Little Dark Age

Prologue

Everyone has a dream that fills their heart, a journey they must take, a destiny they must fulfill. As close as your imagination exists a magical place, where wondrous creatures with incredible powers help make dreams come true.

It’s the awe-inspiring, mysterious and powerful world of Pokémon, in all of their many shapes and forms. A wealth of creatures grace every nook and cranny of this beautiful planet, in numbers that may never be truly known in their entirety. Some, masters of the heavens above, some caretakers and stewards of the earth below, all watchful eyes and ears throughout recorded history, and beyond. Many living shoulder to shoulder with people, while others live solitary lives in their natural environment. And then, there are Pokémon who form vast communities, all expressing life in their own unique way. Growing larger than life, in breathtaking forms with equal majesty in miniature, the world of Pokémon truly is a world of wonder.

Certainly you’ve heard all this before. But it was not always so. History’s shrouded mysteries hold much that the youth of today’s world could scarcely imagine. Tales of heroism and villainy, records of strife and conflict, between humans, between Pokémon, and, indeed, wars between Pokémon and humans. Accounts of massive paradigm shifts within cultures, and even the whole world, litter the pages of history within the Pokémon world.

This is not such a story.

The tale you are about to bear witness to is not recorded in any history books, and those who could have passed the story down through the ages preferred that this short, violent, and dire period of history be quietly forgotten. They were right to feel this way, as its implications for the world at large are perhaps too wide in scope for comfort. In the context of recent events within the Hoenn, Galar, and Paldea regions, it becomes especially disturbing. Some things are better left unknown, undiscovered, and forgotten.

I

The year is 1696. Fog and cloud cover cast a pall over the kingdom of Rota. On a normal morning, its administrative centre, Cameran Palace, would have an unobstructed view across the placid lake upon which it sits, reflecting, in the light of the rising sun, almost all of rural Kanto north of Mount Moon and Pewter Forest, and, further to the north, the Tree of Beginning. Today, however, only a vast expanse of featureless grey greeted Queen Rin as she gazed pensively out of the balcony at the top of her palace.

Truthfully, she had much on her mind. The vassal lords of her kingdom were showing signs of unrest and unchecked ambition, but more concerning were ill tidings brought to her by her court magicians fresh from their auguries. “Something wicked this way comes”, one said before falling unconscious. His subordinates reassured her that his comatose state was merely a consequence of exhaustion from a complex ritual, but the queen couldn’t get the image of his wild, fearful eyes out of her mind.

Oh, how she wished to catch even a glimpse of the Tree of Beginning’s boughs past the lake and the hills beyond. She always felt a sense of comfort and safety when gazing at its splendour, but even that had somewhat diminished of late. It was as if the entire kingdom was being overtaken by an unexplained gloom and misery, agonizingly slowly.

She idly felt the sharp, polygonal crystals jutting from the palace walls on her balcony, hoping to feel a little closer to her most cherished knight, the Aura Guardian Sir Aaron, but in vain. Today was going to be a long day.

*****

Flames. Long buried, secreted away, but now taking root in the frigid, stagnant painted world of Ariandel. Those scant few with any sense left in their heads knew that the Lord of Hollows had brought something of great import on this trip into their world, now burning away slowly at the edges. With an army of the Undead in tow, that great Lord, conqueror of the world of Ash, escaped first into their old, wrinkled painting, and then into a new painting, with pigment of pure crystallized darkness. Where this painting led, no one knew but the painter. With the world they left behind destined to fade into inert ash, taking Ariandel with it, the only hope remaining was the world a little girl could create with her brush.

As he stepped into the painting, soldiers in tow, secretly, quietly, the Lord of Hollows hoped dearly that, as the painter girl said, this new world would be a softer, gentler, colder world than the dying, burned world they left behind.

*****

The gentle sound of a babbling brook. Plaintively crying out for a singing partner, yet the leaves in the trees respond not, for the wind is absent, and the air stands still as Sir Aaron meditates at the foot of a tree stump. Clad in blue travel regalia, hat and cloak in tow, he sits in quiet repose, focus honed to a needle point as he cultivates his auric power. Absent is his partner, who at this very moment searches for berries in the blinding fog.

Aaron reaches outwards with his awareness, projecting his auric sight across the landscape, until he makes contact with Lucario.

“Any luck?”

“I’m afraid not, Master. The trees are unusually reticent this day,” came the reply, from inside Aaron’s head, in Lucario’s gruff mental voice. Aaron’s auric senses watched Lucario as he hopped gracefully from tree to tree, limb to limb, perfectly balanced, with eyes firmly shut. The appendages on Lucario’s head hummed with power, floating and vibrating quietly. “Glad to see you applying your training in this fog, Lucario. Keep up the search for a while longer, but return if you don’t find anything.”

“Yes, Master.”

Aaron’s eyes opened and his awareness snapped back to his body and immediate surroundings. Truly, this fog was oppressive. In the wake of the omen predicted by the magicians of Queen Rin’s court, Sir Aaron had sallied forth with all due haste to monitor the situation in the kingdom for any abnormalities, but so far their search had turned up nothing. Despite this, his entire body tingled with the sharpened auric sense of incoming danger. He had taken to meditating to try and quell this feeling, but to no avail. While his mind was calm and clear, the sense of dread remained. Were its source more forthcoming, Aaron could at least relax a little and form a plan of action, but it had yet to reveal itself.

And then Aaron suddenly became aware of something new. Tuning his aura to the new stimuli, he discovered many minute vibrations coursing through the earth beneath him. A quick auric glance towards Lucario confirmed to Aaron that Lucario was also aware of the disturbance. Following the rumbling to its source, both aura warriors discovered that these vibrations had come from several hundred armour-clad feet on the bare earth.

A small army of soldiers, clad in full plate armor, black as coal and seemingly partly warped and melted as if by intense heat, marched uncertainly through the misty wilderness. Faces obscured by wicked-looking helmets, each of them bore a still-burning circular brand, that glowed like an ember. Where they had come from was anybody’s guess, but given their short distance away from Aaron and Lucario, it shouldn’t have been possible for them to have appeared so suddenly. Aaron knew he’d detected platoons of troops from distances miles further than this company of soldiers now marched. It was as if they had appeared from thin air.

At the head of the army was a taller, more heavily armoured warrior. Their brand was much larger than that of the others, covering their entire chest and giving the impression of a massive, gaping abyss. On their back was a massive sword, as long as they were tall, of black steel. Still-burning embers were flecked across its surface, glowing like stars in the fog. This man radiated strength, and all the others fell in line behind him, following his lead through the mist. His disposition could only be described as “lordly.” Aaron had no doubt that he must be the group’s leader.

Far more disturbing, however, than the sudden appearance of an army of knights, was the fact that they seemingly had no aura whatsoever, resembling animate stones more than living beings through auric vision. Even their lord seemed to have only the faintest whispers of an aura. What this signified, Sir Aaron and Lucario could scarcely imagine, but one thing was clear: this must be reported to the queen immediately. Aaron mentally signalled Lucario to return to him, and stood up from the foot of the tree he’d been sitting by, retrieving his staff, standing just as he’d left it a short while ago, wedged into the soft earth a small distance away. Gazing apprehensively at the crystalline gem at its tip, turning the staff slightly, he hoped that this strange and disquieting event was not an omen of danger to come. The metallic ornaments hanging on the staff only rattled slightly in response, clinking against each other, before becoming silent once more.

Lucario arrived moments later, bowing to his master and mentor. “We must inform the queen, quickly. Come, Lucario.” Aaron then looked up and put two gloved fingers in his mouth, whistling a sharp, sudden note. A moment later, the fluttering of wings could be heard, and the mists parted as a massive bird carefully made landfall near Sir Aaron and Lucario. Glossy, yellowish feathers, dislodged from their owner, floated confusedly in the gusts of wind kicked up by the arrival of a Pidgeot. It bowed its head to the ground, allowing Aaron to climb easily onto its back, while Lucario skilfully hopped directly from the ground onto the huge, avian creature. “To the castle, with haste, Pidgeot!” Staff in one hand, and Pidgeot’s back feathers in the other, Aaron and Lucario took to the sky on Pidgeot’s back, rising up, up, and up into the air.

The fog began to recede around them, until they had ascended above the fog entirely, revealing the melancholic landscape of a pristine kingdom lit by the grey light of an overcast day. The tips of hills could be seen poking above the fog layer, as could the palace’s spires in the far distance. It seems the fog was beginning to subside, but it was little comfort for Sir Aaron given what he now knew it might reveal. Resolutely, they flew onward towards the palace, where Queen Rin awaited their return.

II

The trip from Aaron’s resting spot to Cameran Palace as the Murkrow flies took very little time. Quickly informing the queen of the situation, Sir Aaron relayed all of what he saw in that foggy vale. Queen Rin convened an assembly of all the nobles present at the palace to put together a plan of action, and decide upon their next course. Sentries in the palace’s spires were able to determine that the party of black-clad knights was bearing down on the castle, now that the fog was finally receding. Thus, it was imperative that they come to a decision quickly.

After hearing the full story, supplemented by Queen Rin’s account of the auguries earlier in the day and the explanation of said auguries from the head magician, now returned to consciousness, even the most ignorant and selfish of the nobles present couldn’t help but give their full attention to this issue. Discussion and analysis made things crystal clear: this band of knights marching towards the palace carried a profane and unnatural power, the nature of which was unknown. This power might spell the end for life itself, if the divinations of the court magicians could be believed. Even in the case where their sorceries proved to render false conclusions, these soldiers were well-armed, albeit lacking in combat Pokémon. Were they to raise arms against the kingdom, much bloodshed would result.

In response to the dire circumstances, the lords of the kingdom levied their troops and summoned them to the palace, and began to fortify their defences in anticipation of an attack. Soldiers clad in armour lined the palace walls, armed with bows and crossbows, and standing shoulder to shoulder with all manner of Pokémon, which were themselves equipped with armoured harnesses and saddlebags. The palace’s rear gate was made ready to serve as an escape route, but otherwise sealed shut, while the front gate was fortified with several platoons of troops and their Pokémon, as well as wooden barricades. All along the bridge leading across the lake to the castle at its centre, knights and common soldiers stood stoically, flanked by Charizards, Blastoises, Ursarings, and many other powerful Pokémon, waiting for the oncoming threat to arrive.

*****

The Lord of Hollows was more than a little perplexed by this new world in which he found himself. Vibrant and full of life, this place was very unlike the burned world they’d left behind. In many ways, it did seem as if the painter’s hopes had come to fruition. Here was a world that did not burn and smoulder, where flame was merely a piece of the larger whole.

Why, then, didn’t the Lord of Hollows feel any different? The Undead Curse weighed on him heavily as ever, and his entourage was no different in this regard. Fire clung still to their bodies and equipment, cloying and stubborn. Their Curse-rotted bodies, numb to pain, carried them nonetheless forward. The Lord of Hollows supposed it was a false hope to believe that perhaps the Curse wouldn’t follow them into their new world. No matter. If he must rule a world of Hollows, then so be it. Anything was an improvement over the world they’d left behind.

Ahead of the party of Hollow soldiers lay a castle sitting on a lake, connected to the shore by a long, well-kept stone bridge. The Lord of Hollows supposed this was as good a place as any to build his new kingdom.

He turned his head to one of his retainers. “BRING IT TO ME,” he commanded. The armour-clad servant produced a blackened iron sword, with a blade twisted into a helix shape. This sword was either ruined by a capricious blacksmith, or it was ornamental, or so it would have seemed to the untrained eye. Both assessments would be incorrect, however. This coiled sword held a secret power. The Lord of Hollows gripped the hilt in his gauntlet, and stepped towards the threshold of the bridge. Through the thinning mist, he could just barely see the glint of sunlight on metal, as well as several sources of movement all along the bridge. He looked down at his feet, and plunged the coiled sword into the dirt. He then snapped his fingers, and a roaring bonfire surged to life beneath the sword.

“SEAT THYSELVES AT THE BONFIRE. THIS CASTLE SHALL BE OURS BY DAY’S END.”

*****

The battle had already begun by the time Sir Aaron arrived at the north bridge. From the air, he could clearly see the battle play out. As the first surge of black-clad men pushed into the defences laid down by Rota’s troops, they were met by a wall of flame. Rota had positioned their fire-types in the front, protected by barricades, and thus, free to incinerate the first wave of soldiers. They were more resistant to being burned than Rota expected, but nonetheless the undead army had to regroup and attempt another push before making any progress. Their armour was clearly rather effective at dispersing heat, but more than that it seemed as if these soldiers had no fear of the searing flames, or death, for that matter.

In most military engagements of this era, Pokémon served two general purposes: to instill shock & awe into the enemy, and to apply massive destructive power besides. You won’t find a soldier in the whole Pokémon world brave enough to face down an angry Charizard without another Pokémon at his side, and yet here these knights were, charging directly into the flames, carrying nothing but cudgels and swords. Rota’s vanguard was disquieted by this, but they had yet to take the full brunt of the Hollow assault.

An order from their Lord, and the Hollow vanguard changed formation. More lightly-armoured troops came to the fore, some carrying elaborate staves of gnarled wood and engraved metal, some carrying talismans of blackened cloth or elaborate metallic chimes, others seemingly holding brilliant, burning embers in their bare hands. They stood outside the range of the flames while spearmen rushed forward without regard for life and limb, and to the surprise of Rota’s knights, these lightly-armoured soldiers called forth blasts of frothing black energy seemingly from thin air. Their attacks floated almost lazily through the air in a thick barrage, not slowing in the face of concentrated blasts of flame, and exploded on impact with their targets, knocking back both man and Pokémon. Spearmen began trickling through their defences, clashing in close combat with Rota’s knights and buying time for the rest of the Hollows’ front line to move up.

At this rate, the Hollows would gradually push back Queen Rin’s knights, and eventually arrive at the front gate. Whether their suicidal tactics would reduce their numbers too much before they arrived there wasn’t in doubt, but Sir Aaron knew that finding out for certain wasn’t worth the blood sacrifice of Rota’s soldiers. It was time to tip the scales.

“Go, Pidgeot! Blow them away!”

Aaron, riding on the back of his Pidgeot, swooped towards the bridge, and as the bird came to a stop, hovering just above the front line of the battle facing the enemy, its wings began to flap with increased vigour, making a peculiar rhythm. With each wing beat, the wind seemed to twist and push and pull with increased ferocity. The very air itself began to twist into a spiral, and all the while the wing beats of Pidgeot were strengthening it, egging it on, urging it to grow and grow, before finally, with one final push, the Twister was set loose.

It flew straight and true, touching down directly onto the Hollow vanguard and following the course of the bridge to its end, tossing the black-clad knights off of the bridge and into the lake like so much dead leaves and dust. Their steel armour proved to be a detriment in the water, and the soldiers quickly sank to the bottom and drowned. The enemy was routed. A cheer rose up from Rota’s knights of “Hail, Sir Aaron!” in celebration, but, as disciplined soldiers, they quickly refocused on preparing for the second wave. Aaron knew, partly from his first encounter with the black-clad knights and partly due to his literal bird’s-eye view, that the enemy’s numbers were dwindling. This battle was soon to be over, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was perhaps a little too easily finished.

“Something’s wrong,” said Lucario, speaking in Aaron’s mind. “Look there, at our wounded.” Knowing Lucario didn’t mean “with his eyes”, Aaron concentrated and gazed with auric sight at the men and Pokémon being brought from the battlefield to the infirmary. At first glance, there didn’t seem to be anything unusual about them. Sure, their aura was flagging somewhat, but that isn’t out of the ordinary for the wounded. Aura is the raw life force inherent to every being, after all. It would make sense for aura to diminish when one’s life is threatened or damaged. Why, then, did many of the front line combatants and their wounded seem to have an aura that was slowly bleeding away? Aaron might not have noticed this phenomena if not for Lucario’s urging him to look closer, but sure enough, little by little, regardless of their overall state of health, their auras were steadily decreasing. This merited further investigation.

And investigate they did. When all was said and done, the outlook was rather grim. Physically speaking, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about the aura-bleeding soldiers. The existence of front-line soldiers who were afflicted while having avoided injury on the battlefield proved that the aura-bleeding phenomenon had no effect on their overall vigour and health, or so it seemed.

The only thing visibly different about the affected soldiers, it was discovered, was the presence of a circular brand somewhere on their bodies, the very same circular brand visible on the enemy, burning bright through the still-waning fog.

After analysis by the court occultists, it became clear that these soldiers were under the influence of a particularly virulent curse, of a kind which had no equal in this world. The effects of this curse were as-yet unknown, but it seemed that close contact with the enemy was the primary vector of its spread through the Rotan army. Responding to urges from the court of magicians, Queen Rin quietly placed the affected soldiers under quarantine in the castle dungeon. The decision was not taken lightly or without regret, but Rin’s court of mages was blessed with a high degree of prescience, and had not steered her wrong on matters before. Nonetheless, this decision would have consequences that, ultimately, sealed the fate of the kingdom of Rota.

While the mages of Cameran Palace worked on a way to cleanse this profane curse from their soldiers, Aaron and the rest of the army focused on repelling the second wave of Hollows, which had arrived at the bridge. Having repaired its fortifications, Rota’s army expected a change in strategy on the part of their enemy, but the tactics in this battle were much the same as the previous. The one major difference in their strategy came in the form of a platoon of troops around the middle of the battle. These soldiers were equipped with the burning flames like the mages of the previous battle, but also carried hefty pole-arms and halberds besides. Before charging ahead, they all held their flames high in the air, and cast a spell in unison. Each of these knights took on a slightly metallic lustre, and, brandishing their huge shields and pole-arms, slowly advanced towards the Rotan fortifications.

Rota’s soldiers quickly discovered that these enemies were far more resilient than the standard soldiers they’d been facing up to this point, brushing off attacks that would push back lesser knights. Even the fire-wall tactics that had served them well up to this point were ineffective. Most disturbing of all, wind-based attacks, which should have tossed them off of the bridge entirely, were now utterly useless, as these enemies were unusually heavy, ridiculously so. Wooden fortifications crumbled to fragments under their sabatons, crushed by their immense and incongruous weight. They were, however, still susceptible to concentrated barrages. Electric Pokémon were moved to the fore, and applied high voltage bursts until their targets fell to the ground, smoking. From there, it was an easy task to rout the enemy.

The army of Rota cheered triumphantly, but their celebrations were short lived. The fog had finally cleared completely, rendering a clear view of the enemy encampment across the bridge. It should have been mostly empty, but the camp was bustling with energy, as if they hadn’t just lost a whole army of men on the bridge. Could they really have estimated the number of remaining enemies that poorly? Aaron couldn’t accept that idea, and chose to investigate the enemy camp himself from the air, and what he found greatly disturbed him. Each knight he saw below, milling around in the encampment, he recognized from the first wave of the battle. The robes and magical foci of the first wave’s mages were unmistakable. Abhorrent of a notion though it was, Aaron couldn’t shake the conclusion that it seemed as if the fallen soldiers of the enemy army had risen from the grave, fully equipped, to fight again.

Reporting this to the queen, it became clear that Rota had inadvertently dug in for a siege, not a short skirmish. If, as Sir Aaron said, the enemy could simply regenerate their lost numbers, then they could wear down the queen’s army for as long as they wanted. This, combined with the rising number of curse-afflicted soldiers on the Rotan side of the battle, spelled doom for the kingdom. Something drastic had to be done, and quickly.

The head mage of the court, old, wizened, and still shaky on their feet after the divination that put them in a coma earlier in the day, stood up and volunteered to make one final prediction, hoping to buy a way out of these dire circumstances through his efforts. His subordinates protested, urging him to reconsider, lest the exertion of the ritual claim his life, but he stolidly persisted. It was his duty as a servant of the kingdom of Rota, he said. Queen Rin reluctantly agreed, and allowed him to make what would be the final augury of his life.

When the ritual was over, as the life faded from the old man’s body, he relayed the following instructions to Sir Aaron. “Go now to the Tree of Beginning. Seek the aid of The First. You must… make sure… the enemy at our doors follows you…”

With that, the aura of the wizard faded from this world. With his dying breath, however, the course out of this storm was made clear. Sir Aaron knew what he had to do.

III

Truthfully, it was a simpler matter than was expected to shift the attention of the Hollow army away from Rota. With the fog dispersed, all in the vicinity could clearly see the Tree of Beginning in the distance, its emerald boughs glittering in the sunlight filtering down through the clouds. The Lord of Hollows, though battered by life in the burned world from whence he came, was no fool. He knew an important place when he saw one. He knew that the gargantuan tree in the distance harboured great significance, though in what way was unclear. All it would take would be sufficient provocation, and he’d set forth with haste towards the tree.

That provocation took the form of Sir Aaron, recklessly dive-bombing the encampment from above with Lucario in tow, who flung spheres of pure, focused aura at the tent occupied by the Lord. The resulting explosions felled several of the Lord’s retainers and obliterated the command tent where he was deliberating on his next course of action. As Sir Aaron flew low above the camp, just fast enough to avoid the arrows and spells the Hollows slung his way in retaliation, he changed his heading: dead ahead, the Tree of Beginning. The Lord of Hollows split his army in half and began to give chase, leaving the other half to continue the siege against the palace. He knew it was only a matter of time before the fools in their castle would fold under the pressure of their onslaught, no matter if they employed drakes and giant birds as combat beasts. What would it matter if the time-table on their eventual victory elongated somewhat? A castle taken in two days instead of one is still a castle taken. Idly, the Lord of Hollows wondered, as he watched the man in blue ride his bird through the valley ahead, what they would find at their destination.

Meanwhile, Sir Aaron made haste to the Tree of Beginning, being careful to string along the undead army behind him. He had to be careful to balance his speed with that of the enemy pursuing him, lest they give up and return to the palace. Time was short, however, in more ways than one. The more time Aaron wasted, the more soldiers defending the castle would be afflicted with the mysterious curse, and, worse still, Aaron could feel a slight itching sensation in a tell-tale circular region under his left glove. Sure enough, the curse had found its way into Sir Aaron. It wasn’t long before the same circular brand appeared on Lucario, either. It seemed that it was transmissible not just from the army besieging the castle, but from anyone carrying the curse within them. Aaron knew they had to hurry if there was any chance of salvaging the situation.

The Tree of Beginning was close, now. Truthfully, “tree” is a bit of a misnomer. While, from a distance, it does indeed appear to be a gigantic tree, the truth of the matter becomes clear on careful inspection from a shorter distance away. In actuality, the Tree of Beginning is a massive rock formation of stone and crystal, in the shape and form of a tree. Rising on a mineral trunk, its boughs made of glittering rock and rife with crystalline protrusions, it stands as a monument to nature’s beauty, the origins of which likely extend to the first days of the world. Hence, the Tree of Beginnings.

Coming up on the foothills of the Tree, a valley opened into a small clearing before narrowing once more into a tight path into the Tree’s earthen roots. Aaron swooped across the area, looking back once again to ensure the undead army continued to give chase before heading into the tree proper. Lagging behind, the Lord of Hollows led his army through the valley, and as they marched in time behind him, their footfalls obscured the sudden rumbling beneath their feet. Before they could clear half of the valley’s length, an explosion of dust and clods of earth burst from the earth ahead of them.

A heavy thud shook the ground as the army stopped in its tracks. When the dust cleared, some kind of stone cairn in the shape of a man stood before them where before had stood nothing.

Silence reigned over the small valley of bare dirt and rock as the Lord of Hollows sized up the stone object that stood ahead of them. A golem, perhaps? The Lord of Hollows had fought golems before. He drew his huge sword. Suddenly, glowing points of light appeared on the face of the statue. They quickly flashed in alternating, complex patterns, and the statue produced a bizarre, warbling, chirping sound, before suddenly standing up to its full height. It seemed to regard the army in front of it with some sense of aloof curiosity before making a few more chirping notes. It then issued a gruff-sounding series of low, garbled sounds, perhaps attempting some incomprehensible form of speech. In another time, perhaps millennia past, these sounds may have held some meaning, but to the people of this era, as well as the Lord of Hollows and his entourage, they may as well have been the babbling of a madman.

All understood their general meaning from tone alone, however. “Leave, intruders, or face the consequences.”

The Lord of Hollows stood firm, sword in hand.

More sounds issued forth from the animate statue in front of them. The Lord issued an order for his men to charge. A blinding light appeared in that moment, before a blazing lance of pure energy issued forth from the blinking lights on the golem’s face, incinerating a whole column of soldiers in an instant. The platoon that had taken a direct hit from the beam was in disarray, but quickly recovered their composure and faced off against the golem despite taking heavy losses. Their Lord commanded them to distract the golem, and left them to do their work, taking every other division of his entourage further into the valley. As they continued, the Lord of Hollows could dimly hear the sound of several sets of metal plate armour being punctured, as if by many small projectiles. He ignored it and moved on. He knew very well that his men would simply return to the valley if they fell in battle with the golem after awakening at the bonfire, eventually wearing down the statue’s defences until it either perished or retreated.

Sir Aaron, meanwhile, pressed onward. Secure in the likelihood of his pursuit, he urged Pidgeot to fly a little faster. The Tree of Beginning was a sacred place, he knew quite well, and it wouldn’t be a smart idea to defile it with his presence for very long. The legends said that the Tree had ways of dealing with intruders who overstayed their welcome. Luckily for Sir Aaron, he had a clear destination in mind. He was here to meet a very specific Pokémon. The court mage, before he perished, had bid him meet with “The First”. This could only refer to none other than Mew, who legend told was the first Pokémon created at the beginning of the world. Strong, pure of heart, and full of life, surely Mew would hold the key to the salvation of Rota and beyond, or so the mage seemed to think. Mew was a Pokémon closely tied with the Tree itself, and their mystical powers combined might, at the very least, be able to stop the undead horde from claiming Queen Rin’s life and demesne.

Pidgeot swooped into a rough tunnel in the rock, and all light became dim. The path ahead was lit by myriad crystals poking out of the stone walls of the cavern, which all cast a turquoise glow. The air rushed past Sir Aaron, Lucario, and Pidgeot, whose circular brand was now visible under Sir Aaron’s hands, until a light became visible at the end of the tunnel. In another moment, they passed the threshold into a gargantuan cavern. They had reached the interior of the Tree of Beginning.

And what an interior it was. All was lit as if by daylight by a massive, natural crystal chandelier, a lotus-shaped rock formation of pure crystal jutting out of the ceiling far above. Its light was powerful enough to sustain plant life, which, fed by the light above and by an underground river coursing below, flourished here within the Tree. Sustained by the plant life was a whole ecosystem of unusual Pokémon, some of forms not seen since the advent of recorded time. Armaldo and Lileep grazed in the fields, while flocks of Ledian and Swablu roosted in the trees. The buzzing all along Lucario’s fur told him that even the very stone itself was coursing with massive quantities of aura. It was a natural wonderland, brimming with life, but Sir Aaron had no time for sightseeing. Upwards they swooped, through a large crevice in the cavern ceiling. Through the crevice was another tunnel, and Pidgeot swooped violently to the left to avoid the oncoming side wall of the cave, continuing down the tunnel’s length until it opened up to the Tree’s exterior.

From here, it was much easier to see the Tree’s nature as a rock formation. What appeared like leafy branches from afar now revealed themselves to be hanging plateaus of mineral-rich stone, covered by grassy hills and forest. Far below, Aaron could just about see the remnants of the undead soldiers making their last stand against Regirock, guardian of the gateway to the Tree of Beginning. Boulders had been dislodged and cliff faces gouged from all parts of the valley, which was now in disarray. If Aaron’s calculations were right, the majority of the force the enemy leader brought to the Tree should be entering the Tree soon, where they would encounter Registeel, the guardian of the Tree’s interior. They might be held up there, but Aaron believed that the enemy commander would pull the same trick of splitting his forces again, and thus eventually enter the Tree’s tunnels. None had ever entered the tunnels and returned to tell of what they found, but rumours said that a third Tree guardian dwelled on the Tree’s exterior, which, under normal circumstances, was only accessible after traversing the full extent of the tunnel system running through the Tree.

Further and further up they climbed, ascending ever further, until the upper surface of the tree was visible. Sir Aaron assumed their destination would lie there, and so he urged Pidgeot to take him and Lucario down for a landing.

As he dismounted and touched down onto the grass, he turned to Pidgeot. “Remain nearby, I shall call you when I have need of you.” The Pidgeot regarded him silently, affirming his request with its eyes. It then flapped its mighty wings, taking off to patrol the air around the Tree. Lucario stepped up beside Sir Aaron. “Are you quite sure this is the way, Master?”

“Truthfully, no. But I must believe we can find who we’re looking for up here. They’re our only hope. In any case, the floor is yours, Lucario.”

Lucario nodded, and closed his eyes. Focusing his awareness, the crests on his head floated upwards of their own power, vibrating with aura. Reaching out with his mind, he sought the strongest aura he could find. The assumption was that a being such as Mew would probably have an aura strong enough to detect from afar, and easily distinguishable from that of other life forms. Thus, the two warriors of aura began their search for Mew.

Elsewhere and elsewhen, the Lord of Hollows persisted in his quest to find the secret of the Tree and usurp its powers, whatever they may be. As Aaron had calculated, he had to split his forces once more to get past Registeel, whose physical bulk surpassed that of Regirock by virtue of its metal body. They now passed into a long series of winding tunnels, which twisted and folded in on themselves, branching and looping back, forming a veritable labyrinth. The Lord of Hollows was quite familiar with labyrinths, and laid down a trail of glittering stones to mark their path through the maze. This helped them to avoid getting lost, but as time went on, the Lord became increasingly aware that his forces were decreasing. Each minute that passed, there seemed to be fewer men following behind him.

It soon became clear that the tunnel was, itself, exercising hostility against the intruding army. The Lord was able to witness this in action when a large, gelatinous mass of glowing orange goo exited the wall in the middle of the company of warriors, swallowing two soldiers in its bulk, before dragging them flailing into the very rock itself. All along the tunnel, the crystals that shed their light to illuminate the cavern changed from turquoise to a sinister orange. The party of black-clad knights hurried through the tunnels, trying in vain to fight off the Tree’s attempts to excise the infection that now coursed through its veins in the form of the Hollow warriors. Their conventional attacks were ineffective against the growing horde of gelatinous sentries stalking the tunnel, though they were partially repelled by the spellwork of the mages in the party.

By the time the Lord of Hollows found himself outdoors, merely two tenths of his men remained. All the rest were lost to the tunnels. He slammed his gauntlet against the trunk of a nearby tree, shaking loose several leaves. That was a careless blunder. Ultimately, his men would find their ways back here from the bonfire, but it nonetheless represented a significant setback given the distance travelled. At this rate, it was possible that even he might fall in battle, and have to make the trek back. He had done such before many times in the world from whence he came, but the tedium of the process weighed heavily regardless.

A chill wind suddenly passed over the party of knights. Turning to face its source, the Lord of Hollows finally came face to face with none other than Regice, the guardian of the Tree’s exterior.

Unlike the metal golem they’d fought previously, whose garbled noisemaking was somehow less comprehensible than the stone one’s, this golem of crystalline ice enunciated very clear syllables.

“RRREEEEEEGIIIIIIIIICCCCEEEEEE”

**Levitating just above the ground towards the group at great speed, the golem issued forth a cerulean beam of energy, which, as it made contact with the ground and the Hollow warriors, created large crystalline formations of ice, freezing the Lord’s men instantly. Their comrades attempted to launch ranged attacks at the golem, but to no avail, its agility was unmatched as it slid frictionlessly across the ground, firing a barrage of icy beams as it went.

The Lord of Hollows had just about enough of this. Producing a pyromancy flame from within his armour, he applied a spell to his massive sword, and its surface erupted into crimson, chaotic flame. He then leapt into the fray, holding the sword’s hilt with both hands, and swung the full weight of the sword, aiming for the spot he predicted the golem would be next.

His prediction paid off. Preoccupied with freezing the petty soldiers in his party, it was unable to change its course quickly enough to avoid the arc of his flaming sword, which landed a direct hit into the waistline of the icy golem, causing an explosion of chaotic flame.

As water and steam sprayed from the wound in Regice’s side, it once more issued its stilted cry, wavering wildly in its pitch as it recoiled from the pain. It quickly extricated itself from the Lord of Hollow’s burning blade and retreated from the battlefield. Triumphant though the Lord was, the damage had already been done. Scarcely five men remained in his party, veterans, all, but nonetheless few in number. It would have to be enough.

Up near the apex of the Tree, Sir Aaron and Lucario’s search was not going well. Their investigations weren’t turning up anything besides a few wild Pokémon. Lucario opened his eyes and his head crests once again felt the influence of gravity. “Master, this is folly. Whoever we’re looking for isn’t here.”

“Persist just a little longer, Lucario. We must find them, our kingdom, and our very lives depend on it. Perhaps it is hiding its presence, somehow?”

While Sir Aaron speculated as to why they hadn’t encountered Mew yet, Lucario felt a small paw touch his shoulder. Whipping around with great speed, he looked behind him to see… nothing. Sir Aaron was idly peeking around the environment a small distance away, but if he had been looking at Lucario, a rather comedic sight would have greeted him. Floating just out of Lucario’s field of vision was a slight, pink creature, with a long, bulbed tail which curved around its body. This was none other than Mew, and it regarded Lucario mischievously with its large, curious eyes before suddenly disappearing from view, rendering itself invisible. It poked the ever-serious Lucario on its other shoulder, and watched as he, frustrated and confused, whipped his head around searching for the source of the unexpected touch. Mew stifled a giggle, floating invisibly in the air as if the laws of gravity simply didn’t apply to them.

Mew did a poor job of quieting their laughter, however. Lucario’s keen ears could hear the soft titter of Mew through its paws, and closely scrutinized the space from which the sound originated. He reached out cautiously with his paw, and as he made contact with Mew’s forehead, it suddenly became visible again, punctuating this with a startling meow which sent Lucario tumbling backwards.

Mew laughed unabashedly, doing small somersaults as it tumbled through the air, giggling. Lucario looked on, stunned that this little creature could hide its presence so well from him. Taking a look with auric sight, he realized that his initial assumption about what Mew’s aura would be like was only halfway correct.

The aura radiating from Mew was, indeed, exceedingly large, but it was impossible to tell from this close up. Its aura completely immersed the area, and, on further analysis, was indistinguishable from the ambient aura of the Tree of Beginning itself. They had been walking through the inner portion of Mew’s and the Tree’s auras the entire time.

They had finally found it. Calling Sir Aaron over, they immediately kneeled before Mew and relayed what they could of the situation. Initially it wasn’t clear if Mew was even listening, but when Sir Aaron removed his left glove to reveal the cursed mark upon it, Mew’s expression suddenly turned more serious. It had taken on the affect of a mother who had discovered her child was seriously injured or ill. Mew carefully examined the dark sign upon Sir Aaron’s hand, chirping querulously at him.

It then did something rather unexpected. It planted a gentle kiss upon Sir Aaron’s hand. A sound like a droplet of water landing in a placid pool rang out, and a pink light suffused the area around the cursed mark, before it faded completely away.

Lucario then showed Mew the mark on his own body, and Mew quickly applied the same process, curing both of them of the curse. Mew regarded the two knowingly, and, mewling at them, beckoned them to follow. Lucario looked at Sir Aaron. Sir Aaron looked at Lucario. They nodded to each other, and went along with Mew, just managing to keep up as it floated speedily through the air, propelled as if by the joy and strength of its spirit more than the laws of physics.

IV

At length, the Lord of Hollows and his dwindling party of retainers came to a clearing on a hill, somewhere in the upper reaches of the tree. One among them crouched down and pointed out a set of tracks leading further into a small forest nearby. These could only have belonged to the annoying man in blue and his animal companion. They must have passed through here. The Lord gave a hand signal to his men and followed Sir Aaron’s footprints further up the tree, making haste as they went. Idly, he noticed that he could see how the siege of the castle was progressing from up here. He produced a pair of worn binoculars to take a closer look.

Distantly, he could see that the siege had stagnated. Most of his men were resting and deliberating in their camp, some cutting nearby trees for use in the production of siege weapons. The castle seemed mostly silent. Assuming the Undead Curse affected them as much as it did his men, he calculated that it must be ravaging their army by now. Soon, with a gruelling and endless siege ahead of them, the enemy army would start to go Hollow, despairing over the meaninglessness of their continued struggle. Them and their battling monsters would make a fine addition to his army once they completely succumbed to the Curse.

Secure in the knowledge of his victory, he stowed the binoculars and turned his focus to the problem in front of him: the man in blue. His companion creatures seemed to be quite powerful. It would take clever tactics and careful positioning to take him down, certainly, but this didn’t concern him quite so much. He was used to exactly this sort of combat. The Lord of Hollows clenched his fists. It had been a while since he had encountered a truly challenging opponent. It would be a pleasure when he finally crushed this one under his boot, no matter how many attempts it took.

*****

Sir Aaron and Lucario followed Mew closely, and were led to the trunk of a large tree standing inside the wall of a cliff. Mew grabbed on to both of their hands and urged them towards a conspicuously large knot in the wood at Aaron’s waist level, where once must have been attached a very large branch. Astonishingly, both of their hands passed through it as if nothing were there. Mew re-positioned behind them and gave them a gentle push, and they tumbled into a natural tube of some sort, massive and cavernous. They panicked somewhat as they fell, but Mew reassured them by landing on one of many glowing orbs of green light floating up and down through the tube, and being carried along leisurely. They, too, found orbs to clutch on to, and they were whisked along down towards the centre of the tree.

Through the Tree’s arteries they went, until at length they reached an opening in the wall of the tube. A little clumsily, they dismounted the orbs which carried them and crossed the threshold.

They had arrived in a tall chamber, the walls of which were composed almost completely of crystal. The room pulsated rhythmically, waves of red disturbing the tranquil blue stone. Lucario watched his reflection splinter and multiply across the room as it refracted through the crystalline walls. Ahead of them, past Mew, in the centre of the room, was a huge mass of crystals, jutting out of the floor. They had arrived at the true centre of the Tree of Beginning. In every direction, an incalculable mass of living stone and earth surrounded them, giving the impression of a room under pressure.

Mew turned to Sir Aaron, and began to rattle off a series of mewling sounds rather authoritatively, contrasting with its child-like form and earlier disposition. It then looked determinedly at Aaron, before turning around to face the crystal heart of the Tree of Beginning.

And then, it began to sing. Its voice rang out like a bell, and the Tree responded by resonating, multiplying the notes Mew produced through the resonance of myriad crystals throughout the room. Soon, the bell-like sound of Mew’s voice, singing a song older than time, was joined by the echoes of the Tree to form a veritable orchestra of sound. It was unlike anything that had ever been seen by mankind, or will again.

The same pink light that cured Sir Aaron and Lucario’s curse began to fill the room, slowly expanding outwards, with no signs of stopping. Just then, through the wall they had entered from burst The Lord of Hollows, finally catching up to Sir Aaron and Lucario, and flanked by two retainers wielding swords and shields. Three of his men had been lost in transit through the tubes, one during the initial foray plummeted to his doom without grabbing onto an orb, a second had fallen off of their orb due to poor grip, and a third exited into the wrong opening, becoming lost in some side tunnel and eventually being claimed by the gelatinous sentries that now stalked these paths.

Glancing for just a moment away from the crystal heart, Mew saw the Lord of Hollows enter the room, and, thinking quickly, manifested a pink barrier around itself and the heart. It was rather thin, but it would have to do. All of its focus had to be dedicated to the task of focusing its power through the Tree of Beginning. It trusted that Sir Aaron and Lucario would defend it, and set back to work, singing with increased vigour.

The two groups sized each other up, and at length, Sir Aaron spoke first. “So, you must be the leader of the band of ruffians causing so much trouble. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to offer a reason for your surprise invasion?”

The Lord of Hollows responded, his voice like a furnace. “YOU COULD NEVER UNDERSTAND. OUR WORLD IS DEAD. BURNED TO NAUGHT BUT ASH. WHAT WE HAVE LOST CAN NEVER BE REPLACED. BUT…” The Lord reached up and gripped the hilt of his sword, hanging on his back, with his right hand. “THIS IS NOT OUR WORLD. I HAVE SEEN THE VIGOUR THAT FLOWS THROUGH THIS LAND. I WOULD HAVE IT FOR MINE OWN. HERE, WE COULD START OVER. HAVE YOU UNDERSTANDING NOW? THOU ART AN OBSTACLE. CEASE YOUR FOOLISH RESISTANCE. THOUGH YOU MAY HALT MY PROGRESS TEMPORARILY, I WILL ALWAYS ADVANCE A LITTLE MORE WITH EACH FAILURE.”

At this, Sir Aaron saw fit to interrupt the armour-clad knight’s speech. “So, is that it, then? Burned down your old world, so you’ve come to burn ours? Your determination is admirable, true, but look at you. You and your men are rotted and hollow. You would have the whole world be the same. I reject your vision!” Sir Aaron pointed his crystal-tipped staff at his interlocutor. “Despite your persistence, your vision will never come to fruition.”

“OH? AND THE ONE TO STOP ME SHALL BE YOU? YOU ARE UNARMED AND UNARMOURED. I COULD SEPARATE YOUR TORSO FROM YOUR LEGS IN AN INSTANT IF I CHOSE.”

“I do stand against you, but that is not why you are destined for failure.” Sir Aaron smiled. “So, you’ve persisted beyond the end of your world. Again, admirable. But, somewhere along the way you forgot the most important thing of all.” Sir Aaron looked at Lucario. Lucario looked at Sir Aaron. “Stronger than determination, stronger than persistence, stronger than raw, physical power… stronger than all those things, is the bonds we share with each other. Bonds of friendship, bonds of camaraderie, bonds of love and family. These transcend any ambition, and you, sir, are found lacking.”

The Lord of Hollows was silent for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice echoing off the interior of his helmet. “ARE YOU QUITE DONE? YOUR CHILDISH PLATITUDES ARE MEANINGLESS. THE CURSE WE CARRY WILL REDUCE YOU AND ALL YOU CHERISH TO PAWNS ON MY BOARD, AND WHEN THIS WORLD HAS BEEN EXPENDED, WHEN I HAVE CLAIMED EVERY CORNER OF ITS EXPANSE, WHEN NOTHING LEFT REMAINS, WE WILL ESCAPE AGAIN TO A NEW WORLD, AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN. NOW, COME. PUT UP YOUR PETTY RESISTANCE. SHOW ME THE STRENGTH OF YOUR SO-CALLED ‘BONDS OF CAMARADERIE’ IN YOUR FINAL MOMENTS.” He then drew his sword, which glittered in the pulsating light of the room.

Sir Aaron’s chat with the Lord of Hollows paid off well. He had banked on being able to buy some extra time by engaging the enemy commander in conversation, allowing the expanding area suffused by Mew’s healing light to make contact with the enemy. His hope was that the curative properties of Mew’s power would weaken his opponents, and he was rewarded when the light pushed past the Lord to touch his retainers. Both knights dropped to the floor, crumpling like a sack of potatoes, writhing for a moment before going still for the last time. While the Lord himself was unaffected, the Hollowing that afflicted his men had completely vanished, and death had flown in on swift wings to take them to the afterlife they had so postponed in undeath. Now, they could focus on a single opponent. As long as they could defend Mew from attack, the curative field of light could expand ever further, eventually cleansing the whole Tree of Beginning of the curse, and, with luck, the rest of Rota.

“Lucario! It’s time to show me the results of your training thus far.” Lucario nodded in response. Years of meditation, testing, auric cultivation, and mentorship in the woods surrounding Rota came flooding to Lucario’s mind, summer days and winter nights spent cultivating his strength and knowledge, but most of all, his bond with Sir Aaron, and loyalty to the kingdom. Lucario opened his eyes, and assumed a fighting stance, standing between Aaron and the Lord of Hollows.

“HA. THE FOOL SENDS HIS PET MONSTER TO FIGHT ME, UNABLE TO MUSTER THE STRENGTH HIMSELF. NO MATTER. I WILL BREAK YOUR SPIRIT.”

Leaving no further time for chatter, The Lord of Hollows dove through the air, swinging his sword downwards over his head in a large arc. Lucario, unburdened by heavy plate armour, effortlessly dodged the blow, sending a spinning kick into the Lord’s waistline. It bounced harmlessly off of his armour, but nonetheless allowed Lucario to spring away as the knight pulled his sword from the stone of the floor.

Lucario changed tactics, seeing that his normal strikes would do no good. Focusing his attention, he charged his aura into the space between his paws, just as Sir Aaron had taught him to. Carefully containing it, focusing it further, letting it grow, a sphere of pure aura formed. Snapping his eyes open, he set it loose. It flew quickly, straight and true, towards the Lord of Hollows, but his reflexes were quick, and the knight rolled out of the way, expertly righting himself afterwards. The aura sphere careened away, but Lucario showed no signs of frustration to the Lord of Hollows, as he was too busy controlling the sphere’s path through the air. The concentrated orb of pure force looped around on its course around the room, before swooping back at the Lord of Hollows from an unexpected angle, exploding on impact.

The Lord of Hollows was knocked back, but was able to stay on his feet. He rested his bulk on the weight of his sword for a moment before righting himself. Reaching into his armour, he produced a glowing orange flask of some sort, and poured the fluid inside directly into the protective grating on his helmet. The orange light inside the flask seemed to suffuse him for a moment, before he stowed the flask and re-took an offensive stance, seemingly with renewed vigour.

He then swung his sword to the side, letting its weight carry him into a spinning attack. Lucario dodged skilfully, but knew that he’d have to get creative to defeat this opponent. He could try the same trick with the aura sphere again, and keep it up long enough to wear down his opponent, but there was always the chance that the Lord would predict his movements and position himself to counterattack in the middle of the charge-up for the sphere.

Lucario dug deep into his memories of his training, and retrieved exactly the memory he needed. He recalled an evening where Sir Aaron was educating him on the proper use of aura on armoured targets. He had hung several planks of wood with metal plates nailed onto them from a tree branch, and demonstrated that it was nigh impossible to damage the wood from the other side of the plate with one’s bare hands. However, he stressed the importance of the fact that aura need not make contact with the metal, nor even obey the fact of the metal’s presence in front of the target. He then struck the plate with his palm, and the plank behind it exploded into splinters. Removing his palm, the metal plate wasn’t even scratched.

Lucario’s eyes opened. The Lord of Hollows stood in front of him, beckoning. “LOST YOUR NERVE, MUTT? OR ARE YOU OUT OF TRICKS AND SORCERIES?”

The Lord of Hollow’s arrogance was short-lived, being replaced by confusion as the creature in front of him seemed to multiply, as after-images spread across the room. The Lord hated enemies like these, so utterly tedious. One of these had to be the real one, he’d just have to smash them all.

And smash he did, swinging his sword wildly through the illusory copies left by the after-images of Lucario’s extremely speedy movements across the cave floor, but to no avail. He watched as each began to charge another sphere of aura, in unison, before letting it loose. He was unable to discern which attack to dodge, and took another direct hit from an aura sphere.

This was Lucario’s opportunity. He moved swiftly towards the Lord of Hollows as he reeled from the impact of the sphere’s explosive power, closer, closer, right next to his opponent, and placed his paw onto the surface of his chestplate, in the dead middle of the wicked cursed mark which festered on his body. Focusing all of his aura into a point somewhere beyond the blackened steel plate, he let loose a torrent of energy, which exploded outwards through and behind the Lord of Hollows. A direct hit, the full force of which detonated inside his ribcage.

At this point, as his life (and blood) drained from his body, the Lord of Hollows felt that he had perhaps made a miscalculation regarding his ability to keep up with the speed of his enemy. Reaching feebly for his Estus Flask, he was interrupted by none other than Sir Aaron, whose staff expertly knocked it out of his hand. As it clattered across the floor, spilling the Estus inside across the rough-hewn stone, he cursed his inattention. He supposed, dimly, that he would have to do better avoiding that palm attack on the next attempt.

As the Lord of Hollows began to die there, in the heart of the Tree of Beginning, the curative light which Mew continued to produce had expanded greatly, and was now beginning to reach the palace through the crystal roots that grew all over the kingdom. As the final Rotan knights and Hollow soldiers were freed of the Undead Curse, the whole palace seemed to sigh in relief. The Undead army began to crumble and wither away, until only their blackened steel equipment remained, until it too began to rust and return to the earth.

At the same moment the final Undead soldier met its final end, the Lord of Hollows watched as the Darksign, which had followed him from the very day he awakened as Unkindled ash and grown as he followed the counsel of Yuria, shrank and faded until it ceased to exist entirely. The song of Mew and the Tree of Beginning seemed to suffuse his very being, and he faded from this world, as he had entered it, perplexed and bewildered.

And thus, all was as it was.

Epilogue

And the rest, as they say, is history. Or, in this case, it wasn’t. With no material remnants of the Undead incursion besides the property damage they left in their wake, none who weren’t present at the battles themselves believed the accounts of what had come to pass. Soldiers quarantined in the dungeon at the start of the conflict were no exception to this, and, incensed at their treatment, many complained to their lords. This exacerbated existing political tensions, further fragmenting and factionalizing the already decaying aristocracy of Rota.

While the threat of incursion from another world had faded, the kingdom of Rota already had a destiny set in stone. The divisions aggravated here later went on to aid the splitting of Rota from a united monarchy into several smaller serfdoms, which warred with each other constantly. In the chaos, the one-day war with an Undead horde fell into the annals of unrecorded history forever. Today, only the civil wars that followed are known to historians, as the consummation of events leading from them went on to form the foundation of a united Rota thereafter, thanks in part to a noble sacrifice on the part of Sir Aaron, as well as sow the seeds for events concerning one Ash Ketchum centuries later.

How one little girl in a painted world could open a gateway between her studio and the world of Pokémon may never be known.