BadgeQuest

The Big Goodbye

=Part 5=

Revelations

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        "Are you serious?"

        

        Dixie nodded, looking down into her tea as Richie poured himself a 
glass. She heard his seat pull in and out as he sat down, bumping the table and 
causing her reflection to shimmer and shake. "Totally true; you and I have known 
each other since y'all used to pull on my pigtails back in kindergarten."

        

        He chuckled, taking a sip of his tea. "Jeez, it sounds like I might owe 
you some apologies."

        

        "Naw, I got you back plenty of times," she laughed, recalling several 
pranks that she had come out ahead on. "As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I 
still have a picture of you wearing a frilly pink dress around somewhere."

        

        "Wow," he laughed with her, "I'm almost glad that I can't remember." Her 
laughter died immediately. He could almost see the dagger enter her heart, and 
kicked himself mentally. "Sorry. I didn't-"

        

        "S'okay," she grimaced, looking down at her tea again. "It's not like…I 
mean, you're the one with…"

        

        He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "It's funny. I mean, I can't 
miss what I can't remember, right?"

        

        "Even me?"

        

        He kicked himself again, gritting his teeth. He was supposed to be a 
gentleman (at least, that's what everyone else *said* he was), but here he was 
screwing up left and right. Great. "I…" he stammered, wondering if there was a 
way to take words back after the fact. Maybe that should be Professor Oak's next 
project. "Sorry."

        

        She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything like 
that. This is…" Dixie blushed, chastising herself for making him uncomfortable. 
"This is just a little weird."

        

        There was pointed, uncomfortable silence between the two. Richie was the 
first to break it, snapping his fingers. "I just remembered!" he exclaimed, 
jumping to his feet. He began digging through his pocket, suddenly possessed 
with new life. "I found this with the stuff that my doctors managed to gather 
together after my accident."

        

        Dixie leaned forward as he produced a small photograph from his pocket, 
setting it down on the table and sliding it over to her. She took it up by the 
edges and held it up, inspecting it close. At a single glance, she felt her 
entire world spinning out of control, vanishing in an instant and leaving behind 
only herself, Richie, and his mysterious photo.

        

        "See," he pointed to the three people in the picture, "I figure the one 
in the middle is me…" He pointed to the middle of three young teenagers on a 
dirt road. "I didn't know who you were until you e-mailed." He scratched his 
head, indicating the third. "I've been trying to find out she is, but I haven't 
had any luck yet. I thought maybe you could help out."

        

        Sure enough, there was a younger Richie, leaning against a wooden fence 
post in the middle of nowhere with two lovely young girls at either side. 
Dixie's heart sank as the recognized herself in the picture. All three of them 
wore insufferably cute, baby-faced grins, reminding her just how stupid and 
infantile they had been. Her face blanched and fingers shook as memories began 
flooding back to her.

        

        "So, he asked excitedly, ignoring her reaction to the photo. "You know 
who she is, right? Maybe we could all get together, or something."

        

        "Yeah…" Dixie swallowed, "I know who she is."

        

        Richie waited patiently for almost five seconds of complete silence 
before he finally broke. "So? Who is-"

        

        "Karen." Dixie blurted, cutting him off. "Her name…Her name's Karen."

        

        "Karen…" he murmured, looking at the petite brunette in the photo 
thoughtfully. "Huh. I can't imagine what we three used to do together. Do you 
have any-"

        

        "Can…" Dixie interrupted again, pretending to need a refill on her tea. 
"Can we talk about something else?" With quivering hands, she poured herself a 
fresh glass, spilling onto the counter. Cursing, she grabbed a roll of paper 
towels, mopping up the mess.

        

        Something clicked inside Richie's brain. Too bad for him, it had the 
wrong idea. "Oh, I get it!" he grinned at her back, "You're jealous!"

        

        Dixie stiffened, freezing in mid-swipe. The cold tea soaked into her 
hand as it sat in the puddle, slowly dripping down onto the floor. Her mind's 
eye was suddenly filled with Karen's smiling face, her laughter like a thousand 
wedding bells. She felt tears threatening the edges of her vision, but forced 
them back with the swipe of her hand. "You have no idea…" she muttered softly.

        

        "What was that?"

        

        Clearing her throat, she straightened, turning back with fresh tea and a 
plastic smile. "You're a little confused," she said through gritted teeth. "I 
have a boyfriend downstairs."

        

        "That Ash guy, huh?" he glanced back at the doorway, thinking of the 
youthful hero downstairs with Professor Oak. "Huh." he said again. "Never would 
have guessed it."

        

        "Why?" she demanded more defensively than she would have liked.

        

        Sensing that he touched a nerve, he took a step back, waving his hands. 
"Nothing like that!" he sweatdropped, laughing nervously. "He just doesn't seem 
like your type, that's all."

        

        "I'll have you know that we're very much in love," she replied hotly, 
suddenly feeling annoyed. Oddly enough, it brought her a small piece of relief; 
she and Richie had argued all the time back when he was still the man she had 
known. Maybe there was still something left of the old Richie in this new 
version. "We can't see enough of each other!"

        

        "Wow…" Richie mused, "You must be pretty lucky to have someone love you 
that much."

        

        "…yeah." Dixie sighed, keeping her tongue. "I guess I am."

        

        The rest of their time together was spent in silence.

        * * *

        

        "He's the Disciple."

        

        Oak leaned back in his custom-molded rolling chair, critically eyeing 
his lab's intruder. She leaned against one of his more expensive scanning 
machines, absently picking her nails as she spoke of matters of planetary 
consequence as if calmly discussing the weather. Her unexpected and unknown 
entry, as well as her flippant attitude, was beginning to wear on Oak's deep 
well of patience. "Young lady," he said in a tone of warning, "I do not 
appreciate people who enter my facility without my knowledge. I do not 
appreciate your tone, or your attitude. I suggest you start making sense."

        

        "Yeah," Ash affirmed, seated in a reversed chair at Oak's side. However, 
he was far more excited, and at the same time, afraid; Giselle had just told Oak 
what he had hemmed and hawed about for months. With that out of the way, he was 
curious to know what she knew about his own destiny; he, himself, was a little 
sketchy on the details.

        

        Giselle shrugged, tossing her long, black hair back over her shoulder. 
"You're the one with the book, old man." She sniffed, checking her cuticles. 
"You should know even more than the blockhead over here."

        

        "Hey!"

        

        "You are referring," he intoned coldly, "To the Foretelling of Ma'Kala."

        

        "Ten points to the egghead." Giselle pointed to Oak's screen, which 
already held several pages of the mysterious tome's translations. "It's all 
right here."

        

        "And how, pray tell, do you know about any of this?"

        

        With a long, irritated sigh, Giselle began to spin the tale of the 
teens' adventures at Mount Moon; the discovery of the first Demon, the ball, and 
Missingno's flight. Curiously, she left out the monster's brutal assault on 
Richie, but Ash bit his lip and saved his comments for later as the tale wound 
down. "After that," she grimaced, "I chased the son of a gun across the entire 
Island."

        

        "Back up," Ash snapped, scowling at Giselle with naked disgust. "You're 
telling me that you've been tracking Missingno across the entire island this 
whole time?"

        

        "Someone had to." Giselle replied coldly, returning Ash's anger with a 
hard, icy glare. "The one who was supposed to hunt him down took off like a 
little yellow streak."

        

        "Why you little-"

        

        "That. Is. Enough." Oak's voice remained level, raised only to be heard 
above the teens' arguing. His heavy, furrowed brow belied his anger, which he 
kept under careful reign. "Ash, you will remain quiet, or I will ask Pikachu to 
knock you unconscious for the remainder of this conversation. Young lady, I'd 
thank you to get to the point quickly."

        

        With the law laid out, Giselle seemed to exhale her attitude with a 
long, deep sigh. "I tracked him back to Pallet Town. Something's different, 
though; the people he's sucking are getting back up…it doesn't make any sense. 
So I came for some help."

        

        "Fine." Ash rumbled, folding his arms. "You helped. Tell me what you 
know, and where you saw him last, and I'll pick it up from there." He stood up, 
giving her a challenging stare.

        

        Giselle merely scoffed. "You think you can handle Missingno on your 
own?"

        

        "I handled this one!" Ash shot back, yanking a small sphere wrapped in a 
handkerchief out of his pack and slapping it down on the table. "I'll handle 
Missingno t-"

        

        "Is that what I think it is?" Oak murmured, ignoring the two teens. 
Taking great care, he pulled at the corners of the cloth, revealing a black, 
obsidian ball beneath. "Ash, is there really a…"

        

        "Oh my God…" Giselle breathed. "You actually…You really got…" Her eyes 
were as wide as dinner plates as she looked down upon Exile. The dark spirit was 
contained safely in the ball, which glistened against the intermittent flashes 
of lightning. Trembling, her hand inched forward, seeking to touch the ball.

        

        At the last second, Ash's hand darted out, slapping her hand away. 
"Don't touch it," he hissed, quickly wrapping it back up. "Don't ever touch 
them…especially when they're…occupied."

        

        Oak raised a brow. With silent approval from Ash, he picked up the 
cloth-bound ball, turning it over experimentally in his hand. "So then…there 
really is something living inside of here?"

        

        "No." Giselle shook her head, cutting Ash off. "Not living." Her tone 
was frigid and low, so much so that Ash couldn't help but shiver. It was as if 
he were listening to death itself from Giselle's lips as she spoke. 
"These…creatures…feed on the souls of others, because they have none of their 
own. They keep the souls inside of themselves, like batteries." Her eyes were 
hard as she looked back up at Ash. "We're nothing but fodder to these things."

        

        "I see…" Oak rubbed his chin, scratching at the perpetual layer of 
stubble that coated his cleft. "And where does Ash fit in to all of this?"

        

        "He's the Disciple. It's…It's kind of like a chosen warrior for God." 
Giselle seemed to stumble over Oak's latest question. She alternated between 
rubbing her arms and keeping them clamped down on her thighs, and seemed 
preoccupied with her shoes. ""Like a paladin, only he fights for the 
Pokégoddess."

        

        Ash suddenly remembered something that Exile had said. "Giselle, does 
the name 'Ashura' mean anything?"

        

        Surprisingly enough, Oak was the one that spoke up. With a frown, he 
said, "Ashura is the Pokémopolitan god of war. He was supposedly slain during 
the mythological war between Pokémopolis and the Gods by Ma'Kala himself…" His 
eyes grew distant with memory, plumbing into the grand depths of his expansive 
knowledge. "If I recall correctly, he was lover to Ashandra, the goddess of 
Nature-"

        

        "It's all true." Giselle nodded, confirming Oak's fact. "Ashandra 
gathered what remained of Ashura's spirit and began some kind of weird ritual 
tradition." Looking at Ash, she reached up, tapping his face. "Buckwheat here 
has Ashura's crest plastered on his ugly mug."

        

        Ash reached up, rubbing his cheeks. His skin tingled beneath his 
fingertips, where he knew his age-old black Z's rested just beneath his eyes. 
"M-My birthmark?" he murmured. 

        

        It was all too much for him to deal with at once. Giselle, however, took 
no heed to Ash's cerebral overload. "Yeah. Every so often, Ashandra chooses 
someone new, blessing him with the spirit of her dead lover, making him into 
some kind of superhero. He's supposed to bridge the gap between human and 
Pokémon, or something stupid like that. She usually chooses them after they 
prove themselves with some heroic act, or…" she shrugged. Giselle seemed to have 
regained some of her former blasé attitude, leaning back with a flip of her 
hair. "I don't know why, but it looks like she chose this blockhead over me."

        

        Oak regarded her for a moment with a mixture of suspicion and thought. 
"Young lady," he said calmly, "Would you please give myself and Mr. Ketchum a 
moment in private? You'll find several other youngsters upstairs in the lounge. 
We'll be along presently."

        

        Ash felt his innards freeze up as Giselle stalked out of the room. She 
tossed Ash one last, searing look before disappearing through the door. Turning 
back to his mentor, Ash saw Oak give him a quizzical, mysterious look. He could 
already hear Oak berating him for keeping secrets this massive.

        

        "So, Ash…This is quite the pickle we're in, isn't it?"

        

        He opened one eye, only then realizing that he had been visibly 
flinching. Oak was the picture of calm, gazing peacefully at his young friend 
expectantly. "You…you mean you aren't mad?"

        

        "Well," Oak admitted with a shrug, "I would have liked to know ahead of 
time that you were having me keep a potentially dangerous artifact in my lab…but 
that's neither here nor there now." He picked up the Ball without protest from 
Ash, gesturing towards the lockers. "I assume you want me to lock this one up as 
well?"

        

        "Uh…yeah…" Ash stammered. "Um…aren't you going to yell at me, or 
something?"

        

        If anything, Oak seemed amused by the thought. "Ash," he scoffed, "I 
appreciate it when you come to me for advice and help. But I don't expect you to 
tell me everything. Everyone is entitled to their secrets." He even managed a 
laugh, placing Exile's sphere carefully in the sealed container. "Lord knows I 
have a few of my own."

        

        "Like my uncle?"

        

        Professor Oak stiffened, a first in Ash's experience. As perceptive as 
the old man was, he clearly hadn't been expecting that question. He moved 
slowly, closing the safe and locking it with another hiss of air. "So," he said, 
"Your mother told you about Takeshi."

        

        "Takeshi." Ash tasted the name, thinking back to the smiling man in his 
mother's album…His album too, he reminded himself. "Is…Was that his name?"

        

        "Yes." Oak nodded solemnly, retaking his seat. A long sigh parted his 
lips, and for the first time, Ash saw Oak for what he really was; a tired, old 
man. Possessed of great knowledge, keen intellect and a sense of impish 
trickery, no doubt…but an old man nonetheless. "Your father's half-brother."

        

        "Did you know him?"

        

        He nodded. "Oh yes. He and Seth were as thick as thieves, they were." A 
slight tinge of sorrow entered his voice as his eyes turned to the past. "He 
passed away while you were still just a child."

        

        Ash's eye tweaked. "Mom said he died before I was born."

        

        Oak scowled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Oh…yes, of course. You'll 
forgive an old man and his memory." He saw Ash's continued half-glare, and 
added, "And you'll forgive my silence on the matter. It was your mother's wishes 
that you never knew. You've had so much tragedy in your life…" Ash remained 
silent, staring at the floor. Oak took the opportunity, switching gears. "So. 
What will you do now?"

        

        "Now?" Ash felt his anger focusing as he remembered the scene from one 
year ago. He recalled a friend upstairs that suffered for his mistakes. He 
remembered Giselle's words; how dozens of people had fallen to the Pokémon 
demon's ghostly hand. He thought of the creature roaming the wilds of his home 
town. Somewhere, at that exact moment, an entire family could be falling to the 
evil clutches of Missingno. 


        It was time to stop it once and for all.

        "Now we get serious."

=To Be Continued=

The challenge has been answered by The Disciple himself…but is he up to the 
task? Find out next time on Pokémon: BadgeQuest!

Oh, and for those of you who comment on Ash's uncle's name; yes, it was 
deliberate, and yes, you will eventually find out. Of course, I do stress 
eventually. Lord knows it's taken me this long to reveal some of the secrets in 
the series, ne?