Chapter 10 – Deceiving Yesterday
Taloned arms lowered, embracing Solonn as his gaze was held by those grave, reptilian eyes. The former Glalie immediately wanted to be released, to be able to move away from the Dragon rather than being drawn closer to him. But Solonn simply lacked the strength to resist the hold of that grip or that stare, too drained to do much more than shudder in the Latios’s arms as he was lifted from the floor, his fear displayed clearly through his pallor and a continuous stream of voicelessly exhaled protests, mutterings that were wordless save for an occasionally discernible “no”.
Jal’tai held him there against his chest for a long moment, drawing a deep breath as his somber stare continued to weigh down upon the Human’s face. He could barely stand the way Solonn was looking back at him…hopelessness and terror were etched into every line of the former Glalie’s face, an expression befitting cornered prey. It didn’t have to be like this… the Latios lamented silently, it all could have been so much easier… but you just wouldn’t let yourself see the way… and now…
Jal’tai sighed, resigning himself with no small measure of regret to the course of action that he now had to take. He envisioned himself, along with the Human in his arms, in another location, a place that lay hidden below that very tower, and he focused his mind sharply on that image. Then, he cast a tendril of his Psychic power out and projected it into that destination. A fraction of a second later, the Psychic force reeled both him and Solonn in towards it, and with a burst of golden-hued Psychic energy, the two of them Teleported out of the office.
An instant later, the citrine light drained from Solonn’s vision, revealing the scene that had replaced his prior surroundings. The room that he and Jal’tai now occupied was longer than it was wide, and just large enough to allow the rigid-winged Dragon to move about comfortably. It was somewhat dimly lit by a single light mounted overhead, which cast a soft, rose-colored glow over the space.
Solonn saw little more of this place than what could be surveyed over Jal’tai’s shoulder, but what lay there before his eyes, fully encompassing one end of the room, was a fairly incredible sight. On a vast, marble panel mounted into the far wall, an image of a Latias stood out in relief. She was depicted hovering in place, her arms outstretched, with a benevolent smile curving across her semi-avian face. Her feathers were accented with inlaid gold, making her image shine in the warm, gentle lighting. At her feet, a multitude of delicate-looking, fluffy white flowers sat in elaborately carved, earthen pots. They surrounded a tiny, shallow pool, at whose center a small fountain continually flowed, gently churning the water with a soft murmuring.
In a very detached way, Solonn wondered about the enshrined Latias and what sort of a place this could be to contain such a thing. His inability to discern the purpose of this place did nothing to assuage his fear, for it made it even harder to guess just what Jal’tai could have in store for him here. However, he remained sure on the deepest level that whatever awaited him, it would not be good.
He allowed his head to loll backwards over Jal’tai’s arm in order to cast his sights behind him and see what lay at the other end of the room. The inverted picture that reached his eyes was very different from his previous view: no shrines, no flowers, no resplendent portraits. There was only a drab, metal table, unremarkable and featureless save for a series of slots of varying widths that were arranged in symmetrical patterns all the way down the length of its surface.
In contrast to the beautiful and benevolent image of the Latias on the other side of the room, the table looked especially uninviting, enhancing the inauspicious feeling Solonn got from it. He strongly suspected that the table would have something to do with whatever punishment Jal’tai intended for him; just looking at it, he could already begin to feel the suffering that he expected he would soon be facing.
Jal’tai let go of him then, but to Solonn’s brief surprise, he did not fall. At the moment when he should have hit the floor, Solonn saw that the Dragon’s eyes were alight, telling him that Jal’tai’s telekinesis was being employed to keep him up off the ground. The Latios lifted Solonn slightly higher into the air, and then began guiding him backwards – towards that table, Solonn recognized at once. It seemed his suspicion and dread towards the table had been right on the mark.
Solonn felt cold, hard metal against his back as he was laid down on the table, its chill seeping most uncomfortably into his already aching bones at once. His entire body was then locked into rigidity by the Latios’s Psychic force, and his limbs were straightened and positioned between pairs of the slots in the table’s surface. The next second, metal bands suddenly erupted from the slots and shackled his arms, legs, and waist to the table.
Slowly, the Dragon moved forward towards Solonn. The fuchsia light of telekinesis drained from his eyes as he came to levitate directly above his captive – and curiously, a blaze of another kind seemed to awaken in its place, the exact nature of which Solonn feared to guess. However, the phenomenon was gone just as soon as Solonn had noticed it, leaving the Human to wonder if his fear hadn’t caused him to imagine the strange fire that had danced so briefly within those scarlet eyes.
The Latios closed his eyes, taking a long, steadying breath while clasping his talons as if in prayer. “I had dearly hoped that it would not come to this,” he said, his voice somehow very heavy despite being barely more than whispered. “I had hoped you would see things clearly, and understand what must be… I wanted to believe that you would…”
His eyes opened and locked into Solonn’s gaze, exuding weariness and disappointment. “But I knew better, really,” he said, almost inflectionlessly, “even from the very start – hence the need for our little experiment tonight.”
Before Solonn could even begin to guess what Jal’tai was referring to in the mentioning of an “experiment”, the Dragon continued. “The events of this night were the final culmination of this experiment, which was designed to test your willingness to serve our cause. On the night you were Transfigured, I injected a small transmitter under your skin. I instructed Neleng to obliquely allow you to learn the exit code from her, and the police were told to keep an eye on your transmitter’s signal, and to apprehend you and bring you to me if you attempted to leave Convergence.”
An immediate sinking feeling struck deep into Solonn’s chest, while his extremities went numb with shock. “…You set this up?” he questioned hoarsely and with difficulty, still quite breathless, his mouth and throat arid and not quite able to coordinate properly of a sudden. “You…” he paused momentarily, attempting in vain to swallow to relieve his parched throat, “…you let me run away?”
Jal’tai nodded slowly, sorrowfully. “I had to know if you would.”
Pained outrage seized the Human’s features. “Of course I would!” he croaked, his voice badly constrained and cracking painfully. “Of course I would, after what you did to me!”
Solonn looked right into the face of his captor, his bloodshot eyes projecting his anguish very clearly and potently through their steady stream of tears and their unflinching, accusatory stare. That the one ray of hope he’d found since being captured by that Dragon turned out to be nothing more than a cruel illusion was almost too much for him to bear, and it elevated his hatred of Jal’tai further than even Solonn himself thought he could harbor.
Yet somehow, learning that his “escape” had been staged failed to completely surprise him; in Solonn’s mind, it seemed to fit the Dragon’s ideals of total domination perfectly. Solonn was sure that the real main point of Jal’tai’s “experiment” was to demonstrate very clearly that any resistance on Solonn’s part was utterly futile. He would never escape.
Jal’tai uttered a soft, troubled sound as he turned away from Solonn, seeming to have lost the will to look upon his captive’s tormented face any longer. He hovered there in place for several moments on end, seemingly staring at the shining image of the Latias who smiled back at him from across the room. Then, the Dragon lowered his head, and a beat later, he turned back towards Solonn with abnormal haste, as if trying to execute the action before he had a chance to be aware of what he was doing.
Though, in truth, he knew it was useless to even try, Solonn nonetheless struggled in his restraints as Jal’tai drew close once more, the anticipation of imminent suffering having awakened a desperate, primal urge within him to flee from the oncoming threat. Within a breath, Jal’tai was hovering over him once more, and burning brightly within the Dragon’s eyes…
Solonn learned in an instant that he had not imagined the strange light that he had seen within the Latios’s eyes minutes earlier. There it was again, just as before, but now that it remained burning within the Dragon’s eyes rather than extinguishing itself just as soon as it had come, Solonn was able to witness more of its peculiar qualities. As if bewitched, his gaze fixed upon the way that the light in Jal’tai’s eyes pulsed and swirled arrhythmically, constantly shifting its color and intensity in its chaotic dance.
The maelstrom of light and color expanded outward from the Dragon’s eyes in a sudden, fitful burst, first spreading over his downy coat entirely, then proceeding to wash over the entire room. Jal’tai was now only discernible as a vague outline, camouflaged in the psychedelic colors that had consumed everything in sight; were it not for his slight motion in midair as he breathed, Solonn might have easily lost sight of him.
Solonn was stricken with a sudden, sharp pain as the chaotic blaze that surrounded him intensified severely, lancing into his eyes like burning needles. He tried to close them, but something was holding his eyelids open against his will and their own, forcing him to suffer the harsh luminosity that Jal’tai had set upon him.
The dance of the violent colors abruptly and greatly increased in tempo, rushing in every direction around Solonn. In their frenzy, a great and powerful noise arose, a formless, discordant chorus of screeches and roars. The sound of the phenomenon matched the sight of it perfectly: chaotic, and painfully intense to endure. Bizarrely, Solonn found himself seemingly able the next second to taste and smell the chaos as well as to see and hear it; its scent and flavor were extremely sharp and sour, burning his throat as he inhaled it on the air, making him gag and choke.
The phenomenon then assaulted the last of Solonn’s senses, and the instant he began to feel it, he unleashed a cry of an incredibly piercing tone and volume, its forcefulness belying how weak he truly was. Jal’tai’s strange and terrible power seared against Solonn’s skin and struck deep through his nerves in powerful bolts that stabbed intermittently into different parts of him, a dance of Psychic knives diving in and out of his flesh.
With every passing second, the punishment of his every sense grew stronger. He had never known such absolute suffering in his life. Through a mind throttled by the grip of a full sensory overload, Solonn’s sole conscious desire was for an end to this torture. It seemed impossible that he could still be conscious in the face of such overwhelming pain, and yet, he was denied the mercy of oblivion.
The outline of the Dragon above suddenly became much more distinct then, and the change took an immediate and absolute hold of Solonn’s attention despite the ever-escalating chaos that had consumed him.
-Be at peace,- came a telepathic voice that mirrored the Latios’s spoken voice, reaching Solonn as clear as a bell despite the din. Then, all at once, the light, the noise, and all the pain simply ceased.
* * *
A moment passed before Solonn dared to recognize that the bizarre torture to which Jal’tai had been subjecting him had finally ended. Once he did, he became aware, with a shock, of his surroundings – or rather, the lack thereof. He could see nothing, hear nothing, taste nothing, smell nothing, feel nothing… there was simply nothing surrounding him to be perceived. He could not even perceive anything of himself other than his own awareness.
This surreal unbeing considerably resembled that which lay within the confinement of a capture ball, and Solonn began to wonder if he hadn’t been sent into a device of that nature. Perhaps this was part of his punishment… maybe Jal’tai intended to keep him imprisoned within this netherscape, perhaps only letting him out to inflict more of that multisensory torture upon him, until his mind and sense of reality were so severely traumatized and disarrayed that he would accept anything…
In a literal flash, the solitude of his unbeing was broken. A shapeless, luminous body shone like a star within the darkness of the netherscape, impossible light in a world without vision. With the same suddenness with which it had appeared, it condensed into a form, one that Solonn recognized at once.
Jal’tai now hovered there in the emptiness before Solonn, glowing radiantly, a dragon made of pure, white light. Only his eyes did not emit this brilliant glow, appearing as two fathomless, coal-black holes in the otherwise featureless surface of his luminous form.
The Dragon then spoke to him, his voice as vast and all-consuming as the void that surrounded him. No, Solonn. That is not what I have done to you, nor is it what I intend to do.
Solonn was immediately stricken by fear at the sheer immensity of the preternatural voice that had just spoken to him. He acknowledged Jal’tai’s words, but was too overwhelmed by them to respond.
I will not let any further harm come to you, Jal’tai said somberly. I know you’ll never be able to forgive me for all that you’ve suffered to this point… nor would I expect you to, he added. I doubt I’ll ever be able to forgive myself… and if She won’t, either, I would understand…
The glowing form of the Psychic Dragon extended his arms. Solonn felt the Latios’s embrace despite having nothing of himself with which to actually, physically feel anything, just as he had seen and heard Jal’tai amidst the emptiness despite being without eyes and ears.
Your suffering ends here, Jal’tai told him consolingly. I will now ensure that you will struggle no more.
What are you going to do to me? Solonn asked fearfully.
I could tell you, the Dragon replied, but you would not learn.
With that, the black holes that were the Latios’s eyes suddenly filled with light, even brighter than that which comprised the rest of his preternatural form. They gave a single, massive flash, as bright as the void was dark, and Solonn knew no more.
* * *
A gasp rent the air as lungs in a body that had been suspended in stasis for nearly five minutes suddenly reawakened and resumed their duties. Their owner’s head sank and remained low as he took several moments to catch his breath. His spine arched and his talons flexed, reviving his muscles somewhat painfully.
With something of an effort, Jal’tai made himself look upon the face of the Human before him. Solonn stared expressionlessly back at him through blank, dilated eyes that held a faint, silvery glow. The former Glalie was still alive, but suspended in a peculiar state between consciousness and unconsciousness. His psyche was subdued and encapsulated within a Psychic prison, barred from access to his own brain. The Lati race had a name for this state: liasa andielenne. The waking death.
Entering this state was a regrettably unpleasant experience for the subject, but it was crucially necessary for what was to be done next. There was work to be done within this Human’s brain, and said Human could not be present there to witness or interfere with the task at hand.
Still, even with the necessary preparations made, Jal’tai worried for the outcome of this procedure. Major, intrusive Psychic methods, such as the one he was about to employ, bore a significant risk of unwanted, detrimental side effects, especially in non-Psychic brains. Of particular concern to Jal’tai was the fact that they could corrupt or even destroy Psychic anomalies in the brain – anomalies such as The Speech.
Hence, Jal’tai had been severely reluctant to resort to this course of action – it had every bit as much potential to ruin his candidate as it had to secure him, if not more. Nevertheless, the Latios committed himself to this act, feeling that there truly was no better option. It had been by an extraordinary stroke of luck that he had come by Solonn Zgil-Al, this man who possessed the rare and crucial quality needed to take the reins of this city. The odds were overwhelmingly against finding another Speaker anytime soon; Jal’tai knew not how long he had on this Earth to wait, and furthermore knew that he would rest much more easily at night once he could be sure that Convergence’s future was secured.
And so, he was determined to do whatever could be done to keep Solonn as a viable successor. Though this last resort might bring failure to that endeavor, Jal’tai was certain that any chance for success with this candidate would be lost for sure if he didn’t go through with this, for Solonn would almost certainly refuse to cooperate otherwise. Jal’tai needed to be sure that his replacement was loyal to the mission of this city and could be counted on to serve that mission once given his office, and he was thereby willing to take this risk.
It would be all or nothing. Either he would have his successor, dedicated and willing to take the role that destiny had assigned him, or else he would have something which was useless to his cause, casting the future of his beloved project back into an indefinite uncertainty.
Jal’tai cast an imploring glance back over his shoulder towards the gilded image of the Latias on the wall behind. Please watch over him, Rei’eli, he prayed silently to the goddess who smiled at him from the far end of the room. Keep his gift whole.
He turned back towards Solonn, his heart heavy with concern. He placed his taloned hands upon the Human’s head, staring intently into his subject’s empty eyes. His breathing slowed dramatically as his focus deepened, stoking his Psychic element and manifesting it into a vehicle for his consciousness. As it carried him out of his own mind and into that of the Human who lay before him, he dearly hoped that his goddess had heard his prayer.
* * *
Haze enveloped the intruder, hanging still and calm over the surrounding mindscape. It was a thick and very murky medium, one that offered no distinction among its constituent elements and threatened to erase the lines of distinction between itself and any foreignness that entered into its midst, as well – troubles that would be faced by a less skilled and sophisticated invader, anyway.
For Jal’tai, the oppressive haze held no danger of absorbing his consciousness, nor did it obscure his mind’s eye. He could discern the nearly innumerable, individual mental signatures that formed the medium, as well as the intricate ways by which certain among them were connected and associated – a task made all the easier by liasa andielenne; the haze would have been roiling turbulently in an active mind, making it harder to see what lay within it. It also helped matters that this particular mindscape was not unexplored territory.
Jal’tai knew not only how to distinguish these mental signatures, but also what they truly were: memories. This was the history of Solonn Zgil-Al, more complete and detailed than even he himself was aware, recorded through his own eyes.
Among the archives of the former Glalie’s mind were records of particular importance to Jal’tai, records that held the key to this man’s cooperation – answers to the questions of both why it was not yet achieved, and how it could be. These were the records of the past twelve days, beginning with Solonn’s earliest recollection of Jal’tai, that morning they had met west of Lilycove.
Jal’tai focused on his own memories of that morning as he began to sift through the haze, searching for images of that overgrown field and the guise of the Swellow that he had worn there. He was fully aware that these images would certainly appear somewhat different in Solonn’s memory than they did in his own, for there were notable differences between the perception of a Glalie and that of a Latios. Still, Jal’tai reckoned that he’d recognize those memories once he found them, and sure enough, he did.
He had now successfully located Solonn’s memory of departing the field with him and heading off into the forest towards Convergence. Keeping it within his focus, he traced along its connections to other memories, following a backwards route to the moment when Solonn had first encountered him as a Swellow.
Having found the starting point for the chain of memories that were of importance to this operation, he proceeded to anchor a part of his own mind to it. He then began to copy this memory, and all those that followed it, as he allowed them to unfold in chronological order at an incredible speed. Almost as soon as it had begun, the process was finished. In barely more than an instant, Jal’tai had obtained twelve days’ worth of memories, memories that were not his own.
Now the task at hand was to deal with the original copy of this chain of memories, upon which Jal’tai remained tightly focused. There were two options he could apply here: one was to simply erase these memories; the other was to keep them intact but heavily suppressed, locking them away deep within the former Glalie’s subconscious mind.
Erasure was, of course, the more alluring option; an erased memory was completely irretrievable, after all. However, it was also a much more intrusive method than merely sealing the memories. In even conducting this procedure, Jal’tai knew that he was pushing it, endangering the delicate nuances of this unique and unusual mind. Comforting though it would certainly be to know that these memories were gone for good, Jal’tai accepted that for safety’s sake, it would be better not to destroy any of them unless he truly felt it necessary.
In order to judge whether these memories could be trusted to be preserved in the shadows of the former Glalie’s mind or if he should try to remove them without a trace despite the added risk that that method brought, he accessed the copy of the chain of memories that he had absorbed and let the sequence of events play out in his mind, more slowly than when he’d last let them unfold, allowing him to vicariously experience the past twelve days as Solonn had experienced them.
He saw himself, disguised as a bird, leading Solonn through the woods and into Convergence. Through Solonn’s perspective, he bore witness to the former Glalie’s awakening into his first morning as a Human, experiencing Solonn’s fearful disbelief at his new form in a secondhand way. Jal’tai beheld his own revelation of his true form, listened to his own attempts to make Solonn listen to reason, and watched – and felt – the excruciating, telekinetic punishment that he had inflicted upon the Human when his failure to convince Solonn through words had caused him to lose his patience…
…And here, he paused, bringing the playback of Solonn’s memories to a grinding halt. Suddenly confronted with the suffering that his frustration had caused, and made to actually experience the pain and terror he had inflicted…all at once, he found himself overwhelmed by immense guilt and shame.
What in heaven’s name came over me? he wondered, aghast. …By the Goddess… I nearly killed him…
A moment passed before he regained himself enough to continue his Psychic work. Still, he remained somewhat shaken by the reminder of what he had done as he resumed studying the former Glalie’s memories of the recent past, watching as Solonn dragged himself listlessly through his first few days as a Human and then began planning an escape in more recent days, with the chain of memories ending with Solonn’s foiled egress and his subjection to liasa andielenne.
Having reviewed the memories that were to be censored, Jal’tai made the decision to seal them rather than erase them. Realizing just how severely close he had come to losing Solonn as a candidate, he was now especially disinclined to tempt fate any more than he could help. And yet… thoughts of that day when he had lost control and of the pain that that had caused remained close at hand, attending his mind doggedly. Not only was it shameful… but if the Human were to somehow recall it against the odds… it was certain that that would annihilate any trust instilled in the former Glalie.
Jal’tai proceeded to isolate the memory of the past twelve days from the rest of Solonn’s memories. He then set a Psychic lock upon them, and relocated them to the deepest, most obscure and inaccessible layer of the Human’s mind… but not before extracting one particular memory from the chain and annihilating it.
The offending history was now subdued, but Jal’tai’s work was not yet finished. As he departed Solonn’s mindscape to proceed with the next step of the process, he tried to draw some relief and satisfaction from the fact that at least now, Solonn would never recall his brutal punishment at Jal’tai’s hands again… but his efforts were hampered by the knowledge that he could not purge the shameful memory from his own mind likewise.
* * *
With his consciousness having returned to the physical plane, Jal’tai once again beheld the motionless form of the Human before him, who still wore the same blank, emotionless, lifeless expression that he had been wearing ever since entering liasa andielenne.
At least he’s not suffering anymore, the Latios thought wearily as he set himself down on the floor for a short break following the work he had accomplished thus far; the act of sustaining his presence within a foreign mind for extended periods of time was rather taxing, especially at his age. He rested his head in his talons as he prepared to initiate the next task, which was to create a different version of events to replace the twelve days that he had just sealed away from Solonn’s recollection.
Jal’tai still saw promise in Solonn, despite the obstacles that had arisen in trying to get the former Glalie to recognize his potential. Solonn was capable of appreciating the mission of the Convergence Project, and might have thereby accepted his new role under different circumstances; of this, Jal’tai was quite certain. Jal’tai still believed that no other course of action but the one he had taken could have securely yielded success, however; it was the only way to be absolutely sure that Solonn would take the form that becoming the new mayor demanded. What was done was done, and because Solonn had reacted so adversely to the way things were done, he simply needed to be made to believe that things had been done differently.
From what he had gathered by reviewing Solonn’s memories of the days since the two had met, Jal’tai had determined that the main reason why Solonn was refusing to accept his new form and the purpose for which it had been bestowed upon him was that the change had not been his choice. He had also determined a number of other elements which, if removed or added to the circumstances, would help to ensure Solonn’s cooperation, as well as to enable Jal’tai to earn the former Glalie’s trust and escape his resentment.
With all these things in mind, Jal’tai entered a trance, in which he began to fabricate an alternate version of the circumstances surrounding Solonn’s reception of his new identity. If all went well, this rewrite of history would turn the former Glalie into the ready and willing successor that Jal’tai so dearly hoped he would be…
* * *
“Go!” Solonn shouted at the terrified creature who cowered before him, immobilized by her fear – the creature who had almost become his prey. He watched as the Zigzagoon sprinted fearfully away through the tall grass, sickened by himself as he thought of what he had nearly done.
“Well, that certainly was magnanimous of you,” came a bright, jovial voice.
Surprised by the sudden utterance, Solonn turned at once to see whom and what had just spoken. He was met with the sight of a blue-and-grey, feathered Dragon, hovering in midair a short distance in front of him.
The Dragon introduced himself as Jal’tai, a Latios. After Solonn had introduced himself in turn, Jal’tai inquired as to what had brought him to this area, having never seen Solonn around before. Solonn told him of how he had fled from Human abductors in Lilycove, and was just trying to lay low until he could find some means to return to his home across the sea.
Jal’tai offered him a place to stay in a city in the west, where he could be safe and comfortable. Solonn hesitated to take him up on the offer, reluctant to go into another Human city. Jal’tai assured him that the place he had in mind was nothing of the sort. After a few more moments’ consideration, Solonn accepted Jal’tai’s offer and followed him westward through the forest.
Upon arriving at their destination, a place which Jal’tai identified as “Convergence”, Solonn could not help but notice certain familiarities about the city – familiarities which contradicted the Latios’s assurances about it.
“Jal’tai, I thought you said this wasn’t a Human city…”
“Yes, I most certainly did,” the Dragon responded. “And on closer inspection, you might realize that, indeed, just as I stated, this is not a Human city. Here in Convergence, Pokémon and Humans live and work as equals.” He smiled proudly. “I’m the man in charge of this city, you see, and I would not have it any other way around here.”
The lattest of the Dragon’s statements took a moment to fully register in Solonn’s brain. “…Wait, did you say you were in charge here?” he asked incredulously once it clicked.
Jal’tai nodded, still beaming. “Yes, that’s correct,” he confirmed. “I am the mayor of this fine city. Convergence is my pride and joy – a testament to the equality of all races. You see… in the cities owned and ruled exclusively by Humans, Pokémon are second-class citizens – if even that.” His features gave a brief flash of disgust. “But here, Pokémon are afforded the same rights and opportunities as Humans. They may own properties like those the Humans own. They may learn to operate the vehicles invented by Humans if they so wish. Our schools offer them the same education that Humans receive, and training for those who wish to enter occupations that elsewhere may only be held by Humans.
“My hope is that the rest of the Human world will learn from Convergence’s example, that they will see that they can and should live alongside Pokémon in harmony and equality. This community may very well be the starting point for the greatly-needed change in Human-Pokémon relations – perhaps then, Pokémon will be respected by Humans, rather than disregarded, exploited, and abused as we have all too often been in the past. Now, do you see what makes Convergence great?”
Solonn could only nod in response, still quite absorbed in thoughts of what Jal’tai had just told him about the state of relations between Humans and the other peoples of the world. He had not realized that Pokémon were seen as such non-entities in the eyes of Humans.
Jal’tai offered to take him to lunch at a local restaurant then, and he accepted. Along the way, he was shown how the Pokémon citizens of Convergence were able to utilize the technological conveniences invented by Humans to go about their everyday lives, a privilege they would be denied in the Human world, according to Jal’tai.
Once they had reached the restaurant, and had been served their respective meals, Jal’tai spoke further about the schism between Humans and other races.
“As I was saying,” the Latios said as he paused momentarily in his enjoyment of his fish platter, “the way Pokémon are perceived by Humans desperately needs to be changed. Did you know that most Humans do not realize, or else deny, that Pokémon are sentient beings?”
Solonn looked up from the slab of meat that had been served to him, which lay untouched due to the Glalie’s internal conflict with his own sensibilities. “...No,” he responded, sounding quite troubled at this information. “No, I didn’t know that.”
Jal’tai nodded sadly. “It’s true. The majority of Humans regard Pokémon not as people, but as mere animals,” he told Solonn, a distinct touch of vehemence coloring his words and shining in his scarlet eyes.
“Gods… How could they see us that way?” Solonn wondered aloud.
The Dragon sighed sorrowfully. “I have been trying to figure that out myself for many years now, to no avail, I'm afraid. All I know for certain is that they must be made to see the truth if Pokémon are to receive the treatment we deserve from their kind.”
Jal’tai resumed his meal then, leaving Solonn to muse on all that he had just learned. It troubled him to think of how poorly Humans regarded Pokémon. At the same time, however, he thought of Morgan – she hadn’t fit the portrayal Jal’tai had given of Humans as uncaring and disregarding of Pokémon. She had always treated Solonn and the other Pokémon who lived with her with respect instead of as inferiors. If she could respect Pokémon, then perhaps other Humans could learn to do so, as well… maybe, Solonn considered, there was hope for the relations between Humanity and the rest of the world’s peoples.
At length, Solonn finally managed to force himself to take the meat he had been given. Shortly after, he found himself becoming quite tired with an unusual and alarming suddenness, and suspected that the trials of the prior evening were finally taking their toll on him. When he mentioned this to Jal’tai, the Latios told him of a nearby hotel where he could rest, and he brought him there straightaway.
Solonn fell into a profoundly deep sleep just as soon as he was given a suite in which to stay, and he remained asleep until late in the following morning, when he was awakened by a series of loud, shrill beeps, followed by the sound of a mechanized, feminine voice.
“Receiving message,” the voice said coolly.
Solonn only distantly noted those words, not quite absorbing them, as he was still emerging with an effort from his sleep. He was slightly more awake and aware when another voice arose; he recognized it at once as that of Jal’tai.
“Solonn? Are you awake?” the Latios asked.
Stifling a yawn, Solonn rose from the floor and turned towards the source of Jal’tai’s voice, but saw no Dragon. A second later, as his brain finally awakened fully, he spotted the paging device that sat on the nearby table, and remembered being told that he could use it to call Jal’tai – and vice-versa, apparently.
“Yeah, I’m awake,” he answered finally.
“Good, good,” Jal’tai said brightly. “Is it all right if I come and pay you a visit?”
“Hm? Sure, go ahead,” Solonn replied nonchalantly.
“Ah, very well, then,” the Latios responded jovially. “I’ll be right up in a moment.”
“Connection terminated,” came the mechanized voice again, and with another beep, the device shut itself off.
Very shortly thereafter, that same, feminine voice spoke up again, this time to announce the arrival of a visitor. Bright green light blossomed from a tile on the floor near the wall, then faded as Jal’tai materialized within the suite.
“Good morning,” the Latios said amiably. “How are you feeling today?”
“Meh, just fine, I suppose,” Solonn answered. “Still a little tired, but other than that…”
“Hm,” Jal’tai responded, nodding. “Well, I’m glad to hear that you seem to be on the mend. I was quite concerned about you yesterday, you know,” he said, his tone serious. “I feared you wouldn’t even remain conscious through the trip to this hotel. Never in my life have I seen someone drained of energy so suddenly and completely… those Humans in Lilycove must have put you through a most dreadful ordeal, indeed…”
Solonn only made a small, wordless, affirmative noise in response.
“Well, at least you did manage to escape from those scoundrels,” Jal’tai said. “You’ve certainly been spared a most unpleasant fate… Do you have any idea what their motives might have been in taking you, what they might have had in store?”
Solonn hesitated to answer. Yes, he did know why he had been taken – and in the wake of learning such, he was particularly wary of speaking of the very thing that had gotten him into such a situation in the first place.
However, he did wonder how much danger there could actually be in confiding in Jal’tai. It wouldn’t be the first time he had trusted his secret with another – he had deemed Morgan to be safe to confide in, and as he thought about it, he still felt that it had been a sound judgment, even after what had happened the day before. After all, his talents had only gotten him into trouble in Lilycove due to completely external forces stumbling upon his secret, something that might not necessarily have happened under different circumstances.
Morgan had not come across as being untrustworthy, and Solonn was finding himself of the mindset that Jal’tai did not, either. Ever since he had met him, the Latios had been speaking of his disapproval of the unjust treatment and exploitation of Pokémon – he seemed like one of the last people who would ever make Solonn sorry to reveal his abilities to him.
Solonn got the feeling that if he told Jal’tai to keep the secret, he would do so. And since Jal’tai was this city’s leader, perhaps he had authority enough in this place to help ensure that no unscrupulous persons happened upon the secret themselves.
So, feeling fairly secure in doing so, Solonn went ahead and told Jal’tai of the reason why he was targeted for abduction.
“They wanted me…” he began, “because I can do something that, apparently, very few Pokémon can do… I can speak to Humans. In their own language.” He sighed bitterly. “The Humans who tried to take me wanted to show me off because of it, as a freak,” he told Jal’tai, that last word more hissed than spoken.
Jal’tai’s features darkened dramatically as he stared back at Solonn in the wake of the Glalie’s admission. “Sickening,” he hissed, his voice low and ominous. “Absolutely deplorable… what you possess is a gift; you should be honored for it, not exploited…”
Fury radiated almost tangibly from the Dragon as he hovered in place for a moment, his features contorted with clear disgust. At length, he drew a long breath, seemingly trying to calm himself, and released it on a sorrowful sigh. “I’m afraid such troubles come with the territory of the talents you possess,” he said soberly, closing his eyes and folding his hands. “I know it all too well myself…” He met Solonn’s gaze directly, his scarlet eyes staring pointedly into those of the Glalie. “It is true that exceedingly few possess The Speech – the ability to communicate universally. As such, I thought I would likely never find another who shared this ability in common with me.”
Solonn stared speechlessly back at Jal’tai for seconds on end, dumbfounded. Like Jal’tai, he had not been expecting to come across another person who shared his talents. As Jal’tai’s revelation sank fully into his mind, he realized that his assessment of the Dragon’s trustworthiness had been right on the mark. Jal’tai was a kindred spirit – if anyone could be trusted, it was him.
“So, this thing… this Speech, as you called it… it’s gotten you into trouble, too?” Solonn inquired. The Dragon nodded. “Was the trouble with Humans?” Solonn then asked.
“Not exclusively,” Jal’tai answered, “but mostly, yes. Hence the need for a bit of deceptiveness unto the outside world on my part, I’m afraid… observe…”
Solonn gave the Latios his attention, having no idea what to expect from him. As he watched, a strange, shimmering light surrounded the Dragon, blurring and consuming his form until it was completely indistinguishable. The mass of light brightened momentarily, then began to coagulate into shape once more as its brilliance faded.
Once the light was gone completely, Solonn saw that the Dragon that had been in that very spot had apparently gone with it. In the Latios’s place, there now stood an elderly, goateed Human in a brown suit – one whom Solonn recognized at once as being the man pictured on the sign at Whitley’s.
“This is how I appear to the citizens of Convergence, as well as those with whom I do business outside of town,” he said. “To them, I am known as the Human Rolf Whitley – I virtually never work under my true identity. I lament that I must appear to the people as something and someone I am not – it should not have to be this way, but the unfortunate fact is that it is a necessity of my work.
“You see, as a Pokémon who can speak Human languages, Humans may look upon me as a curiosity – a freak, as you so eloquently put it,” Jal’tai explained, his tone infused with clear distaste. “They will not listen to or respect something which they regard in such a demeaning way. However, as a Human who can speak Pokémon language, I am not seen as a freak, but merely gifted. It’s a shameful double-standard, but one which is the reality, I’m afraid.”
With another brief shimmering of light all around him, Jal’tai resumed his draconic form. “So, you see, that guise is the means by which I am able not only to live with my gift in peace, but to also utilize it to do good in this world.” He turned towards Solonn. “You know, this place, this embodiment of all that I believe in… it could not have been made possible were it not for my possession of The Speech,” he then said. “Because this is a community for both Pokémon and Humans, its leader must be able to deal with both equally. Hence, this office demands The Speech, meaning that there are very few who could take care of this city’s needs.”
An unreadable expression suddenly over took the Dragon’s features, but Solonn was given little time to look upon it or to wonder about it before Jal’tai turned away from him. A very long and rather awkward silence followed.
Eventually, Jal’tai turned back, his expression distinctly uneasy. “Solonn…” he began, “I would like to know if…” He faltered, seemingly unable to complete the sentence. “No,” he said in a subdued tone a moment later, “no, I just couldn’t ask such a thing of you…”
Solonn’s brows drew together, the light in his eyes flickering slightly in concern. “…What is it?” he asked tentatively. “What are you talking about?”
Jal’tai only gazed back at him for a time, looking almost guilty. He hesitated momentarily before answering; even once he did respond, his every word emerged with clear reluctance.
“I’m not a young Dragon anymore,” he said quietly. “I won’t be around to take care of this city forever… I love Convergence, Solonn,” he all but whispered. “I worry for its future… I know not what will become of this place without me. Who will watch over this city when I’m gone?”
Solonn did not know how to respond to that at first. Then, he realized just what the Latios was saying. “Are… are you saying you want me to take your place?” he stammered, his eyes wide.
“Well…” the Latios responded with something of a delay, quietly and awkwardly, “as I said, only those who are blessed with The Speech, as you and I are, are qualified to guide and maintain this community. And as I also mentioned, I had not expected I would ever find another such person… I have been fretting over the matter of who could possibly take my office after me… and what might become of Convergence and its mission if no one suitable could be found…”
Quite overwhelmed, Solonn suddenly felt the need to sit down. “…I don’t know what to say…”
“I don’t imagine I would, either, were I in your position,” Jal’tai responded quietly.
“I mean… I understand what you’re worried about, but… are you sure there’s no one else you could ask?” Solonn asked, finding it strangely difficult to get the words out.
“I honestly can’t say for certain,” the Latios answered, “but the odds are very much against it.”
With every passing second, Solonn found himself feeling more cornered by the matter. How the guilt had overtaken him so swiftly, so strongly, and so overwhelmingly, and precisely where it had actually come from, Solonn could not guess, but there it was, very present and undeniable. He understood Jal’tai’s dilemma and was certainly commiserating… but still…
“…I don’t know…” he said guiltily, “…This is not a minor matter – I mean, you’re thinking of putting me in charge of an entire city?” He shook his head in stark bewilderment. “Jal’tai… I don’t know if I have it in me…”
“There’s no need to worry where that is concerned,” Jal’tai said softly. “I assure you that you would be adequately educated and prepared to take up these responsibilities.”
The Latios’s already troubled expression suddenly became even moreso. “Solonn… there is one more thing I need to tell you before you commit yourself one way or another to my offer,” he told the Glalie, his tone grave. “I demonstrated the way that I disguise myself as a Human in order to live and work with The Speech safely. You would have to take on a Human identity, as well, if you were to take my office. But since you are not endowed with the power to project a mirage over yourself, such as the one that makes my disguise possible…well, you would have to come by your disguise by a different means. The only other method by which you could pass for a Human… is to actually become one.”
“…What?” Solonn thought he must surely have misheard the Latios. “You can’t be serious!”
“I am serious, Solonn,” Jal’tai said. “In order to replace me as the mayor of this city, you will have to be physically transformed into a Human.”
“But… how is that even possible?!” Solonn questioned wildly.
“There is an elemental technique that has been practiced by my people for millennia,” Jal’tai explained, “the Transfigure technique, an ancient draconic art which enables the user to change the form of another thing or person. Allow me to demonstrate…”
Jal’tai departed the room momentarily. When he returned, he was carrying a small, decorative pillow in his talons. “Watch carefully,” he instructed Solonn, then set the pillow down upon the floor. He extended his arms, his taloned hands held rigidly over the pillow. Slowly, spheres of cool, mint-green light swelled around his hands; soon after, an aura of the same color surrounded the pillow.
The light began flickering and strobing then; Solonn winced, his eyes narrowing to slits to fend off the flashing light. He kept them open with an effort despite the discomfort, however, determined to see if Jal’tai could actually do what he was claiming to be able to do. With astonishment, he realized that he could see the pillow warping, shifting somewhat jerkily and unevenly into another shape.
With one final flash of green light and one last metamorphic spasm, the pillow was no more. Right before Solonn’s eyes, it had been Transfigured into a plant sitting in an earthen pot, its many leafy tendrils spilling out over the rim.
“And that is how it’s done,” Jal’tai said, sounding somewhat winded, as he picked up the potted plant and examined it briefly. He cast a quick look upward at a particular spot on the ceiling. “This would look rather nice right about there, I think…” he remarked, then set the plant back down and turned back towards Solonn once more.
Solonn, meanwhile, stared dumbstruck at the plant, completely stunned. “Oh, gods…” he breathed. He had risen from the floor without realizing it, and was starting to back away from the plant.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Jal’tai assured him. “If you choose to accept the change, I will do everything in my power to make it as non-traumatic an experience as I can. If you wish, I can render you unconscious during the actual Transfiguration, so that you can be sure not to experience any discomfort. Afterward, I promise that I will help you to become accustomed to your new form. Furthermore…” he inclined his head slightly further towards Solonn, “the change is not permanent. It will wear off after about eight to ten years… perhaps, by that time, such masquerades will no longer be needed in this world.”
Somehow, those reassurances fell short of quite comforting Solonn, and Jal’tai seemed to recognize this. “I know that physical transformation is not something to be taken lightly, but it’s also something with which you have had some prior experience, have you not? I happen to know that yours is an evolved form – perhaps you might try looking at this as just another stage of evolution.”
Jal’tai was right in one sense: This was not the first time that Solonn had been faced with the prospect of transformation. However, he had not accepted his last change with haste; he had only agreed to go through with it once it had truly seemed necessary. And comparing his memory of evolving into a Glalie with the process of Transfiguration that he had just beheld, he was quite certain that they would be two very different experiences.
“This is just… all too much,” Solonn said finally, wearily, as he set himself back down.
“I understand,” Jal’tai said softly. “I would not expect anyone to make such a major decision in any hurry.” He began to glide past Solonn then, towards the wall that bore the keypad and transport tile, but turned back before exiting. “You can stay here as long as you like,” he told Solonn. “And when you come to a decision regarding my proposition… please, do call me and let me know. I won’t force you to decide one way or another… but I do ask that you consider what is at the heart of this matter. This community was born in the name of a better future, one in which the schism between Humanity and all the other peoples of the world is bridged at last. Ask yourself: is this not a future that you desire to see made into a reality?”
Solonn winced inwardly, feeling as though a large weight had just dropped into his stomach. Of course… of course, he wanted to see unity between Humans and Pokémon… but still… what a choice to have to make…
He pried his eyes away from the impossible plant and turned quickly to face Jal’tai and ask him how he was supposed to deal with these conflicting, tumultuous notions – but saw only a flash of green light. The Latios had already gone, leaving him alone with the weight of this decision.
For the rest of the day, Solonn’s mind was set upon by the matter of Jal’tai’s proposal, and it denied him sleep throughout the night. He did agree with the Dragon’s mission, and he could not deny that he truly did want to help. But to become a Human… how could he readily accept something that he could barely believe?
As hour after hour was claimed by thoughts of this conundrum, bringing the morning and then midday, Solonn found himself reckoning this situation by a previous one: that which had surrounded his evolution. He had initially dismissed the comparison, certain of there being a major difference between the two methods of change. As he considered the comparison further, however, he began to see similarities between the two scenarios.
The last time he had been faced with the prospect of taking on a new form, he had ultimately determined that it was the right course of action; it had offered the elemental skill he needed to succeed in his contest performance. Now, with the question of transformation having been raised again, he would once more have to determine if it was the right thing to do under these circumstances.
If he did agree to the change, it would be for the purpose of joining in Jal’tai’s cause. Again, he could not deny that this was a cause with which he agreed. The notion of being made Human was quite daunting… but if he went through with it… then he could aid Jal’tai in his efforts towards fair and equal treatment for Pokémon…
Solonn thought about what he had learned about the way Humans often viewed and treated Pokémon – both from what Jal’tai had told him and from his own experience. He thought about his own abduction by Humans who wanted to profit from his abilities… and they had not been content to merely take him, but the rest of Morgan’s Pokémon, as well, so great was their thoughtless avarice. He thought of his friends, whose condition and whereabouts were still unknown… he thought about Morgan, bereaved of some of her closest friends, shaken and crying on the last evening he had seen her…
If Humans could be made to respect Pokémon… then perhaps scenarios like that one would never happen again.
The Glalie’s eyes drifted towards that paging device, a short distance across the room from where he currently sat. There it was: the answer, it seemed. He had been given an opportunity to do significant good in this world – he had to take it. Even if the knowledge of what it would require did still terrify him.
He felt abnormally heavy as he ascended, as though his body were less than willing to rise from the ground. His heart hammered as he glided across the room, until he found himself looking down upon the simplistic, black device. Once he had recalled how to operate it, he used it to call Jal’tai.
“Yes? What is it, my boy?” came the Dragon’s voice once the connection went through.
“…I’ll do it,” Solonn spat out, before his trepidation could foil him.
Jal’tai did not respond right away, making Solonn worry that he had perhaps been too vague in declaring his acceptance. But then, “All right, then,” the Latios said simply, and the connection was terminated.
In virtually no time, Jal’tai arrived at the suite, entering by way of the transport tile and immediately coming to hover before Solonn.
“I know this was no easy decision for you,” the Dragon said, “but in the end, you have made the right choice.” His beaklike mouth curved into a warm, proud smile. “We and our efforts will go down in history, Solonn. And someday, Pokémon throughout the world will thank you for your selfless actions here.”
They were nice words, but somehow Solonn wasn’t feeling quite so long-sighted at the moment as Jal’tai was. He couldn’t quite look to the future and any praise and appreciation that lay there – he saw only the present and what it was about to bring, and just wanted it to be over and done.
“Do you wish for me to put you under for the transformation?” Jal’tai asked him.
An image of the pillow’s rather spasmodic metamorphosis entered Solonn’s mind, along with an unbidden sense of what that sort of a process might actually feel like, and he shuddered. “Please do,” he responded quickly.
Jal’tai nodded in acknowledgment, then moved forward and placed his talons on top of the Glalie’s head, giving a shuddering jolt at the contact with the Ice-type’s frigid hide. “There will only be a brief discomfort,” he said calmingly. Solonn gazed nervously into the Dragon’s eyes – until his vision, as well as his consciousness, were extinguished in an instant by a sharp shock through his skull and a burst of red light in the back of his eyes.
When Solonn awakened, the scene surrounding him had changed. He knew at once that he was seeing through different eyes, eyes that were much weaker and more limited in their range than those he’d had previously. He shifted slightly, feeling soft surfaces all around him as his limbs stretched languidly – yes, his limbs. It had actually happened; Jal’tai’s technique had worked. Solonn was now a Human.
He lifted his head and saw that he was presently lying in a bed. The sheets that covered him prevented him from seeing most of his new form; he pushed them aside with one of his newly-formed arms in order to have a look at what he had become. He beheld the form of a tall, pale-skinned Human male, dressed only in a simple pair of boxer shorts – the form that was now his own.
A shadow fell over him then; he looked up and to his left and saw Jal’tai there, smiling gently as he hovered in place.
“The Transfiguration was a complete success,” the Dragon said. “Here – have a look at your new face with this,” he suggested, and proffered a small hand mirror.
Solonn took the mirror, and after a moment’s fumbling with it, managed to catch his own reflection in the glass. Looking back at him with something of a stupefied expression was a thin, angular face framed by long, black hair, leveling a bewildered stare at him through deep brown eyes.
“Do you like it?” Jal’tai asked.
Solonn wasn’t quite sure what to make of his new form; he could still scarcely believe that he actually possessed it. He responded to Jal’tai’s question with a noncommittal noise.
“Well, given time, I’m sure you’ll get used to it,” the Latios said as he took the mirror from Solonn. “Come, now,” he beckoned, offering the new Human a talon to help him up. “Allow me to show you around your new home, and to help you begin to grow accustomed to your new form.”
Not knowing what else to do, Solonn took Jal’tai’s hand and allowed himself to be made acquainted with his surroundings, hoping all the while that Jal’tai was right – that he would, in time, become used to this new way of life.
On each of the days that followed, Jal’tai paid Solonn a visit, during which he helped Solonn to learn Human habits. He brought a series of instructional videos that demonstrated the ways of Human life quite well, and gave Solonn extra tutelage on certain points of these lessons. While Solonn definitely found some of the practices of Human beings to be quite strange (particularly where hygiene was concerned), he nonetheless allowed himself to be taught of these habits, and picked up them fairly quickly.
Things carried on fairly smoothly in this manner until the eighth day following Solonn’s Transfiguration. Jal’tai had just departed after giving a brief lecture to supplement a segment on one of the DVDs, explaining the concept of money. Solonn was sitting in the den, reviewing the segment and trying out of semi-boredom to memorize whose portrait was on each denomination of the paper notes, when a sudden, incredibly strong pain awakened in his head, completely without warning.
Solonn shouted in pain and alarm, wondering what on Earth could possibly be causing this spontaneous agony. It worsened with each passing second, making flashing spots explode within his eyes and shooting a bolt of nausea down his throat.
Certain that something was terribly wrong, he tried to call Jal’tai, hoping that the Latios could get help for him. He reached for the paging device – but as he did so, a paroxysm tore through his body with a violent jolt. His outstretched arm flailed wildly, knocking the device to the floor.
He tried to make a move to pick it back up, but had still not quite regained control of his muscles. No sooner had he risen from his chair than he collapsed to the floor – and he did not get back up. The last thing Solonn was aware of was a blurred, sideways view of the paging device lying just inches away, before he blacked out completely.
* * *
Jal’tai emerged from his trance, having constructed and packaged a chain of memories to replace the ones he had quarantined from the rest of Solonn’s mental archives. The Latios allowed himself one more moment’s rest before rising and returning to the table where his subject lay.
Once again, he entered the Human’s mind and immediately sought out the chronological telltales that identified the memory that directly preceded those which he had locked away, showing him where the new memories were to be placed. Very carefully, Jal’tai implanted the chain, made certain its connection to the preceding memories was secure, and then exited the Human’s mind once more.
The procedure was now completed. Anxious anticipation suffused through the Dragon’s nerves as he looked upon Solonn, wondering if the work that had just been done to the former Glalie had secured him as a successor, or if it had sealed his fate as an unviable failure.
This was the moment of truth, Jal’tai knew – he would need to see if his interference with Solonn’s mind had robbed the Human of The Speech. Focusing his Psychic abilities, he stirred Solonn’s consciousness within the confines of liasa andielenne – but did not truly awaken it. The Human shifted slightly in his shackles, turning his still-blank eyes attentively towards Jal’tai. Solonn was now in a hypnotic state, one in which he would respond to stimuli and commands, while being utterly unaware of doing so.
“Solonn,” Jal’tai addressed him. He held up one hand, and pointed two claws towards his own eyes. “What am I pointing at?”
The Human maintained his empty stare at the Latios for a brief moment, then responded inflectionlessly. “Vhekahr’syin sierahs hivhassen.”
Glalie language, Jal’tai noted, unsurprised. Solonn had spoken his own language almost exclusively in all the time that Jal’tai had known him; he was not one to “show off” his linguistic abilities. However, this situation was one that required the former Glalie to do just that.
“Solonn, this time you will answer in my language,” Jal’tai instructed, and indicated his eyes once again. He had never heard Solonn speak the Lati language; the former Glalie had almost certainly never done so. If Solonn could respond in this language, it would be a good indication that his abilities had survived the Psychic procedure. “What am I pointing at?” he repeated.
Like the last time the question was posed, there was a delay in Solonn’s response, but longer than before, making Jal’tai fear that perhaps the Human would not be able to respond as instructed. But then, much to Jal’tai’s immense relief: “Catelisi adiele setali assiria,” Solonn answered.
“Oh… oh, thank the Goddess!” Jal’tai exclaimed almost breathlessly, so overjoyed with relief that he broke into tears. The mnemonic modification was a complete success – Solonn now possessed memories that would allow him to accept his new purpose, and had kept the skills that would allow him to serve it.
Jal’tai released Solonn from the hypnotic state and from liasa andielenne then, allowing the Human to lapse fully into unconsciousness. “Rest well, my boy,” Jal’tai said softly. “You’ve certainly earned it.”
Smiling, Jal’tai then turned towards his shrine to Rei’eli and drifted over to it. Once there, he reached down towards the potted autillia flowers and closed his talons around a pair of them, allowing them to fall apart in his hands. He looked up at the serene visage of his goddess as he held the handfuls of petals that he now clutched over the fountain, an almost rapturous gratitude shining through his features.
Thank you, Jal’tai prayed silently and sincerely. With all my heart, I thank you. With that, he let the soft, almost down-like petals fall from his hands, drifting gently down into the water in a symbolic return of the power that his goddess had so graciously lent him.
* * *
“…which came back negative, thankfully… Oh, look, he’s awake!”
Solonn awoke to the sound of the bright, feminine voice that had just spoken, along with a somewhat blurry view of its owner: standing nearby was a strange, ovoid, pink creature, who was looking at him and smiling with interest sparkling in her tiny black eyes. He also awoke to a splitting headache.
“Oh, good, good!” came another voice, a much more familiar one. “Could you give the two of us a moment, Miss Teresa?”
“Of course,” the pink Pokémon replied amiably, and departed the room, her tail waving behind her as she walked out the door.
Groaning softly, Solonn rubbed his eyes to clear them of their haze, then cast a glance about himself, confused. He found that he was lying in a simple bed in a sterile, white room. He also found that he was not alone; seated at his bedside was an elderly man – Jal’tai in his Human guise, Solonn recognized with a slight delay.
“Good morning,” Jal’tai said warmly. “Or, to be more accurate, good late morning,” he amended with a chuckle. “Feeling all right?”
“Ugh… not really,” Solonn answered groggily. “Gods, my head hurts…”
“Hmm,” Jal’tai responded, sounding concerned. “Well, that’s nothing a little aspirin won’t cure, I’d reckon.”
Solonn cradled his aching head in his hands for a moment, hoping that he would be given some of this “aspirin” as soon as possible. “Where am I?” he then asked.
“You’re in the Haven, Solonn,” Jal’tai told him, “our city’s medical center. I brought you here after I found you unconscious on the floor in your suite. I’ve been so worried about you, my boy,” he said earnestly, concern etched into the deep lines of his aged, presently-Human face. “You were out cold for over two days.”
With some difficulty amidst the pain that wracked his head, Solonn managed to recall the last he’d remembered of being in that suite, that evening when he had been suddenly stricken with a headache that was even worse than the one he was suffering now before passing out. “What on Earth happened to me back there?” he asked. “Gods, it scared me half to death…”
“I’m afraid that what you experienced was a side effect of your Transfiguration,” Jal’tai replied. “That sort of a change can put quite a lot of duress on a body, and sometimes that stress can sneak up on you and hit you all at once – sometimes immediately, sometimes with a bit of a delay, but usually never.”
He sighed. “What you experienced is a rare occurrence, indeed; I had truthfully not expected it would happen. It usually only occurs in the wake of Transfigurations performed by less-than-skilled users… I assure you that I am well-practiced in the art, but I fear that age may have deteriorated my skills somewhat… I sincerely apologize for the suffering this has caused you,” he said somberly, lowering his head.
“Mmm,” Solonn uttered dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. You said you hadn’t expected this to happen.”
Jal’tai gave a small, reserved smile in acknowledgement of the Human’s forgiveness. “You’re too kind,” he said gratefully. “Anyhow… as I mentioned, this is a very rare occurrence, and as such, I don’t expect it will happen again. However, just to be safe, I have enlisted the services of someone who possesses abilities that should help to keep you relaxed and well in both body and mind. Her name is Neleng, and I have made an appointment for her to come and visit you tonight. She can also offer a session any and every night after if you so wish.”
“Okay,” Solonn acknowledged, glad of anything that might prevent him from going through this unpleasant experience again.
Jal’tai stood then – or, more accurately, his Human mirage appeared to stand. “So, then. Do you think you’re up to resuming your education as a Human?”
“Yeah… yeah, I think so,” Solonn answered. “Although I think I’d like to get some of that ‘aspirin’ you were talking about first,” he added.
Jal’tai laughed brightly. “Ah, good,” he said, smiling. “Yes, I think we can safely say that all the unpleasantness is behind you now.”
* * *
Shortly after awakening, Solonn was released from the Haven. He stepped out into the early afternoon under an overcast sky. A light rain was falling, making pattering noises against the wide, burgundy umbrella that Jal’tai had given him. There was an identical umbrella in Jal’tai’s Human mirage-hand, but whether the Dragon was actually holding one or simply projecting an image of one and letting the rain fall on him without a care, Solonn could not tell.
A long, sleek, black car waited in the parking lot in front of the hospital; as Jal’tai and Solonn reached it, a uniformed Human stepped out of the vehicle and opened a door on either side in the back of the car for the two of them. Solonn took a seat within the car, while Jal’tai went around the back of the car and entered from the opposite side (though in actuality, he was only projecting his Human mirage into the vehicle while he hovered above the car outside). The chauffeur closed the doors, then took his seat behind the wheel. Jal’tai’s mirage smiled at Solonn from its place beside him, as the vehicle left the parking lot and set off towards the Serenity Inn.
Solonn stared idly out the window during the ride, watching the urban scenery race past through a veil of autumn rain. As he did so, a most peculiar notion came over his mind: a sense of wondering how he had gotten here, how things had come to be just as they presently were. He was briefly puzzled by it, but then dismissed the momentary confusion as some temporary malfunction of his mental faculties that was probably related to his recent neurological episode and the pain in his head that was only just now beginning to fade. He gave it no further thought, just glad and grateful that his unpleasant ordeal was over, and he serenely allowed the wheels to carry him home.
A/N: The “Glalie language” Solonn used was not Alvayan (the language that Glalie were shown speaking in The Origin of Storms); it was just a native Glalie language, specifically that of the Virc. Although… it does have a relation to Alvayan – but that’s a matter for another time. And yeah, there was no way I was going to go with the whole “language consisting of the species’ name” route there. That’s one of the aspects of Pokémon that has always bugged me, so I was quite happy to take liberties with that.
Next time: A new era will soon begin in the city of Convergence... See you then!