Chapter 29 - Time at Lorelei's

The sound of hurried knocks echoed through Celeste’s room, low and insistent, yet not quite enough to pull her from her dreams. She shifted in her bed, fumbling for her blanket, hoping to cocoon herself against the disturbance.

“Cocoon. Heh. That’d be nice,” she thought drowsily, ignoring the unusual coldness of her bed. “Do Metapod dream of becoming Butterfree?”

She couldn’t find the blanket. Still, her body relaxed, and her mind softened. Butterfree fluttered around her, and she felt herself soaring with them.

She jumped towards the sky.

And then she fell right back into reality as the knocking pounded again.

“Delia,” Celeste muttered, her sleepy words barely coherent. “Door.”

Silence from her roommate. The knocks quickened, each one more frantic than the last. Her sluggish mind sparked with a thought—maybe her Slowpoke had finally learned to use psychic moves? Perhaps he could open the door?

“Pat…” she called out weakly, but sleep began gripping her again before she could finish.

The knocking thundered again. This time, there was anger in the sound, causing Celeste to clutch the bed linen. But something was wrong. Instead of soft fabric, her fingers grasped wet, coarse dirt that slipped through her grip.

Scared, she took a long deep breath and the crispy morning air filled her lungs. There was a faint scent in there, elusive and yet familiar. It made her think of the fresh earth of rainforests and impending storms.

What was the word for that again?

Desperate to escape into another tangent, Celeste’s mind tried drifting away somewhere else. Maybe to a rainy Sunday afternoon or a meadow where she could fly with the Butterfree.

But the universe had other plans.

“Celeste, I know you’re awake. Open the door.”

Lorelei’s voice cut through the haze, accompanied by more insistent banging. Fully alert now, Celeste sprang up, blinking against the early morning light. She wasn’t in her room at the Pokémon Centre. And the only Butterfree were the ones fluttering in her stomach as she took in her surroundings.

For a moment, she could only stare in silent disbelief.

She was in a garden, surrounded by small white flowers shaped like hourglasses. Dawn had yet to fully break, but faint rays of light peeked through the storm clouds. A chilly wind brushed against her back, sending fallen leaves skittering towards a nearby house she recognised as Lorelei’s.

Trying to make sense of it all, Celeste’s gaze fell on a small creature watching her intently. Its body was cracked stone, eyes glowing with curiosity.

“Oh…” Celeste whispered, barely audible over Lorelei’s angry knocks. “Hey, Geodude.”

—*——*—

“Is this a dream?” Celeste asked the Geodude in front of her. The Pokémon looked more worn than usual, yet his gaze held a surprising innocence. He didn’t answer, just shrugged his rocky shoulders. “I dream about you a lot… I think…” She paused, wondering what was this one all about. “In my dreams, you have a funny voice.”

The Rock-type remained silent, only the relentless knocking from Lorelei breaking the quiet. Celeste sagged her shoulders, lost for words or thoughts.

“That’s Lorelei’s house,” she whispered to the Pokémon, her voice barely audible. “Am I supposed to go in there?”

She wasn’t entirely sure if this was a dream. Lately, her dreams had been… strange? She couldn’t really tell. More often than not, she woke from nightmares she couldn’t remember. Was this one of them? Another nightmare doomed to be forgotten?

If only Geodude could help…

But he couldn’t. The Pokémon just stared at her in silence, shrugged again, and plodded away as quietly as he had appeared. Celeste sighed, defeated. Once the cracked Geodude vanished, she decided her only option was to find Lorelei.

Stepping carefully away from the delicate flower patch, she followed the stony path encircling the house. The closed blinds in the windows were faded, and ivy had overtaken the garden. Strange. Celeste could’ve sworn she’d been admiring how well kept this place was just a few days ago.

Turning the corner towards the source of the knocking, relief washed over her. It was indeed Lorelei calling out. Except… something was off.

Lorelei’s unmistakable crimson hair, usually tied into a loose ponytail, now cascaded almost to her waist—much longer than it’d been yesterday. Her clothes were more formal, and her voice carried both impatience and a new, unwarranted familiarity.

“If you don’t open this door right now, I’ll break in,” she threatened, pounding on the door. “And since this is still my house, I’ll make you accountable for the damage.”

Celeste frowned. Lorelei’s tone was different, her posture more rigid. Something had definitely shifted.

“I’m here,” Celeste called out, but Lorelei ignored her, kicking the door loudly to emphasise her point. Before anyone could do anything else, the doorknob slowly turned, and the door swung open.

Celeste’s heart skipped a beat as a woman emerged from the house. She appeared to be in her mid to late twenties, with brown hair—exactly the same shade as Celeste’s—tied into a messy bun. She wore a large bathrobe that fluttered as she moved, revealing loose sweatpants stained with coffee and Psyduck slippers. The woman’s lips curled into a smile as her eyes, darkened by large circles yet shining with intensity, locked onto Lorelei. The hazel irises were also a perfect match for Celeste’s.

“I was sleeping,” the woman said casually, her voice eerily similar to Celeste’s. She forced a yawn and began to close the door. “Seriously, Lori, whatever this is, it’s way too early.”

Lorelei put her feet on the way. “We both know you weren’t. Come on, Celeste, this is my house, remember? The least you could do is let me in.”

Celeste looked on in confusion. “What…” she started to say, but as the other woman shrugged and let Lorelei in, the realisation finally sunk in.

The person at the door… somehow, that was Celeste herself.

—*——*—

Celeste wanted to scream herself awake.

Because this had to be a dream.

For what felt like an eternity, she stood frozen at the door, grappling with disbelief. Then she decided she was definitely going to scream.

So she screamed at the top of her lungs… and no one heard her.

Like she was invisible to everyone around her.

Because this was a dream. Duh.

Neither Lorelei nor the uncanny older Celeste could see or hear her. Strangely, this wasn’t all bad. She didn’t want to confront her doppelgänger, and invisibility granted her the freedom to slip unnoticed into the house. As creepy and conflicting as this was, she also really wanted to peek.

Stepping inside, she tripped over a pile of books, causing them to tumble and scatter around the doorway. Surprisingly, no one turned towards her, and she sighed with relief. “So I can touch stuff, huh?” she muttered, settling on her knees. By her was a newspaper, looking fairly new. She must have dropped it along with the books. Her eyes darted to the top of the page, searching for a date.

May 15th, but the year was blurred.

Celeste grumbled as she picked the newspaper up. It was The Bolthound, a tabloid from Galar that often pretended to do investigative journalism. Even though she wasn’t taking it seriously, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the cover story. The title read “The Reaper of Abundance”, and the article talked about a Pokémon attack in a remote village in the Crown Tundra, of all places.

Curiosity piqued, she skimmed through the piece. It seemed Champion Leon, whoever that was, had ventured to the Crown Tundra in search of a creature with a peculiar crown mounted on a ghostly steed. This creature had been terrorising villagers and ravaging the few crops grown in the frozen terrain. According to the article, this was the latest incident in a series of Pokémon attacks, and Leon, along with his Charizard, had successfully evacuated most of the villagers and sealed off access to the area. The article then delved into the broader issue, discussing how the escalating situation with wild Pokémon, which had originated in Kanto, was worsening. Finally, it questioned the effectiveness of the Indigo League’s efforts and whether Galar should join the task force led by Indigo’s Lance Blackthorn.

Celeste placed the newspaper back where she found it. She didn’t know about any Champion Leon, but if this was some sort of future, she was relieved there wasn’t any Champion Lyra of Galar in sight. That would have sucked.

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Carefully, she stood up to look around the room. Books were piled everywhere, notes with strange equations written in her own handwriting were affixed to the walls, and coffee mugs littered every available surface. The place was a mess, nothing like the cosy, tidy living room she’d visited a few days back.

The thought of Lorelei brought Celeste’s attention back to the two women, who were nowhere to be found. For a moment, she panicked, afraid she had lost them. However, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifting from the kitchen provided a clue to their whereabouts.

“Here you go.” As she entered the kitchen, Celeste saw the woman who looked like herself pouring coffee into a small plastic cup. “Sorry, I… ran out of mugs.”

Lorelei grimaced at the plastic cup, but if she was angry about the mess, she didn’t say it. She simply sat at the kitchen table and reached for a fruit from the large bowl in the centre. Her eyes twitched when her gaze fell upon a plate filled with water and a wine bottle placed inside.

“So… can we do this without shouting?” the older Celeste smiled, placing one plastic cup beside Lorelei and settling down next to her. She spun the liquid in her own cup, eyes twinkling. “You even woke Pat up. Do you know how hard that is? It’s way too early for him.”

Celeste shivered at the mention of her Slowpoke. The situation grew more surreal with each passing moment. Lorelei seemed less amused and more concerned, adjusting her glasses as she continued to stare at the wine bottle, clearly unsure how to phrase the inevitable question.

“Loosen up, I’m not drinking early in the morning,” the older Celeste raised her hands in a sign of peace. “If you wanna know, I’m not allowed to drink at all.” She tilted her head to the bottle. “Not unless I manage to thaw this out and hide it before it gets frozen again.”

Lorelei raised an eyebrow. “You’re trying to thaw wine?”

The older Celeste snorted. “Made a breakthrough the other day. Figured I’d celebrate with a drink… or a few. I got drunk, and some of my Pokémon got mad,” she laughed, taking a sip of her coffee. She then gestured to the wine bottle. “That’s revenge, I guess?”

“Tales.”

Celeste jumped at the sound and quickly spun around, gasping at the Pokémon standing behind her. It had lush, pale blue fur, a flowing curly crest, and nine long tails that danced with an ethereal grace. The beauty was captivating, but it was her big, aurora-like eyes that really caught the younger Celeste’s attention. The face was a little different, more elongated and mature, but she would recognise her Powder anywhere in the world.

Any time.

She took a tentative step forward, hearing her counterpart laugh. “Speak of the devil.”

Powder, the Ninetales, puffed out a flurry of ice. She looked just as she had when she was a small Vulpix, and Celeste’s chest tightened with a mix of pride, fear, and excitement. Her little Powder would grow up someday. She wouldn’t be a baby forever. And…

Her eyes darted back to the woman who looked like her… to the woman she would become.

Powder wasn’t the only one who would grow up, and that scared her even more.

“I’m glad someone here acts like a responsible adult,” Lorelei sighed, her gaze shifting towards the Ninetales. “Any chance you can convince your trainer to come back with me? Three months is more than enough for a holiday.”

The Ninetales expressed her opinion with a frost-filled snort and gracefully approached the two women. She placed her front legs on the edge of the table and gently nuzzled the wine bottle, causing both the wine and the water beneath it to freeze instantaneously. Older Celeste just pouted.

“I’m pretty sure you’re completely spoiling it, Powds,” she muttered, leaning back in her seat. Then she smiled dryly at Lorelei. “You don’t need to ask Powder for any help. Trust me. My whole team is already being as annoying as they can be.”

Powder, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction, glanced one last time at the frozen bottle before curling up beside her trainer, resting her head on her lap. It was Celeste’s older self who snorted this time around.

“And then they turn around and act cute, so I can’t complain too much. Can you believe Aria used Bite on my tablet the other day just to make me stop reading and go to sleep? Obviously, it backfired. She’d ended up sending the Rotom in there into a frenzy. Took me the whole night to find it.” Celeste lazily gestured to the coffee machine. “It refused to go back into the broken tablet, though. So now it lives in there and tries to piss Aria off by giving me insane amounts of coffee.”

Lorelei stared at her plastic cup of coffee and grimaced, putting it aside. “I see you’re living a very healthy life,” she said, peeking at the coffee machine, which blinked in response. What the hell even was a Rotom? “You can take it back home with us,” she finished, twisting her lips into what seemed to be a gentle smile.

Even after however many years, Lorelei wasn’t too good with the comforting thing.

“Not dropping it, huh?” The older Celeste raised an eyebrow. “Who sent you here, anyway?”

Lorelei took a deep breath. “Can’t I be worried about you? I’ve been trying to call, but you never pick up. None of the texts we sent are being delivered, and your emails keep bouncing back.”

“Might have lost my phone…” the older Celeste said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Lorelei narrowed her eyes. “It’s, uh… probably at the bottom of the ocean somewhere.”

“Celeste!”

“Don’t worry, I told the Rotom inside to get out before—”

Lorelei’s expression twisted, anger flashing in her crimson eyes. The older Celeste paused, pressing her lips together and shifting her gaze to the door, avoiding her friend’s piercing stare. “I’m making progress with my research,” she said quietly.

Lorelei shook her head. “You are not a researcher. And… we need you back in Kanto.”

Meeting her friend’s gaze, Celeste’s older self asked. “We, huh? Are you going to tell me who send you?”

“Who do you think?”

“Delia?”

With a blank stare and a placating tone, Lorelei offered. “She’s also worried about you. Thinks you’re running away from your responsibilities.”

Celeste’s future self rolled her eyes. “Yep. Delia was the one who said it, alright.” Her tone grew cold, mocking. “Did she also put on a cape and look brooding when she told you that?”

“You know that is not fair,” Lorelei muttered.

With a glint in her eyes, the older Celeste sneered. “He’s blaming you, isn’t he? Let me guess.” She switched her voice to a lower, more masculine tone, mimicking someone else. “You gave her the house, now you bring her back.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not going because I’m too afraid something on Ice Island will hurt my birdies.”

Lorelei tried to suppress a laugh. “He’s my boss, Cee.”

“Oh, now he’s you boss?”

The younger Celeste, watching intently, grumbled. There was too much context missing for her to make any sense of the conversation.

“So, you mentioned making a breakthrough?” Lorelei finally asked. The older Celeste grinned, sharing a knowing look with the Ninetales, who left the kitchen with an eye-roll.

“I was studying physics,” she said, waiting for her Pokémon to return. “But then I stumbled upon this old book.” Powder returned, holding the book in her mouth. “I only picked it up because I noticed my mother’s name on it. Turns out she wrote the new preface, but after reading her bit, I got curious.”

Lorelei picked the book up. “The Legends of Time and Space,” she read aloud, frowning. “Celeste, messing with Legendary Pokémon was what started… Please tell me you are not—”

“I’m going to find Dialga!” she interrupted, puffing her chest with determination.

“You want to find Dialga?” Lorelei gasped. “You’re planning to do what, exactly? Go out there and track down a god?”

The older Celeste tensed her jaw. “Hey, nobody bats an eye when Cynthia crashes a temple in search of whatever.”

“Cynthia dabbles in archaeology,” Lorelei countered. “I don’t think she’s ever…” She shook her head. “You know what? Why don’t you talk to her? I’m sure she will tell you how insane you sound right now.”

“Talk to Cynthia? Hah. That’s rich.” The older Celeste brought her coffee to her mouth.

“I don’t see why—”

“Because I’m reckless, unable to listen to anyone, totally irresponsible, childish as hell, and, oh yeah, the reason the world is fucked.” Older Celeste began counting on her fingers. “Sinnoh’s queen knows a lot, but apparently, she doesn’t know Diantha gossips and that I got dibs on the juicy stuff.”

The younger Celeste perked up at the mention of Diantha. That was someone she knew. This Cynthia person though… She kept hearing her older self and Lorelei arguing about her, but again, she was missing context. Tired of the conversation, she refocused on the kitchen and reached for the book Powder had brought. Maybe reading would tell her more about what the hell was going on. She started flipping through the pages and noticed the preface had indeed been written by her mother. After that, she found the table of contents.

The book was divided into three parts, and she ran her fingers over the titles.

Part One: Palkia, Master of Space.

Part Two: Dialga, Master of Time.

Part Three: ???, The Other Side.

Celeste frowned at the last title, but before she could check the actual contents, she felt someone’s cold, dry fingers over her own. In one swift motion, they forced the book shut.

When she looked up, it was as if she was staring into a mirror.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the older version of herself said, as the surrounding room faded away.

—*——*—

The world had turned dark. The messy house, Lorelei, and Powder had all disappeared, leaving only Celeste.

Both of them.

The teenager stumbled, falling onto her back. When she looked up, hoping no one would be there, her eyes met her older self’s.

Her future self looked exhausted, the dark bags under her eyes even more pronounced. She wore black jeans, a shirt, and a long, flowy dark blue vest. It was nice to see her future self had at least tried to look put together, but Celeste wasn’t entirely convinced. Her counterpart’s left eye was swollen and bruised, and her gaze… it was twisted and lost.

“You… I… Did someone punch you in the face?” the younger girl blurted out.

The older version’s lips twitched in a way that was both amused and annoyed. She made no effort to interact, her attention shifting elsewhere.

“That memory wasn’t hers,” the older woman murmured.

Before Celeste could figure out who her older self was talking to, the scent of impending rain filled the air—the same one from when she first woke up in this strange place. She still couldn’t remember the word for it, but she tried very hard to. Remembering a word was probably unimportant, yet she felt a strong need for this small victory.

Then, before anything came to mind, a bright green light shimmered into existence.

“I told you… consequences,” a shrill voice spoke from within the light. The sound was melodic, somehow like leaves rustling in the wind, yet it carried a sense of danger.

“You did,” the older Celeste said, her voice devoid of emotion. “Over and over again. Yet… here we are. This is on us both.” She moved further into the enveloping darkness and out of the green light. “Deal with it, Celebi.”

The creature in the light—a Pokémon?—huffed loudly, like a child about to throw a tantrum. As the other Celeste vanished, it quieted down and its glow dimmed.

“C-Celebi…” Celeste muttered, unsure if she had heard of it before. Either way, she had never seen a Pokémon quite like this. Its head resembled a large greenish onion, adorned with twitching antennas. Its body was pixie-like, complete with small bug wings on the back. Maybe it was some sort of grass and fairy type, or maybe a bug?

The creature, noticing her, jerked its antennas with curiosity. For a moment, it stared at her with large blue eyes, as if examining her very soul. Finally, after a pause that felt like both the shortest and longest time ever, it flew closer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect this to happen,” Celebi said, placing its small hand on her cheek.

As the creature spoke, the world slowed down, and its green light shimmered brighter than before.

“I don’t understand…” Celeste finally said, but as the light grew in intensity, she closed her eyes, and her mind softened.

Celebi’s voice filled her thoughts with a sense of comfort and fear. “It won’t matter when morning comes.” Celeste wanted to ask questions, but the words were just out of reach. A fog took over her mind, and her body became limp. “Just… follow the path that has been laid down for you,” the creature finished.

And with that, Celeste’s eyes closed. Slumber finally overtook her once more.

—*——*—

Celeste gasped as she flung her eyes open.

She was in her bed at the Pokémon Centre. Early morning light seeped through the rattling window beside her, shaken by gusts of wind. Celeste sat up slowly, trying to grasp the remnants of a dream that had felt so real.

Stumbling to the window, she peered outside. A storm was brewing, dark clouds rolling in from the ocean. She took a deep breath, letting the scent of damp earth fill her lungs.

“Petrichor,” she murmured, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction as she cast the word into the winds. She’d always loved the smell of the ground when it rained.

Careful not to wake Delia or the Pokémon, she closed the window with a gentle click. The room fell silent again, and she made her way back to bed. Lingering visions of a bright green light danced in her mind, but the details of the dream she’d been having slipped away, just out of reach.