Legal Psychobabble Section: I do not own Pokemon or any of the characters or ideas associated with it. Blah blah blah, blah blah blah, etc etc and so on and so forth. If any legal representatives of Nintendo read this, please be assured I will try my hardest not to make any money out of your beloved creations, so in return it would be nice of you to spare my miserable life.

A warning to readers: this is going to be long. Everything I write is always very long. Do not even think about reading this fic unless you have some spare time. Part One alone is ten pages of almost nothing happening! Oh... I shouldn't have told you that. Also, this is my first Pokemon Fan Fiction, so I am well aware that it may be really crappy. However, I do write other stuff and I've been told by at least five people that I'm good, and I am a Pokemon fanatic. Put two and two together... So if you have a spare moment, please read it.

Prologue
"Prophecy's cause will e'er be served, Each will get what he deserved.
History repeats and returns and replies,
The earth and the stars, the sea and the skies.
Legion of earth and legion of sea,
Both shall vie for rule.
Neither will know they are tragedy's tools,
Until the slumbering again are free.
The balance shall shatter and chaos will reign,
The keepers of harmony stand by in disdain.
Stars in the blackness, uncountable eyes
Observe the failure of the skies.
Humanity's arrogance be its doom
When hope is lost and peace entombed.
Eternal conflict of ocean and land,
The skies destroy, their task be damned.
Greatest champions of land and sea
Will battle forever, without reprieve,
Until the two unite or fall;
Destroy them both or not at all.
When the stars bring harmony back,
The two shall halt their great attack."

- initial verse of a prophecy of unknown providence, circa 7600 BC

The dark-haired boy ran towards the boats tied up at the docks, his blue jacket flapping in the gale-force winds. No-one was sure yet what had happened, only that everyone had to leave. He had been separated from his three friends, but he knew that it would be impossible to find them in the vast crowd. A roar of animalistic fury erupted from somewhere behind the stampede. Several people screamed. Every ship on the island of Mossdeep City had been commandeered, but none of the captains or harbourmasters seemed to mind. They were as anxious as the rest of the people to get away. Some particularly desperate men and women were releasing various Water Pokemon and diving into the furious ocean, rather than wait to try and get on the ships. Above the sea off of the other end of the island, two gigantic creatures were fighting. One of them was dull red and armour-plated, slightly like a giant Sandslash, except that it was releasing streams of fire as it roared with rage. The other, which looked almost like a deep-blue whale with wings instead of fins, was firing back blasts of water and letting off noises reminiscent of whalesong, but angry and wild. No one cared much about the two duelling Pokemon, they were just trying to get as far away as possible before the things woke up completely and started releasing their full almighty power. The power told of in legends... the power to reshape landmasses, to mould the shape of the world itself... A few hours later, Mossdeep City was empty. All the people had scrambled onto the departing ships, some of them even cramming into the cargo holds in their desperation. But the two enormous Pokemon remained. Fighting. Always fighting.

Two years later...
The battle was won at last, his opponent's Umbreon defeated by a desperate, massive electrical attack. The circular stadium exploded in cheering. But though all eyes were on him, no one would listen to him, not even the wise old professor who had helped to support him for five years. He was there in the seats, somewhere, applauding with the rest, but his ears were just as deaf as everyone else's. The two great Pokemon, like the unstoppable forces of nature that they were, continued their never-ending battle far away across the sea as they had done for two years now. He was a Champion and Master in title only; his warnings would go unheeded until it was too late. His five friends who shared his grim foresight were standing behind him, a few metres back from the edge of the battlefield, cheering with the rest of the crowd; they were right, now was a time for celebration of victory, not dwelling on failure. An electrical Pokemon with the form of a bright yellow mouse with a jagged tail looked up at him, its adoring gaze encouraging him not to lose hope. Maybe someone would listen... perhaps he had earned that much respect now. But was that just wishful thinking?

Three years later...
Who would have been able to tell that the scene before them happened only two years before the event that some people believed to herald the end of the world? Happiness was the dominant feeling in the large wooden hall, reinforced by the flowers of every colour hung around the walls and the clear light falling through the intricate stained-glass windows. The wedding was watched by only a small group of close friends and relatives sitting on the front rows of the benches filling the building. Two young Pokemon Masters, one in a pure white gown and with long red hair, the other in a black suit and short dark hair, the loves of each other's lives, together at last. Two years of delays were finally lifted. Rings were exchanged, vows were said, but there was no indication, no more vain attempts at a warning, that peace could not last forever.

Two years later...
The two creatures, one red and one blue, drifted over the sea, almost lazily firing titanic blasts of fire and ice at each other. They were totally oblivious to the small port city they were moving towards, but its inhabitants were anything but unaware of them. As they approached, a few stray attacks destroyed the towering lighthouse like boulders hitting a pile of twigs. Panic ensued. But neither one of the Pokemon cared. All that mattered was the fight. The endless fight, the aim of it being to flood the world or parch it. What can stand against the earth and the sea? Only the sky, and the sky was clearly unimpressed by humanity's apathy towards the threat they had known about for seven years. And now they would be called upon to pay for their complacency.

Two years later...
They had ignored his dire warnings, and he had kept trying to help them. When at last, proof came that he was right, he could have sat in an ivory tower in impenetrable smugness, but he kept trying to help them. Now the destruction that could have happened had been averted, for the most part, but did they try to prepare in case it happened again? No. He could stay, keep trying to help them. But he had done that for nine years now. It didn't work. Everything that he could hold a claim to was in his bag. His friend and ally of twelve years was perched securely on his shoulder. A small ship with only a skeleton crew, most of whom weren't even sailors, was waiting by the sea. If no one would listen, he could not help them here. The dark haired young man climbed down the grassy knoll to the beaches at Pallet Town's remains, ready and willing to leave his home behind. For good.

Part 1
Twelve years after the destruction of Hoenn...

Cordelia Ketchum looked up at the night sky above the sheer stone cliff. It was clear tonight, no clouds; just a sea of darkness punctuated by countless points of pure light. Blackthorn City had always been a good place for morbid stargazing, far from the smog of the big industrial cities. Not that there were any really big cities left. The decimation of the continent five years ago had seen to that. A shooting star streaked through the blackness. Cordelia thought for a fleeting second about making a wish, but decided not to bother. She had wished for the same thing on every comet she had seen for the past three years, and it hadn't worked yet. The red and white human-shaped Pokemon meditating next to her was inclined to agree. Her Mr.Mime had been her partner for fourteen years now, five of which had been spent fighting for survival. After such a long time, telepathically communicating simple emotions and ideas was no difficult task for a Psychic Pokemon. Her second ally, a golden serpent with green wings fluttering beside her, had no such power. However, it had been through a lot with Cordelia as well; eight years of partnership. The basic connection between a Pokemon and a truly exceptional trainer was there. But, unlike the vaguely pessimistic Mr.Mime, the lightning Pokemon Quetzelle held a glimmer of hope under its scaly hide. 'Why not make a wish?' it seemed to say. 'It won't do any harm, and it will only take a second.' Cordelia gave in and made her usual wish. Then, she stood up, adjusting the simple light brown dress that reached down just past her knees. Mr.Mime climbed out of its lotus position. Cordelia's third Pokemon was nowhere to be seen, but Clefastral would probably be nearby. It would return if she needed it. Blackthorn City wasn't just some quiet mountain retreat. It was the last really safe place in Johto, and it was her job, her self-inflicted responsibility, to fit as many refugees into the town as possible.

A short way off, another Pokemon trainer, slim and athletic with flowing red hair tied into a ponytail and wearing casual street clothes, was also staring at the landscape, thinking much the same thing as Cordelia had been. However, unlike Cordelia, who had been studying the night sky, Misty preferred to contemplate the stream flowing past nearby to plunge off the cliff and join the river below as it rushed past the thick pine forest. To her, its graceful flow was more soothing than the infinity of the stars and sky could ever be. But, of course, she was biased; when all was said and done, water was her element. Ripples in the water, ripples in the universe. It was all the same to her. Drop something in, and everything changes. She threw a stone into the crystal-clear water and watched the ripples. Was she a large stone, or just a small pebble? Would the ripples she created through the world still matter, ten years later? A hundred?
"Misty?"
"Hmm? Oh... hi." She was momentarily flustered, her sanctuary broken. But at least she was in the company of friends. "What are you doing?" asked Cordelia.
"Watching the river. Yourself?" Her friend crouched down beside her, brushing away a lock of her light brown hair, still obstinately resisting the first few strands of gray beginning to emerge. "Coming to find you. It's time we got back."
"Already?" She stopped herself from pouting. It was a reflex action, one gleaned from spending so long with this woman's son.
"We have responsibilities."
"Fine, fine. I'll help you tuck the refugees into bed. How much do they really need us? Our walls will keep out... well... almost anything. Now that they're inside, what else is there to do?"
"These people have just spent six months traipsing clear across Kanto, Misty. We can at least give them a warm welcome."
"I suppose. Where's this lot from?"
"Lavender. The part of the area that they're from has been taken over by some cult or other."
"Fine, I'll come. Just promise that you won't get any ideas about going to Lavender to sort this out, Cordelia. Its too dangerous."
"I wasn't!"
"I can read you like a book, my dear mother-in-law. Now let's go." She recalled seven Pokemon from where they were playing in the river; a Kingdra, a Politoed, a Corsola, two Starmie, a Golduck and a Seaking, and replaced their Pokeballs next to her Gyarados's ball at her belt. Forget the six-Pokemon-only rule; she might have to defend the city at a moment's notice. "Where are - oh, there they are. Mr.Mime and that bloody snake that thinks it's a bird."
"Misty, can you at least try to go a single day without making snide comments about Quetzelle?"
"Not until it stops shocking me."
"It shocks you because you say all those nasty things about it!"
"Hmph." Misty lapsed into silence. She knew she was beaten, but would never acknowledge it. The fact was that Misty disliked Cordelia's Pokemon for the same reason that Cordelia loved it; its electrical element.

The refugees in Blackthorn City were being housed in a four-storey wooden hall built into the side of one of the mountains encircling the city. It was next to what used to be the Blackthorn City Gym, but was now an imposing stone fortress with turrets, crenellations and ramparts. The only thing it lacked from its mediaeval castle image was a moat and drawbridge. There were several other wooden buildings scattered around the two main ones, forming the city core, and the whole thing was enclosed in two areas of protective mountain terrain, as well as the cliffs Cordelia and Misty had been resting by, and the best walls on the continent guarding the passes. Yes, the new version of Blackthorn was well defended, if not impregnable. At least, it was to a ground assault. Almost any legendary Pokemon of a respectable level had a fair chance of breaking into the citadel, and a Guardian Pokemon would sweep the walls aside with a single attack. Legendary Pokemon are by no means unique, they are simply very rare. However, some of the oldest and strongest of them, termed "Guardians" embodied huge amounts of the power of their element. Everyone remembered a time, about two years before the Cataclysm, when four Guardian Pokemon had been disturbed in their rest. A man named Lawrence; a self-styled Pokemon "Collector", had attempted to capture a Guardian Moltres, Zapdos, and Articuno, in order to draw out the Guardian Lugia of the Orange Archipelago. Of course, this was pure foolishness: first came an unnatural winter peppered with violent electrical storms, then this gave way to a calm, quiet cold. Only a few people know what happened to fix the potential climate disaster, Cordelia and Misty included. The moral of the story was, and still is: don't mess with Guardian Pokemon. Unfortunately, ever since the Cataclysm the Legendary Pokemon, including Guardians, had been attacking humans without provocation and for no apparent reason other than that they happened to be in the way. None of them had passed near Blackthorn City for almost a year now, but vigilance was still the watchword: if something large and powerful got close enough, it would destroy the city.

The interior of the hall was chaos. The latest batch of refugees were as quiet and orderly as they could be expected to be, having just fled halfway across the continent in a desperate bid to escape certain death. In other words; they were as quiet as a nest of Murkrow after a thunderstorm, and as orderly as a gang of angry, rebellious Sandshrew. There were already nearly two thousand people packed into the building, this latest batch constituted two hundred more. Space was running out, to say nothing of food and other supplies. Farming was next to impossible in the mountains of Blackthorn City, so the only practicable means of gathering food was to send teams into the wilderness to pick berries and hunt deer or rabbits. Of course, even the latter of these was difficult: wild Pokemon often got to them first. Professor Oak, head of the Archives, estimated that Blackthorn City was capable of sustaining only a thousand more people on a long-term basis. About that many people arrived in the city every year. But of course, Cordelia, Misty, and Blackthorn's de facto monarch, Claire Draconis, were not the kind of people to turn away the helpless. So, the chaos was accepted. The vast numbers of fleeing men, women and children were gradually funneled into more permanent homes inside the city.

Numerous attempts to take over and cultivate neighboring areas had been made, but the mountains that made farming entirely impracticable were also the best defense Blackthorn had. The idea of trying to exert a permanent military presence on the lowlands near Mahogany Town was like trying to survive a hurricane in a house made of toothpicks. For one thing, the easily irrigated territories between Ice Path and Mahogany were also coveted by the groups of militaristic Pokemon Trainers in the area. In the few years before now, groups of Trainers would form to rampage the countryside, stealing food from villages with farming, hunting or foraging programs of their own. However, recently even the raiders had begun to settle down and start farming. They had realized that they could not continue to live off other villages so close to the bastion of morals and civilization that was Blackthorn City, so they had started their own villages. Wresting their farmland away was difficult; trying to purchase it was even worse because the negotiators were generally shot on sight. The hills towards New Bark Town? They were as bad as the Blackthorn lands, and the roving Trainers showed no signs of settling down into a pastoral lifestyle. The rest of the region was, of course, even worse than this. As has been said, it had been nearly a year since Northeast Johto had been forced to fight off a legendary Pokemon. No one else had their luck. The Orange Islands were long gone. A few of the islands on the edge of the archipelago might still house human cities, but since radio was a thing of the past, it was impossible to tell. Northern Kanto would've gotten off fairly lightly, but it had the continent's highest concentration of raiders and cultists. Southern Kanto was a terrible mess. There were plenty of fair-sized cities in that area, but all of them were under the dictatorship of General Surge, the commander of a large army of Trainers and regular soldiers. Surge was a madman who totally ignored any threats that might exist to his empire, he simply led his army around, taking food and supplies from cities under his power, never bothering to defend against anything that might care to attack his cities. Most of Johto was an utter enigma. It was more heavily forested than Kanto, and it had been over two years since any reliable intelligence had come from anywhere west of Violet City.

Cordelia and Misty entered the hall though one of the side doors, the main door was still clogged with refugees gradually being compressed through and into the main atrium. The side doors opened directly onto the hall proper, where the refugees who had already arrived were camped out in a forest of army cots. Cordelia made her way through the scattered cots, followed closely by Misty, to the doors leading back into the atrium. Once inside the smaller room, they edged around the outside of the crowd to the podium where Claire usually spoke to her 'guests'. Mr.Mime stayed at the door, Quetzelle found a place on Cordelia's shoulder. The Dragon Master was already there, trying to calm the rabble, the blue-black cloak of a Blackthorn Dragon Tamer that matched her short, neat hair clearly visible on the wooden platform. Standing next to her was the Rock Master, Brock Flintman, engaged in a similar occupation. However, two voices against two hundred wasn't really an even match. Misty and Cordelia hurried to the podium.
"There you are!" exclaimed Claire. "My Dragon Tamers have been looking everywhere for you two!"
"And finding nothing," added Brock. "I told you, Claire, that they would come when they were ready. And here they are."
"Not before time! Misty, please calm these people down, they're driving me crazy!"
"Fine, fine." Misty faced the crowd and raised her hand. She concentrated and started to speak an incantation. Finally, she flicked her wrist and blinked once. Her fingertips flashed with a pale indigo light and all the refugees fell silent. Their mouths were still moving, but no sound came out. After a few seconds, everyone realized what was going on and turned to the podium.
"You didn't have to Silence them, Misty."
"It seemed easier."
"Of course it did." Claire turned to the assembled multitude. "People of Lavender, on behalf of the citizens of Blackthorn City, I welcome you to our town..." she kept talking, informing them of the rules and regulations of the city, giving directions, and anything else she thought that they might need to know. Cordelia allowed her mind to wander, since she had heard it all at least fifteen times before. She wondered where her Clefastral might be. Perhaps in the Archives with Professor Oak and Tracey, or in the artisans' workshops. Maybe in the Psychics' Enclave, or even just wandering the hills around the city. Cordelia made something of a specialty of rare Pokemon. Her Mr.Mime, Mimey, was one of the rarer Psychic Pokemon of the world, Quetzelle was uncommon in its native land of southern Mexico and almost unheard of in Kanto, and Clefastral could only evolve from Clefairy by the influence of two elemental stones; first a Moonstone to evolve it to Clefable and then a Sunstone to complete the process. Cordelia was soon snapped out of her daydream by Claire's voice.
"Those of you on this side of the room will go with Cordelia here. Cordelia?" Claire coughed to get the woman's attention.
"Oh! Yes, yes. This way." She climbed down from the podium and led her batch of refugees into the main hall to assign them to cots. This was going to be a very long night.

Finally free from the last of the refugees Claire had assigned to her, Cordelia stepped gratefully into the fresh air outside, followed by Mimey and Quetzelle.
"Clefastral?" There was a flash of blue-white light and the Pokemon appeared next to her. It looked like a Clefable, but was slightly larger and colored black with a few streaks of golden-yellow and points of white. "There you are. Where have you been all evening?"
"Clef! Cleffa!" squeaked the fairy Pokemon in its sing-song voice. Cordelia listened to the words, feeling the thoughts and ideas that came with it.
"The Archives? I haven't spoken to Professor Oak in a while, take me there."
"Cleffa!" Clefastral held up a pointed finger and Teleported itself, Cordelia and her other Pokemon to the Archive building.

The Archives were something of a library, a marble building of modest size near the center of Blackthorn City. The outside walls of the building were covered with mosaics depicting legendary Pokemon and ancient temples devoted to their worship. The front wall was blank marble, but the sturdy pinewood door had various ancient symbols carved into it. Cordelia had no idea what they meant, but Professor Oak might. He was the head of the Archives, an old man of about seventy-five who had to amass every bit of information he could find and store it in a file. He also wrote books and reports about his findings. Of course, this was enough to keep even the most energetic of seventy-year-olds busy all of the time, so he had a staff of four or five other researchers, including Misty's friend Tracey Sketchit who had been Oak's assistant for over thirteen years now. Cordelia appeared outside the building at about ten o' clock, so the Professor was probably asleep, but Tracey and the others, who were considerably younger than seventy-five, had been known to work all night.
When she entered the Archive building and crossed the lobby to the central room, lined with bookshelves, it was clear that Cordelia had been wrong. Professor Oak was indeed awake, his back facing Cordelia, talking animatedly with his researchers sitting in a semicircle of wooden stools. There was someone else with them, a young woman wearing the dull purple robes of a high-ranking Psychic and standing in the middle of the half-circle, who Cordelia would guess was a few years older than Misty. Her eyes were blank, the emotions of her face impossible to read, but Cordelia could tell that they were there, just hidden. She had never met the Psychic Master whom her son had taught to laugh almost fifteen years ago, but she knew that this was Sabrina. She had spoken with many of the lesser psychics and channellers under Sabrina's command in the course of her work, but their leader spent most of her days (and nights) meditating in her chambers in the Enclave. As Cordelia approached, Sabrina's eyes flicked up for a fraction of a second, then returned to the others as if nothing had happened. An imperceptible trace of a smile played across her face. All Psychics were expert at hiding their emotions, but she was so good at it that most people would hardly have noticed a difference from the Sabrina of fifteen years ago - so cut off from the material world that her emotions had been utterly deserted. Professor Oak had changed visibly, however. He still had some of the vibrance of his younger days in his lined face, but his hair was growing whiter by the year and his old lab coat kept getting shabbier. In contrast Tracey, who sat on the stool next to him, was a picture of health. He still wore the red bandana and turquoise shirt of his adventuring days, and still had his Pokeballs ready at his belt. Like Sabrina, he had changed little. Cordelia didn't know the other researchers personally, but they were all the same as usual: nervous and slightly apologetic. They seemed more so than normal, though. Sensing that it was probably a bad time, she turned to leave.
"No, don't go," said Sabrina, her voice betraying far more warmth and feeling than her face, "this concerns all of us." Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle. "Perhaps you more so than others." Professor Oak and Tracey turned and saw Cordelia, smiled, and turned back to Sabrina. The junior researchers just kept staring anxiously at their clipboards and fidgeting with pencils. Cordelia motioned to Mimey and Clefastral, who wandered into the other rooms of the Archives. Quetzelle remained on its trainer's shoulder. She took a chair from a table nearby and sat down at the end of the row.
"Sabrina, perhaps you should start from the beginning, for Cordelia's sake," suggested Tracey.
"Hmm... I dislike repeating myself, particularly concerning what I have seen once and will see once again when what I have foretold comes to pass. However, you are correct. You," she looked at Cordelia, "are the mother of Ash Ketchum, yes?"
"That - yes, yes I am."
"You remember, of course, the part he played in our continued existence two years ago?"
"Yes. Is there a point to -"
"And you remember his role once before, nearly fourteen years ago, in saving our world from destruction at the hands of the birds of fire, ice and lightning?"
"What? How do you -"
"I see everything. The past, the present, and the future. What I must tell you now concerns all three."
"I'm listening."
"The message I bear is... dire. If I could, I would erase all that I have seen in the vain hope that this would prevent it. But as I cannot, and it would not, I will tell you. The Guardian Pokemon we know as Groudon and Kyogre have turned in their path and are returning to Johto."
"The - turned - Johto? Here? What?"
"Yes. A repeat of the Cataclysm."
"This - are you sure?"
"She's right, Cordelia," said Professor Oak. "Sabrina has shown us what she has seen, and I'm not sure how the omens could be clearer. I prefer science to magic any day, but it cannot be denied that the psychics are accurate. It's true."
"If that is so, then yes, this does concern everyone. But why me in particular?"
"You are the mother of Ash Ketchum?" repeated Sabrina.
"I think we've been over this."
"And you are aware of his role in preventing our destruction in the second phase of the Cataclysm?"
"Yes, yes," said Cordelia, starting to get slightly exasperated.
"We need you to find him."
"Excuse me?"
"Find your son. Without his help, we cannot survive."
"I don't think you quite appreciate what you're asking me to do... when Ash left two years ago, he didn't tell anyone where he was going. He went home to Pallet Town, after he didn't come back for a week we decided to check on him, and all that was left was a note. If I remember correctly, he left because no-one had made any effort to prepare for... for what is happening now. After he had warned us for seven years and we refused to listen, this was the final straw. He left in disgust and didn't leave any clues as to where he might have gone."
"Yes. And you must find him."
"Sabrina, do you really think that this is possible?" asked Tracey.
"I cannot speak for Lady Claire or her Electorate, but I am sure that she will give Lady Cordelia all the help she can."
"That's not the point-"
"Enough, Tracey," said Oak. "This is a long shot, but it is our only chance. Sabrina's right - we must try."
"I... I'll think about it," said Cordelia. "I need to sleep on this." She stood up, briefly startling Quetzelle. "Mimey! Clefastral! We're leaving." The Pokemon returned from the other rooms of the library.
"I'll send someone to tell Claire," said Tracey. "Unless Sabrina..."
"I will notify Lady Claire myself. Farewell." Sabrina closed her eyes, and teleported away with a flash of pale blue.

Misty was exceedingly grumpy. It wasn't that she hated the refugees, she just wished that they could sort out their own accommodation. She was impatient and impulsive, not so much as Ash had been but still enough to be driven berserk by spending an hour assigning homeless fugitives to cots. To top it off, she had an itch in just the wrong part of her back and couldn't have reached it had her life depended on it. Her yellow top was slowly beginning to stick to her with sweat, but she hoped that the cool mountain air would fix that. Misty was walking down a street in Blackthorn City, heading for her home in the Academy. She ran the Academy, which was something of a school for promising young Pokemon Trainers. She taught them tactics, empathy, and magic. Sometimes Brock would waft in for a few minutes to help with the more advanced physical Pokemon abilities, and to ogle the older girls. Fifteen years since Misty had met him Brock was still desperate and still started drooling every time he saw a pretty woman. Sometimes it got so bad that she had to leave the room to avoid his gaze. Occasionally, she had almost given in out of sheer pity. But ever since Ash had left, Misty had been completely celibate. She had grown used to Brock looking at her chest instead of her eyes when he talked to her, but it was still slightly disconcerting. A few minutes after leaving the hall, Misty reached the Academy. It was a wide, flat building with a tower at one end; this part of the building was her home. She fished the door key out of the pocket of her jeans and unlocked the side door that opened directly onto the steps up to her room. She climbed the staircase, thinking absentmindedly about her students. Her eighth Pokemon was waiting in her circular room, the tiny Togetic that was her only Pokemon without water abilities. It flew in circuits around the room and came to a halt in front of Misty. The excitable fairy Pokemon immediately started chattering in its high-pitched little voice.
"What? Sabrina? Oh, I'll talk to her in the morning."
"Togi! Togi!"
"Important? Of course it's important, she doesn't associate with us lesser mortals unless it's important."
"Togi-tictic!" Togetic started waving its arms back and forth, the beginnings of its Metronome attack.
"Oh, no you don't." Misty focused, waved her hand and spoke a single word from a forgotten language. Togetic froze on the spot. It didn't fall to the ground, because Togetic didn't need to move their wings to fly, but it couldn't do anything. "That's better. It isn't nice to teleport your mistress when she doesn't want to be teleported. You mind your mother. I will go to see Sabrina, because she undoubtedly has some kind of huge, world changing piece of news for me. But I will see her when I feel like it and I want to have some coffee first. Be good and I might release you from that paralysis spell." Togetic would've sighed, if its jaws hadn't been locked shut. Misty wasn't always this irritable; she got like this whenever a new batch of refugees arrived. That, and... Togetic surreptitiously rolled one eyeball towards the calendar hanging on the wall, mentally subtracting twenty-eight days. It thought for a minute. Yep.

Ten minutes later, Misty was in the kitchen in the ground floor of the Academy. She was sitting at one of the handful of tables scattered around the room. Togetic, freed from her spell, was hovering beside her, an artificial waterfall trickled gently in the corner, the floor had no splinters in it, and most importantly she had a cup of coffee. As she drunk, she gradually began to reconcile herself to the idea of helping innocent fugitives. A few gulps later, she decided that maybe Sabrina wasn't such a bad person after all. She stared at the coffee. It would be best to stop before it turned her into a hippie. Her musings were interrupted by a flash of pale blue.
"Good evening, Lady Misty."
"Enough with the titles already, Sabrina. Pomp and ceremony are all very well, but only in terms of themselves. I'd rather have unspoken respect and true loyalty than a set of fancy titles and an army of turncoats."
"A wise philosophy."
"I do my best. Coffee?"
"Black, thank you." Misty returned to the bench that separated the dining area from the kitchen and poured Sabrina a cup.
"So, you wanted to speak to me?"
"I have grave news."
"Don't you always?"
"I shall refrain from tedious side-stepping around the issue, since I know you to despise this. Groudon and Kyogre are now returning to Johto." Misty stopped abruptly.
"I think I need more coffee."
"Yes, I believe you do." Misty refilled her cup and handed a second one to Sabrina.
"You're sure about this?"
"I am always sure."
"Of course you are. And the plan is...?"
"Find Ash Ketchum."
"I...see. Have you given this plan much thought?"
"I have given it more thought than a normal human mind can possibly conceive."
"Of course you have. And this is the best you can come up with?"
"Yes it is."
"I assume you want me to take part in this mad endeavor?"
"You are his wife."
"Who else have you talked into this? Cordelia?"
"Yes. I have yet to speak with Lady Claire, but I anticipate her allegiance in this affair." Misty sighed.
"Fine. This may be a long shot, but we only survived last time because Ash somehow managed to unite us all so we could fight them properly. Give me a few days; I'll need to organise someone to take care of my students, I'll need to find someone to help Claire administrate the city, and I'll need to prepare for this mission of yours."
"A day. This may be all we can spare. Now, I have business to attend to at the Enclave." She closed her eyes and vanished with a burst of light.

Early the next day, Cordelia went to the citadel to speak with Claire. The sun was rising over the eastern mountains, lighting everything with the glow that can only be found at sunrise. The clouds were indigo in the west and bright orange in the east. The citadel itself was also lit up. No-one was moving in the city, most people were still asleep, but on the battlements and the city walls the night shift watchmen were exchanging places with the day shift. Cordelia sat down against the edge of the fortress to wait until this new version of rush hour had ended. As was her habit, she looked at the sky. Mimey was at her house, possibly asleep, possibly cleaning. Quetzelle was definitely asleep, and Clefastral could be anywhere, as usual. After growing bored with watching the clouds, Cordelia began a meticulous inspection of the ground. Grass didn't grow particularly well in Blackthorn City, nothing did. A short way to the west and south there were plenty of pine trees but you couldn't eat pine trees. Or grass, for that matter, thought Cordelia. At least cattle could eat grass. So could Miltank, if the city should ever be luck enough to get a herd of them. In this region, the ground was usually bare clay. The soil wasn't at all nutritious and only a few small plants could grow, most of them near the river. All of this weighed down on Cordelia's mind as she waited - Blackthorn City could not support the growing refugee population forever on this withered land. Finally, she judged that the morning changeover would be finished and walked around to the postern. She presented an ID card and was allowed inside. The "door" was actually a Golem belonging to Brock. It moved aside to let her through and slotted itself back into place in the doorway. Cordelia wandered through the castle towards Claire's room. She walked up stairs, down stairs, through corridors, never seeming to get anywhere. In fact, the castle was designed that way to confuse intruders. More than once Cordelia had had to use Clefastral to teleport outside after getting hopelessly lost while learning the paths to Claire's chamber. The place itself was at the centre of the fortress. The stone building was shaped like a square donut; there was a hole in the middle. That hole contained the old Blackthorn City Gym where Ash had fought Claire for a Rising Badge thirteen and a half years ago. After ten minutes or so, Cordelia came out into the courtyard. Claire was already there, sitting on a rock and reading.
"Morning, Cordelia."
"Good morning, Claire. Has Sabrina spoken to you yet?"
"Yes, she has. I will give you all the support I can, but my city needs me. You can have food and water, as much as you think you might need. Do you think I should send soldiers?"
"Only a few, if any at all. Misty and I can fight a lot of enemies between us, and she might bring some students from the Academy with her. Also, if I could ask for Brock and Tracey...they knew Ash as well, you see."
"I can probably spare Brock, but you'll need to talk to Professor Oak if you want Tracey. Do you know if Misty will come with you yet?"
"I'm sure she will. I should go and ask them all."
"Don't let me keep you. I'll do whatever I can, but I can't come with you."
"Good. Clefastral? Are you there?" The Pokemon appeared at Cordelia's side.
"Clef! Cleffa!"
"I need to go to the Academy to speak with Misty."
"Clefastral!" It held up a finger and teleported them both to Misty's home.

Misty was already busy. Her students had arrived, as usual. There were about twenty of them, all between ten and seventeen and wearing cobalt blue uniforms. They found Misty working, packing a bag.
"Hi, I'm kinda busy right now, and I won't be here for a few weeks. I've arranged for Professor Elm to come over from the Archives and teach you."
"You're packing a bag?" said one of the trainers.
"Yeah, I have to go on an urgent mission to save the world. Anyone want to come?" They all laughed. "No, I'm serious." The laughter fell silent. When Misty said she was serious, she was serious. "I have to leave tomorrow morning at the latest. I'm sure you all remember the Cataclysm? We're having another one." A few shocked gasps. Misty gave them a moment to digest the news. "Sabrina says that we need to find Ash. This won't be easy, so I need all the help I can get. I'm fairly confident with all of you; you're all talented and strong."
"Well..." A brown haired, slim girl of about sixteen stepped forward. She was wearing a silver necklace and had piercing violet eyes. She was a ghost trainer named Lana. "Maybe I can help. If there's one thing I've learnt, it's that you can't ignore Kyogre and Groudon and hope they'll go away." Heartened by Lana’s move, two other trainers stepped forward. The first, an ice trainer around eighteen years old named Calvin, spoke first.
“I’ll come too. If the fortune-teller’s right about this, you’ll need help.” The third trainer, Morgan, who was a psychic the same age as Lana, didn’t say anything, just taking his lead from Calvin. He didn’t seem like much, but together with Lana and Calvin, he was one of Misty’s top students. All three were exceptional, and each had managed to force a draw with Misty at one point. In her defense, it had been a bad day for her. And out on the road, she wouldn’t have been restricted to just three Pokemon.
"I'm glad you three came forward. Get your things together; we have to leave today. Join me and Cordelia at the South Gate once you're ready. To the rest of you, keep your standards up. You can't slack off because I'm not here. If we can't stop Groudon and Kyogre from coming back, we'll need as many good trainers as we can get." None of the students would have anyway. They would be too scared that Misty would come after retribution. She had pursued Ash for eight years before she managed to 'convince' him to pay her back for the bike he ruined. Of course, he had then turned round and asked her to marry him, so maybe that was different.

Cordelia appeared in Misty's room with a pulse of light, Clefastral in tow. The water Master was still cramming spellbooks and faintly glowing wands into her overfull bag.
"I take it this means you're coming?"
"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world!"
"Which, coincidentally, is what we're trying to save. Do your students know about this yet?"
"I was just with them. Calvin, Lana and Morgan are coming with us."
"Your star pupils, right? Ice, Ghost and Psychic trainers?"
"That's them. They've gone home to get their things together."
"Their parents won't mind?"
"Morgan's parents are dead. We don't know about Calvin's or Lana's."
"Ah. Where do we meet?"
"I told them to come to the South Gate. What can Claire give us?"
"She said we get as much of the supplies as she can spare, plus Brock and Tracey."
"A regular family picnic. Where were you thinking of going?"
"Where?"
"Well, Ash won't be coming to us. In fact, if he finds out he'll be staying as far away from us as he can. Remember why he left. And of course, he'll think I want revenge."
"Do you?"
"You'll just have to wait and see." Cordelia crossed the room to where Togetic was hovering and petted it.
"I don't think you do. You never really got over Ash, did you?"
"What do you mean 'got over'? Of course I did."
"You're still celibate, aren't you?"
"So? Lots of women are after their husbands die... or otherwise leave them."
"Not women who've 'got over' it." Misty said nothing. "Never mind. I'll drop it."
"I'd appreciate it. Don't you have anything to take with you?"
"Not really."
"Go and tell Claire where to drop off our supplies, as well as how many horses we'll need."
"You read my mind. Clefastral, take us back to Claire."

Later that day, seven horses and a heap of food and blankets were delivered to the portcullis of the huge granite South Gate on the edge of the town. The Blackthorn guards were wearing their dark blue ceremonial uniforms and Cordelia (her Pokemon were in her Pokeballs for now), Brock and Claire were waiting for the rest of the party.
"So..." said Brock. "Where do we start?"
"I've been thinking about that; Misty mentioned it to me this morning. How does Pallet Town sound?"
"You're thinking Ash might have left more clues than we thought he did? It makes sense. He left Kanto because he felt we weren't making enough effort to prepare for another Cataclysm. He might have left some kind of clue, hidden so we'd only find it if we tried hard enough. A hint for the determined."
"If we find nothing there... I don't know."
"The cities in South Kanto. Gossip gets around quickly there, and even if there aren't any helpful rumors, we can always catch a ship somewhere else. Assuming the ports haven't been overrun by bandits or pirates."
"It's a plan."
Tracey arrived soon after, now in his full scout's uniform, a shortsword dangling at his side. He immediately began sorting the supplies. When he had almost finished, Misty and her students reached the gate, Misty in her usual jeans and yellow t-shirt, the others wearing their Academy uniforms. The young girl was carrying a nasty-looking weapon that seemed to be a cross between a staff and a very heavy hammer, while the older of the two boys wore a pair of swords. The young Psychic had no weapon at all.
"Everyone's ready?" asked Misty. Everyone gave an affirmative answer.
"Take a bundle of food each," said Tracey, who had finished dividing Claire's farewell gifts. "Shall we move?"
"Wait, wait!" said Claire. "I have to do this, ritual and everything, you know." She stood in front of the portcullis. "In the name of Blackthorn City, I bid you good luck in your quest. May your fortunes be great, and your destinies greater. It's part of my job to say that. A bit boring, but very... er... traditional." Claire signaled the guards, who began pulling the chain to open the gate. The iron bars slowly slid upwards. The adventurers all took up their baggage, said goodbye to Claire, and walked out through Blackthorn's South Gate into the forested hills beyond.

In the next installment...

Prophecy's cause will e'er be served,
Each will get what he deserved.

The wolf of the shadows hides in his lair,
The face of an ally shall be stripped bare.
A mask can conceal the eyes of a foe,
But when the mask falls, his will can be known.
Powers of old give strength to the new,
Deceived be many whose spirits be true.

So, there you go. Who liked it? Who hated it? Who fell asleep? (I'm guessing about 85% of you, but I could be wrong) Who else here likes Grass Pokemon? Most importantly, who would like to read Part Two? (I just need a few weeks to write it, give me time) If anyone is interested in answering any of these questions, I can be contacted at budgiehayward@hotmail.com. P.S. The prophecy at the beginning has two parts. I've kept