Username + ID: Westsparrow 951487
Pokemon being used/link: Donovan
Archive: X
Prompt: 6. What is your Pokémon backstory/history? Where did they come from? Did they originally live somewhere else?
The Tale of Donovan the Great Adventurer
In a cozy home nestled somewhere within a tiny obscure town, a young rufflet watches the human kid he is seated with flip through the channels of a small TV. Battle tournaments, world news, updates for aspiring pokemon masters - none of it interests neither boy nor pokemon.
A shrill jingle calls out the beginning of a documentary - and the rufflet at the boy’s side grabs the remote in his beak to prevent immediate change of the channel. The introduction speaks of a pokemon who traveled the land rescuing those in need, who saw the world in these adventures.
“Join us!” The televised program calls. The boy lowers the remote to the couch-side table where he and the rufflet lean closer to the screen to absorb the content of their newfound interest.
A call to head to bed from the boy’s parents goes uncared when the two are closely intrigued by such a show.
“Return next weekend for the next episode!” The show would call out before they would finally be chased to bed. And return they would, for more and more shows. Until the size of the TV would change, the couch in a friendly living room would become a lounge chair in a cramped rental room. So too would the boy who sat beside the rufflet become a young man, and the rufflet become a braviary. The two close companions would always return to watch their favorite show, dreaming of a life better than that of a small farm village. Dreaming, but never seeking, seeing, but never reaching.
Reaching finally when it was too late, when the man would one day fall to the floor and the braviary would learn the beep of a hospital room to become the norm instead of their safe home of which they could no longer return to.
The eyes of his companion for most of life turn to him as that annoying beep within the room would finally falter from its steady pace.
“Go. Be great.” The man tells him.
The braviary replies with a sorrowful trill as the noise he’s come to hate remains permanent.
The window is open, he looks to it and sees the stars beyond it.
The world above him is open, when fog weighs down upon rows of gravestones and loved ones weep silently into stars that cannot be seen, he realizes how much he wants to see them, the stars.
To the wind, to the skies, it is there that he then flies. As high as he can reach, until the clouds leave mist along the tips of feathers that gently caress their delicate forms. The mist turns to thick, battering droplets and the wind begins to howl like a houndour calling to his doom. The elements of a storm batter him high in the sky, yet he continues to fly, knowing that should he fall beneath the clouds he would risk being struck by lightning. He thinks in this moment that this may be where he will perish, when he finally would fall from exhaustion - or struck out of the sky in a spark of light before he knew what hit him.
All at once, the rain would stop, as if one had pressed the button of pause on the weather that battered his exhausted form. Thunder cracks all around him and the lightning takes the form of another figure that emerges from the clouds. An unfamiliar pokemon hovers before him, feathers stuck every which way as if permanently electrocuted, a beak like an arrow, and the eyes of the depths of a storm.
“You should not be here.” The bird made of lightning tells him.
“I am lost.” He replies.
“One cannot be lost if they do not have a destination for which to head.” Is the reply in a hollow voice with an edge sharp as lightning and a rumble like thunder.
The bird with the feathers made of lightning and the voice made of thunder then parts the storm for him and allows him to pass unharmed.
He is unsure how long he spends. Flying high into the sky so that he cannot see the ground beneath him, so that he is not tempted to stop. Only when the winds holding him aloft begin to buckle and he must gently lower himself back to land like an air balloon that has run out of fuel. He lands in a forest, for he is unsure how long he has flown. Curious pokemon peer at him from behind bushes and the tops of trees. The night calls of the nocturnal sing him a lullaby of lost dreams.
He awakens to the curious rays of sunrise and a shrill call for help that sends pidgeys fluttering into the sky in its wake. He waits, yet when the calls continue without aid, he cannot wait longer than his heart will allow. For there was still a part within him that chased this dream, and to him, this was enough.
A young sobble stands shivering under the shadow of the huge enemy that overpowers their very size. Unable to simply stand and watch, the braviary races forward and in the fierce attacks that he has known all his life, he knocks the large enemy unconscious. He turns to leave, only for a tug at the feathers of his tail to bring his gaze to return to the small figure behind him. The sobble thanks him profusely, yet proclaims that they had become separated from their trainer and asks if he would be willing to take them back to the pokecenter of the nearest city where they may wait to be reunited.
Though he would sigh, he would find himself making his way into a town not far from the forest in which he had seen his rest the previous night, with small company seated upon his back as he flew.
He would be greeted by a trainer with an aeronaut’s gloves, goggles upon the man’s head that would fall into his eyes as he rushed forward to envelop both braviary and his hitchhiking companion in a hug filled with tears and praises. The trainer would pick the sobble up in those aeronaut’s gloves and the two would twirl in joy of reunion.
Humans and pokemon alike sang his praises. The trainer with the aeronaut’s gloves would offer him a pokeball or a payment of gratitude - a home or an acknowledgement. He rejects both, and the eyes of their company would widen. Yet the trainer with an aeronaut’s gloves would simply smile and nod, as if to understand his choice. Then, the man would take the goggles from upon his head and place it upon that of the braviary.
“To aid you when you are in the clouds, friend of the sky.” He would say. Then, as if pausing in a moment’s remembrance, the trainer with the aeronaut’s gloves would reach into the bag around his shoulders and pull out an object on a necklace. When he placed it around the neck of the braviary, it would pop open to reveal a compass.
“To aid you when you are lost and cannot find your way, fellow adventurer.” The man said.
The braviary is shocked at such kindness, and it is there in that town that he remains to see the trainer with the aeronaut’s gloves (head now void of the goggles that would fall across his face for they are now seated upon the head of the braviary who watched with eyes of wonder) and the sobble so small they could be a hoppip as the two leave upon an air balloon so grand and colorful that he cannot help but cry out a call of goodbye and longing.
The goggles and the compass gifted to him by a face he will not forget prove useful to his aimless journey. He would know now where to stop, when to continue, so as not to tire.
It would seem that without failure, within every town he deigned to stop within to rest, there was yet another in need of help. At first, he would simply come upon these occurrences by chance, however, eventually they would begin to approach him purposefully. He would become known, recognized. They would inquire his name, he would reply and they would call him “Donovan”. That name, being that which belonged to the man who had once been his companion since childhood.
Donovan the Great Adventurer, they would call him, Donovan the Rescuer, Donovan the Explorer.
They would form a TV show in his honor as his fame spiraled to something globally viral. Once the one who watched the show that made him long to see how far the world would go, how high the sky could reach - now the one who inspired others in this very same way. For he was the one who accomplished great things, the adventurer others admired, the one who had seen every corner of the world. Yet, he would admit that he had not truly seen every corner and thus would always continue his journey until he could truly map that which none had ever discovered before.
He would often find himself signing the autographs of those who would tell him how much they wanted to be just like him. He would think about how lucky they were to be able to meet their hero, and how And he would smile and tell them that if they tried hard enough, they too would reach his level of greatness. Though deep within the hidden secrets concealed in his mind and behind closed doors he would frown with sorrow and apology knowing that the words he spoke were simply false assurances. For his fame had been gained simply by chance. His dream which he hadn’t even known was a dream back at his younger age was something he did not purposefully pursue, no matter how much he enjoyed such a way of living now.
Among the adoring fans there was one in particular who stood out. It was a little rufflet who reminded him quite a bit of his younger self. The rufflet often dragged a ducklett who the braviary could only assume to be a good friend to any and all events Donovan hosted, where the duo would sit front and center. When he asked a question, a little grey wing would be the very first to shoot into the air with immense enthusiasm. The rufflet answered quizlet questions that not even Donovan himself remembered the answers to, and as a result the small pair of young friends often left events carrying more merchandise than their little wings could possibly hold.
Never before had Donovan thought that someone could reach his level through sheer determination and will - through enthusiasm alone. Yet for the first time in his career of fame, the braviary saw the promise of greatness in one small rufflet with an enthusiasm larger than his own being.
One day, something most peculiar would happen. He would be doing what had now become his life’s duty pursuing the rescue of one small and in-need, when suddenly before he would properly happen upon the scene, he would find that the issue had already been solved and the one in danger was being cheerfully assured by a small rufflet. That very same rufflet. Since that very day, Donovan had begun backing off, watching from afar as the rufflet completed several tasks that would typically be within his job without ever thinking twice. The public would dislike this, enraged that this kid was solving problems in place of their beloved adventurer Donovan. So of course, it would surprise them all when one day before a crowd of thousands, Donovan would come and place a gentle wing upon the head of the small rufflet that peered up at him with eyes of wide wonder.
“What is your name?” He would ask.
“Champ! I’m Champ!” The kid would answer.
“I’ve seen what you can do, little Champ. You have great things ahead of you. How would you like to join me on my adventures? To follow in my footsteps and continue my legacy?”
The rufflet would promptly almost faint from excitement as he enthusiastically proclaimed a loud "yes!" and Donovan would wonder before he slept that night if he made the right choice taking the kid under his wing.
Yes, he would think the very next day, as he watched Champ assure others with a wisdom of words not even Donovan himself ever could, you were destined for this. Just the same as I..
Though he had made his place in the world by chance, it was not unreachable by determination alone. That much he now knew.
(2126 words)
___
Username + ID: Westsparrow 951487
Pokemon being used/link: Chase
Archive: X
Prompt: 6. What is your Pokémon backstory/history? Where did they come from? Did they originally live somewhere else?
The Aeronaut and The Light
When an aspiring aeronaut trainer picked up a sobble from a row of starter pokemon that had been presented to him, the newly adopted pokemon had no idea what was in store for them.
“Are you sure about that one?” The professor had asked.
“Absolutely sure.” The young man would answer as he stubbornly held the pokeball in his arms.
The trainer would quickly find out that his new partner was abnormally small and as a result, their attacks were not very effective. However, that would not deter him at all, and the two would become close companion’s on the aeronaut’s travels. The sobble would receive the name “Chase”.
Chase, simply put, was raised in the sky. From the very beginning, the view from the spacious basket of the giant hot air balloon was daily life for them - and they loved it dearly. Their trainer was an aeronaut, and picked no other companions to aid him besides Chase.
Once, when they had sought to approach a town to rest after a lengthy journey without break, yet before they would reach the city, a low-swooping pidgeotto would snatch the curious small sobble right from the basket. They would watch as the concerned shouts of their trainer faded into the distance as the wind would push the giant balloon in the opposite direction of the
Thanks to their size, however, they would
The sobble thanked their mysterious savior profusely and ask if they could hitch a ride to the city they had been headed for where their trainer would most certainly be waiting.
After reluctant agreement and brief travel, the braviary would take them to the pokecenter of their destination where, just as expected, the open arms of an incredibly relieved aeronaut would be waiting for them.
Chase watched their trainer grant the braviary with gifts, and their hero would deny the company of a pokeball much to the shock of others, before the mysterious pokemon would see them off as their hot air balloon set off on the road to further adventure.
The little sobble would not forget this grand hero.
It’s no surprise that when Chase finally reached their final evolution, they had become different from any other inteleon. They could glide farther than any other, they could fly like a zubat if they even tried hard enough. Having spent so much of their life in the sky looking down, they had oddly taken on the appearance of a flying type pokemon. Gliding beside the basket of the hot air balloon while their aeronaut companion would wave to them, climbing below the basket to fix any holes that formed from weather, it all became the norm.
So much so, that they did not realize how much their human companion had begun to struggle more and more with age.
Their trainer, their aeronaut companion for many, many years would approach them one day.
“I am growing old, Chase,” The man would say, leaning upon the cane made in commemoration of the branch of a grand tree they had once crashed into. “I don’t know how much longer I can take on these adventures. I think I may retire soon.”
The sad look in the eyes of his inteleon partner would make the old trainer chuckle and shake his head.
“Don’t fret, old friend, I am telling you this because I want you to continue on in my legacy.”
“But how? I can’t simply continue without you!” The inteleon would reply, though most unfortunate that the man could not understand a word they said - yet the old trainer would still place a hand upon their head (for still was the inteleon shorter than average), and tell them that he wished for them to continue their aimless adventures, and to simply send back photos and other trinkets so he too, can enjoy it from home.
Dressed in the hand-me-down clothing of an aeronaut and standing in the basket of the hot air balloon they had practically grown up in, Chase would wave goodbye to their old trainer as they set off on their first adventure alone.
Reaching the first destination, they would accidentally purchase a rare antique to send home. Though the letter they received back was full of encouragement and love for the antique treasure, spurring a new goal in their adventures: To find the coolest items to bring home from their travels.
Their life changed drastically not long after that.
One fated night while they flew low over a barren and torn landscape (a battleground perhaps? They did not wish to fly so low, however, the storms threatening to break loose above would prove impossible to pass through). They would glimpse the ruins of what appeared to be an old temple located amidst the destruction. The explorer’s curiosity overcame them along with the desire to discover what possible valuable items were contained within, and they made their way downward to a point of landing.
The sound of thunder as the storms above shattered into a violent downpour occured not long after they set foot within the ruins. Regardless of their decision to explore, what luck it was they had found shelter in time.
These thoughts were quickly forgotten however, in favor of the single item that glittered despite the faint light on a delicate stone pedestal up ahead. The pedestal, despite all around it, was within pristine condition - it looked highly important. Chase was overcome with joy, for they had found what was possibly something so valuable it may make them famous.
They strode forth to touch it, amazed at how small such a precious-looking item was, but upon removal of the pedestal, the glitter of the mystery artifact would become a glow, and then it would burst. The room would fill with a bright light like that of the sun that subdued into the glittering of stars. Then, a being would take shape.
The gaze of light itself, the heart of darkness itself.
Necrozma would look upon the small aeronaut and it would tell them:
“You have freed me.”
“Who have I freed, exactly?” Chase would gather the strength to say.
“The true light.” It would say. “I have enemies. The sun and the moon have stolen what was once rightfully mine. They have stolen the light. I want it back.”
“The- The sun and the moon?”
“Yes. They imprisoned me here. But you have freed me. Help me and I will reward you greatly.”
“Do I- Have a choice?”
“You are clever. We can use that.”
Spy on the sun and on the moon. Discover their secrets, get close to their messengers. Take them down from the inside, so that one day the true light can shine again.
Chase isn’t quite sure what they’ve gotten themselves into now.
(1131 words)
Pokemon being used/link: Donovan
Archive: X
Prompt: 6. What is your Pokémon backstory/history? Where did they come from? Did they originally live somewhere else?
The Tale of Donovan the Great Adventurer
In a cozy home nestled somewhere within a tiny obscure town, a young rufflet watches the human kid he is seated with flip through the channels of a small TV. Battle tournaments, world news, updates for aspiring pokemon masters - none of it interests neither boy nor pokemon.
A shrill jingle calls out the beginning of a documentary - and the rufflet at the boy’s side grabs the remote in his beak to prevent immediate change of the channel. The introduction speaks of a pokemon who traveled the land rescuing those in need, who saw the world in these adventures.
“Join us!” The televised program calls. The boy lowers the remote to the couch-side table where he and the rufflet lean closer to the screen to absorb the content of their newfound interest.
A call to head to bed from the boy’s parents goes uncared when the two are closely intrigued by such a show.
“Return next weekend for the next episode!” The show would call out before they would finally be chased to bed. And return they would, for more and more shows. Until the size of the TV would change, the couch in a friendly living room would become a lounge chair in a cramped rental room. So too would the boy who sat beside the rufflet become a young man, and the rufflet become a braviary. The two close companions would always return to watch their favorite show, dreaming of a life better than that of a small farm village. Dreaming, but never seeking, seeing, but never reaching.
Reaching finally when it was too late, when the man would one day fall to the floor and the braviary would learn the beep of a hospital room to become the norm instead of their safe home of which they could no longer return to.
The eyes of his companion for most of life turn to him as that annoying beep within the room would finally falter from its steady pace.
“Go. Be great.” The man tells him.
The braviary replies with a sorrowful trill as the noise he’s come to hate remains permanent.
The window is open, he looks to it and sees the stars beyond it.
The world above him is open, when fog weighs down upon rows of gravestones and loved ones weep silently into stars that cannot be seen, he realizes how much he wants to see them, the stars.
To the wind, to the skies, it is there that he then flies. As high as he can reach, until the clouds leave mist along the tips of feathers that gently caress their delicate forms. The mist turns to thick, battering droplets and the wind begins to howl like a houndour calling to his doom. The elements of a storm batter him high in the sky, yet he continues to fly, knowing that should he fall beneath the clouds he would risk being struck by lightning. He thinks in this moment that this may be where he will perish, when he finally would fall from exhaustion - or struck out of the sky in a spark of light before he knew what hit him.
All at once, the rain would stop, as if one had pressed the button of pause on the weather that battered his exhausted form. Thunder cracks all around him and the lightning takes the form of another figure that emerges from the clouds. An unfamiliar pokemon hovers before him, feathers stuck every which way as if permanently electrocuted, a beak like an arrow, and the eyes of the depths of a storm.
“You should not be here.” The bird made of lightning tells him.
“I am lost.” He replies.
“One cannot be lost if they do not have a destination for which to head.” Is the reply in a hollow voice with an edge sharp as lightning and a rumble like thunder.
The bird with the feathers made of lightning and the voice made of thunder then parts the storm for him and allows him to pass unharmed.
He is unsure how long he spends. Flying high into the sky so that he cannot see the ground beneath him, so that he is not tempted to stop. Only when the winds holding him aloft begin to buckle and he must gently lower himself back to land like an air balloon that has run out of fuel. He lands in a forest, for he is unsure how long he has flown. Curious pokemon peer at him from behind bushes and the tops of trees. The night calls of the nocturnal sing him a lullaby of lost dreams.
He awakens to the curious rays of sunrise and a shrill call for help that sends pidgeys fluttering into the sky in its wake. He waits, yet when the calls continue without aid, he cannot wait longer than his heart will allow. For there was still a part within him that chased this dream, and to him, this was enough.
A young sobble stands shivering under the shadow of the huge enemy that overpowers their very size. Unable to simply stand and watch, the braviary races forward and in the fierce attacks that he has known all his life, he knocks the large enemy unconscious. He turns to leave, only for a tug at the feathers of his tail to bring his gaze to return to the small figure behind him. The sobble thanks him profusely, yet proclaims that they had become separated from their trainer and asks if he would be willing to take them back to the pokecenter of the nearest city where they may wait to be reunited.
Though he would sigh, he would find himself making his way into a town not far from the forest in which he had seen his rest the previous night, with small company seated upon his back as he flew.
He would be greeted by a trainer with an aeronaut’s gloves, goggles upon the man’s head that would fall into his eyes as he rushed forward to envelop both braviary and his hitchhiking companion in a hug filled with tears and praises. The trainer would pick the sobble up in those aeronaut’s gloves and the two would twirl in joy of reunion.
Humans and pokemon alike sang his praises. The trainer with the aeronaut’s gloves would offer him a pokeball or a payment of gratitude - a home or an acknowledgement. He rejects both, and the eyes of their company would widen. Yet the trainer with an aeronaut’s gloves would simply smile and nod, as if to understand his choice. Then, the man would take the goggles from upon his head and place it upon that of the braviary.
“To aid you when you are in the clouds, friend of the sky.” He would say. Then, as if pausing in a moment’s remembrance, the trainer with the aeronaut’s gloves would reach into the bag around his shoulders and pull out an object on a necklace. When he placed it around the neck of the braviary, it would pop open to reveal a compass.
“To aid you when you are lost and cannot find your way, fellow adventurer.” The man said.
The braviary is shocked at such kindness, and it is there in that town that he remains to see the trainer with the aeronaut’s gloves (head now void of the goggles that would fall across his face for they are now seated upon the head of the braviary who watched with eyes of wonder) and the sobble so small they could be a hoppip as the two leave upon an air balloon so grand and colorful that he cannot help but cry out a call of goodbye and longing.
The goggles and the compass gifted to him by a face he will not forget prove useful to his aimless journey. He would know now where to stop, when to continue, so as not to tire.
It would seem that without failure, within every town he deigned to stop within to rest, there was yet another in need of help. At first, he would simply come upon these occurrences by chance, however, eventually they would begin to approach him purposefully. He would become known, recognized. They would inquire his name, he would reply and they would call him “Donovan”. That name, being that which belonged to the man who had once been his companion since childhood.
Donovan the Great Adventurer, they would call him, Donovan the Rescuer, Donovan the Explorer.
They would form a TV show in his honor as his fame spiraled to something globally viral. Once the one who watched the show that made him long to see how far the world would go, how high the sky could reach - now the one who inspired others in this very same way. For he was the one who accomplished great things, the adventurer others admired, the one who had seen every corner of the world. Yet, he would admit that he had not truly seen every corner and thus would always continue his journey until he could truly map that which none had ever discovered before.
He would often find himself signing the autographs of those who would tell him how much they wanted to be just like him. He would think about how lucky they were to be able to meet their hero, and how And he would smile and tell them that if they tried hard enough, they too would reach his level of greatness. Though deep within the hidden secrets concealed in his mind and behind closed doors he would frown with sorrow and apology knowing that the words he spoke were simply false assurances. For his fame had been gained simply by chance. His dream which he hadn’t even known was a dream back at his younger age was something he did not purposefully pursue, no matter how much he enjoyed such a way of living now.
Among the adoring fans there was one in particular who stood out. It was a little rufflet who reminded him quite a bit of his younger self. The rufflet often dragged a ducklett who the braviary could only assume to be a good friend to any and all events Donovan hosted, where the duo would sit front and center. When he asked a question, a little grey wing would be the very first to shoot into the air with immense enthusiasm. The rufflet answered quizlet questions that not even Donovan himself remembered the answers to, and as a result the small pair of young friends often left events carrying more merchandise than their little wings could possibly hold.
Never before had Donovan thought that someone could reach his level through sheer determination and will - through enthusiasm alone. Yet for the first time in his career of fame, the braviary saw the promise of greatness in one small rufflet with an enthusiasm larger than his own being.
One day, something most peculiar would happen. He would be doing what had now become his life’s duty pursuing the rescue of one small and in-need, when suddenly before he would properly happen upon the scene, he would find that the issue had already been solved and the one in danger was being cheerfully assured by a small rufflet. That very same rufflet. Since that very day, Donovan had begun backing off, watching from afar as the rufflet completed several tasks that would typically be within his job without ever thinking twice. The public would dislike this, enraged that this kid was solving problems in place of their beloved adventurer Donovan. So of course, it would surprise them all when one day before a crowd of thousands, Donovan would come and place a gentle wing upon the head of the small rufflet that peered up at him with eyes of wide wonder.
“What is your name?” He would ask.
“Champ! I’m Champ!” The kid would answer.
“I’ve seen what you can do, little Champ. You have great things ahead of you. How would you like to join me on my adventures? To follow in my footsteps and continue my legacy?”
The rufflet would promptly almost faint from excitement as he enthusiastically proclaimed a loud "yes!" and Donovan would wonder before he slept that night if he made the right choice taking the kid under his wing.
Yes, he would think the very next day, as he watched Champ assure others with a wisdom of words not even Donovan himself ever could, you were destined for this. Just the same as I..
Though he had made his place in the world by chance, it was not unreachable by determination alone. That much he now knew.
(2126 words)
___
Username + ID: Westsparrow 951487
Pokemon being used/link: Chase
Archive: X
Prompt: 6. What is your Pokémon backstory/history? Where did they come from? Did they originally live somewhere else?
The Aeronaut and The Light
When an aspiring aeronaut trainer picked up a sobble from a row of starter pokemon that had been presented to him, the newly adopted pokemon had no idea what was in store for them.
“Are you sure about that one?” The professor had asked.
“Absolutely sure.” The young man would answer as he stubbornly held the pokeball in his arms.
The trainer would quickly find out that his new partner was abnormally small and as a result, their attacks were not very effective. However, that would not deter him at all, and the two would become close companion’s on the aeronaut’s travels. The sobble would receive the name “Chase”.
Chase, simply put, was raised in the sky. From the very beginning, the view from the spacious basket of the giant hot air balloon was daily life for them - and they loved it dearly. Their trainer was an aeronaut, and picked no other companions to aid him besides Chase.
Once, when they had sought to approach a town to rest after a lengthy journey without break, yet before they would reach the city, a low-swooping pidgeotto would snatch the curious small sobble right from the basket. They would watch as the concerned shouts of their trainer faded into the distance as the wind would push the giant balloon in the opposite direction of the
Thanks to their size, however, they would
The sobble thanked their mysterious savior profusely and ask if they could hitch a ride to the city they had been headed for where their trainer would most certainly be waiting.
After reluctant agreement and brief travel, the braviary would take them to the pokecenter of their destination where, just as expected, the open arms of an incredibly relieved aeronaut would be waiting for them.
Chase watched their trainer grant the braviary with gifts, and their hero would deny the company of a pokeball much to the shock of others, before the mysterious pokemon would see them off as their hot air balloon set off on the road to further adventure.
The little sobble would not forget this grand hero.
It’s no surprise that when Chase finally reached their final evolution, they had become different from any other inteleon. They could glide farther than any other, they could fly like a zubat if they even tried hard enough. Having spent so much of their life in the sky looking down, they had oddly taken on the appearance of a flying type pokemon. Gliding beside the basket of the hot air balloon while their aeronaut companion would wave to them, climbing below the basket to fix any holes that formed from weather, it all became the norm.
So much so, that they did not realize how much their human companion had begun to struggle more and more with age.
Their trainer, their aeronaut companion for many, many years would approach them one day.
“I am growing old, Chase,” The man would say, leaning upon the cane made in commemoration of the branch of a grand tree they had once crashed into. “I don’t know how much longer I can take on these adventures. I think I may retire soon.”
The sad look in the eyes of his inteleon partner would make the old trainer chuckle and shake his head.
“Don’t fret, old friend, I am telling you this because I want you to continue on in my legacy.”
“But how? I can’t simply continue without you!” The inteleon would reply, though most unfortunate that the man could not understand a word they said - yet the old trainer would still place a hand upon their head (for still was the inteleon shorter than average), and tell them that he wished for them to continue their aimless adventures, and to simply send back photos and other trinkets so he too, can enjoy it from home.
Dressed in the hand-me-down clothing of an aeronaut and standing in the basket of the hot air balloon they had practically grown up in, Chase would wave goodbye to their old trainer as they set off on their first adventure alone.
Reaching the first destination, they would accidentally purchase a rare antique to send home. Though the letter they received back was full of encouragement and love for the antique treasure, spurring a new goal in their adventures: To find the coolest items to bring home from their travels.
Their life changed drastically not long after that.
One fated night while they flew low over a barren and torn landscape (a battleground perhaps? They did not wish to fly so low, however, the storms threatening to break loose above would prove impossible to pass through). They would glimpse the ruins of what appeared to be an old temple located amidst the destruction. The explorer’s curiosity overcame them along with the desire to discover what possible valuable items were contained within, and they made their way downward to a point of landing.
The sound of thunder as the storms above shattered into a violent downpour occured not long after they set foot within the ruins. Regardless of their decision to explore, what luck it was they had found shelter in time.
These thoughts were quickly forgotten however, in favor of the single item that glittered despite the faint light on a delicate stone pedestal up ahead. The pedestal, despite all around it, was within pristine condition - it looked highly important. Chase was overcome with joy, for they had found what was possibly something so valuable it may make them famous.
They strode forth to touch it, amazed at how small such a precious-looking item was, but upon removal of the pedestal, the glitter of the mystery artifact would become a glow, and then it would burst. The room would fill with a bright light like that of the sun that subdued into the glittering of stars. Then, a being would take shape.
The gaze of light itself, the heart of darkness itself.
Necrozma would look upon the small aeronaut and it would tell them:
“You have freed me.”
“Who have I freed, exactly?” Chase would gather the strength to say.
“The true light.” It would say. “I have enemies. The sun and the moon have stolen what was once rightfully mine. They have stolen the light. I want it back.”
“The- The sun and the moon?”
“Yes. They imprisoned me here. But you have freed me. Help me and I will reward you greatly.”
“Do I- Have a choice?”
“You are clever. We can use that.”
Spy on the sun and on the moon. Discover their secrets, get close to their messengers. Take them down from the inside, so that one day the true light can shine again.
Chase isn’t quite sure what they’ve gotten themselves into now.
(1131 words)
