“I don’t know how I lived without this,” Alec muttered as he wrestled with an unwieldy sheet of paper. For some reason, the wind had chosen that exact moment to pick up, annoyingly ruffling his new map. He gripped his hands tighter, determined not to lose his recent purchase.
He muttered several faint curses under his breath, drowned out by the paper’s crinkling. After a moment, the wind thankfully relaxed, allowing him to spread out the paper.
As far as maps went, it wasn’t the most detailed or intricate. Sketched in a simple black-and-white and with no legend, it barely held an imitation of the land. The area’s winding rivers and a few other scattered landmarks were drawn in dark-shaded charcoal. A few named locations were hastily scrawled over their respective areas. Alec squinted, just now noticing for the first time the fact that “Cottonsedge Prairie” was misspelled, to “Cotonsedge.” But despite its shortcomings, it certainly functioned as intended, helping Alec navigate the new area. Sure, he’d had access to the maps of the entire region kept in Cyllene’s office, but holding it in his hands helped him navigate far better. When he had bought it from Volo, he wasn’t looking for accuracy or quality, and the price he had paid certainly reflected it.
Anyways, he scanned the horizon, getting his bearings. The rushing and tranquil waters of Gapejaw painted the background, allowing him to find his approximate location relatively easily. “If I’m here…” Alec muttered, tracing his finger along the river on the map. He lowered the map and squinted. “... then the bridge is just over there.”
Conveniently, there was a jagged line cutting perpendicular to the river on the map, rather descriptively labeled “Bridge.” To test his theory, he grabbed Auster’s Pokeball from his belt. The Dartrix emerged, flying high and doing a backflip before fluttering down to Alec’s arm. “There’s supposed to be a bridge nearby on this river,” he said. “Can you fly up and see if you can find it for me?”
Auster chirped and took off. A minute later, he returned, hovering a few feet up in the air and beckoning for Alec to follow him. After about another minute or two of walking, they arrived.
Alec stood, stunned and slack-jawed. The bridge itself, which was unnamed on the map, left a lot to be desired upon first seeing it in person. On the map, it was marked merely as a line.
When I saw just the line on the map, I expected there to be more to it, he thought. Instead of having any handrails or supports, the bridge was essentially a line of four lashed-together logs. The grass and foliage had begun to grow around the edges, adding to the bridge’s rickety and makeshift appearance.
Well, the wood didn’t seem to be rotting or anything. Alec didn’t have any reason to not use it, and as far as the map showed, there was no other way to cross the river that didn’t involve walking for hours.
Hesitantly, Alec stepped up on the logs, experimentally shifting his weight. The wood remained firm, and he raised his back foot up onto the bridge too. The rope lashings held strong and the wood did not budge. He sucked in a breath, prayed a short mental prayer, and fixed his eyes forward on the horizon.
Before he knew it, he was safely on the dirt on the other side.
“Legendaries Above,” he muttered, shaking his head.
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If there was one thing Alec needed to get used to regarding the mirelands, it was the height variation. The sprawling landscapes of the fieldlands had a few hilly areas, but that quickly compared to the cliffs of the mirelands. Several areas were fully inaccessible to him, naturally walled off by a sheer cliff face or steep drop. In the distance, he could see a waterfall of sorts, cascading down the multi-layered crags of the landscape. Just from what he could see, he’d need to scale a massive rock wall just to see the top of the mirelands.
Or I could take the easy way out and wait until Auster can fly me up there, he thought with a chuckle.
Since crossing the river, he began to notice the gradient of the land. To the west of the river was labeled “Golden Lowlands” on the map, and “Scarlet Bog” to the east. The dead grass - which Alec supposed could be taken for golden - was far less frequent, leaving only the dark-brown dirt and mud to decorate the landscape.
Alec stopped his exploration for a moment to see if there were any Pokemon nearby. He climbed atop a nearby rock to get a high vantage point and scanned the surrounding area. A couple of Psyduck played in the mud, but everything was otherwise barren.
Then, something irregular caught his eye. What is that? He furrowed his brows, inspecting the strange, man-made structure etched into the cliff face. At first glance, it appeared to be a cave. Ordinary, blending in smoothly with the rest of the landscape. But if you looked close enough, the rocks seemed to part to reveal two massive pillars, cut from the same stone as the cliff itself.
Incredulously, Alec’s eyes shot back to his map. There was no indication of anything like that on there. He hummed, before mentally plotting out his route over to the pillars.
Once he had a route planned in his head, he checked the time on his necklace watch. It was only 2:21 in the afternoon. He had plenty of time before nightfall.
He had to see this for himself.
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And somehow, they were even bigger in person.
Alec craned his neck upward, mouth agape at the magnitude of the pillars. Rather, the tunnel into the cave, with its mighty entrance heralded by the pillars. They seemed to hold up the mountain itself with how big and firm they were, acting as a keystone put in place for the terrain’s stability. At the top, where an absolutely massive crossbeam connected the two pillars, a symbol was etched into the rock. A circle encased inside a downward-facing semicircle, connected by a horizontal crossbeam. The symbol almost reminded Alec of a partially complete solar eclipse, where the sun just peeked out from behind the moon.
Alec stared down the mouth of the man-made cave. The air inside looked dim and musty, only lit by a few intermittently scattered torches mounted to the walls. He could only see about thirty paces deep into the cave before the darkness swallowed the rest. From what he could see, the walls and floor were textured with stone tiles, presumably the ceiling too.
Curious, Alec slowly made his way inside. As he passed the cave’s gaping maw, he gently brushed his hand against the stone pillar. The course stone carried a subtle ruggedness, with gentle undulations and slight irregularities. There was a sense of history in the slightly weathered surface, offering a tactile connection to the passage of time and the stories it held. Alec’s hand shied away, worried that he might damage it from how fragile and dusty it felt.
Legendaries Above. “How did they build something like this?” Alec wondered aloud. From the pillar, his hand was dusted with a fine white powder, rubbed off from the pillar. Based on the state of decay of the stone, the area likely had been there for generations. The stone there looked similar - but completely different - from the stone used in the foundation of Jubilife’s town hall. It looked similar in color but this was definitely older by a considerable margin. That meant this temple of sorts had been built before even Jubilife Village was founded.
A temple was the only explanation Alec could think of off the top of his head. Maybe to the Sinnoh that the Pearl clan worshipped? Was the Pearl clan zealous enough to build such a massive structure, carved right into a cliff face?
The torches seemed to stretch on forever, cutting through the darkness like oncoming headlights on the freeway at night. Just little flickering pinpricks of red-orange, off into the distance. The only indication that the world hadn’t ended up ahead. Regardless, Alec pressed on.
Each hard footstep on the firm stone sounded like a gunshot, loud enough to deafen him. The sound did not echo at all, seemingly being dampened by something.
As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dim area, the area came into greater clarity. The walls and floor simply repeated the same pattern of stone brick tiles. Though, if he squinted and really strained his eyes, Alec thought he could just make out what appeared to be an atrium at the end of the hallway.
For the final fifty paces of the hall, he quickened his speed. When he reached the end, seeing the hall open up into a grand atrium…
Was that a person? Who is that?
Standing dead-center in the room was a short person with long gray hair. They - presumably she - stared intently at something on the back wall of the atrium. She grasped a torch in her hand, holding it high to illuminate something. Alec followed her gaze up toward the wall, seeing a large plaque with writing on it. It was bathed in the same harsh red-orange as the rest of the temple.
Slowly, she lowered her torch and turned around. “Hello there,” she rasped, in the telltale voice of an elderly lady. “It’s rare that someone ever visits me here. Who might you be?”
I could ask you the same question…, he thought with a chill. If the structure was a temple, then this woman must be the priest. “Uh, I’m Alec,” he mumbled.
“Speak up, boy” she chastised. “These old ears aren’t as sharp as they used to be.”
“I’m Alec!” he whisper-shouted. “I’m with the Survey Corps.”
The strange lady furrowed her brows and looked upward, as if trying to recall something. After a moment, understanding dawned upon her. “Ah, so you’re the bright-eyed lad the other Pearls were jabbering so much about. The one who beat old Kleavor. I must say, thank you for finally putting that brat Lian in his place. Sinnoh knows he needed a good humbling.”
“Huh?” Alec stared. Who was this person, and how did she know about what happened with Lian? Was she a part of the Pearl clan? “You’re welcome, I guess. Who are you again?”
The strange lady laughed. “My name’s Calaba.”
The silence she created hung heavier than one of the stone pillars out front of the temple. Alec’s expression grew more confused. Just Calaba? Usually, people say a little bit more about themselves during introductions. She implied she’s a Pearl, but what is she doing here?
Calaba grew a smug smirk, seemingly pleased with herself for confusing Alec. Yeah, she was definitely being vague on purpose to confuse him.
“What is this place?” he hesitantly asked.
“What do you mean by that?” she countered. “Because my answer depends on when.”
Alec furrowed his brows. “When what?”
“When you’re asking, of course,” she answered cryptically. “You see, boy, this temple is a bit like me. Old. Wrinkly. Seen better days.” She counted off on her fingers as she spoke. “Now, she’s nothing but a shadow of what she once was. Glorious and majestic. And let me tell you, I was too, back in the day.”
Calaba was right. The ruin around them - Alec was correct in assuming that it was a temple - had definitely seen better days. If he concentrated, Alec could almost picture it in its full glory, with white and intact walls. “It’s a temple, right?” he asked after a moment. “To whom?”
“Sinnoh, who else?” Calaba shot back. “But I suppose it makes sense you didn’t know. The years have not exactly been kind to this space, and fewer people even know it exists. It’s yet another reminder of the importance of space.”
Huh? Alec thought. “What does this have to do with space?”
Calaba’s smirk grew. “I like you, boy. Of course the Temple of Space has something to do with it!” As if Alec had sprung a verbal trap she’d set up, she spoke with an animated dramatic flair. “It stands as a reminder of the importance of utilizing space, no matter how vast it may be. The ancestors of the Pearl clan wanted to dedicate some of Hisui’s space back to Sinnoh. The Diamond clan fools ridiculed them, said they were wasting their precious time on such a wanton project.”
She looked down to the floor and her eyes gained a dull luster. “But now, the space here is completely wasted. No one still lives to take care of it. ‘Cept me, that is.”
Calaba’s last sentence seemed to echo throughout the Temple of Space, unlike all of her other words. Alec felt a chill and a heavy fog of silence settled down for a moment.
Suddenly, Calaba looked upward and steeled her emotions, as if her past explanation had been forgotten. She turned away from Alec, toward the back wall. “Come, boy, let me show you something.”
Taken aback by her suddenness, Alec slowly cast his gaze upward to a strange deviation on the wall. It almost looked like a plaque, with thick stone embossings beveling out on the sides. The plaque stood as the only major ornament on the wall - apart from the hundreds of cracks and chips taken by time. It had some words written on it, though many shards of stone had fallen off, rendering the text nigh illegible. What was left was far too old and worn down for Alec to read, let alone piece together what it said.
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“I still remember exactly what was written on that wall. The words of the wife of the Ancient Hero herself - the very motto of us Pearls. Listen closely, boy,” Calaba said. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began her recitation.
“All lives touch other lives to create something anew and alive.”
She spoke with a sort of unnatural cadence and rhythm, flowing from syllable to syllable like a Flying-type riding the winds. As she spoke, she did not blink. Calaba only stared up at the wall, though she had said she did not need to read anything.
Alec felt a chill - though there was no air coursing through the temple. What did that mean? Even if I asked, I doubt that Calaba’d explain it to me, Alec thought. The two stood in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of those strange, powerful words sink in. “Huh,” he eventually said.
“I’ve stared at these words my entire life, and I still haven’t the foggiest idea what they mean,” Calaba supplied. Alec sensed that this was yet another act of hers, though he had no idea where she was going with it. His best course of action was to go with the flow, though he could only guess what those words meant. She shot him a sideways glance, defying their height difference. “I don’t suppose you have any insight?”
Alec shook his head and hummed sadly. Honestly, there was nothing he could say. He’d never been one for understanding poetry or literature. He exhaled through pursed lips. “I guess it could be about teamwork? Like how my Pokemon and I all push each other to get stronger?” he said uncertainly. His words had little foundation to them, like a sandcastle destroyed by the tide.
“Well then,” huffed Calaba. “If that’s all you have to say, you’ve seen all there is to see here. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help on your journey.”
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As Alec exited the Temple of Space, he incredulously looked toward the horizon, where the sun seemed to be an hour or two away from falling below the horizon.
In sheer surprise, he grabbed his necklace watch and checked the time. He was only in the temple for what felt like fifteen minutes, so it should only be…
“Legendaries Above," he exclaimed in confusion, a gasp escaping him. His watch, which had never run fast or slow, not even a single time, said that it was 6:00 in the evening.
Had he really been in the temple for that long? Legendaries Above, had he really talked with Calaba for that long? He remembered it very clearly, it was only about 2:00 when he entered the temple. And since the sun was setting, logically, his watch wasn’t wrong.
“What the heck,” Alec muttered under his breath. I’ve gotta stay focused, he thought. I just wasted about four hours talking to someone.
Well, apparently it was getting late, so he needed to head back to the village. With a brief check of his compass, he started his journey back to Dorian and the cart. Best to spend the rest of the day doing errands to make up for lost time.
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Several hours later, Alec rounded a corner and caught sight of Anvin from outside his shop. The older man noticed him and nodded in greeting.
As he walked up, Alec rummaged through his satchel, organizing everything he’d gathered throughout his two days of surveying the mirelands. He’d picked up almost everything that caught his eye or seemed useful, meaning his satchel was bursting at the seams with all the junk he’d gathered.
I guess it’s time for me to get another lesson on how to organize items better, he thought with a grimace. It’d definitely be worth it, but I really don’t want to pay the money for it.
“Evening,” Anvin greeted once Alec was close enough. “Usual?”
“Nope,” Alec replied cheerfully. “I got another star. I grabbed one of everything the mirelands had to offer.” He began to unload his items onto Anvin’s table, making sure to not let any roll off. The standard apricorns and tumblestones, alongside three strange flora he hadn’t identified.
Anvin nodded in acknowledgment. “The mirelands? Congratulations, you’re moving up in the world. Next thing you know, you’ll be knee-deep in snow up in the icelands, wishing you had never joined the Corps.”
“Eh, we’ll see,” Alec said with a laugh once everything was on the table. “Here ya go.”
Upon seeing the items, Anvin raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t kidding about grabbing everything.” He rubbed his chin, appraising the haul. “I won’t be able to help you with most of these, but I’ll buy the usual items at the same rate as last week.” He picked up an apricorn and held it up to the sun, turning it in his hand and inspecting its surface in the light.
“What do you mean?” hesitated Alec. “I thought you’d buy almost anything.”
“I only buy what’s profitable,” he corrected, still appraising Alec’s items. “And bugworts and medicinal leeks definitely aren’t."
Alec opened his mouth to object, but Anvin cut him off. “ - Yet. They aren’t profitable yet. Talk to Joyce, she’ll show you what to do with ‘em. Sinnoh, she may buy them off you as-is. I hear her supplies have been lacking on account of a bad crop this season.”
Though Anvin was one of Alec’s main sources of income, it made sense that he wouldn’t just buy anything that Alec brought to him. That would be absurd. He was running a business, and he needed to make a profit just as badly as Alec did.
“Why Joyce, though?” Alec asked.
Anvin finished his inspection of the apricorns, gingerly setting them down on the counter. He grabbed a burlap sack from a nearby table and began to bag them, eyeballing their weight. “They’ve both got medicinal properties. I dunno what’s special about them, but if you prepare them in just the right way, they help with the healing process, doubly so on Pokemon.”
Alec gasped. That was just what he needed! “Seriously?” he asked incredulously. “Great, I’ll go talk to her,” he exclaimed. Field medicine would allow him and his Pokemon to train and fight harder than ever before, without fear of a lasting injury. He grabbed his satchel, scooping up the aforementioned bugworts and medicinal leeks, and dashed away to Joyce’s.
“Alec, wait!” Anvin called. “I haven’t paid you yet!”
There was no response.
“Eh, kids these days,” he groaned, raising a hand to his forehead. “I’ll give him his money when he comes back tomorrow. What I wouldn’t give to be young like that again…”
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Alec’s breath was heavy by the time he reached Joyce’s door. Standing just outside, he crouched with his hands on his knees for a minute or two to catch his breath.
Maybe that was a bit overkill, he thought in between gasps for air. I probably shouldn’t have done that.
After he fully caught his breath, he steeled himself and knocked on Joyce’s door. She opened it a moment later and immediately grew a satisfied smile. “What happened this time?” she asked playfully.
“Nothing, actually,” Alec replied, self-satisfied. “I’m fine.”
Joyce quirked an eyebrow, seemingly confused.
“No, really, I haven’t done any battling,” he insisted with a grin. “Though I’ve got some plants from a harvest that Anvin said you’d be interested in.” He held out the bundle of leeks and showed it to her. A few flecks of dirt still clung to them and several were squished or bruised from riding around in his satchel all day.
Joyce’s eyes nearly bugged out from her head. “Are those medicinal leeks?” she asked in disbelief. “Where’d you get so many?” She reached out and snatched the bundle from Alec, hastily undoing the string. Like it was a tear of Mew itself, she gingerly held the leek and gaped at Alec.
“I, uh, the mirelands?” stuttered Alec, taken aback by Joyce’s sudden break of composure. He watched as she hurried over to her countertop, where she grabbed a knife and a wooden cutting board.
With a nod of her head, she gestured to an empty bucket resting on the floor. “Fetch some water, quickly,” she said, slicing the leaves in half at the point where the purple bled into the white on the stalk. “You’re getting an impromptu lesson on how to brew a medicinal salve.”
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A few minutes later, once Alec returned with the water, he saw the bundle of leeks lying on the table, most of them intact. Some had been chopped, with the purple halves brushed aside in a disorderly pile and the white halves in a clean stack. Joyce tended a newly lit fire in her hearth, shifting the logs with a steel poker. She grabbed a large pot, filled it with water from the bucket, and hung it above the fire to boil from a hook.
“What exactly are we doing?” Alec questioned, surveying the scene with an inquisitive eye. This reminded him of walking into the chemistry lab at school and seeing all the chemicals and apparatuses out on the tables, ready for him to use. He felt his fingers twitch in anticipation.
“So,” Joyce began, turning to face Alec. “We call these plants medicinal leeks. They taste awful, like biting into a tree. But if you prep ‘em right, it’ll draw out their healing properties. Only the stem, though - the white part. You can throw out the rest. I’ve heard Colza uses them as clippings to grow more. I’d look into that if I were you.”
Alec nodded in understanding. “So why are you boiling water? Do they need to be cooked first?”
“No, that’s just to soften them. If you crush the stem, it’ll squeeze out the juices, which does the healing. Boiling just makes that part easier.” She headed over to the table. “Come here, help me cut the rest of them.”
Alec grabbed his survival knife, carefully flipped out the blade, and stood beside Joyce. They each grabbed an unprepared leek from the pile and bisected it along the end of the stem. Alec’s knife got caught in the center, creating a jagged cut. He grimaced and Joyce took notice.
“When you cut, make sure to push forward too, on top of pushing down. It’s easier to control the blade that way,” she advised, not taking her eyes off of her leek and knife.
Alec hummed and gave it a shot on another leek. Sure enough, his knife slid right through it, making a perfectly clean and smooth cut. Before long, they had the entire bundle prepared. Joyce checked the pot and found that the water was just beginning to boil. She picked up the cutting board - with all the cut leeks atop it - and brushed them into the pot, being careful to avoid any splashing.
“Now, we wait about twelve minutes, until they turn a light gray color, like a sunbleached stone.”
“Got it,” Alec said, grabbing his necklace watch and taking note of the current time. It was 7:17, so they’d be done at exactly 7:29.
“That’s awfully convenient,” Joyce smirked. “Normally I’d sing three songs to keep the time.”
“You can still do that, I won’t stop you,” Alec deadpanned dryly, causing her to laugh heartily.
“Not a chance, kid,” she said with a grin.
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While they waited, Alec showed Joyce the other plant that he had, called a bugwort according to Anvin. They looked almost like flowers, but instead of petals, they had a ball of purple fuzz, not unlike a dandelion. When she saw them, she grimaced. “I don’t like those things,” she said uneasily. “I know a way to cook them into a potent healing medicine, but it’s addictive, like a drug. If used properly, they’re perfectly safe, but otherwise, an overdose can be fatal."
Alec shuddered and felt a bitter taste form in his mouth. He’d never done drugs himself and had no intention of starting.
“I’ll buy them from you, but I won’t teach you how to cook them,” she said with an aura of finality. Alec nodded and wordlessly handed them over, dusting his hands off carefully to not leave any residue or pollen.
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Precisely twelve minutes later, Joyce grabbed a pair of cloth pot holders and took the pot off the fire. She used a pair of tongs to remove them from the still-hot water, one by one, resting them back on the cutting board. The stems glistened in the firelight from the thin coat of water droplets still clinging to them.
“We don’t need the water for anything else. You can pour it out once it cools off,” Joyce informed. “Now, use the flat of your knife to crush the stems, like this.”
She held her palm pressing down on the top of the blade and her other hand on the handle. When she crushed the stem, she didn’t go straight down; she rolled the pressure along the stem length-wise, squeezing out a thick goop from inside it, about the color of an eggshell. She flipped her knife upside-down and used the flat top of it to scrape the extract into a little glass bottle, about the same size as the one Volo sold him containing the Aux Evasion.
“There you go,” Joyce grinned. “Medicinal leek extract. I’ll lend you some glass bottles so you can take half, since you helped out with the preparation. You brought the leeks, I showed you the recipe, it’s a fair trade for now.”” At Alec’s wordless inquisitive look, she continued. “And I don’t expect you to donate them for free, of course. I’ll buy any more off of you in the future.”
“Great, thanks,” said Alec, satisfied. Joyce stepped aside, allowing him to stand beside her and assist in the crushing process. Before long, they’d filled two bottles. Alec frowned at their results. “I expected a bit more,” he lamented.
Joyce shrugged. “I’ve spoken to Colza about selectively breeding leeks to produce more extract, but he said it’d take generations to see any meaningful changes. That’s just how Sinnoh designed ‘em. And you can’t exactly question Sinnoh’s designs, now can you?”
“No, I guess not. Thanks for showing me how to do that.”
“Absolutely. Everyone should have access to that knowledge, in my opinion. I know you’ll use the salve to help people out. Have a good evening.”
“Same to you,” Alec said as he gingerly held the bottle. “I’ll be back soon with more leeks, and I’ll be careful around bugworts.” He waved goodbye and pushed the door open, disappearing into the tangerine light of the evening.
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“I can feel it in my bones,” said Calaba, speaking to the fetid air that permeated her life in these inhospitable lands.
She stood atop a hill that overlooked the setting sun, though she stared directly northward. “Something is about to happen. Something big.” Beside her, Bibarel tilted its head, obviously confused.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” she continued, turning her attention toward her partner. “We humans come up with all sorts of bizarre superstitions … all sorts of things stacked atop our lives. We get a vague feeling in our gut, or a tingly sense of anticipation, and bet everything we have that something will happen. The Diamonds say only Sinnoh knows the future, so they simply say they’ve got a feeling. For all our strife, they have a point.”
“Bib?” Bibarel asked, sitting down on its haunches. It wanted to hear her story, what she had to say. Calaba shook her head and shrugged off her backpack. Best lighten her load. Her bones were getting old and unfit to carry such burdens for too long.
“But the only thing we don’t have - the only thing I want to know - is when it’ll happen.” Her hand involuntarily twitched. It used to draw her attention, but she barely noticed it now. “Right now, I’d give my left ear to know what the future holds, and why it’s making me so uneasy.”
She sat down on a rock with a heavy groan. Bibarel stayed where it was, though its eyes started to droop. Fair enough, it was getting late. She’d best be quick about it.
“Time is such a bizarre thing we’ve created,” she said, blinking past the vermillion glare of the sun. “Space makes leagues more sense. If I walk two steps to the left, I’m at a new where. But at the end of the day, the entire concept of when is nothing but a creation of us humans. The only when you Pokemon concern yourselves with is when your next meal will be. None of this talk of schedules or deadlines. We humans spend years, decades, lifetimes occupying ourselves with meaningless drivel.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the mighty Temple of Space. The magnum opus of her people’s finest craftsmen, the summation of their entire lives. Where they had poured the entirety of their ration of time, hoping to be remembered.
She did not flinch as yet another chip of stone crumbled off and fell to the ground. Not this time, at least.
“Oh Sinnoh, where must we go to please you? Wherever you bid, from this vast space to the next, I will be,” she whispered, quieter than the mutterings of the wind.
“But if there’s one thing we agree on, you and me, Bibarel, it’s the importance of timeliness. If they cannot find their next meal in time, a Pokemon out in the wild will die. And if they cannot escape a predator, well, they will sate the timeliness of another. Either way, the importance -”
Calaba looked down to find Bibarel’s attention elsewhere. Having grown bored, it had waddled off away from her and begun to gnaw on a stone. The nerve of the little creature, with no respect for its elders. Calaba huffed, then pulled out an oran berry from her backpack and rested it beside her.
Entranced by the smell, Bibarel immediately discarded its chewing stone and scampered over. Though the food held its attention, not her, it would have to do.
“And for humans, we hold timeliness as a rhythm to move our entire lives to. Suppose the architects emerged to find that another team had finished an identical temple a week before. All their work would be invalidated, for they were not the first to complete it.”
On the horizon, the rift atop Mount Coronet rumbled and swelled, like a festering wound rotting away at the night sky. Calaba’s thoughts drifted elsewhere, to the boy that had visited her earlier that day.
“And you, child who found themselves caught up in this battle you should not be a part of.”
Thunder struck off in the distance. A cry of agony responded, scaring hundreds of Flying-types from their nests. The flora of the mirelands seemed to lose a few shades of green. A tear rolled down her cheek as her soul was torn in half in sympathy. The feeling in her bones evaporated.
“Why is it we value timeliness?” Calaba whispered. “Hunger. Attention. Novelty. But most importantly, it seems Sinnoh values it as well. I fear, Chosen, that you were too late.”