems apprehensive when she asks, “So… what happened?”

Grovyle looks down and at the remains of the fire. “It’s… late already. Maybe I shouldn’t—”

“About half an hour until midnight,” Darkrai states after a quick glance at the stars. “Since it is autumn, the sun will rise in about… eight hours.”

“See?” Grovyle jumps on the chance to stop telling his story. “With having to keep night watch, we really should stop here now.”

Darkrai, not about to let Grovyle get out of telling this tale quite so easily, rebukes him. “You do not have to worry about that. I am sure this last part will take no more than half an hour, and I have no issue with extending my watch, to leave the rest of you enough time to sleep. I can manage with very little of it.”

There, let Grovyle tell him how Darcy needs more sleep. They both would know that to be a lie.

“Weeell,” Pearl drawls, “Judging by how you acted in the future when you were sleep deprived, that’s not true, actually.”

Crossing his arms and looking off to the side, Darkrai harrumphs. “That does not count.”

“Sure it doesn’t.” Pearl grins.

“I had been awake for at least…” Darkrai tries to calculate the amount. He realizes that he has actually no clue. “Fifty hours. Sixty, more likely,” he wagers. It had to be, or he would not have started acting quite so unlike himself. He hopes.

“Sixty hours?” Pearl questions. “No way that’s true.”

“I mean,” Grovyle chimes up, “It depends. We were in the future long enough for that amount to have passed.”

Darkrai nods, smug.

“But I also don’t believe it.”

“You… rude delinquents,” Darkrai huffs, annoyed. “Besides, what does this matter now? Grovyle still has a story to share.”

“I am… really not sure if it is the right time to share it,” Grovyle admits. “It’s… It’s…”

He looks incredibly uncomfortable, which just makes Darkrai want to hear more. If it makes Grovyle behave like this, he needs to know. Because as long as he poses as a Duskull, entering Grovyle’s nightmares to find out about his fears will be difficult, and this might be one of the few chances he gets.

“If you can tell it,” Pearl speaks, “Then I want to know. It doesn’t matter how sad or angry you think it would make me.”

“I wasn’t…”

Pearl smiles, and Grovyle falls quiet.

“I didn’t go into this expecting just nice childhood stories of meeting each other,” she explains. “So it’s okay if I get the other stuff, too. It’s part of my past, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Grovyle sighs, and finally, he continues to tell his story.

It was deathly quiet when they returned to Stonesthrow.

Pearl was gripping his arm so hard it hurt and Treecko didn’t want her to ever ease up or let go. Something within himself tried to convince him that this had all been a nightmare, and in a few minutes, he’d finally wake up, and everything would be alright again. Pearl would call him sleepyhead, and Lambert would already have finished breakfast, and Talor would be hanging upside down next to him with one eye closed, and Tempest would have to be roused from sleep by Pearl and him, and act more groggy than she actually was, and the moment Pearl and Treecko would turn around to tell Lambert that Tempest didn’t want to rise, she’d attack them with a sneak tickle attack, and Pearl would squeak, and Treecko would try to defend her as the least ticklish one, and Tempest would only relent once Talor would swoop down, and—

But instead, Yaşar was walking in front of them, carrying Zeynep on his back and for once not complaining about the task. Zeynep’s Boldore was walking next to them, carrying the two measly bags all of them had been able to take in their hurry. Berenike was holding Pearl’s other hand, trying to keep her sobs as quiet as possible.

Slowly, the children made their way into town. Through the front gate their feet carried them, the secret tunnel they’d escaped through having collapsed behind them.

(Zeynep shouting at them to move faster, quicker, to get out now, out, out, out, and then the earth shaking, and rocks falling, and Zeynep not getting out completely before the tunnel is forever destroyed—)

Only destruction greeted them. The guard station on the left side had collapsed entirely, its roof buried almost entirely beneath the walls. The one on the right was missing half its roof, and the debris had filled it. The fields next to them had been torn apart and destroyed, and all the plants had shrivelled up and died.

Treecko concentrated on them, to not have to think about the other things. They’d looked fine yesterday. Small and ugly, as they always did, but fine beside that. And today, they were dried up and rotting and withered away.

But the dead plants couldn’t keep his attention for long, because everything they passed was… was broken, and Treecko couldn’t help the tears jumping to his eyes. The lantern posts were askew or had fallen over, the ground around them charred from the burning oil. There hadn’t been much to burn, not here, on the road leading to the rest of the village, but Treecko was dreading it already. He couldn’t see far enough, Pearl’s Shiny Leaf and Berenike’s Shiny Stone not enough to light up much more than what was right in front of them.

He didn’t even know if their house was still standing. He didn’t even know who else was… was…

(Auntie Mathilda screams, in a way Treecko has never heard before, in a way he almost doesn’t recognize as auntie Mathilda, and then, from one second to the other, she’s silent, and Treecko just knows that he’ll never hear her stupid laugh again—)

Everything would be alright. It… would be alright.

He furiously wiped over his eyes. It was just houses. Houses could be rebuilt. And lanterns could be erected. And fields could be replanted. Everything could be fixed, again.

There was something lying on the street, right before them. Yaşar almost stumbled over it, and his rapid stop managed to get even Zeynep to lift her head. Treecko walked forwards, trying to catch a glimpse of what it was, when Yaşar spoke up.

“Don’t look at it,” he said, commanded, almost shouted. “Walk around. Don’t look. I mean it. I’ll beat you up if you look.”

The threat didn’t sound like he really meant it. It sounded more like he was… was… scared.

He took a step back and carefully walked around the thing, Boldore following closely, neither looking down.

Berenike yelped as she did what Yaşar had said not to, and pulled Pearl along, who pulled Treecko along in turn. He knew that Pearl stared at the thing because she grabbed him harder the moment they were close enough to make out more details. He answered with taking hold of her arm with both hands.

An unfamiliar Pokémon laid on the ground, its own blood forming a circle around its neck. It looked a bit like Yaşar’s Eevee, who they hadn’t managed to find in time before they’d had to run, who Yaşar shouted at them not to even mention. But the thing’s… the Pokémon’s face looked… bigger. Meaner. It didn’t even really look like an Eevee, that was just the closest Pokémon Treecko knew.

And then, Berenike’s second pull managed to pull Treecko away from the Pokémon just lying there, dead.

Something within Treecko wanted to turn around, to stare more at it. But Pearl clutched at him even harder, and he didn’t. Instead, he thought of the Pokémon’s empty eyes, and—

(Talor hying them along, and then, a crash and a sharp cry, and Talor no longer behind them, and the one moment Treecko manages to look around before Zeynep shouts at him to keep running, Talor’s staring back, but something’s wrong with the way she looks at nothing and he realizes that this is what death looks like—)

The clinic, up ahead, was still smouldering, the light it gave off just enough to show that the door to old Fern’s had been pushed in. From the communal hall to their right came the unmistakable sound of voices, of hushed whispers, of crying.

For a moment, none of them dared to walk up to the door and knock. Zeynep, who’d normally act as their unofficial leader, couldn’t walk on her own and was… kinda out of it. She’d cried a lot, at first, and cried even more when they’d had to take her headscarf down to bandage up one of her legs because Pearl’s neckerchief had only been enough for the other leg. By now, she’d stopped crying. She wasn’t unconscious, but she… probably wasn’t all there, either.

Yaşar was holding Zeynep and needed both his hands. Berenike…

Treecko looked over to her. Berenike was still holding Pearl’s hand, but she was staring in the direction of the clinic. Or, not the clinic, he realized. She was looking at her home right next to it, with a broken window and an open door.

Carefully, Treecko tried to separate himself from Pearl. She immediately turned to him, red-rimmed eyes, but no tears in sight, and after a moment of confused staring understood what he was trying to tell her. Instead of letting go of his hand, she let go of Berenike, who didn’t even seem to notice it.

Together, they walked to the door and knocked.

The voices suddenly became quiet, except for the crying, and then, quick steps came closer and the door was pulled open.

“I don’t even remember who opened it,” Grovyle admits, and a helpless laugh escapes him. “I should. It’s not like Stonesthrow was a big village or anything, and it’s not like many people were left after… all of this.”

Celebi grabs his shacking hand with both of hers and scoots even closer.

Darkrai… wants to ask about the why, because surely, whatever happened did not just happen for no reason. But even he knows that asking that right now might not be the best idea. Grovyle is very clearly distraught, in a way he had never been before. Not even when he realized who Pearl was. Not even when they almost died to…

Well, to Dusknoir playing unfairly.

In any way, the “why” just keeps being the only thing he can concentrate on. Why was the village left in that state? Or maybe, who left it in that state? Was it that Chen Yi, who was a villain after all? But could a single Haxorus cause that much damage? Not without the help of a stronger Pokémon, no.

Still. Grovyle had made clear, previously, that it had not been Chen Yi, at least not directly.

“Why?” Pearl whispers, her voice hoarse, the question Darkrai’s. “Why was Stonesthrow attacked? By whom?”

“It… It…” Grovyle starts, swallows heavily, and shakes his head. “Later. Please, later.”

“Okay,” Pearl appeases him, “Later.”

“For now… It’s… For now, the only thing you need to know is that Chen Yi was followed by those he’d stolen the Time Gear from, and that, after two weeks, they’d managed to track him down to Stonesthrow.”

He takes a deep breath, and suddenly, his hands stop to shake, he sits up straighter. Very clearly, he had finally managed to put on a mask.

“So, after we’d knocked, and they’d seen who we were, we were immediately let in.”

The great table in the middle of the communal hall, where the entire village could take meals together, had been pushed against a wall. The shelves for food-keeping were in disarray, having been moved as well but not as carefully as the table. Many things had fallen out but not been put back in place.

In front of the table, blankets and pillows were laid out. Some had always been kept at the communal house, because spending time together was often so enjoyable that no one wanted to go home. There were way too many pillows now, though, and they weren’t being used for a fun sleepover.

No, they’d been put on the floor so that people could lie on them. Many seemed to just be asleep, like Bikijan and Tarantoula. Jahangir was sitting next to them, Trapinch cuddled up close, not seeming to mind Tinkatink nervously changing her position again and again. Or Fatma, who was watched by Runerigus and by Konrad, her son-in-law, his Haunter by his side.

The moment he’d seen them, Yaşar started almost running towards them, and even Zeynep lifted her head the tiniest bit. Treecko didn’t watch their reunion, didn’t listen to Yaşar probably explaining Zeynep’s injuries and the need of medical help.

Instead, he searched for his family. For Lambert, or Tempest. Or Talor.

He saw old Fern sitting in a corner with Mudkip on her lap, a bandage around his front leg. Once she saw him, she signed, “In the other room.”

Treecko took off immediately, pulling Pearl with him. She stumbled along willingly and even pulled Berenike along, who’d at some point grasped her hand again.

The room to the side was there for sitting with each other, for playing games, for just enjoying each other’s company. There was normally a small table, many pillows, a shelf filled with games and even some centuries-old books. Now, it looked different.

Before he could see the change, Treecko already heard it – there was the sound of crying.

The moment he stepped through the door, he heard another noise, a noise he’d heard only twice before but never forgotten about – once, after his mom had died, and the second time after Clove had heard Thistle’s heart give out. It was Berenike from whom it had come, and then, she was roughly shoving him to the side, barrelling past him. Into the room, where humans and Pokémon lay, unmoving.

Others were crouched over them, were crying, staring, or doing nothing much at all.

Berenike ran to Georgios side. Georgios, who was sitting, sobbing next to Lothair and Ceruledge, Quilava curled up next to him and refusing to look at anything. The moment Georgios saw Berenike, he tried to stand up, and when he couldn’t manage that, he just caught Berenike, who almost fell into his arms.

Treecko stopped looking at them, then.

He also tried not to look at Jahangir’s Starly, lying with no one next to her, or at Eevee who was half covered with a blanket and all alone, and he didn’t dare look at auntie Mathilda, next to whom Aegislash was hovering, emotionless.

Instead, he looked at Tempest, who looked up, stared at them with wild eyes, and then sprung up to herald them out.

But Treecko still caught a gaze of Lambert crying, holding the unmoving Talor in his arms.

For a while, no one says anything, as Emerald takes a shuddering breath.

“You… You don’t have to continue,” Pearl whispers. “I… Sure, I want to know, but you don’t have to continue. At least not today.”

Emerald looks like he wants to object, but then, quiet, whispers, “Thank you.”

Things end quickly, after that. The other three move towards their pile of mats, with no words spoken but ‘Good night’, and Darkrai stays behind to take the first, and, as promised, second night watch as well.

He listens as the others’ breaths even out while staring at the cold remains of the fire, and ignores when he can hear his nightmares taking hold.

Instead, he stares at the open fields before him. A few trees stand in the distance, open fields between them. During summer, myriads of flowers of every colour bloom here. Now, only grasses and tiny flowers hidden between remain. If he squints, he thinks he can almost make out the edge of Oran Forest – it could also just be fog, though. It is autumn, after all, and while Darkrai might see better at night than most other Pokémon, that does not mean that he can suddenly see further distances.

Keeping watch… is somewhat boring. He enjoys the quiet it brings, enjoys being alone with his thoughts, but beside thinking, there is nothing to do. He cannot read, because that would defeat the entire purpose of keeping watch, he cannot busy himself with movement because it might wake the others.

Grovyle, as Darkrai has come to find out, is a very light sleeper. It is no surprise, of course, but quite unpleasant anyways. Quiet conversations seem to be alright, sometimes, but if there is no one to converse with, that is of no help to Darkrai.

He has noticed, though, that Grovyle sleeps more deeply if Celebi is lying next to him, something she has been intent on doing every night. And Pearl also insists on joining their pile, because the three of them are just that close, emotionally, and so, if one of them wakes, all of them wake.

Well. He knows that this is just them being close friends. And it is not as if Darkrai wants to join them – Celebi offered, but he obviously rejected. He really, really does not want anyone touching him as he sleeps. So truly, there is no reason to be annoyed. And yet, he is. He could use the time he has to keep watch to question just why that is, but he fears what the answer might be, and so, he ignores—

(It is obvious: he feels left out, but does not want to be included.)

—And so, he ignores it.

He turns around at the sound of rustling, followed by small feet making their way towards him. Careful to keep the quiet, Pearl sits down next to him.

“You should be sleeping,” he tells her, careful not to raise his voice above a whisper. A quick glance behind tells him that Grovyle sleeps, for now.

Pearl shrugs. Her answer is just as quiet. “Yeah, but my body refuses to do so. So I’d rather spend the time I’ll be awake anyways in your company.”

For a moment, Darkrai thinks of telling her that he does not need company… But Pearl would certainly be insulted by that. And was he not just thinking about how boring this is? As long as she does not take this as a chance to talk about ‘emotional stuff’, her presence is preferred. And thus, he just makes a noncommittal sound.

“So, one thing I’ve noticed…” Pearl starts, staring at the night sky. Darkrai already starts dreading whatever she might bring up, but as she continues, that fear proves itself as unnecessary, “The stars are arranged differently, now, aren’t they? Like, different from last time we truly watched them. With…” She trails off.

“Dusknoir,” Darkrai finishes, because not speaking the name at all feels like it would give the ghost power over their thoughts he should not have.

“Yeah,” Pearl sighs. “Him.” And another, heavier sigh follows.

“Guess in the end, you were right about him being up to no good. Although you definitely had more knowledge to work with than the rest of us.”

Darkrai, uncomfortable, does not say anything.

“I wish it hadn’t turned out the way it did,” Pearl admits. “I… kinda liked spending time with him.”

Darkrai still does not know how to properly react to such a declaration, and so, he shrugs. “He chose his actions.”

“As we all do. Doesn’t mean I can’t wish that things had been different.”

“And what will wishing do?” Darkrai asks, turning to look straight at her. “Wishing changes nothing.”

Instead of facing him, Pearl lets herself fall backwards. She stares up at the sky.

“I mean, Bidoof wished on new guild buddies, and then we came along.”

“Wished on what? A star?” Darkrai harrumphs, following Pearl’s gaze. “Even if he did, that is not a wish being granted, that is just how guilds work.”

“No,” Pearl rebukes, “Not a star. He told me he met a wish-granting Pokémon.”

Immediately, Darkrai’s mood sours.

“Jirachi,” he tells Pearl, “Can only grant the easiest of wishes. Tell them to ‘give you money’, and they’ll make the closest coins teleport to your side. Tell them to ‘rid you of your ability’, and—”

He stops himself, and, with another harrumph, stares at the grass instead. “Well. What I said. Wishing changes nothing.”

It is no surprise that Pearl has no answer to give to this. He made the topic personal in a way she cannot object to anymore.

Darkrai… would have preferred not to ever share this particularly debasing moment, but… it just slipped out. That familiarity of talking in hushed whispers with Pearl at night, no matter if in their room in the guild or beneath a starry sky, just made him loquacious.

And besides. All of this is just to show Pearl that he trusts her oh-so-much, even if he did not share an important bit about himself for very long. But now, now he trusts her so easily that it would slip out unbidden, that secret knowledge became naught but an accidental mention. She must feel so very reassured in their friendship yet again.

“Wishing itself changes nothing, yeah,” Pearl agrees, finally, and continues, “But that doesn’t mean that it won’t lead to change, led by the people who wish for it.”

There are so many things Darkrai could answer to that, so many better things, but instead, his tongue runs away from him again. “Inspired by Grovyle’s story, were you not?”

Pearl says nothing in answer.

And Darkrai…

“I-, I… That… It was uncalled for.”

“It was,” she agrees. “And it’s not just ‘Grovyle’s story,’” she adds. Before she can lecture him, Darkrai interrupts.

“I know,” he tells her. “Believe me, I know, Pearl.”

“Good,” she tells him, voice made of steel.

For a bit, they remain quiet. Pearl moves a bit to the side, and Darkrai stretches a bit, Pearl sits up, Darkrai scratches his neck, Pearl lies down again.

“Do you not want to try sleeping again?”

“Not really,” says Pearl. “I actually hoped… If you’d be willing, I’d enjoy if you told me about the stars again?”

The question should not catch him as off-guard as it does, because Pearl did mention the topic at the start, before the mention of Dusknoir derailed everything. And yet, it does, because it gives him a chance at the normalcy he so desperately craves.

“Yes,” he tells her, “Yes, of course,” he affirms.

“Autumn happens to be the time that some of my favourite constellations emerge,” he admits, not able to keep the tiniest smile from his face. The darkness and illusion thankfully hide it. “So, if you look in the direction of the circumpolar stars and look towards the right, approximately thrice the length of the distance between the two which are furthest apart…”

And he explains, and Pearl listens, and questions, and he elucidates, and for a few hours, it is as if nothing had ever gone wrong between them.

 

 

Notes:

You know what day it is. Happy Ides of March!
And welcome back to A Veil of Lies!

As you could expect, this chapter officially ends my hiatus – for which I profusely apologize again. I’m sincerely sorry. I am full of contrition. But yeah, jokes aside, I am sorry. A lot of stuff came together – the most stressful months for my job, writing a bachelor thesis, sick family members, pet deaths, even more stress in the family, my mental health taking a very big dip due to the aforementioned things and more; but also positive things like exploring new hobbies, having fun with friends, travelling for the first time in ages,… And yeah. All of that just made working on the story either very slow or just impossible for a while.

But! I’m back now, and that’s all that matters. And for future matters, I just want to reiterate that A Veil of Lies will NEVER be abandoned, unless I die. And even then, I have people who know about the rest of the story and who could at least do a summary of what was gonna happen/post the bits I already wrote. So, yeah. Rest assured, while future hiatuses are unfortunately always a possibility, abandonment is not.

So, when will the next chapter be out? In about a month, give or take. I am sitting on about 50.000 unpublished half-edited words for now, but I don’t want to press forward too quickly. Better just get back into a more or less orderly rhythm.

In the coming days, I will also finally answer all the amazing comments I got, and everyone, thank you so much. Thank you for your patience, and for always writing comments and showing your appreciation and just… everything.
(as a sidenote – unlike normally, I won’t start every comment with “I’m sorry I took so long to answer”. Not because I’m not – I am very sorry for that – but because I don’t want to write it out what feels like 34.982 times. So yeah, just know that I am sorry.)

Also, some of you might have noticed already, but there’s two podfics for the story now! The one by Sweet Cloud will sadly be discontinued, but still, if you enjoy podfics give the first two chapters a listen! Cloud does an amazing job at the voice work!
The second one by mercykiwidogg was started recently and will continue. So give it a listen if you like podfics, Mercy also does an amazing job at reading and voicing!
And thank you so much to you two <3

This concludes the author’s note for today, have a great day and stab a dictator!

Chapter 28

Summary:

Last Chapter: Pearl’s past, through the eyes of Grovyle, was explored, starting with him becoming part of a village called Stonesthrow which existed in the future. At the end of his retelling, however, the village was attacked by as of yet mostly unknown assailants, and the story ended there for the day. Afterwards, during night watch, Pearl and Darcy spent their time stargazing.

Overhead, the sun starts to break through the morning fog, chasing away its damp coldness. The cliffsides of Waterfall Cave had been left behind an hour ago, yet around them, the world still twinkles with dewy plants and stones. Soon enough, everything will dry up, the sun and incoming winds making quick work of the droplets.

The entrance to Mystifying Forest is visible just a bit further, which means that, finally, the group will split up. Which also means goodbyes.

“Be careful, yeah?”

“We should be the ones telling you that!” Celebi rebukes Pearl’s words. “I mean, you go missing once and suddenly, you’re a Pokémon! That has to take the crown.”

Pearl laughs, and it only sounds half-bitter. Mostly, she sounds embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be careful, too.”

She stares in the direction of the gnarled trees at the dungeon’s entry point, and then, turns towards Celebi and Grovyle. With emphasis, she repeats, “But I mean it! Please be careful. Mesprit knows that you’re arriving, but… things could always go wrong.”

“Dusknoir,” Grovyle says, grimmer than the rest of them. “We do not know what he has planned.”

Darkrai somewhat does, although, of course, these plans might have changed since Celebi and he escaped the ambush. Things did not go as cleanly as they should have, and the possibility that Dusknoir realized what Darkrai changing shape right in front of him meant is…

But still, he doubts that Dusknoir and his Sableye will suddenly lie in wait in random bushes along the way, biding their time until the moment Grovyle and Celebi pass by.

Imagining that is quite funny, though. As annoying as thinking of him is, imagining the big ghost hunkering down somewhere but still being too tall to be fully hidden, jumping out while shouting ‘Boo’ –  because this is Darkrai’s  imagination and if he wants to paint Dusknoir in an embarrassing light, he can absolutely do so – and then attempting to—

“Duskull.”

Darkrai looks at Grovyle, who seems annoyed.

“What?” he questions, no clue why he was addressed.

“Did Dusknoir mention any future plans, while you stayed with him?”

He does not even try to stop himself, he rolls his eye. While getting along with Grovyle has gotten easier, it is clear that he is still seen as an outsider who is not quite entirely trustworthy. “He did not. He fully expected to be able to kill Pearl and you and be done with things after that.”

“And after that?”

Darkrai’s delivery of the next words is dry. “After that, I escaped the stockade. Just as you two had done.”

Grovyle seems about to rebuke, probably to needle Darkrai along, and so Darkrai continues talking instead.

“I do believe that we will have to face him again,” he admits, “Because I cannot imagine Dusknoir giving up quite that easily. But I doubt that he would wait at a random bend on the paths to the Gears’ guardians.”

Grovyle frowns, and, crossing his arms, speaks. “We really cannot underestimate his tenacity. He followed me to the past, something none of us ever expected, and even managed to ambush me three times, specifically at the lakes.”

“Which was only possible because you had incited the Lake Guardians against you, and thus, they were very willing to let Dusknoir access their realms.”

“But they could not keep me out either, and—”

“We’ll be careful,” interrupts Pearl. “Darcy wasn’t told any plans, and guesswork won’t really do anything but make us antsy. We’ll just keep the possibility of him popping up somewhere in mind at all times, okay?”

Grovyle takes a moment to look at her, and then, sighs. “Alright, alright. I just worry.”

“I know,” acquiesces Pearl, “We all do.”

Grovyle nods, and then seemingly can’t stop himself from assuming them to be invalid, yet again, as he starts to explain, “If he shows up during your travels, keep in mind that he’s more of a motionless fighter. Likes to remain in the same position. But! Don’t get too close, he’s got more reach than one would expect, and he’s quick when he needs to be—”

Finally, Darkrai has enough, and the slightest bit too harsh, interrupts Grovyle. “I know all that, and I assume Pearl is also aware of it already.”

“You do? How?” Grovyle sounds honestly surprised, so much so that the anger he’d normally react with is absent.

Not wanting to linger on the topic, Darkrai simply states, “We fought once before.” He dismisses the statement with a wave of his hand—

“What? When?” Grovyle asks, and Pearl wonders, “But you said you fled the stockade without being noticed!” and Celebi, always looking to make an ill-timed joke, questions, “And you’re still alive after that?”

—or at least attempts do so.

Darkrai shrugs, hoping to make it seem nonchalant. “I did not fight him in the future. We are both ghosts of the same species. Obviously, he would want to find a chance for a friendly battle.”

“When?” Pearl inquires, her words almost an inquisition.

Darkrai keeps himself from huffing in annoyance. “Before he left with the Lake Guardians. I-, He insisted on a spar and I saw no way to refuse him.”

“And you never—”

“No, I did not tell anyone,” Darkrai interrupts, already annoyed by the point Pearl wanted to make. “Just as Dareios probably did not mention that the same happened to him. Not everything needs to be shared.”

He wonders, faintly, if Dareios did, indeed, fight Dusknoir. He decides against it. The banker never struck him as someone who would enjoy having brawls. And if he had fought, he would have at least spun a tall tale out of it.

For a few moments, there is a bad kind of silence, a silence which tells Darkrai that, again, they are judging him for not having told them everything which happens in his life. But then, surprisingly, Celebi turns into his saviour with but a simple question.

“Sooo… Who won?”

Darkrai looks at her for a moment, and then away. The loss still annoys him – of course, the illusion weakened him. Yet still, he should have fought better. How quickly he lost… He was not always this bad at fighting. So why is he, now?

Someone giggles, and it is Pearl who, with mirth clear in her voice, realizes, “You lost, huh?”

Darkrai crosses his arms and refuses to look at her.

Celebi squeals. “You’re embarrassed! That’s why you never told anyone!”

“I am not embarrassed!” Darkrai hisses, uncrossing his arms to ball his hands into fists. Dusknoir is not under a draining illusion! If he had fought with the same handicap, he would have lost!

…Probably!

“Dusknoir is incredibly strong,” Grovyle, half-heartedly, tries to defend Darkrai for once. But it is too late, as the two girls dissolve into annoying laughter. Which Grovyle does not attempt to refuse himself for too long – after a few moments of trying to keep a straight face, even he snorts.

Darkrai crosses his arms anew and turns away from them. If they want to sound like a brood of clucking Torchick, he won’t stop them.

“Anyways!” Pearl finally calls into the round, once she isn’t busy guiltily glancing at Darkrai and then giggling again, at least, “Let’s just all agree to be careful, alright? I don’t want to see any of us hurt.”

“Agreed!” cries Celebi and Grovyle nods, and when all three look at him, Darkrai easily tells them, “Yes, yes, agreed, obviously.” As if he is not always careful.

And then, the three of them, expectedly, hug. Darkrai stands aloof, because just imagining being included in an action like that is enough to make him shudder. Both Celebi and Pearl throw him a questioning glance from within their hug, and at each of them, Darkrai shakes his head.

Some touch… might be more agreeable than other touch, but ‘group hugs’ are very much not included in that.

And finally, after all of that, their two groups go their separate ways.

 

After two more days of travel, they arrive in the lower crystal cave, having fought their way through the Dungeon hidden within yet again. Pearl’s newly gained experience was apparent throughout their travels, and for the most part, Darkrai had been able to simply remain behind and watch her fight most of the feral Pokémon.

Once again, they arrive a bit away from the path leading to the small peninsula in the lake; but this time, there is no shouting, and, much more striking, there is seemingly no water. It had been transformed into crystals over a year ago, and still, they stand upright, though some more so than others.

Darkrai is still amazed by this feat of Azelf. How did he even plan it? How did he go about implementing the means of accomplishing it? One of these days, he should ask Azelf.

Azelf emerges from somewhere behind the peninsula. He waves at them as he approaches, as if Darkrai would have difficulty seeing the only other Pokémon beside Pearl in this cave.

“Darcy! Pearl!” he greets, a big smile on his face. Darkrai does not quite trust it, not after what happened with Uxie, but… it is nice to be received like this. Azelf’s newly regained appreciation is, of course, only a result of his lies… but still. It is nice.

(Nicer than the confrontation with Uxie.)

(Which could have been averted if he—)

(Well, what was he supposed to do?! There was no reason to share anything—)

(Trust is a reason in itself—)

(It is NOT.)

“Azelf,” Darkrai calmly greets, and - “Azelf!” -  Pearl, more lively, does the same, even going so far as waving back.

“I’m so, so, so happy you two are alive!” Floating down to Pearl, he opens his arms to offer her a hug, which Pearl, after a momentary confusion, gladly accepts. Once they have pulled apart again, Azelf turns towards Darkrai and hesitantly opens his arms.

(Azelf’s touch wouldn’t be too bad. It never was.)

Darkrai shakes his head. He does not need meaningless signals of pointless goodwill, and he especially does not need it in the form of touch. The offer was made, but its intent won’t be the same as it was for Pearl.

Unimpeded, Azelf just nods, lets his arms fall to his side again, and with a movement of his head, beckons them to follow. The two of them do so, Darkrai already knowing that Azelf is taking them to a more private part of the cave, and Pearl probably guessing it.

As they walk, Azelf starts up some inane chatter, which Darkrai tunes out, mostly. Pearl is happy enough to engage in the conversation, allowing him to simply trail behind and marvel some more at the crystals.

Some of the things Azelf tells them are useful to know – such as updating them on what he and his sisters did after Darkrai and Pearl were forced into the future. As it turns out, they mostly just calmed the town’s members and assured them that everything would turn out alright (even though, as Azelf admits, the three of them were not actually sure of that – at that point, Darkrai scoffs and asks “you think me that weak?” to which Azelf just laughs an apology), and, lightly, Azelf implies that they might have thought about ‘bringing others into the know’. Whether he means Dialga or, worse, Cresselia, by that, Darkrai is not sure. Asking in front of Pearl is impossible.

And then, they have already arrived at Azelf’s living space, his lake much smaller than the one Uxie resides at.

They step into what Darkrai knows to be Azelf’s living room, which is hewn right into the crystalline walls. The furniture, in contrast, is almost entirely made of pale wood. Together, they give the space an ethereal feeling, an early morning or calm sea contained entirely in here, without either being present.

Colourful carpets and pillows break up the monotony, creating a myriad of places to sit down. A book bound in a dark cover lies opened on a low, round table in the middle of the room, the only place of furniture also made from crystal. Judging from its shape, it might have literally grown here, and just been chiselled down until it resembled the intended object enough for the maker to decide that it was done. Next to the opened book stands a ceramic cup.

Their host takes a seat on one of the small stools situated next to the table, and in a fluid movement closes the book and shoves it towards the middle of the table. Pearl follows suit, choosing to sit down on Azelf’s right, her stool leaving a bit of space between the two of them. And Darkrai… hesitates. These chairs are most definitely not made for his size. Sitting would not just be uncomfortable, but also degrading.

Azelf watches him questioningly, until he seems to realize just what the issue is. Before he can cause a scene, Darkrai calmingly moves his hands up and down, and simply sits down on the ground between the two of them. The table is so low, that this way, Darkrai is at the correct height for it; and he would rather like to be a barrier between them so they cannot start having idiotic ideas.

“I can get you a pillow or a blanket,—” Azelf starts, turning half around on his seat, as if wanting to stand up and bring him one or the other.

Darkrai hurries to shake his head. “If I needed one, I would gather it myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“Would I state my intentions if I was not?” The statement comes out sounding more annoyed than Darkrai had meant to.

Azelf seems unaffected by his tone, and simply shrugs. Which could just as well be an objection. Darkrai, graciously, decides to ignore it; as a favour for having his unintended impoliteness ignored.

“Well. Then on with business, I guess.” The small Legendary lays the topic of a pillow to rest. “So, obviously, I already know about your misadventures, and about Dusknoir being a huge loser.”

Pearl nods sagely. Darkrai raises his brow at this phrasing, but decides not to comment. In a way, Azelf is right, anyways.

“And I know that you’re gathering five Time Gears – which we’ll definitely need. A sixth one would be preferable, in case anything happens, but I don’t think we have the time to gather that.” He chuckles. “Pun only half-intended.”

“Yeah,” agrees Pearl, “Especially since we still haven’t figured out how to get the fifth one, exactly. Emerald, I mean, Grovyle suspects one to be at a dungeon called Boulder Quarry? We wanted to ask you about that, actually.”

“Boulder Quarry…” repeats Azelf, very obviously caught off guard and not sure which, of the many boulder quarries existing throughout the continent, Pearl might mean.

Remembering a previous conversation about the topic the group had had – or, rather, Grovyle and Pearl, since Celebi had ignored them in favour of talking to one of Treasure Town’s many citizens, and Darkrai had not joined in out of principle – he knows which place Pearl is referring to.

“The one close to the World Abyss,” he states with all the gravity this dungeon needs to be referred to.

Azelf breathes out. “Ah.” It sounds strangled.  After a few seconds in which he does not seem to breathe, he finally takes in a big gulp of air, the sound much too loud in his home. “Yeah,” he finally tells them, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure a Time Gear should be there. Uxie will know more, I’ll ask him about it later.”

Not knowing or understanding just why Azelf might keep himself so guarded, Pearl happily says, “Thank you!”

“Of course, of course,” Azelf quickly agrees, “I mean, no one wants time to stop! But that dungeon’s pretty far away, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.” Darkrai opens his bag to take out the map they were given ages ago. He rolls it out and places it on the table, making sure that both Azelf and Pearl can see. Pointing at Treasure Town, he lets his finger trail over the route along the ocean, taking note of the inopportune coastline and the mountains right next to it at certain points. “At least about five or six days by foot, but with the upcoming winter storms, it might need even longer.” Then, he points out the sea route. “Or two to three days, if someone is willing to help you over the ocean. But again, with the likely storms, I am not sure anyone could be found.”

Azelf puts one of his hands to his chin and rubs it in thought. “Yeah, that’s not a great situation. There’s another Gear at the Giant Volcano, but that poses the same difficulties as the one you mentioned.”

Pearl groans. “I thought the Boulder Quarry was closer. Like, I assumed it might be next to Mount Horn or something.”

“Alas,” Darkrai says, “Things are never easy.”

“Not when it comes to saving the world, no.” Azelf laughs. “Well, we’ll figure something out. Maybe not right now, but I’ll talk with Uxie and Mesprit, I’m sure one of them will know what we can do.”

“You mean Uxie will know what we can do.”

Azelf laughs again, and then playfully slaps Darkrai on the arm. “Oh come on, don’t be mean to Mesprit.”

Darkrai freezes, because the touch was-, Azelf just-, why—

He knows Azelf meant nothing bad by it. He knows this, because he knows Azelf. Had known him. Is getting to know him again.

But the touch—

He hates touch. He hates touch.

His arms tingles, his arm burns, his heart freezes and beats so loud that he can hear nothing else, and if he could bite at the place Azelf touched, he would rip it off, tear it to pieces, until nothing but a bloody mess was left, and then, finally, he could breathe freely again.

(Yet he shouldn’t feel this way, because Azelf was always safe, did never mean anything by accidental touch, knew that Darkrai did not appreciate it but whenever he forgot, Darkrai did not mind too much.)

And yet, his skin seems to contract where it was touched.

But he must answer, must continue the conversation, must act as if nothing is wrong at all.

Azelf does not even have a lake in which he could wash this feeling off, anymore.

“Whatever,” he forces himself to huff, and he does not even have to try to make it sound annoyed, and like he wants to move on with the conversation.

“Let’s just figure out the stuff we can figure out?” Pearl speaks up. Darkrai does not miss the glance she casts at him, which almost seems… worried. But what would she need to worry about?

“Sounds like a good plan!” Azelf agrees, and then, seems to remember something. “Actually, before we talk about anything else, I’ve got a question for you two.”

“Yeah?” Pearl cocks her head. Darkrai tries not to concentrate on the feeling on his arm.

Azelf seems to be thinking intently about his next words. “Well. This might be a bit forward, but… are you two holding up alright? I know that we’ve got time constraints and the like, and that we haven’t known each other for… very long, I guess.” He side-eyes Darkrai, who appreciates the half-lie, but also…

“I’m aware that you’ve known Darcy longer than me,” Pearl says, sounding very, very tired.

“Uh… yeah. I… guess I have,” Azelf answers awkwardly. “Although we hadn’t been in contact even longer, if that helps? Like, I didn’t even recognize him when you two first came along!”

Pearl sighs. “One day, I will be told the story of how you met Azelf and his siblings,” she says, addressing Darkrai directly. “But I’m really not feeling like arguing today.”

Darkrai looks to the side. Was it not good enough that she got to know about his ability? He raises his hand and starts scratching his arm.

“Anyways. Sorry for the interjection. Thank you for asking, Azelf.”

Darkrai looks at her. Pearl has that typical smile on her face she always uses for others. “I’m alright. The travel to the future was… very much not pleasant, but I’ve had time to recuperate. And being welcomed back by everyone is nice!”

“It is annoying,” Darkrai grumbles.

“Yeah, that too, at least a little,” Pearl admits, a short laugh escaping her. “But I think everyone showing us that they appreciate us so much, that we were missed… I don’t know. To know that there are so many people who care about us, it’s just… very kind, I guess.”

“That is good to hear!” Azelf says, smiling as well, his tails swishing behind him in unison. “I, well, I get that you’ve heard it too often by now, but I’m really happy to know that you’re alright. Your disappearance was scary.” His tails slow down a bit as he tells them this, and as much as Darkrai still wants to rip his own arm out, he… accepts Azelf’s words and actions.

Azelf then reaches forward, past Darkrai, who immediately pulls away as to not allow even accidental touch. Once was enough for the day. Maybe the week.

He ends up not being touched, as Azelf simply takes his cup and takes a big gulp. His apparent nervousness soon becomes explained, as he speaks, seemingly very embarrassed about the words he addresses Pearl with.

“Listen, Pearl. There’s… Something I really need to speak to Darcy about.”

“In private?” Pearl asks, a deadness creeping into her voice Darkrai hates to hear.

“I…” Azelf looks towards Darkrai. “I think so. Unless Darcy told you about it already, but…” He sighs heavily. “Knowing Darcy, he probably didn’t.”

Darkrai glares at Azelf, the statement tasting like unripe fruit. “Who knows?” he goads, he defends himself, he lies, “I trust Pearl.”

He does not. He cannot. But… But for the sake of a final betrayal, she must trust him, again. For all his work to not have been for nothing, she must trust him again. She must.

“I could have already told her about whatever you want to talk about,” he adds.

Azelf looks between them. “Well, uh… It has to do with… someone’s… ability…?”

Pearl looks first at Darkrai, then at Azelf. Darkrai points at himself. Unless he misunderstood, Azelf was trying to imply that he needs to talk about Darkrai’s Bad Dreams.

Azelf nods.

Darkrai nods in response.

Azelf lets out a relieved breath. “Okay, okay, that’s good! Yeah, it’s about Dar-, Darcy’s ability.”

Pearl also lets out a relieved, shuddering breath, copying Azelf. “Yeah. I know about that! And I guess I do understand why you’d want to keep that private.”

So suddenly, she understands? But not when—

No, he interrupts himself. Pearl might have done many things, but she did not react badly to the revelation of his ability. In fact, as far as reactions go, she… might have been one of the most positive. Distraught, yes. But… But she kept trying to see the best in him, did not simply assume that he was always rotten, did not throw him aside for it.

Azelf nods. “Yeah. Yeah! Well, if you know, we can talk freely! Then, uh, give me a moment? Be right back!” He floats up from his tiny chair and hurries towards one of the rooms branching off from his living room, separated with wooden doors. It is quickly opened by him, and while it might not be on purpose, the door falls shut behind him again, baring both Darkrai and Pearl from watching what he does inside.

What a hurried exit.

At first, they wait in almost-silence, only the noise of someone searching for something from within the room Azelf went in interrupting it. But soon, it is fully broken by Pearl, who had been staring at Azelf’s cup for a while now.

“Can I have the water flask?” she asks Darkrai, her glance moving from the cup to their bag. “Or does Azelf have something like a kitchen around here?”

“Can you?” Darkrai questions back, and, for good measure, adds, “And how should I know? I do not make it a habit to visit him here.”

Pearl huffs, then glares. “May I have the fuc-, no, don’t look like that, you know you would deserve to hear a swear.”

Darkrai scoffs and crosses his arms, looking at the door Azelf disappeared through. “I would not. In fact, no one, at no point, deserves to either say or hear curses.”

Pearl stares, then, with a roll of her eyes, gives up. He will gladly accept this as the win it is, achieved with his superior logic and arguing.

“Please, Darcy. I’m thirsty, and last I checked, I can’t drink crystals.”

“Yes, yes,” he tells her, mollified by her nonverbal admission of defeat. And so, he does not needle her any longer, but simply just reaches into the bag and pulls out the flask. As he hands it to her, she suddenly raises the palm of her flipper, and pushes it back towards him again.

In confusion, he stares at her. “Did you not just—?”

“Yeah,” she tells him, “But you can use it first.”

“I am not thirsty.”

“I didn’t mean that you need to drink!” she hurries to explain. “I mean, you can, if you are thirsty. But, uh… For your arm. You’ve been scratching it ever since Azelf touched you.”

“I…” Darkrai starts, and trails off, staring at the aforementioned arm. Until he took the flask out of the bag, he had been scratching it, not even truly noticing the movement anymore. How closely was she watching him, to realize it happening? How obvious was he about it? Besides, his arm looks alright. Which might only be because of the illusion, which tends not to show any wounds, but still.

“I…” he tries again, and then, with a deep breath, nods. Without any other words spoken, he accepts her proposition. It might help.

In fact, it does help, the moment he pours a bit of water on his arm feeling like he is suddenly saved from whatever he was running from. He hands the opened flask to Pearl, who grabs it while making sure – and Darkrai can tell, now that he is watching her – to not accidentally touch his hand as this happens. He won’t voice his thankfulness for it, can’t get his throat to do so, but the friendly grin she gives him once she is holding the flask seems to imply that it was enough for her, anyways.

He rubs the water over his arm, feels its coolth alleviate pain he had been too busy to notice.

Once most of the water has been spread, he looks at Pearl, who is still drinking from the flask. They might have to refill it soon enough, although gathering the Time Gear from Azelf should not take much a lot of time. After that, Pearl can activate their badge, and back at Treasure Town they will be in a few moments.

Finally, the door opens again, and Azelf approaches, a small box held in his hands.

“Oh!” he exclaims as he looks at Pearl, “You should’ve mentioned you were thirsty, I completely forgot that you went through the Dungeon and everything!”

“It’s okay.” Pearl calms him, wiping away some droplets which escaped her beak. “I didn’t wanna bother you.”

Azelf sighs, although a laugh follows immediately after. “You two are horrible guests, you know that? Darcy doesn’t want a pillow, Pearl doesn’t want fresh water, and I bet you won’t even want to stay the night in this beautiful inn of mine.”

Pearl laughs. “Sorry, sorry!”

Azelf waves her off. “It’s alright, I understand! Well, anyways. What I was searching for…”

He approaches the table, and once he has reached it, places his box on it. It is made of wood, with a simple inlay in the shape of a star on top. The lid remains on it for now, no matter how much Darkrai would like to peek inside.

“Well. So. A certain someone, whose name shall not be mentioned, visited me during the year you two were away.”

He looks mostly at Darkrai when he says ‘a certain someone’, and there is a feeling of dread creeping up Darkrai’s chest, because he has an idea as to who Azelf might be referencing.

He hopes that he is wrong. He fears that he is not.

“And she kinda insisted on giving me a, well, a you-know-what. And, well… Since you’re staying so close to so many other Pokémon, Darcy, I thought that maybe… you should have it instead of me?”

Azelf finally opens the lid, and as Darkrai sees what lies within, that feeling of clawing dread turns sour, seems to rip open his chest until it has become anger. Just the mere reminder of her, directly before him…

It’s just a feather, he tells himself. Just a single feather. Nothing more.

Inside the small box, it lies, iridescent shades of yellow. He has been told that the colour seems to shift between yellow and green, depending on how the light hits it, but the effect is lost on him and his night-adjusted eyes.

“Oh, what’s that?” Pearl, leaning over the table to look inside the box, asks. Before she can catch a glimpse of it, Darkrai’s hand has moved over the box and forced the lid closed again, even ignoring that like this, he initiated touch with Azelf, who could not pull his hand away quickly enough – not that he attempted to do so.

“Nothing useful,” he tells her, sliding the box towards Azelf again. “So you can keep it.”

Azelf shakes his head, pushing it at Darkrai again. “Please. I know that you don’t do it on purpose, but if someone gets—”

Darkrai interrupts before Azelf can say what he obviously intends to, because… Pearl does not know about the endless nightmares. And she also shall never learn of them. Right now, he is just starting to gain her trust anew. Every hint of even more hidden truths will make her more likely to turn away from him, forever.

And he cannot allow that.

“Will you let this topic drop if I take it?” he asks.

Azelf exhales loudly. It seems like relief. “Yeah. Promise.”

Darkrai nods, grabs the box, and throws it into his bag without another look. If Azelf had wanted to keep the container, he should not have presented the feather this way. He must know that Darkrai avoids touching the feathers as much as he can, after all. Not because they have any kind of negative effect on him but…

Well. He never experimented enough to come to irrefutable results, but there is just this hunch he has, that his own touch might negatively impact the feathers’ effectivity. Maybe his presence does the same. That, however, he cannot help.

“But what’s it for?”

Darkrai looks at Pearl. Before answering, he glares at Azelf, as a warning. Azelf answers his gaze, confused.

“I will explain later,” he tells Pearl.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Azelf’s confusion morph into understanding, and then, the slightest narrowing of his eyes. Of course he would not approve of keeping any secrets.

“Promise?”

Darkrai looks at Pearl. She seems so… trusting. There is an apprehension to her mien, an understanding that Darkrai might not ever explain ‘later’ – because how often has he promised to do so, and then not told her anything? But ‘later’ is such a broad concept of time, and who is to say that his ‘later’ won’t be the moment he finally betrays her? And yet still. Through that apprehension, she asks him to promise, and she will believe him if he does.

He takes a breath, then nods. “Promise.”

The feathers, after all, have two intended uses – waking those who are caught in an endless nightmare, but also just keeping bad dreams at bay. If he tells Pearl just one of these truths, that should be enough.

To their side, Azelf seems to relax again.

“And if he refuses to tell you,” Azelf tells Pearl, “You can mention that I was here to witness this promise. Make Darcy behave that way.” He grins. To Pearl, it might seem friendly. To Darkrai, it seems like a threat.

How foolish he had been to think that Azelf would simply forgive him everything so quickly.

“He won’t,” Pearl says. “Refuse to tell me, I mean. I believe in that.”

What? He stares at her. She reciprocates the look and smiles. “Trust for trust. A fair deal.”

At that, Darkrai uncomfortably looks away. He pretends to open his bag to… order the things within. The box was just thrown in, after all.

For a few seconds, silence ensues, which is quickly broken by Azelf.

“Well! Let’s finally get to the thing you really came here for, the Time Gear!”

Darkrai stops his pretend-organizing of things to look at Azelf instead. He might just have created more chaos, actually.

The small legendary chuckles. “So… yeah. As you can see, it’s still encased in crystal.”

Darkrai and Pearl nod. That much is quite obvious.

“And now, don’t get me wrong, I thought about reverting it! But… for the longest time, I didn’t know if Grovyle would attempt to steal it again, so I thought it safer to keep it encased. And don’t worry, you won’t have to defend him to me,” he quickly says, once he notices Pearl opening her beak to say something.

“Both Uxie and Darcy vouched for him. I’d be an idiot not to believe them.”

“Just as you were when you decided to fight him on your own back when both your siblings—”

Azelf groans, droning out Darkrai’s voice. “Let’s pretend all of that did not happen. Please. I’ve had enough lectures by now.”

Darkrai snorts, but decides to be magnanimous this once. “If that is your wish.”

“It is,” Azelf agrees with a laugh. “So, because I’ve only known that Grovyle isn’t a threat anymore for about a week, I obviously haven’t gotten around to reverting what I did with the lake. That would take weeks, most likely, although just removing the crystals encasing the Time Gear could probably be done in like… two or three days. Maybe. I only experimented with smaller crystals.”

 He looks at Darkrai. Darkrai does not like the implications of his gaze.

“Well. I thought that, since it was you two coming to visit me, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, since Darcy can, uh, gather it…”

He’d begun his sentence with confidence, but as Darkrai stares at him, he visibly becomes more and more ashamed with each word spoken. At the end, it looks almost as if he is afraid of Darkrai biting his head off for the mere suggestion.

Darkrai entertains the thought.

Instead of doing so, he carefully states, “I have not even tried if I can walk through these crystals.”

Azelf, however, is quick with an answer. “I’m pretty sure they shouldn’t be a problem. They are the same composition as the other crystals here.”

“Wait,” Pearl asks, leaning forward so that she can see both Darkrai and Azelf, “There are crystals ghosts cannot pass through?”

Both Darkrai and Azelf nod. After a quick glance, it is decided that Darkrai should be the one to explain – he has the experience for it, after all. “Indeed. Some materials we can still force ourselves through, and others are as impassable to us as they are to everyone else. How else would you go about imprisoning outlaws who happen to be ghost types?”

“Oh, I never thought about that! What kinds of material can you not pass through?”

“Why do you ask?” Darkrai questions, “Are you planning on imprisoning me?”

Pearl’s eyes widen, horrified, and she shakes her head rapidly. “No, of course not! I was just wondering!”

Azelf giggles. “He knows that, Pearl. He just enjoys making you uncomfortable.”

“Stop giving away my secrets,” Darkrai grumbles. Then, he deigns to answer. “Most of the materials I cannot pass through are metals. Silver, I can still force myself through, but it is quite slow and also very, very uncomfortable. Gold, I cannot pass at all. The same is true for platinum. And then, there will sometimes be objects which only hold hints of the things I cannot pass through, and that… well, disparity is also quite good at making me reconsider.”

“And there’s some types of crystals Dar-, Darcy also does not like to pass through!” Azelf, unhelpfully, adds.

“But I have managed to get through all of them.”

“Yeah,” Azelf easily agrees, and then, a grin grows on his face. “Which is why you’ll definitely be able to pass through the ones surrounding the Time Gear.”

… Darkrai feels as if he walked into a trap. He huffs and crosses his arms.

“But only if you provide some food for me.”

“Well, obviously!” Azelf cries, indignantly. Then, with a grin, he admits, “I even managed to get some Spelon berries.”

Darkrai stares. “You-, but how-, they are out of season, and they don’t even grow on the grass continent—”

Azelf smirks. “I have my ways. So anyways, is that good enough repayment for the cruel task of gathering the Time Gear?”

“I suppose,” Darkrai grumbles, very much feeling like the winner in this exchange. Spelon berries! He has not had any in… years.

Getting the Time Gear should be easy with that incentive.

 

The crystals feel… strange to pass through. Like water, in a way; yet solid, depending on where he steps. He cannot see clearly where he is walking, and only the light emanating from the Time Gear is keeping him on track. All of this reminds him of hail pelting his skin in a storm. Darkrai is caught between thinking the feeling nice, or absolutely hating it.

This is one of the reasons he does not like wading through crystals.

Well. It could be worse. His ability to float made it easy to simply evade most obstacles while making his way to the middle of the lake, and only once he reached the almost dome-shaped cluster of crystals encompassing the Time Gear did he have to truly traverse through them. Turning the entire lake into crystals had most definitely been excessive, and yet, Darkrai understands Azelf’s intent behind it – not only did he prove the immense power he held, he also sent Grovyle the clear message to search for a Time Gear elsewhere.

And now, Darkrai just needs to take it and return to the shore.

How strange, to suddenly have been entrusted with gathering a Time Gear. A few years ago, he might have been attacked on sight, had he tried that. Perhaps not by Azelf, depending on how strong old feelings were; but Uxie and Mesprit would not have held back.

(And it would not even have been a crime if they had killed him for it.)

He suppresses the shudder trying to race down his back. Time Gear first, and once he is safely back in Treasure Town, he will allow himself to figure out just why the knowledge of having become the very criminal he always aimed to be tastes like ash on his tongue.

He reaches out and… hesitates.

There is danger in doing this.

(“Honestly, I really doubt anything will happen,” Azelf said, staring out at the lake. “Time’s already at its limit. Gone out of whack, if you want..”

Pearl, her gaze on Azelf instead of the Time Gear, seemed more unsure. “I mean, it’s not that we don’t wanna believe you… But time could stop. Darcy and I barely managed to get away from Mesprit’s Lake in time, and that was when Emerald first had to swim to the middle, buying us more time.”)

He agrees with Azelf’s assessment, or else he would never have even consented to retrieving the Gear. But the tiniest bit of doubt still remains in his mind.

With a deep breath, he grasps the Time Gear.

There is something akin to the smallest electric shock as he does so, and his claws tighten around it. Then, it changes, feeling akin to… wet tiles, surprisingly. For a moment, it almost seems to refuse to move from its position, as if pulling one of these crystals from their roots would be easier. The moment passes, and it gives, and Darkrai successfully holds it in his hand.

He takes a step back, and another, holding his breath. Nothing seems to happen, and he allows himself to fully exit the crystals. He takes a deep breath.

The Time Gear smells like morning dew and wind emerging between trees, like earth after rain and waves starting to crash against cliffs, like sulfuric lava moving slowly and flowers blooming on a cold morning, like yesterday’s leaves falling from trees and like tomorrow’s snow.

It smells like the passing of time.

And then, the earth begins to rumble.

For a second which feels like eternity, Darkrai does not understand what is happening. He was caught up in overmorrow and ereyesterday, next year and decades ago, never and evermore.

But then, he can hear sounds again, can hear Pearl shouting in surprise, and he realizes that Azelf’s predictions were wrong – time is not distorted enough quite yet, and now, time is about to stop here.

He turns around and almost flies towards the coast, not caring whether he accidentally floats through crystals or not. At the edge stand Pearl and Azelf, and something in his gaze must tell them what is happening, or perhaps, something behind him is happening which tells the same thing. He does not turn around.

Instead, he continues running towards them, uncaring the moment his body impacts with theirs.

Pearl, like agreed, reaches for his bag. Darkrai grasps Azelf’s hand and the one Pearl isn’t grasping towards the badge with, and with the sound of a click, they are gone from the cave.

 

 

 

Notes:

Author’s Note: Hello, everyone! This chapter is quite a bit shorter than the last chapters tended to be, but after talking it over with some friends and my beta, I decided to still publish it. The place is a logical place to stop at (especially given my penchant for cliffhangers, although I would not describe the ending as such; but I am also the author and know how things continue), and if I’d kept it under locks to edit more scenes, it would’ve at least been some weeks until I had anything finished enough.

Speaking of, the next chapter will be published… Uh… Let’s aim for the end of June this time. My exam season has already started, unfortunately, and will continue until the end of June. Moreover, some mentally exhausting things keep on happening, and yeah. Writing tends to be hard, then.

I also want to apologize for, yet again, not answering any comments. I truly set out to do so after the last chapter, but for one, my mental health wasn’t great; and the task has just become so… daunting. I still can’t promise to answer the comments this time, either, which I am incredibly sorry for. Just know that it’s nothing any of you wrote, just me not being in a great place to answer them right now.

But thank you very much for all of them! They lift my spirits so much, and every comment will be read, and read again, and re-read multiple times haha. I really appreciate them a whole lot!

And with that, until the next chapter, have a great start of the week!