Chapter 1 – Prologue

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White tiles lined the walls of an expansive, sterile room, adding peaceful regularity to a medical chamber’s already majestic yet depressing atmosphere.

 

A yellowing grassy snake coiled around itself in the center of the room, his body wrapped with layers upon layers of tubes. Even the best medical technology in the kingdom could only barely slow down his rapidly declining health. King Edward could only move his head around slightly, his brown wilted collar dragging along feebly on the ground. He could see the blurry silhouettes of multiple Pokemon standing in front of him, some adorned in glossy gold decoration but all wearing pitch-black scarves to symbolize their closeness to the king.

 

One of the figures in the small crowd spoke up in a soft, muted voice. “I’ve just received confirmation that the ritual is about to be completed, you are able to let go now, your majesty.”

 

Edward turned to face them. “Same ritual every life, yet I always feel the anxiety like it’s my first time” he chuckled.

 

A Lurantis was the next to speak, “Oh Edward, you were always so overly paranoid, however many lives you live”

 

“I’d be much less so if the process wasn’t so painful for all of us, next life I’m going to find a way to refine the reincarnation ritual, I promise you” His speech started to slur.

 

“I think it’s time for you to go now. I and the rest of the cabinet will be waiting for you on the other side dear”

 

“Love you Melissa” Edward whispered, before relaxing his head, letting the mattress underneath him fully support his head. His eyes were now fully relaxed and closed, plunging him into darkness for the last time in this life.No one was mourning, but they were all silent out of respect for the end of King Edward, the Everlasting King of Krux’s 44th life, and in mental preparation for the next one, in the cycle of royal death and rebirth neverending.

 

The silence did not last long however, interrupted by the sound of frantic footsteps coming from outside the room, followed by a Kirlia, looking both panicked and in complete fear bursting through, the door swinging open and slamming into the wall beside it.

 

“T-THE RITUAL… S-Somethings w-wrong with the ritual, y-your majesty…” Kirlia whimpered. Countless sharp glares instantly shot at the hyperventilating psychic, the crushing pressure locking the pokemon into a submissive kneeling position

 

“What do you mean something is wrong?” Melissa growled.

 

A Sceptile from the crowd continued. “We made sure everything before the ritual was set up correctly, how did you screw it up anyways???”

 

“I-I don’t k-know sir, t-t-the–”

 

“His majesty is already dying, do whatever you need to, just complete the ritual at any cost, NOW”

 

The Kirlia shot up immediately, legs still trembling from the pressure bearing down, and dashed out of the chamber, not even acknowledging the command that was just barked at her.

 

“Edward… Edward… please Edward…. hold on for a little longer” Melissa begged.

 

It was far too late for Edward to continue living now, despite his best efforts. The sounds of his wife, the Everlasting queen of Krux, slowly drowned out by white noise, before again being replaced by absolute silence. The world around him was plunged into complete nothingness.

 

King Edward, the Everlasting King of Krux, had passed away.

 

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Slow, labored footsteps rang out as a thin figure trudged slowly up the rocky outcrop. They were nothing more than skin and bones at this point, more akin to a lifeless husk than an actual living human.

 

His supplies had all but run out a long while ago, but that didn’t matter, he wasn’t planning on returning from where he was going anyways.

 

The figure emitted weak raspy breaths from his emotionless face. Countless lines streaked down it, originating from the corner of his unfocused, bloodshed eyes, tear glands long dried out from years of endless depression.

 

The only emotion he felt now was surprise and disappointment, at himself for letting his life fall apart like this, at the people around him for not even batting an eye when he let go of everything, and even at the park rangers for letting him come up this far without care. He looked down and thought to himself, not even the world wants me to continue living I guess, before audibly sighing.

 

So lost in disappointment, he didn’t even notice the rocky path around him start to thin out and transition to air, not even the intense rush of wind around his ears could break him out of his thoughts. Soon, all that was in front of him was a thin buffer of granite followed by a thousand-foot drop into the jagged rock below.

 

Bringing his head up once again he was met with a vast forest beneath him. Leaves swaying around, their direction entirely dictated by the still intense rushing of wind, now reversing in direction and rushing from behind the man, enticing him to step off even further.

 

So ironic. He bemused. Millions of people would die for a view like this, and I get to die at a view like this. Lucky me.

 

The smallest pebbles tumbled off as he moved to sit down on the edge, bony legs now dangling limply off the edge. He nonchalantly kicked off his worn-down shoes, sending them hurtling down in an instant before slamming loudly into the cold hard ground below.

 

Grim realization finally caught up to him as nausea fully overtook his body, he was really about to die right there and then. No chance to wimp out now, not again, not ever.

 

He steeled himself, extreme nausea still limiting his motor control and causing him to sway. The howling winds silenced themselves for a moment, providing a brief moment of serenity. That’s my cue to jump. Fuck this world, fuck this life, and fuck you, god.

 

He relaxed his body, sliding off the edge, wind kicking up from underneath him now. True terror flashed across his wide-open eyes as the last few seconds of his life came rushing down all at once. The jagged, brown rocks were approaching him now, causing him to seize up on instinct before he could eve–

 

The world returned to darkness once again. Alan Forges, completely forsaken by the world, had passed away.

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Alan awoke again to his surroundings still completely enshrouded in darkness. No, darkness even darker than darkness, complete nothingness to its fullest extent. He knew for a fact he was no longer alive, he remembered dying in a car crash…. No that wasn’t right… His memories were rapidly slipping away he realized.

 

It was dark, so dark, enough to cause him slight panic. Not being able to feel his own body further exacerbated that info a fully-fledged panic attack. What the fuck? He tried to exclaim, just to realize his mouth no longer existed. What did I ever do to deserve this? He couldn’t even remember how he died anymore. It was so dark.

 

Before any further panic could settle in, he felt as if something lightly tugged on his ghost-like form. Even he himself couldn’t feel anything, so he was very much intrigued by this new external force prickling his body. It’s getting more intense. He commented, as he started to feel more like a ragdoll being jostled around than whatever he was supposed to be currently.

 

Silent whispers echoed around him, like a hymn being read out from a book or mantra being recited. Alan was never very religious, so he paid little notice to the voices around him, growing in intensity at a faster rate than even the grabbing and pulling of his body, now violent enough to fling him around like a house in a tornado.

 

Instantly all the sources of discomfort surrounding Alan doubled, tripled, quadrupled in strength. The voices were more akin to demonic screaming, injected past his metaphorical ears and directly into his perception. The tugging was no longer a suggestion, it was more similar to a ravenous wolf, clawing and ripping into his form like he was its first meal in decades. The pain… The pain… Alan couldn’t even think straight now, his entire perception of his surroundings warped simply by the mountain of excruciating pain he was barely tolerating.

 

Similar to his memories of his entire life, Alan felt as if his body was rapidly dissolving. It was being pulled around, ripped apart, reformed and most importantly, he could feel himself being grabbed and mashed into a foreign entity. The entity felt similar to him, though he couldn’t tell much else due to the pain spiking all over his mangled spectral form.

 

As the two beings violently twisted and turned into each other, all Alan could do was desperately wish for the pain to stop. He wished for it to simply just all go away, he wished for the maddening nothingness to return, he tried to cry out again and again, only for not even a single squeak to emanate out.

 

The suffering continued for what Alan perceived as an eternity, but eventually, the forces applied to him sputtered out one by one. Even the foreign body he was twisted into felt part of him now. Did it end? Did I finally win out? Did my wish actually come true for once?

 

Alan was just so tired, he just wanted to stop existing already. He wished for one last thing. Take the rest of my memories and leave me be. Please.

 

A voice rang out some distance away from where Alan lay.

 

I cannot grant you that wish, unfortunately. You have a purpose to serve for me, Alan. Take my gift, take on the form of King Edward, Everlasting King of Krux, and free me from my eternal damnation. That is my one command for you. Good luck Alan.

 

Alan could neither make heads nor tails of the contents or the bearer of the message, still bouncing around inside his head like the persistent pain he had endured just moments ago. He felt the world blanking again, he deserved this rest for once, it was like going to sleep again in his human life. He stopped feeling, he stopped thinking, he stopped existing.