Raven steps away from the group. "I'll be over here," she mutters, her voice barely audible above the symphony of the forest. She veers off the main path, drawn to an area where the trees grow denser, their branches intertwined to form a canopy that blots out most of the light. The air hangs heavy with a primal energy, a blend of raw power and ancient secrets. The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves fills her senses.
This part of the Sanctuary feels different, older, and more… potent. The psychic energy is almost palpable, a tingling sensation that dances across her skin. It resonates with her own abilities, amplifying them, making her feel both invigorated and slightly uneasy. The very ground seems to pulse with a hidden life force.
She walks deeper into the shadows, the silence broken only by the rustling of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig under her boots. As she ventures further, she begins to notice small groups of Pokémon watching her.
First, a cluster of Zubat hangs upside down from the branches of a gnarled tree, their blind eyes seemingly focused on her. They emit soft, high-pitched squeaks, their leathery wings fluttering nervously. Then, a flock of Murkrow perches on a fallen log, their beady eyes glinting in the dim light. They caw softly, their heads cocked as if studying her.
Finally, a small pack of Houndour emerges from the shadows, their fiery eyes burning like embers in the gloom. They circle her cautiously, their low growls rumbling in their chests. She feels a strange connection. These creatures seem drawn to the shadows, to the darkness within her, like kindred spirits. They are not afraid, but curious. They sense something familiar.
A Houndour steps forward, its orange markings glowing faintly in the dim light. It cocks its head, sniffing the air around Raven, then lets out a soft whine. She kneels, extending a hand slowly, palm up. The Houndour hesitates for a moment, then nudges her hand with its snout. Its fur is coarse, almost bristly, and radiates a faint warmth.
"Curious fellow."
A ripple passes through Raven's senses, a jarring discordance in the Sanctuary's otherwise harmonious energy. It feels like a tear in the fabric of reality, a raw wound bleeding emotion into the environment.
Sorrow.
Fear.
And something else. A thread of darkness, cold and sharp, that sends a shiver down her spine. She withdraws her hand, her eyes narrowing. The Houndour steps back, its ears twitching nervously.
"What is that disturbance?" Raven whispers, more to herself than to the Pokémon. The question hangs in the air, unanswered, yet the urgency of the sensation intensifies, demanding attention. She scans the surrounding forest, her empathy stretching outwards, probing for the source of the unrest.
The other Houndour begin to whimper, pressing closer to each other as if seeking comfort. The Murkrow take flight, their caws echoing through the trees. The Zubat retreat deeper into the shadows, their squeaks rising in pitch. The whole forest seems to hold its breath, anticipating something terrible.
Despite her initial desire for solitude, the darkness calls to her, a siren song she cannot ignore. The disturbance is not just a ripple in the Sanctuary's energy; it is a beacon, a plea for help that resonates with the very core of her being. It is a pull that transcends her stoicism, a need to protect the innocent from the shadows that lurk in the corners of the world.
Raven stands, her dark cloak billowing around her.
She has to investigate.
Following the thread of darkness, Raven journeys deeper into the heart of the Sanctuary, the Houndour pack trailing behind her like shadows. She reaches a clearing, where the atmosphere shifts from unease to outright dread.
The area is defined by a circle of wilted flowers and gnarled trees. An unnatural stillness hangs in the air, as if even the wind dares not trespass. In the center of the clearing, a group of Pokémon are huddled together, visibly frightened.
A Chimecho, its bell-shaped body usually resonating with cheerful chimes, trembles silently, its eyes squeezed shut. A Snubbull, typically known for its playful growls, cowers behind the others, whimpering softly. Even a Woobat, accustomed to navigating the darkest caves, clings to the Snubbull, its heart-shaped nose twitching nervously. They avoid eye contact, huddling together for protection. The air crackles with static electricity, a testament to the heightened emotional energy permeating the clearing.
These creatures, all attuned to sound or emotion, are feeling something overwhelming. Raven surveys the scene, her senses heightened. Using her powers, she scans the clearing, probing for the source of their fear. Her astral form flickers momentarily around her.
She sees it then – hovering near the edge of the clearing, half-hidden in the shadows, is a creature unlike any she has encountered before. Its body is a deep midnight blue, fading to smoky shadows around the edges, giving it an ethereal quality. Large, red eyes glow faintly in the dim light, reflecting both curiosity and mischief. Around its neck hang several red, pearl-like ornaments, which seem to pulse with a faint inner light. Spectral energy crackles around it, its body flickering erratically, creating an unsettling visual display.
"Is that a ghost?" Raven whispers, her voice barely audible above the whimpers of the frightened Pokémon. "No, it seems to be a Pokémon of some kind." The spectral energy is different from anything she has encountered. It is wild, uncontrolled, a chaotic storm of raw emotion.
She understands now. The Pokémon are not afraid of being attacked – they are overwhelmed by the raw, uncontrolled emotions radiating from the creature. It is a psychic assault, a wave of sorrow and fear so intense that it threatens to drown them.
The Misdreavus continues to float, unaware of the terror it is causing. The red pearls around its neck glow brighter, and the static electricity in the air intensifies.
As Raven approaches the Misdreavus, the source of the psychic distress becomes clear. The creature isn't intentionally trying to scare anyone. It's not a malevolent spirit feeding on fear, but something far more tragic.
She hears it now – a high-pitched wail, barely audible, that seems to bypass her ears altogether, resonating directly in her mind. It is a sound of pure, unadulterated sorrow, a cry of disorientation that speaks of profound loss and confusion.
The other Pokémon, overwhelmed by the intensity of the wail, are reacting with instinctive fear. Their natural empathic abilities are being overloaded, their emotional equilibrium shattered by the raw, unfiltered pain emanating from the Misdreavus. They have no understanding of the source, no ability to filter or dampen the emotional onslaught.
Raven, however, is different. She has spent her life learning to control and channel her own emotions, to build walls against the darkness that constantly threatens to consume her. She knows how to sift through the noise, to isolate the core of the disturbance.
Raven focuses her senses, delving deeper into the Misdreavus's emotions. The wails of sorrow fade into the background as she hones in on the source of the distress. She sees flashes of fragmented images, swirling patterns of light and shadow, disjointed memories that flicker like dying embers. She feels a deep sense of loneliness, an overwhelming sense of being lost and adrift.
It isn't malice, or even mischief, that drives this Misdreavus. It is pure, unadulterated grief. The Misdreavus is lost and disoriented, desperately searching for something it has lost, an item of some kind. The images flicker, a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes.
"A stone? No, a gem."
Something small, and significant, that has been ripped away, leaving a gaping hole in its very essence. The Misdreavus is not trying to scare anyone; it is simply broadcasting its sorrow, its desperate plea for help, in the only way it knows how.
As Raven understands, the Misdreavus stops wailing, its red eyes widening with a flicker of hope. It turns to Raven, its gaze piercing, yet vulnerable. A soft, questioning cry escapes its lips, a sound that is almost a whisper, a plea for understanding.
"Misss… dreavus?"
"You're lost," Raven says softly, her voice barely audible above the rustling of the leaves. The Houndour at her heels nudge her legs, their eyes glowing with concern. "You're searching for something."
Raven takes a step closer, extending her hand once more, this time without hesitation. "I can help you."
The Misdreavus hesitates for a moment, its body flickering erratically. Then, it floats forward, drawn by the promise of solace, the glimmer of hope in Raven's eyes. It hovers just inches from her outstretched hand, its red eyes searching her face, probing her intentions.
A wave of relief washes over the Misdreavus, a palpable sense of gratitude that resonates in the air. The static electricity dissipates, and the forest breathes a collective sigh of relief. The other Pokémon begin to emerge from their hiding places, their fear replaced by cautious curiosity.
A grin spreads across Raven's face. The shadows within her heart subside. The burden of empathy no longer feels like a curse. For the first time, it feels like a gift.
"Misdreavus." A word of joy escapes its lips. It has found someone that can help her. It nuzzles Raven.
"I can help you, little one."
***
Give power stones to support this book.
Advance chapters in P@T0n Najicablitz.