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MATURE: POKÈMON: The Legend of the Sacred Gift (Two)


Reader and Writer
Feb 6, 2009
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After a long time away, I am pleased to be back as an active author here at my beloved Workshop. For those who know of me from my past works, I hope that I am not too rusty. :sweat:

Without further babbling, here we go!


One: The Uninvited Guest
Two: Story Time
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Re: Pokèmon: The Legend of the Sacred Gift

The Uninvited Guest

After all the adventures under the bright lights in years prior, today, the dancing shadows and flickering orange darkness was comforting, a long awaited respite for a weary young man.

Nightfall had arrived, and the man, barely even nineteen years old, winced and groaned as he pulled himself up out of his easy chair to his feet. He dropped another log onto the crackling pile of embers in the fireplace and limped back to his seat.

A relieved sigh and another long sip of whiskey. The pain in his joints and the burning in his throat was always welcome nowadays. At least he was still capable of feeling.

The man peered around his dark shack of a cabin. His chair, his fireplace and his solitude. That was it-- save a stray Rattata or two scurrying about. It was all the man wanted, and he had been living like this for the past two and a half years. After what he had been through, he could not bear to be around anything that reminded him of his past. The memories still burned at him like poison, even after all this time.

Tonight, however, was a different night.

The young man had received a letter via Pidgey the previous morning, which he found very offputting because no one, outside of maybe a half-dozen even knew he lived out here in the thickest part of the Redvine Forest, half a world away from where anyone knew his name.

The man took the folded parchment from his pocket and unfurled it in the glow of the fire.

I finally found out where you are. I'm coming to see you.

There was no signature or return address, but the man knew precisely who had sent it. The graceful swoops and waves of the handwriting were unmistakable. Also, he wouldn't know how to explain it to someone, but he knew she would be arriving soon. He could feel it.

The man exhaled deeply and drained his drink. He knew she'd find out one day, but how had she found him? Why was she coming here? What did she expect him to do? Nothing was the same as how it was. He wasn't the same person he was back then.

Three timid knocks on the door were right on cue.

The man just sat silently staring at the fire. He half-hoped it was just the wind gusting outside, but he knew better. Seconds later there was another knock, a more confident pounding this time.

Wishing he still had whiskey left, the man bit his bottom lip and limped to the door. He opened it to reveal the person behind the memorable penmanship standing in the doorway, a young woman about his age with shining locks of copper.

Immediately upon seeing the firelight glimmering in the girl's soft green eyes, the horrific memories and guilt flooded back to the forefront of the young man's mind like a dam had collapsed.

Still, despite his pounding temples and stern glare he was receiving from his uninvited visitor, the man felt a twinge of happiness threaten his gloom. He suppressed it as best he could and remained stone faced.

The two stood still as flag poles for a few moments without a word, just studying each other's faces. Finally, the young man stepped back and beckoned his guest into the dingy cabin.

"Well, since you came all this way, I guess you can come in," he said stiffly.

"Nice to see you too," she retorted coldly as he closed the door behind them.
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Re: Pokèmon: The Legend of the Sacred Gift

Two: Story Time

"How did you find me?" he demanded. "Does anyone know you're here?"

The girl had his back to him, seemingly gazing deeply into the snapping fire. Her silence and the sight of her now trembling shoulders were far worse than the tongue lashing he was sure she would open with.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, not knowing what else to say. "It's not--"

"Ash Ketchum," the girl said finally and turned to look at him. Her eyes were now glinting with wetness and her voice sounded weak and broken.

This caught him off guard. His expression softened and his anger cooled.

"Misty, I--"

"I always knew you were alive," Misty whispered between soft sobs.

Ash didn't know where to begin. He pondered deeply about what to say as he realized he had taken her by the hand. He led her to a seat in his chair and poured her tea. Ash wasn't used to sniffles and flowing tears from Misty.

Her hair was longer and darker, her face a little wiser and refined, but she was still the same tomboyish Misty that had existed three years ago when Ash had last seen her in Pallet upon returning home from another of his adventures.

"Listen, Misty," said Ash, finally kneeling down beside her. "You gotta believe, I never meant to hurt you. I wanted to tell you... I wanted to tell everyone. I just couldn't. This was the only way."

Misty looked up at him. Ash was sure she'd yell, but she just shook her head sadly.

"You don't know what it's been like back home with them in charge," she said.

The memories once again invaded Ash's mind. He heard sickening screams for help, saw spatters and pools of blood. The sound of terror. He quickly forced himself back.

"I hear things when I sneak into town. I know what it's like, okay?" Ash whispered, trying desperately to tuck away his demons.

"Then what are you doing out here, Ash?!" Misty screamed, jumping up from the chair. "I helped bury you at your funeral! I cried for weeks straight! Now I find out it was all a lie after three years! Why?! Why didn't you tell me?! One day, you're leaving for another one of your journeys, and the next... you're dead? What's going on?!"

Ash was silent. Misty wasn't wrong. He felt like a horrible person, not only for lying to Misty, but to all of his family and friends. Ash imagined being in Misty's shoes now that she knew. How betrayed she must feel. He wanted to pull Misty in and hug her and give her false, comforting promises of some sort of happy ending. He wanted to tell her more lies, but he couldn't.

"It's a long story," was all he could manage.

Misty wiped her eyes and attempted to compose herself as she walked up to Ash.

"I kind of figured it was," she said. "That's why I came. No one back home knows anything. None of this even feels real to me yet. Please. Please just tell me what's going on, Ash."

Misty was suddenly businesslike in her expression. She looked firmly into his eyes as if to impress upon him how desperately she needed answers. And as much as Ash wanted to, he wasn't sure he could bring himself to deny her. Despite having their own lives to tend too during their teenage years, Misty had always been one of Ash's closest friends, never once turning her back on him, and she had endured years of pain without closure because of him these past few years. He owed her this much.

"I don't know where to even start," said Ash finally.

"The beginning is always a good place," she replied. She took a seat on the chair.

Ash shot her an annoyed glance. The fiesty side of Misty had shown itself at last.

She pressed, "Come on, Ash. I know you. I know you're miserable living out here, which means there must be a good reason for it. I know bad things happened. I think I can help if I know the whole story."

Ash raised his eyebrow, but said nothing. He made more tea and threw another log onto the dying fire before finally throwing his hands up.

"Fine," he relented. "But I want to know how you found out I wasn't dead, and I want to know how you found me here."

Ash had been so surprised to see Misty that he was just now letting himself obsess over which of the few people that knew he was alive would have blown his cover and risked everything.

"I'll tell you once I hear your entire story, I promise," Misty replied with a hand over her heart in promise.

Ash wondered what Misty was up to, but he trusted her. He nodded and allowed his mind to release the shackled memories of the past three years.
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Hey Legacy, good to see you back!

I'm going to be honest here, I'm a huge fan of your writing, so I might have come in with too high of expectations. As it is, I'm left feeling a little skeptical. To start, there isn't much. Two short chapters, and I'm not entirely sure why they were split in the first place. And what's your reasoning behind the super-spacing? I guess it looks kind of refreshing, but it's a bit throwing. That's just formatting stuff though and doesn't count as real criticism.

It could be from years of reading terrible anime fanfics, but as soon as I see Ash and Misty and time having passed I stiffen (and not in a good way). It can be done, as I loved TPI during it's all too short tenure, but that doesn't stop the gut reaction. Your writing is as wonderful as ever. Great description and believable dialogue. I'm iffy on the characters though. I feel like the whole "I thought you were dead" thing would be a little more drawn out, particularly from Misty's end. I'm surprised she didn't rage at Ash for a while. Maybe she's already come to terms with the fact he's actually alive, but that can't be because you hint that she wasn't 100% sure until Ash opened the door.

There's not too much more I can say, since this has just started. There certainly is still time for you to blow me out of the water. As I said before, though, you are a spectacular writer and I am well aware of that. I'll keep reviewing as you keep writing (which I sincerely hope you do) and I won't hold anything back. Know that I hold you in incredibly high esteem and expect nothing but the best. No pressure though, I'm just an angry rage nerd on the internet :D

It's great to see you writing again. Welcome home!
Please note: The thread is from 10 years ago.
Please take the age of this thread into consideration in writing your reply. Depending on what exactly you wanted to say, you may want to consider if it would be better to post a new thread instead.
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