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Some Legendary Pokemon are incredibly intelligent, possessing the capacity to think far beyond human understanding. The sum of their knowledge and memories can span hundreds, sometimes thousands of human lifetimes, detailed and clear.
Ogerpon was not one of those legendaries.
She had always been a bit childish. The longer she lived, the more her older memories ran together. One day blended into the next in her mind. The passage of time was unmeasured. Only truly unusual events would stick out clearly.
But there was one day, in its entirety, that she would never forget.
~~~
That morning had started like any other. The sun rose as it always did, shining through the rocks in broad stripes across the thin walkway to his and Ogerpon's cave - their home.
She had made a game for herself of skipping from sunbeam to sunbeam, twirling with each landing. He had laughed heartily and applauded when she insisted he pause his preparation of their breakfast to watch her longest jump.
There was a time when he worried more. When he would make her stay close and only let her play quietly and after dark. When he would stay up late some nights, cudgel in hand, on guard for an attack.
But it never came. The villagers dared not tread too high, and they did not fear the pair when they wore their masks. They had made a home for themselves.
He had no doubt now that they were safe. And neither did Ogerpon.
Soon, his cooking was done, and they ate together as the sun rose past the horizon. He asked her afterward to go gather some more berries for their stores, and she set out immediately.
She had taken her time that day, only picking the best berries she could find. She snacked on ones that were too ripe to store. She tossed away ones that were bruised. She searched for his favorites in particular.
She played with friendly Wooper and Poochyena and pranked a Mienshao. She watched the clouds. She took a nap.
If she had looked up at the sky at the right time, she might have seen a single black bird flying near the mountain. If she had glanced past the rice paddies, she might have seen a large dog traveling up the road. If she had stared at the cliffs, she might have just been able to make out an unfamiliar monkey-shaped figure climbing towards their home. She might have even caught the scent of peaches in the air.
But she did not. She had no reason to.
Until she returned.
It was late in the day. The sun was low in the sky once more, and she had expected the smell of dinner to come wafting down the rocky path.
But there was nothing.
No cheery call of her name. No fire lit outside their cave. No one.
She ran inside. He wasn't there either. Their few belongings were strewn about. Anything wooden was splintered; pottery, broken.
Distantly, a set of fireworks went off. The villagers were starting their festivities - it was the last night of this year's festival. Maybe he had escaped down the mountain to the village. Maybe he wasn't escaping at all, and a rowdy Pokemon had simply gotten into their cave while he went for a walk. Maybe she was getting all worked up over nothing.
A quiet groan of her name drew her to the bushes just outside. She let out a cry that only he would recognize as his name as she knelt beside him.
His clothes were torn. His cudgel was bent askew and dented from battle. His skin was bruised and sticky red seeped from beneath his clothes. Only their teal mask seemed no worse for wear, tossed into the bushes beside him.
She held him and fussed over his wounds. When she couldn't feed him a berry - he was coughing too hard - she tried to heal him with the very terrain. The bushes around them grew. He smiled as it seemed to numb the pain.
But it was not enough.
He patted her head, pet her cheek, murmured some words of comfort.
And then he fell silent.
His breath ceased. She could no longer feel his heartbeat.
He was all she had.
And he was gone.
Ogerpon cried.
She wept and screamed into his chest and curled into her ivy cloak, stained red. Pokemon across the slopes startled and ran for their burrows. The people of Kitakami would say for years afterward that the first sign of the ogre's rage was a wail that could be heard from the other side of the mountain, only able to be drowned out by the sound of festival fireworks.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, she eventually fell quiet. She took up his cudgel, donned the teal mask, and began descending the mountain. She rushed across the path, down the slope, around the bend, picking up speed as grief gave way to rage. The villagers had always feared them, but this was unthinkable - who could have done this? Who DARED-
She would have scoured the region - maybe the whole world - for the culprits, but she did not have to. The moment she reached the stairs of Kitakami Hall, she saw them. A little floating peach creature, lurking behind his three large companions who were strutting about, soaking in the admiration of the villagers, wearing their masks .
Those cherished gifts. Their most prized possessions. The only things that allowed them to interact with the outside world.
Truthfully, as beautiful as they were, she would have been content without them, so long as she had him. But now?
Without hesitation, she leapt forward with a deafening screech.
Ogerpon did not know what Pokemon types were. She had no concept of a move. She wouldn't have understood if asked to terastallize. At that time, she hadn't a name for any aspect of fighting - he had done all in his power to ensure she did not have to fight for more than a friendly spar.
But completely unbeknownst to her, she executed the most powerful, most brutal instance of Retaliate in semi-recorded history.
The teal mask was terastallized by the time her feet hit the ground again, bathing the terrain in a sparkling green. Okidogi was knocked face-first into the dirt, reeling from a critical strike directly to the head, his companions scrambling to find a good position for the impromptu battle. The surrounding crowd of villagers scattered in terror as Ogerpon leapt again, her Ivy Cudgel landing a direct hit to Fezandippiti's legs. She had been aiming for his chest before he took flight, but the pained squawk he let out was worth it. She rolled just in time to dodge some toxic sludge thrown by Munkidori - he was not so lucky in avoiding her next attack.
Memories of the battle blurred past the first few strikes. She barely noticed the townspeople fleeing. Not a single injury phased her, the teal mask drawing enough power from the earth to heal any wounds. The shift of her three opponents' cries from anger to fear only fueled her rage, which she all too eagerly converted into blow after blow; these greedy frauds traveled here, from who knows where, to raid their home, to take their treasures, and they weren't even strong enough to defend themselves or their stolen property! They couldn't dodge a single blow! They were terrible! They weren't holding a candle to her! If she had been there-!
If only she had been there. That was the last thing Ogerpon realized as she stood over their bodies, beaten into a worse state than he had been.
She turned to face the final culprit. He trembled pitifully. She knocked him away with a single swing.
If only she had been there. He would still be here.
Her bloodthirsty rage had quelled as quickly as it had come.
Before she could collect the other masks they had stolen, the elder villagers had begun showing up, their Pokemon in tow. She didn't want to fight them - she never had. Instead, she fled back up the mountain.
She laid his body to rest deep in the Timeless Woods, where the townsfolk did not venture often and the Pokemon were wise enough to not disturb a burial.
She stayed by him for a full day. Or was it three? She wasn't sure.
She knew he would have wanted her to keep living. Eventually, she donned the Teal Mask he had defended for her sake, and returned to their den. Her den, now.
~~~
“Ogerpon?”
A voice snapped her out of her reminiscing. She had no clue how long she had been staring at his resting place.
She turned back to her new human friend - an outsider, just like her. Just like him.
Just smaller.
“You see something?”
Ogerpon smiled and chirped something about an old friend.
He would have liked her new friends, she thought.
Her new friend didn't understand her, but smiled back anyway.
“Well, I finished making our sandwiches - you want some lunch?”
Ogerpon jumped and cheered and skipped over to their picnic table.
Remembering was important, but making new memories was nice, too.