Prologue: Moonlight

Moonlight from above peeked through the clouds and illuminated the stone facilities of R.E.D. Academy, Adstrum’s prestigious Rescue, Exploration, and Defense school. A lone Flygon remained in his office to deal with overwhelming stacks of last minute paperwork. With the upcoming semester starting in less than a month, Headmaster Zephyr was up to his snout in application forms from across the Kingdom of Adstrum.

Pokémon from coast-to-coast who desired proper team training tried their best to meet Zephyr’s incredibly high standards. At least, it was generally assumed that a famous guildmaster would be extremely selective with his student body. This was… somewhat accurate. Zephyr couldn’t afford to let just anyone into his school, but those dear to him would know the free-hearted dragon was inclined to accept the unique over the exceptional.

Still, it wasn’t easy to sift out the Perfect Apples from the Grimey Food. There were essays upon essays he needed to scan at least somewhat thoroughly, but reading a plethora of papers to find the next handful of students was always such a chore. Every letter ranged in quality, which at least spiced up the reviewing experience, but that wasn’t enough to transform the activity into something stimulating.

There was a quiet knock on Zephyr’s window, an unfortunate sign that the guildmaster’s job was about to increase in length. The large silhouette of the delivery dragon disturbed the moonlight trickling into the office. Zephyr let out a passive sigh, “Of course he would bring me mail at this hour…”

The Dragonite outside smiled as Zephyr opened the window. “I figured you would still be here,” he laughed while unbuttoning his satchel. “You never get this done when the Prime Minister requests, do you?”

“Hush.” Zephyr closed his claws together like a shutting mouth. “It would be easier if you followed the directions for the cut-off date.” Zephyr smiled back at him. “I’m hoping these are the actual last letters of the season?”

The Dragonite nodded his head. “I was finally able to fly out to the Western Coast. There’s only a few applications from out that far, but we both know they deserve just as much of a chance to get into the school as the capital kids.” Dragonite handed Zephyr the letters and gave the guildmaster a playful salute. “I won’t waste anymore of your time. Great seeing ya, Zeph.”

Guildmaster Zephyr waved goodbye as the delivery dragon went on his way– It was time to get back to work. He set the new letters beside the main pile, and once again felt his eyes haze over from reading repetitive essays. It took hours to pick out even just a couple standouts, which were letters that contained remotely anything that gripped Zephyr’s attention– or were submitted by some Lord or Lady’s child who had finally come-of-age.

Right before the sun peeked over the horizon, Zephyr had made it to the final letters of the bunch: the bundle brought in by the late-night delivery. He was almost too tired to even consider reading any of them, but this was the homestretch. Two of the three letters weren’t particularly interesting – not to Zephyr, anyways. However, a smile crept across the dragon’s face when he saw that the last letter was addressed from Happy Apple Farm.

Adstrum’s western coast was home to the Kingdom’s most reliable apple growers, a valuable asset to Mystery Dungeon based operations. Zephyr was well acquainted with Gaius, the Tropius in charge of the farm. While they were required to work with each other for business related reasons, the two of them were pretty good friends well before embracing their respective careers.

The Flygon’s smile grew even brighter when he saw the name for the essay: Melrose, Gaius’s pride and joy. That sweet little Pichu was always so excited about exploring. It was a slight punch to the gut that enough time passed for her to be old enough to apply for Red Academy.

Zephyr chuckled quietly to himself. The scrawl was messy, barely even legible at times. Great explorers typically never had neat writings, but the combo of her attempt to make the lettering cute and lack of literacy created quite the eye-sore. Still, his heart was swollen from fondness.

The essay itself was riddled with informal language, and Zephyr snorted from amusement every time the country-bumpkin lingo slipped through. Her enthusiasm had oozed out of every word, and the excessive use of exclamations certainly helped get that across. Zephyr’s tail twitched from side to side as he read each scribble, humming to himself while occasionally mouthing a word he was struggling to understand. This process was infinitely more engaging than the matter-of-fact style essays from before. One sentence really stuck out to the guildmaster: “I think every corner of our world has something fascinatin’ to find, and I wanna be the first explorer to see true beauty in the mundane!”

The guildmaster finished his readthrough and ran a claw along his chin. There was a gravitational pull beckoning him to place Mel’s letter in the accepted pile, but was that biased? Well, weren’t all of his decisions biased? He may have known Melrose when she was little, but that wasn’t the only reason he wanted her in his school… was it? A great deal of questions similar to these ones ran through his head, but the thought process was interrupted by his sudden need to squint.

The sun was far enough into the sky at this point that light was beaming directly into Zephyr’s eyes. “Ah… morning has come. I better finish up.” 

Zephyr’s tail thumped onto the ground a few times as he mulled over the text. It hardly reached most of the requirements for the essay, but everything about it pulled at his heart in ways he both could and couldn’t understand. He failed to fight it any longer. The Flygon nodded his head contently as he placed the last letter in the acceptance pile.

Zephyr was simply so tired and occupied with his thoughts that he didn’t notice the knock on his office door. The Clefairy let herself in and giggled while watching the guildmaster stare into space. She waited a beat before clearing her throat. Zephyr turned to his secretary and felt his face quickly flush over. “Adeline! H-how long have you been standing there?”

Adeline smiled, “long enough.” She made her way over to the desk. “I figured you would be here for the rest of the night. Good morning, by the way.” She adjusted her glasses and tapped Zephyr’s mess of a desk with one of her claws. “I suppose you’re finally finished sifting through the applicants?”

Zephyr nodded his head and sorted the small pile into a stack that he could hand to Adeline. “Correct. Here’s all the approved essays. Sorry to make you write all the acceptance letters at the last minute… again.” The guildmaster gave a sheepish laugh.

Adeline waggled her finger back-and-forth. “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. For shame, Headmaster Zephyr.” The Clefairy winked and took the letters from her boss. “I’ve told you before, I don’t mind one bit. Working for you keeps me on my toes.” She made her way back to the door, her gentle footsteps barely making a sound. “I’ll have the list sent to the Ministry and the letters mailed out before the afternoon sun peaks the sky!” As Adeline slowly closed the door… she peaked back inside and adjusted her spectacles. “Get some rest, okay?”

Without another word, the guildmaster’s secretary closed the door behind her. Zephyr smiled to himself, knowing full well he would be doomed without Adeline. His quarters weren’t too far from the office, but Zephyr hardly had the energy left to move from his chair; He rested his head on the desk and lulled into a series of Cresselia’s finest dreams.

Prime Minister Aster remained stoic despite the plethora of things on the Gardevoir’s mind. Among the usual stockpile of troubles, Guildmaster Zephyr of R.E.D. Academy had once again missed the approval deadline for new students. However, this hardly mattered. Aster was efficient. As long as there were few distractions, the Kingdom of Adstrum would forever run smoothly.

“Aster!” The shrill voice of Adstrum’s Prince screeched through the hall. Aster sighed and turned to face the diminutive Tyrunt. The Prince gave him an upset look, as he usually did, and snarled while stomping his feet on the ground. “I was informed that you haven’t received the list of accepted students yet! This is ridiculous! How am I to have my things packed if we don’t know for certain that I’m going to school?”

“Now, now…” The Gardevoir remained calm, even in the face of adversity. “No need to be concerned, Your Highness. Certainly the Prince of all Adstrum would be administered into the academy without a doubt. Shall I send Jakob to gather your things?” He gave a soft smile, but the Prince looked unconvinced.

“Isn’t it YOUR responsibility to ensure these things get done on time!?” His tail flicked as he about-faced towards his father’s chamber. “You’re the Prime Minister, after all!” The little Prince’s domineering tone wasn’t enough to hide his sly smirk. Aster could barely see the smug look on his face… the little twerp.

“There’s only so much I can do to ensure Guildmaster Zephyr gets his work done on time. I can’t dish out punishment for something so trivial. Adstrum’s Exploration Programs are certainly fundamental to our Kingdom, but it’s ridiculous to get upset at something that’s easy enough to correct.” 

The Gardevoir returned to his walk down the hall, hoping his royal pain-in-the-rear would find someone else to bother – but the Prince trotted after him despite Aster’s attempted escape. “Zephyr shouldn’t even be a guildmaster. He fails to perform his duties every single semester. You should have gotten rid of him years ago!”

“Unfortunately, My Prince,” Aster turned his head back to leer at him. “That is not your call to make.”

The young Tyrunt scoffed at his underling’s explicit rudeness, and without a word turned tail back towards the King’s chamber. Once he was out of sight, Aster sighed into his hands. He knew he was going to get an earful for this, but His Majesty and his half-pint hatchling were the last of Aster’s worries.

The Gardevoir made haste towards his observatory. The golden tower stretched into Adstrum’s sky with serene regality, and the interior was just as magnificent. The entire staircase was lined with Aster’s personal library, saving his most adored books for the observatory itself. Once he made it to the top of the tower, a few small, floating Pokémon with singular eyes approached their master. Aster gave them all a contented look, “is the spell ready?”

The X shaped Unown bowed its body before floating towards a glowing crystal sphere, which was propped atop an elegant arcane device. Aster followed, with the two other Unown at his side. “Excellent, retrieve my tome and we shall begin.” The H and C shaped Unown both used their combined Hidden Power to lift a large book that was set upon a lectern. The Prime Minister double checked his telescope to make sure the sun filter was still inside, before gazing up at a hidden starry sky. “Everything is perfect… as it must be.”

Aster used Psychic to take his spell tome from the Unown, and the pages fluttered to a bookmarked inscription. The Gardevoir ran his hand along the words and gazed up at the orb, which was glittering like a nebula. “I’ve been researching these conditions for far too long to fail. You all orbit the sphere and concentrate your hidden potential…”

The three Unown followed Aster’s instructions, all linking their individually meek – but together powerful psychic abilities. The Prime Minister lifted one of his hands towards the starry orb. The Sphere levitated, and began spinning on an invisible axis. As it accelerated, the darkness started to spread across the sky. The solar eclipse had arrived, bringing with it the intense surge of psychic power needed to perform this feat. “The moon has met the sun! Prepare yourselves!”

Total darkness swept over Adstrum for a mere moment, long enough for arcane-device to absorb enough celestial energy to create a compact Ultra Wormhole in Aster’s study. Books and papers were flung off the shelves, a few documents and trinkets being absorbed into its gaping distortion. The Prime Minister was able to maintain his bearings, but his Unown servants would be sucked in without intervention; Aster held onto his minions with a half-focused psychic.

Once the sunlight had fully returned to the room, the wormhole spat out its prize and closed suddenly. The cluster of living stardust was thrown against a bookshelf, landing upside-down in a pile of books and documents. Aster composed himself, checking over his Unown before frantically approaching the chamber’s new resident. “Could it be?” He kneeled to the floor to inspect the nebulous Pokémon. “You are Cosmog, are you not?”

The Pokémon floated itself back into an upright position, scanning the room before finally meeting the Gardevoir’s gaze. It gave him a perplexed look, parroting Aster’s tone as it spoke. “Are you not? Are you! Not!” The Pokémon giggled and twirled, its voice and movements were filtered through a glittering of stars.

“It’s adorably infantile… Which is to be expected of a newborn, even when it’s a legendary Pokémon.” Aster reached a hand forward, “hello, Cosmog. I’m Aster. I’m a Gardevoir, and I’m going to protect you from this point forward.”

“Aster! Gardevoir! Cosmog!” It giggled again as it inspected Aster’s hand. The Unown seemed offset by the new Pokémon’s presence in the Observatory, but the Cosmog smiled up at them all the same. “You are Aster!” It pointed at the Unown with one of its appendages. “You are Aster!” It smiled as it pointed at the actual Prime Minister himself. “You are Cosmog!” It pointed at itself before spinning again.

The Prime Minister smiled to himself, utterly endeared by the small creature. “I couldn’t be more pleased with the results of the ritual.” He carefully used his Psychic to lift Cosmog closer to him. The little Pokémon squeaked with delight. “Finally… the true heir to the Adstrum Empire has been born.”