Chapter 1 – Where It All Began

In Ancient times, far, far east, the Sun rose over cobalt seas. The land was rich but the waters were vaster, great mystery held within their waves. West the Ancients came but east they remained, in awe of the brilliant expanse.

In love, they sought conquest. Beneath Sun’s light, the Ancients built vessels made to tame and traverse the tides. But as the day stretched longer, darkness came, and the Ancients realised they needed the Sun to accompany them over the bounding main.

Yet, when it came time for them to leave, the Sun flew west, away from shining seas.

—Metemall Archive #91: The Tale of the Ancients and the Sea

–

Bellatrix was a miserable woman. Wretched in conversation, her presence pitiable, it was impossible to imagine anyone more dreadful.

The hag carried that mantle each passing day and today had been of little exception. Wrapping herself in the worn folds of a thinning shawl, Bellatrix groaned, ready to slave herself for yet another of her evening walks. Long, grey hair tied limp in a messy bun, she slipped on a pair of tattered flats that had walked twice as many steps then they could handle.

She fumbled with the doorknob and forced her weight against the dishevelled apartment door. Though the hinges grew more stubborn by the day, today they once again relented. The door swung open with a long, drawn-out wail, exposing Bellatrix to the unfeeling bite of winter air. The crone shivered as she shuffled down the stairwell, her cane banging against concrete, demanding everyone, be it person, pokémon or building, to acknowledge her presence.

It had become apparent over the last few months that Bellatrix’s evening strolls were growing harder and harder on her ageing legs. The evening’s dim light would only illuminate the path to her destination, fading long before she would return to her dingy apartment. So much for trying to distract herself from the reality that was her age. Nevertheless, she continued to follow the directions in her head, wilfully oblivious to the sights, smells and sounds of the livening city.

She walked past buildings that grew uglier as she grew closer to the city’s outskirts, their squat forms imposing against the darkening skies, and onto rocky sand. The insignificant scrap of beach, wedged between rows upon rows of jagged rock, was the source of many memories, called forth by the clear crunch of sand beneath Bellatrix’s feet. The sea, only a few degrees above freezing during the cold months, glimmered in the setting sun and offered a rare feeling that could comfort even Bellatrix.

Her gaze tore from the sea and onto the rocks. Now came the hard part.

Hobbling towards a collection of stones that had been carved out through the handiwork of hikers, the sea and time, Bellatrix began the next leg of her journey, ascending the natural stairs by using her cane as an anchor against the rock’s incline. With great effort and panted breath, she pulled herself upwards onto the first step. Then she did it again. And again. And again.

And each time, frustrations that Bellatrix had just buried yesterday were dredged up to the forefront of her mind.

At this point, most would look at Bellatrix and be left with a question: Why? Why put herself through all the trouble of making this journey? She had less than a year in her, so why not spend the rest of her evenings within the joyless confines of her apartment?

The answer? Spite.

Bellatrix was as stubborn as she was miserable and she had something to prove. She refused to be seen as “weak” or “feeble”; she wasn’t going to be a joke because of her age. Had she been in her prime, nobody would dare to mock or stand in her way, nobody. Not her critics, not her lovesick delusions, not the brat who’d robbed her of so many years of her life and certainly not these forsaken rocks!

She growled, forcing herself to focus on the path ahead. She shouldn’t be wasting energy on things she refused to care about. The rough terrain and buffeting winds warded off most civilians, which made Bellatrix’s destination the ideal refuge. She’d get from them, and they could waste their time saying whatever they wished about her. It was the perfect trade off.

As she walked, Bellatrix noticed that the rocks were slippery, their surfaces glinting in the sunset. She spared a glance at the waves below, rolling in with the tide to wrestle the shore, the soothing sounds of their conflict cutting through her seething. They had been far more restless earlier with the rain, spitting out bits of seaweed that now decorated Bellatrix’s path forward.

She could see it in the distance, jutting out over deep waters that beckoned and sang; the great pillar of stone that Bellatrix called “the Plank”. By its pinnacle was a small formation that made the perfect seat for her shrinking body – as if the spirits themselves knew that she’d be travelling here everyday for this very vista – it was the best view of the great expanse anyone could ask for. Bellatrix sat down as she admired the horizon, pulling her legs over the side and allowing them to dangle while she mused.

The fading light of the sun did nothing for warmth; any heat it may have provided was robbed by the persistent sea breeze. Not too long ago, the skies would have still been blue by the time Bellatrix arrived there. It was pitiful, and Bellatrix could not see it as anything other than life playing its final trick on her.

To say that she did not appreciate it would have been an understatement.

But what else could she expect? Every time she tried to play life’s game, she came out looking like a fool. Her connections, possessions, reputation? All done away by their deaths or abandonment as some kind of twisted reward for her troubles. Ungrateful bastards. At least the snivelling brat that caused all this saw some form of karmic justice. Ended up somewhere dead in the wilderness. With no body found, the pieces most likely found themselves filling the belly of an absol.

A cruel grin pulled at Bellatrix’s features, stretching her wrinkles. She couldn’t think of a more fitting end for someone who defied and ignored all of her warnings and teachings. But any semblance of a smile swiftly vanished, like a ray of sun trying to peek through a thick layer of storm clouds. It was a freebie, a show of pity that her opponent gave her when it saw her flounder at its game. Nothing more, nothing less. With a deep exhale, Bellatrix straightened herself and allowed the sight and sounds of the waves to carry that train of thought away.

She remained still until the sun had vanished beyond the horizon.

The chill of dusk called Bellatrix back on her feet. It was an arduous process, groping for her cane in the dark and trying to straighten herself back onto the Plank without falling off. She took one last look at the sea before turning to face the city she begrudgingly called home. Irradiated, it polluted the skies with its light, beckoning for Bellatrix’s return. And like a mothim to a flame, as her only light source, she answered its call.

If only it was that simple.

The first few steps had gone smoothly enough. By dragging her cane across the ground like a blind woman, Bellatrix had gotten a good enough feel of the terrain, preventing her from tripping over its bumpy surface. But the rocks were slippery and Bellatrix’s cane could not feel seaweed. So when both her cane and foot caught themselves on a large patch, strewn across the rocky bluff like a blanket, she was sent careening over the edge, straight into the water below.

Gravity made short work of any desperate attempt to right herself, the icy grip of the sea striking her nervous system with the intensity of a thousand hammers. Her throat tightened, stinging as her lungs filled with saltwater, punishing her body’s demand for air. She was at the mercy of the tides; nothing but a mere ragdoll to be flung with reckless abandon. She tried to fight the surging currents, tried to break the water’s surface but her strength had decayed too much, her clothes weighing her down as they absorbed water.

The sea she had admired for so long was to become her grave.

Seconds stretched on, becoming an eternity. Consciousness began to slip as Bellatrix’s body resigned itself to its fate. All she could do was lament for the youth she lost so long ago. The life she had wasted.

If she had been in her prime again, she would’ve been able to swim to the shore. Would have had a chance to live the life she deserved, avoiding the mistakes that brought her here in the first place. She wouldn’t have needed to come all the way out here in a futile attempt to meditate – giving up the practice to live the remainder of her days in that cramped room didn’t seem too bad any more – not that it mattered now.

Her vision grew darker and darker. She didn’t feel, couldn’t feel, cold any more and her fading mind was moments away from letting go. So close. So very close, but then—

“This is foolish. Of all the ones to choose, why that one?”

“Do not play coy, you know all the reasons why. Any chance of the scales of fate being tipped in our favour lies with her.”

“That is exactly why I must contest this!”

“And doom the world to ash and silence?”

…

Bellatrix blacked out, the depths’ claim upon her sealed.

The street markets of Fae’s Square bustled with activity under the bright light of a summer morning. Shelves and counters stacked and laden with supplies were inspected by passing townsfolk and local guild members. Shopkeepers entered bartering matches with anyone foolish enough to think that they could beat them at their own game (a particularly determined rockruff was causing quite the scene with a rhyhorn). Rumours that had flown from Noame Island on a pelipper’s wings danced on the lips of window shoppers. It was yet another day in Metemall Town.

At least, it should have been.

An aggron walked through the crowds of pokémon, using his size to push through the congregation, disappointed that the chesto supply had already sold out for today. In fact, most of Kecleon’s stock had been selling out at increased rates; he’d need to start getting up at dawn if he wanted any chance of getting his claws on any essentials. But for now, he would just need to search another part of town.

Yet, the moment Aggron turned towards Steelix Alley, the air grew still and heavy, smothering the lively atmosphere. Pokémon looked around, confused at the sudden change in mood, before a bright light and the loud sound of a snap echoed throughout the entire square.

Confused and startled, the market-goers attempted to approach the light that hung still in the air. But before anyone could get a good look, it dissipated, leaving a small, white, red and soaking wet form collapsed on the pavement. In an instant, the crowd erupted in discordant symphony, swarming to get a closer look at the figure to try and make heads or tails of what just happened.

The sudden arrival shivered. Everything hurt. From the intense ache that bore straight down to the bone, afflicting her entire body, to the pounding migraine that made it painful to think. Her mouth and nostrils were clogged with the overpowering scent and taste of brine. A hacking fit followed, water ejected from her lungs, leaving her panting with the realisation that she was back on dry land. The darkness that swam in her vision parted, assaulting her eyes with a world that was far too bright. When she attempted to stand, she was seized by fatigue, unconsciousness once again threatening the corners of her vision.

Between shallow breaths, Bellatrix heard the muffled voices of the crowd.

“All this fuss for another…accident? I swear…”

“…fifth this…”

“Don’t…close. I think that’s a cursed…”

“In…town!?”

“Should warn…Quickly…you!”

…

………

The voices went silent the moment Bellatrix had another coughing fit. The ensuing nausea would’ve caused her to throw up had her belly not been empty. Many drawn out seconds passed before a new voice broke out above the silence.

“Imbeciles! Can’t ya see it’s drowning? If Ms. Indeedee saw how you sorry lot are behavin’, you’d never hear the end of it!”

The verges of consciousness made the voice distant. Just as she let herself go limp from exhaustion, Bellatrix felt something far larger than her pick her up. It muttered something to her, but the words blended together in an incoherent mush. She tried to struggle out of the grasp of whatever had grabbed her, but the feeble attempt was over before it began, her body slumping back into the stony arms of her captor. She knew that she was being taken somewhere but her mind couldn’t process anything at all. It all blended together into a mess of blurred figures and broken sentences. All Bellatrix could do was remain limp, eyes half-lidded.

A few turns away from the chaos, an indeedee was having a peaceful day at work. Supplies fully restocked courtesy of Kecleon and a lack of customers put the aromatherapist’s mind at ease. Counting the fresh batch of chesto berries, Indeedee let out a content sigh. She could do with having slow days more often.

Unfortunately, things were just about to pick up again when the all too familiar sound of the clinic door being broken down snapped Indeedee to attention.

“What is it now, Aggron?” she asked, rubbing her temples. She needed to reset her tally on the number of days that door remained intact. However, her exasperation was swiftly replaced with worry when she saw the bundle of fur dangling from Aggron’s arms.

Aggron’s reply was a nervous shuffle of his feet. “Uh, teleporting accident. Happened right in the middle of the market, got a lotta folks in a tizzy, and they ain’t… See fer yerself.”

With little prompting, Aggron held the small pokémon out over the desk. Indeedee rushed to take it before the brute just dropped it and got water all over her tallies. Nose wrinkling at the scent of wet canine and saltwater, Indeedee frowned the moment she managed to get a good look at the thing. A zorua, and a cursed one at that. Must have been from a colder region based on the thickness of that fur, leaving Indeedee to wonder how it ended up all the way over here.

“You’re certain it was a teleporting mishap?” Indeedee pressed.

“I was there to see it! An’ look at ‘em! How do ya get that wet on a day like this?”

With a nod, Indeedee continued, “Well, at a glance, I don’t see any missing limbs. Very fortunate, those are quite common—” She stopped when she felt the zorua shudder with several coughs in her arms, water dribbling from its mouth. Half-drowned too. Not surprising, given that it was drenched to the bone. “Hold her again for a moment…” Indeedee then looked down the hall and yelled, “Naclstack! Get yourself over here! We have some breathing troubles to handle!”

Turning back towards Aggron, Indeedee tapped the side of her horn a couple times. “Aside from that, their condition doesn’t appear to be too terrible, though they may need to stay a couple days so we can get a proper evaluation.”

Aggron nodded. “It ain’t mine but I couldn’t just leave it there, ya know?”

“Hm, serving every lost stray that wanders into our store again, Ms.?” Rounding the corner, the summoned naclstack acknowledged Aggron and the zorua with a deep frown. “I know you tend to ignore many warnings, but is welcoming a curse into the apothecary particularly wise?”

Indeedee snorted. “A ‘mon in need is a ‘mon in need, and no amount of superstition can change that. Now go prepare a room for them,” she said, taking the zorua back from Aggron and shoving it straight into her assistant’s arms. “We’ll send an update on their condition over post,” she added, addressing Aggron. “We’ll speak with them once they’re lucid and their condition stabilises, isn’t that right, Naclstack? Now hold still.”

Naclstack grumbled in response whilst Indeedee began scraping his body for salt. Then, once a sufficient amount was laid out on the table, the rock-type sauntered off with a heavy lumber.

“Anyway,” Indeedee continued. She flicked open several drawers to grab several varieties of medicinal seeds and herbs alongside a large mortar and pestle. She threw the herbs and salt in and began to grind them into a fine power. “We’ll try to find the one responsible to wrangle out any pay from them, but don’t be surprised if it falls onto you.”

Aggron let out a displeased huff. “Aye, makes sense, but my armour ain’t exactly made of poké either.”

“Mhm, I’m sure you can manage. Besides, I’ll be expecting compensation for the door again.”

Aggron had no counter to that.

Bellatrix stirred. The sensation of having her stomach poked in several places by something rough left her in a state of discomfort, pulling her away from sleep’s numbing embrace and into groggy lucidity. She felt stiff, limbs still aching from earlier. Part of her wanted to fall back to sleep but too many questions nagged at her from the back of her mind and she needed answers.

Her first order of business was to try and remember what had happened up until now.

However, there was little she could recall in the chaotic blur that was her recollection of today. There was coughing, the sensation of salt water and phlegm climbing up her windpipe; some ‘healers’ who’d forced her to drink some kind of foul concoction – the bitter taste still lingered at the edges of her mouth – and then nothing. Bellatrix shook her head, her eyes opening despite their protests, and tried to sit up in an attempt to get a better look at her surroundings.

The act made Bellatrix wince as her joints refused to comply. The best she could do was prop herself up with her arms while her lower body remained on the ground.

The room she found herself in was unfamiliar. Tiny and sparsely decorated with crude furniture seeped in deep shadow. A window to her right revealed a sky covered in stars and a moon half-waned, its weak light filtering through. However, it seemed that Bellatrix was able to make out the shapes much easier than usual. Maybe her eyes had adjusted. Once she found some proper light, things would return to normal. Shuffling a bit, she realised that the thing she felt beneath her was straw that was being used as a makeshift bed. It not only explained the poking but also told her that the people here were far more primitive than what she was used to. She must’ve washed up quite far.

Her mind snapped back on the moon. That wasn’t right. She was pretty sure it was meant to be full tonight. Had she really been out for that long? She’d long since dried off by now but the scent of brine still clung to her, now matted, hair. How could she have ended up so far when she was being dragged away by death’s jaws? Maybe someone saw her and went out to rescue her but she was certain there was no witness and why wouldn’t they have taken her back to… back to…

That was odd. She couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t she remember?

Mind frantic, Bellatrix tried to reason with herself. Maybe she was just tired. It’d all come back to her in the morning once her head had cleared. It had to. Bellatrix always prided herself on her memory, sharp as ever, even at the brink of ninety. Let’s see, there was her name. Obvious start, but something nonetheless. The depths, and then…

That conversation.

She frowned. She’d only heard a small part of it, clear as crystal, and what she heard made no sense. A dying dream was her only explanation (after all, how else would she be eavesdropping on a conversation while in the midst of drowning?). So then why couldn’t she recognise those voices? She knew how dreams worked, how the mind could not come up with new voices or faces so it had to recycle from memory. If she could just put a face to those voices…

Static. No names, no faces, nothing.

Bellatrix panicked. Something was clearly wrong. Questions flew at her from all directions. Where did she live? What did she do for a living? Why was she out at sea? Her family? Who were they?

None of her questions produced any answer. Like marks in the sand, it had all been swept away by the tides.

Defeated, Bellatrix attempted to lower her head into her hands with the vain and distant hope that it would help her remember anything. A second wave of panic washed over her when she couldn’t perform the action, a wave that surged into a tsunami the moment she figured out the reason why.

In the place of her hands were a pair of small, dusky paws.

Had she gone senile?

Shock immobilised her. Much as she didn’t want to, Bellatrix mustered the courage to examine herself further to see the full extent of the changes. Utter disbelief convinced her that she’d remained mostly the same but the strangled breath and growing pit in her stomach that followed revealed the contrary.

She’d been locked into a quadrupedal stance, covered in pale grey fur. A thick ruff of fur covered her neck and a long mane, tangled and wild, fell to her side. Her ears, which had extended outwards, fell flat against the sides of her head as she noticed that she had a tail bearing the same colour and composition as her ruff and mane; dense white fur that transitioned into red at the tip. She yanked it, an action she regretted as sharp pain shot through it, confirming that it was firmly attached. Finally, to add insult to injury, Bellatrix noticed that her head wasn’t that far from the floor. She had shrunken down significantly.

Throughout it all, Bellatrix’s mind was dominated by a single thought: This is wrong. This is very, very wrong. Much as her new appearance and the stiff aches in her new joints would otherwise insist, she was human. The very concept that she wasn’t anymore was something she refused to consider.

Denial and exhaustion sapped her energy. Unable to hold herself up any longer, Bellatrix slumped back down onto the straw bedding. What would happen to her now? She wondered, scanning the room once more. That was when she noticed a small hand-mirror sitting upon a crude stool. A final flicker of ignorant hope arose in her once more. She would see herself, her actual self, and whatever spell was cast on her would break. Things would return to normal. They had to.

With a newfound determination, Bellatrix forced herself up on her new legs. She’d play along with the illusion for now. Just a few steps.

Over and over again, she would find a new difficulty with walking on all-fours. A growl of frustration escaped her throat. Bellatrix flinched at how close she sounded to an actual pokémon. She needed that mirror, but she wasn’t going to crawl for it. Hadn’t she been humiliated enough?

Eventually, she managed to make several small, clumsy steps. She refused to look down or acknowledge her paws, as if looking down on them would make her current situation more likely to become a reality. When she had gotten close enough she lunged for the mirror, snatching it like a greedy child. She stumbled for a moment without the support of her forepaws but kept her balance. She wasted no time. Under the gaze of moonlight, Bellatrix looked into the mirror.

She wished she hadn’t.

Instead of herself, a pokémon stared back at her. A zorua. Its pale, ghostly features were somewhat familiar. Yet, instead of the haunting gold eyes characteristic of the species, Bellatrix had retained her stormy blue-grey eyes. The only clue that she’d been anything else before, the memento of her humanity. A complete and utter mockery.

Bellatrix trembled. She was gone. Her form, her memory, all of it. The only thing that remained was this empty ghost with her eyes.

She no longer had the strength to hold the mirror. It cracked the moment it landed on the floor, producing a hollow sound. Bellatrix followed, collapsing on the floor, covering her old eyes with her new paws.

Her silent cries filled the remainder of the night.