ZeldaFan20
Coral Eye Trainer
Pokémon: Evil’s Awakening
For countless centuries, since the days when magic and myth were as real as life itself, many ancient legends have struggled to survive on the breath of the winds of Time. Many tales speak of mighty kings, far away lands, victorious battles - and heroes. However, there are also tales that take on a much darker shade; they tell of plague, war, tyranny, famine - and a lust for Power.
One legend in particular is just one of many that the people of a certain region still speak - a legend that nearly goes back to the centuries following the birth of our world:
In those days, there existed a great and beautiful kingdom, which was ruled by a wise and just king. This man was fair and gentle, and unsurpassed by anyone when it came to battle. His kingdom was well protected on all sides from his enemies: surrounded by dense forests, deep waters, immense mountain ranges, and vast deserts. However, this beautiful land was located so far away from the rest of the world that the creatures we call Pokémon were neither seen nor heard of within its boundaries.
In this great land many different races lived in harmony. They worked together, and helped each other, in order to maintain the peace that they thrived on. All who lived within this rich land were very happy and content, and felt certain that no harm or misfortune would ever overtake them.
But...these gentle and happy people were wrong...
One ill-fated day, a fell wind swooped across this peaceful kingdom: an evil man of great and terrible power had appeared. The full extent of his dark ambitions was not known, but it was written that he had come in search of a power far greater than his own - a power that was entrusted to the good king’s ancestors by the very gods who had created this wonderful kingdom.
With great cunning and falsehood, this evil man had managed to acquire this omnipotent power. With it at his command, the dark one overthrew the Royal family and plunged the land into darkness. Towns and villages were destroyed, millions of innocent people were killed without mercy, and monstrous creatures roamed free among the destruction. The people were in despair, and all hope of regaining their peace seemed to have died right there and then.
It happened, however, that a mysterious young child stepped forward, as if from nowhere, and declared that he would vanquish the Evil One. The boy had within his hands a brightly shining blade - a blade that, as it was also written, was forged by the very same gods who had given this stricken kingdom life.
The Evil One was amused with this child’s boldness; how could a mere boy possibly hope to overthrow a man who had the Power of the Gods at his command? As the battle raged on, however, the tyrant was shocked and enraged to discover the incredible strength and courage the child possessed. When the battle was finally over, the Evil One had been defeated; he had been sealed away into the very darkness he had hoped to bring to the world.
Everyone rejoiced for the child who had given them back their freedom and peace. The Royal family was overjoyed beyond measure, and sent for the boy in hopes of rewarding him for the brave deed, but it was discovered that the young hero had mysteriously vanished. In great distress, the king had every inch of his kingdom search for its nameless savior, but it was all in vain - their hero was gone.
For generations, the boy’s tale was passed down within this newly prospering kingdom...
Unfortunately, the people were once again unprepared for what lay ahead...
The green fields suddenly split apart into a deep crevice. Out of this crevice emerged a monstrous shadow-like figure, surrounded by fire and legions of horrific entities on all sides. The people were thunderstruck; no one believed it could be possible...the Evil One had returned!
In the guise of a terrible monster, the Evil One spread his terror throughout the land once more. This time, however, the destruction came down in a red wrath, and absolutely no one was safe from his dark power.
Despite the tragedy, everyone believed that the young hero of legend - or someone like him - would come to their aid...but, to their dismay, a hero did not appear.
The people were faced by an onslaught of the Evil One’s wicked reign, and were unable to do anything but appeal to their gods. In their last hour, as doom drew close, the people left their destinies in the hands of Fate.
Even to this day, none remain who know what became of that ancient kingdom...
None...that is...except...
Several hours to the south of Hoenn, there lay a vast sea. Scattered across this sea were a large number of various islands: large, small, some with one or more small islets, a few even had different shapes - stars, moons, etc. On one of these islands - almost directly in the heart of the whole archipelago, things were not what they seemed to be.
Along the shores of this island was a fairly large city; a mixture of traditional and modern architecture lined the suburban roads, along which the street lamps burned brightly during the late hours of the night. The only other lights at that hour came from the flashlights of night watchmen, who were busily making their rounds at the local museums and office buildings. Suddenly, twelve chimes disrupted the silence that night; the large bell at the local church was signaling the midnight hour.
The church doors opened at the same moment the bell stopped chiming, and a tall figure wearing a long hooded robe stepped quietly out onto the street. Another hooded figure came out of a house two blocks away; one came out of an apartment building; a fourth emerged from the house next door to the first; two more silently left their home - across from an elementary school. These six figures walked with hurried steps as they made their way to the center of town, all the while keeping under the cover of night.
They all gathered at a set of gates, which led straight to the town cemetery. After making sure everyone was present, one figure unlocked the gates and began to usher the others within. Once the gates were relocked, they all continued down a dirt path, passing stones of various sizes, sculpted angels, private mausoleums; many of which dated back more than hundreds of years. Upon reaching the end of the path, the group saw a door-sized stone archway at the base of a hill, the opening blocked by a thick wooden door. The same figure unlocked it too, and saw that everyone had made it through before entering also.
Within the hill was a long tunnel made entirely out of earth and rock - possibly hand-carved by islanders years before. In single file, these strange people made their way down the tunnel for what seemed like five minutes. Soon, the group had reached their destination.
At the end of this tunnel was a large inner chamber, also carved out rock and earth. A big bonfire had been lit in the very center of the floor, and yet they could plainly see that there was nothing to keep that fire burning - no wood, no oil, no coal, no anything. Still, no one had a chance to ask questions:
Standing opposite the new arrivals was another hooded figure; they knew it was a man because his snowy white beard was clearly seen in the firelight. He raised an arm, and beckoned them to approach.
All seven people gathered closely around the fire and removed their hoods. They were all elderly men and women, ranging from around seventy- to eighty-years old, only the seventh member seemed to be much older. He surveyed everyone present for a little while without speaking a single word.
“Well met, brothers and sisters,” he said finally.
“Well met, Milord,” was the response.
“I trust that all preparations for the event have been completed?”
“Yes, Milord,” said the bald, clean-shaven man to his left, “just as you’ve requested; everything is ready for next week.”
“Excellent,” the leader said pleasantly, “Now, the guests will be arriving in exactly three days time. Upon their arrival, I do not wish for them to know the real reason behind it. Once it begins, all must be played out to the very end; no exceptions will be permitted.”
Just then, an old woman directly across from him spoke up, “Then, it is true, Milord - you have made your decision regarding the young Lady?”
Everyone was silent following the question, both hoping and fearing that their leader would give an answer. When it did come out, he was straight and to the point:
“I have.”
There were worried looks all around the circle as they exchanged glances at one another; this decision was what they have all feared since the last time they had gathered together. The man looked at them and smiled gently,
“There is no need to be so grave; I assure you that this is absolutely necessary. It is true that the young Lady is well prepared politically, but she is still unskilled in her own heritage, and I do not have much time left...”
“Milord!” a man on the right - this one with a gray beard and bushy hair - instantly exclaimed, “Milord, please don’t say that; it is too soon to...”
The leader raised his hand for silence, still retaining his gentle smile, “I appreciate your patronage, brother, but I know more than anyone that my time in this world draws to an end. When that time comes, you must all give the Lady your full support and council.
“In the meantime, we must all concentrate on the event that is to take place next week. As I have said, it is absolutely necessary if we are to secure the future of our region as well as that of the Lady. I would not be telling you all this if I was not serious.”
Everyone bowed their heads with much sorrow in their hearts; they all knew that what he said was the truth. However, they also knew it would be very hard to say good-bye to a dear friend, even after so many years. Before the meeting was called to an end, however, another old woman, who was literally bent over with age, decided to speak; her wrinkled face lined with hope as she did so:
“Do you truly think the prophecy will come to pass, Milord?”
All the members were raising their hoods as the question was asked. The man stopped and looked into her face: he knew which prophecy she was talking about. His eyes were totally fixed on the dying flames as all hoods were raised completely.
“I have no doubt in my mind,” he said.
“But how will we know?” the first woman asked.
Once again, the leader did not answer right away; he bent down, took some water from a nearby bucket in his cupped hands, and sprinkled it over the fire. They all watched as the last remaining flames died, and the entire chamber was slowly engulfed in the silent darkness.
“You will know.”
Pokémon: Evil’s Awakening
Prologue
Prologue
For countless centuries, since the days when magic and myth were as real as life itself, many ancient legends have struggled to survive on the breath of the winds of Time. Many tales speak of mighty kings, far away lands, victorious battles - and heroes. However, there are also tales that take on a much darker shade; they tell of plague, war, tyranny, famine - and a lust for Power.
One legend in particular is just one of many that the people of a certain region still speak - a legend that nearly goes back to the centuries following the birth of our world:
In those days, there existed a great and beautiful kingdom, which was ruled by a wise and just king. This man was fair and gentle, and unsurpassed by anyone when it came to battle. His kingdom was well protected on all sides from his enemies: surrounded by dense forests, deep waters, immense mountain ranges, and vast deserts. However, this beautiful land was located so far away from the rest of the world that the creatures we call Pokémon were neither seen nor heard of within its boundaries.
In this great land many different races lived in harmony. They worked together, and helped each other, in order to maintain the peace that they thrived on. All who lived within this rich land were very happy and content, and felt certain that no harm or misfortune would ever overtake them.
But...these gentle and happy people were wrong...
One ill-fated day, a fell wind swooped across this peaceful kingdom: an evil man of great and terrible power had appeared. The full extent of his dark ambitions was not known, but it was written that he had come in search of a power far greater than his own - a power that was entrusted to the good king’s ancestors by the very gods who had created this wonderful kingdom.
With great cunning and falsehood, this evil man had managed to acquire this omnipotent power. With it at his command, the dark one overthrew the Royal family and plunged the land into darkness. Towns and villages were destroyed, millions of innocent people were killed without mercy, and monstrous creatures roamed free among the destruction. The people were in despair, and all hope of regaining their peace seemed to have died right there and then.
It happened, however, that a mysterious young child stepped forward, as if from nowhere, and declared that he would vanquish the Evil One. The boy had within his hands a brightly shining blade - a blade that, as it was also written, was forged by the very same gods who had given this stricken kingdom life.
The Evil One was amused with this child’s boldness; how could a mere boy possibly hope to overthrow a man who had the Power of the Gods at his command? As the battle raged on, however, the tyrant was shocked and enraged to discover the incredible strength and courage the child possessed. When the battle was finally over, the Evil One had been defeated; he had been sealed away into the very darkness he had hoped to bring to the world.
Everyone rejoiced for the child who had given them back their freedom and peace. The Royal family was overjoyed beyond measure, and sent for the boy in hopes of rewarding him for the brave deed, but it was discovered that the young hero had mysteriously vanished. In great distress, the king had every inch of his kingdom search for its nameless savior, but it was all in vain - their hero was gone.
For generations, the boy’s tale was passed down within this newly prospering kingdom...
Unfortunately, the people were once again unprepared for what lay ahead...
The green fields suddenly split apart into a deep crevice. Out of this crevice emerged a monstrous shadow-like figure, surrounded by fire and legions of horrific entities on all sides. The people were thunderstruck; no one believed it could be possible...the Evil One had returned!
In the guise of a terrible monster, the Evil One spread his terror throughout the land once more. This time, however, the destruction came down in a red wrath, and absolutely no one was safe from his dark power.
Despite the tragedy, everyone believed that the young hero of legend - or someone like him - would come to their aid...but, to their dismay, a hero did not appear.
The people were faced by an onslaught of the Evil One’s wicked reign, and were unable to do anything but appeal to their gods. In their last hour, as doom drew close, the people left their destinies in the hands of Fate.
Even to this day, none remain who know what became of that ancient kingdom...
None...that is...except...
Several hours to the south of Hoenn, there lay a vast sea. Scattered across this sea were a large number of various islands: large, small, some with one or more small islets, a few even had different shapes - stars, moons, etc. On one of these islands - almost directly in the heart of the whole archipelago, things were not what they seemed to be.
Along the shores of this island was a fairly large city; a mixture of traditional and modern architecture lined the suburban roads, along which the street lamps burned brightly during the late hours of the night. The only other lights at that hour came from the flashlights of night watchmen, who were busily making their rounds at the local museums and office buildings. Suddenly, twelve chimes disrupted the silence that night; the large bell at the local church was signaling the midnight hour.
The church doors opened at the same moment the bell stopped chiming, and a tall figure wearing a long hooded robe stepped quietly out onto the street. Another hooded figure came out of a house two blocks away; one came out of an apartment building; a fourth emerged from the house next door to the first; two more silently left their home - across from an elementary school. These six figures walked with hurried steps as they made their way to the center of town, all the while keeping under the cover of night.
They all gathered at a set of gates, which led straight to the town cemetery. After making sure everyone was present, one figure unlocked the gates and began to usher the others within. Once the gates were relocked, they all continued down a dirt path, passing stones of various sizes, sculpted angels, private mausoleums; many of which dated back more than hundreds of years. Upon reaching the end of the path, the group saw a door-sized stone archway at the base of a hill, the opening blocked by a thick wooden door. The same figure unlocked it too, and saw that everyone had made it through before entering also.
Within the hill was a long tunnel made entirely out of earth and rock - possibly hand-carved by islanders years before. In single file, these strange people made their way down the tunnel for what seemed like five minutes. Soon, the group had reached their destination.
At the end of this tunnel was a large inner chamber, also carved out rock and earth. A big bonfire had been lit in the very center of the floor, and yet they could plainly see that there was nothing to keep that fire burning - no wood, no oil, no coal, no anything. Still, no one had a chance to ask questions:
Standing opposite the new arrivals was another hooded figure; they knew it was a man because his snowy white beard was clearly seen in the firelight. He raised an arm, and beckoned them to approach.
All seven people gathered closely around the fire and removed their hoods. They were all elderly men and women, ranging from around seventy- to eighty-years old, only the seventh member seemed to be much older. He surveyed everyone present for a little while without speaking a single word.
“Well met, brothers and sisters,” he said finally.
“Well met, Milord,” was the response.
“I trust that all preparations for the event have been completed?”
“Yes, Milord,” said the bald, clean-shaven man to his left, “just as you’ve requested; everything is ready for next week.”
“Excellent,” the leader said pleasantly, “Now, the guests will be arriving in exactly three days time. Upon their arrival, I do not wish for them to know the real reason behind it. Once it begins, all must be played out to the very end; no exceptions will be permitted.”
Just then, an old woman directly across from him spoke up, “Then, it is true, Milord - you have made your decision regarding the young Lady?”
Everyone was silent following the question, both hoping and fearing that their leader would give an answer. When it did come out, he was straight and to the point:
“I have.”
There were worried looks all around the circle as they exchanged glances at one another; this decision was what they have all feared since the last time they had gathered together. The man looked at them and smiled gently,
“There is no need to be so grave; I assure you that this is absolutely necessary. It is true that the young Lady is well prepared politically, but she is still unskilled in her own heritage, and I do not have much time left...”
“Milord!” a man on the right - this one with a gray beard and bushy hair - instantly exclaimed, “Milord, please don’t say that; it is too soon to...”
The leader raised his hand for silence, still retaining his gentle smile, “I appreciate your patronage, brother, but I know more than anyone that my time in this world draws to an end. When that time comes, you must all give the Lady your full support and council.
“In the meantime, we must all concentrate on the event that is to take place next week. As I have said, it is absolutely necessary if we are to secure the future of our region as well as that of the Lady. I would not be telling you all this if I was not serious.”
Everyone bowed their heads with much sorrow in their hearts; they all knew that what he said was the truth. However, they also knew it would be very hard to say good-bye to a dear friend, even after so many years. Before the meeting was called to an end, however, another old woman, who was literally bent over with age, decided to speak; her wrinkled face lined with hope as she did so:
“Do you truly think the prophecy will come to pass, Milord?”
All the members were raising their hoods as the question was asked. The man stopped and looked into her face: he knew which prophecy she was talking about. His eyes were totally fixed on the dying flames as all hoods were raised completely.
“I have no doubt in my mind,” he said.
“But how will we know?” the first woman asked.
Once again, the leader did not answer right away; he bent down, took some water from a nearby bucket in his cupped hands, and sprinkled it over the fire. They all watched as the last remaining flames died, and the entire chamber was slowly engulfed in the silent darkness.
“You will know.”
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