I do hope my inspiration does not desert me

Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*

Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks

Chapter 2

The foolish woman did not even know what she had held…

Lance’s lips twitched up in the slightest hint of a smile as he looked at the beads. There were twenty-four of them, more than enough for his devices.

He could feel the other dragons nearing now, intrigued. Dragonite and a second Dragonair, Aerodactyl and Gyarados… four of the holding devices lit up as they gained new occupants.

Did those fools truly not know the value of what they had?

A voice whispered in his ears. He raised an eyebrow, feeling the Dragon Blade hum. It seemed to be leading him down an alleyway. Well, stranger things had happened.

He followed, and his breath caught as he saw the child. There was something about him, almost a tangible aura, and yet, this child bore no mark of priestess, or of magician, nor even the dragon-blood of a mage…

What was it?

Large brown eyes, blurry with tears, met his. Deep inside his mind, the spirit of the dragon purred. Lance frowned.

So this child was no mere child, despite his ordinary appearance. Perhaps he was another Prince cast out to wander the wilds.

It was not a wholly uncommon occurrence, especially in large families.

Upon catching sight of him, the child actually looked relieved. That was not a good sign. Lance felt magic swell in his gloved fingertips as he extended a hand.

The child took it.

Ash gasped as he felt something – he wasn’t sure what – sing around them. It felt like wind and water, lightning and a touch of laughter, but the prevalent force was warm and bright and powerful.

…Fire?

For a split second, scenes flashed before his eyes. The clash of steel on sharp bone, a majestic waterfall, a crying woman, a priestess in red… and a palace of black marble with a prevalent stink of malice.

He snapped out of it as the man looked at him oddly.

“Are you well?”

“I-I think so.” He stuttered. * What was that? *

“Excellent. Well then, I suppose I had best pay a visit to the Temple of Moltres…” And it was only then that Ash realized they were elsewhere.

Had he just experienced the mystery of Wild Magic?

Amazing.

He followed the man, still not sure what to call him, to the Temple. The steps were white marble, but inside, the floor was polished glass, reflecting intense flames bubbling up underneath. He gave an involuntary gasp of surprise and almost tripped on the slippery surface.

He did not fall.

The man who had caught him gave him a disparaging smile. “A new visitor, I see. And you, sir?”

“Tell the Priestess that the Dragon Rider has come. She will understand my meaning. And this is for the trouble.”

A large hand stuffed the gold coins in his shirt greedily, made an obsequious bow, and scurried off. It reminded Ash of a rat.

“Um… sir?”

He swallowed as the man turned around. His eyes! They were golden!

“Yes, what is it, child?”

“What-What shall I call you?”

“You can call me Lance.” There was a shuffle of footsteps as a woman appeared. Ash stifled a gasp. She looked… he could have sworn he had seen her before, but where?

She bowed, the golden bells on her girdle tinkling.

“So the Child of Ice calls. How may I be of service?”

“Drop the titles, Charlotte. I suppose you’ve already heard about Rochelle’s death. News always did travel quickly.”

“Yes. But then again, she was quite old… death that was swift was for her a mercy. She was wasting away from the Ravager’s disease, after all.”

“Indeed. She however, before her death.”

“Let me hypothesize, then. Did she mention a prophecy?”

Lance nodded.

Charlotte held out her hands. Lance placed his own hands over hers. Ash watched all of this, wondering what was going on.

A wind began to blow, and he was startled to realize that the Priestess had just caught fire! Sure she was a Priestess of Moltres, but even so… it scared him!

He edged away.

Lance could feel the flames roaring through their hands. He gritted his teeth and hoped that it didn’t burn his magic away.

He heard an amused chuckle in his mind.

< Moltres-sama? >

< Yes, tis I, Lugia’s child. >

< What knowledge are you bringing us? >

< Patience, child, it takes a few moments before I can fully manifest… >

Lance resisted the urge to smirk. A few moments later, he was quite sure he was facing Moltres, or as close as she could be.

Charlotte’s eyes were pure gold, and she was wreathed in flame, dancing over her body. She clasped her hands together and began to speak.

< You wished to know of the Prophecy Rochelle made you. >

< I wish to know how true it is. >

< Tis false, much of it. >

< I thought as much. >

< But portions of it are true. This child you have brought here is no ordinary child. >

< Does he have the Gift, of some sort? >

Charlotte – Moltres smiled. < My gift is in prophecy. Yours lies in combat. But he has a precious gift, that if falls into the wrong hands, brings disaster. >

< Then what is it? > Lance mentally flicked through the Gifts he knew of. Song? Companionship? Healing? Tongues?

Perhaps it was something subtler. Herblore? Dream-walking? Dream walking was almost like Prophecy, though, and the boy didn’t seem like the type. Empathy?

< Creation. > Charlotte said grimly.

Lance’s eyes widened. Dear Lugia. No wonder even a no-talent fake like Rochelle had felt it!

< So until his power wakes fully, we have to control it? >

< Yes. >

End Chapter

Completed 5/12/06

Boy am I glad that the Biology Final’s over! *Dies* Of course, I still have Organic Chemistry *choke* and ESPM…