❝ I will be brave

knowing that

you 

(will be)

beside me.

That is why I choose death. ❞

Darkrai

"We will have to leave now, you know."

Arceus' voice seemed too annoying for some reason—maybe it was just the fact that I had been rattled and plagued by some rather unnecessary memories the night before—but I didn't want to listen to my partner right then.

Still, the Creator had a point—one that I believed in—one that I wanted to believe in. Was it the unnerving feeling rising in my heart that had made me join him in the first place? An urge that told me that Cresselia needed to be defeated no matter what?

"You both were created by me when I was still ignorant and weak." My ally's voice snapped me back to reality, and I looked up to see the Pokemon staring at me with a tired, regretful gaze. "I guess that is why that my earlier creations were not able to be created to who I would have liked them to be."

"What do you mean?" I asked in reply, and my eyes narrowed as I realised that he was already far ahead of me—and I melted into and re-emerged from the very tip of his shadow so I could be beside him once again. "Are you labelling us as failures?

The creature was quick to respond, and he trained his gaze on me—and the ruby of his eyes seemed to burn through my very soul.

"Of course not," he defended, although he kept his tone as calm and impassive as ever. "I am just stating that you and your sister were meant to be...different. Cresselia was supposed to be kind, yes, but not so naive; and you were supposed to be—"

I didn't want to hear the rest of it—after all, I knew enough from the idle gossip that humankind thought I wouldn't noticed Fools, I had labelled them, they are all fools for thinking that an omnipotent deity like me will not hear these words that smite my prescence.

"Anyway, it is only right if you push part of the blame to me," Arceus continued—I'd missed part of what he said, and I have reason to care about it at all. "Although that is true, both of us have to admit that Fate is a cruel master. Perhaps I do agree with Cresselia's reasoning—perhaps deep down, I would like to see her happy, but Fate has given me orders to try and stop them."

At the faltering tone of his last few words, I halted, prompting my partner to come to a slow stop in front of me and look back with an inquisitive glance. "Try?" I asked, my voice incredulous as I stared at him. "Does that mean the outcome of this battle is not already decided?"

He tilted his head, pondering on how to respond to that. "Cresselia and Jirachi's wills are not something that Fate cannot control this time," he replied, and he spoke in such a quiet voice that I could barely hear him. "Fate has left this ambiguous, and I am not sure if our collective power can stop them."

I scoffed. "It is always 'Fate this' and 'Fate that'," I commented, shaking my head and letting out a deep, drawn-out sigh. "As I said before—in the end, you are just a god in name, are you not? In reality, you are just a puppet to whoever or whatever Fate is. It is...kind of sad. Legendaries are not known to lead good lives—especially ones like Yveltal or me—but even so, I feel sorry for you."

"...Thank you for you concern," the Lord spoke. "And I am sorry for this quality of life I have given you—but if feels that you have changed for the better recently."

"Have I now?" I glanced up at the sky—the prettiest shade of blue the artificial illusion could ever come close to—and a rare smile played beneath the crimson growth that hung around my neck; one that wasn't a sadistic smirk but an actual display of satisfaction. "I think I have."

And, satisfied with that conclusion, the both of us departed from Heaven—we had a much more serious matter to take care of.

༺༻

Cresselia

"So Darkrai has given you a warning that he will arrive with Arceus soon," Jirachi hissed. Her two yellow streamers billowed out behind her, and her dark eyes were filled with worry. "It would be best if we had attempted this in Forina, but now we have no choice. We will carry this out here."

Meloetta followed, glancing at her friend with a worried gaze—it was quite obvious that she was doubtful of the entire situation. "We will just have to pray that Jira can do it, then." A sigh escaped her mouth. "If not, then all this might go to waste, y'know?"

The wish-granter shot a cool glare at the Melody Pokemon—and she was only met with a playful smirk in response. "Would it kill you to be a realist once?" Jirachi let out a sigh. "If this does not work, then our chances are quite possibly zero. You should know that."

"Who knows?" She stuck her tongue out, and the Unova-born Pokemon rose above us with an intensity in her eyes—one that frightened me despite the difference in size. "Anything could happen at any moment. For example—"

She stopped, as if having noticed something that the both of us hadn't—and twisted around, calling out into what seemed like empty space.

"Arceus, Darkrai," she greeted, azure irises blinking as she lowered herself to the ground as a form of respect. "It is good to see you. I have set the stage for your final battle as you have requested me to do. I take it that my orders are done?"

I didn't know if Jirachi had a similar reaction, but I hadn't been expecting my words—because Meloetta had been the one planning the wish, down to the exact date and time and the fact that we would take a break at Fullmoon Island before proceeding to Forina—what in the Distortion World was going on?

The Lord had made his appearance, having faded into reality from what seemed like nowhere—and my brother accompanied him, his entrance jarring from all the times he had emerged from puddles of darkness.

"You did well, Meloetta—and I hope that you did not actually get attached to your 'friends' during your job." Arceus' voice was calm, as if he'd been the one to plan the Melody Pokemon's betrayal, and his gaze flickered to meet the bright blue optics that the creature possessed.

"Do you want me to—"

"Yes, I would suppose I could say that—but Cresselia and Jirachi are unpredictable, and their wills are interesting. If they are persistent enough, they might even win against weak-minded individuals like me and Darkrai." He ignored the scowl from his partner and took a few steps towards the Pokemon. "Therefore, it would be a great help if you decided to participate."

Meloetta closed the gap between them, and her usual wide smile was present—though, it chilled me to the bone this time. What had that smile ever contained? What had she used—no, who had she used this mask and her hypnotising voice on?

"What a pity. Participate, you say?" A small laugh sounded, and that once innocuous smile twisted into a grin that seemed to resemble a malicious smirk. "That is good. However, you have neglected to tell me which side to take—did you really not consider the chance of what humans call a 'double agent', Arceus?"

She then stepped forward, a sphere of energy already forming in her hands—and she flung it at whom she now labelled her opponent.

"You may have created me for my singing and my voice, but do not underestimate my intelligence," the creature warned, the Dazzling Gleam dropping from her hands and littering the island with an unnecessary, blinding light. "You wanted me to bring them here so that they could not go to Forina, but you have forgotten that the opposite can certainly apply."

When the light cleared, both the Legendaries across us were still standing—Darkrai had defended at the last second, and the shadowy shield had barely managing to create a proficient barrier around the two of them—but Arceus, despite his attempt to keep his stoic facade up, hadn't known about the betrayal.

Meloetta glanced down at the both of us. "Hey, Jira." Her voice was quiet—something unusual—but the serious note in her tone forced the both of us to listen to her. "I believed in what you said from the very start, so get going already. I'll hold them off as long as I can."

I just stared—we weren't going to leave her behind; weren't going to leave behind someone who had done us so many favours and whose life was now at risk, right?

Jirachi, however, contemplated her friend's moments for a few seconds, and I could see the silent telepathy travelling between them—and it hurt that they were shutting me out of this conversation—but the wish-granted then nodded, rising into the air once again and beckoning at me to join her.

"Come on," she urged. "We have to go."

༺༻

"...I know you are worried about Meloetta. I know you are guilty, but nothing can be done now." Jirachi didn't even bother to glance back at me as we flew—it was now night and I could feel a lazy breeze running across my body like a tender stream of water—and it cooled both my physical self and my frazzled mind.

"Do you want to know what we had been talking about?" The creature raised an eyebrow—and without even waiting for me to respond, she'd already continued. "Meloetta really believes in us, you know. She's willing to play a supporting role—and she says that it is what she is best at."

I hung my head—Jirachi wasn't finished with her speech; I had heard the staccato-like note that had lingered in her voice.

"Meloetta cannot manipulate what they think," she stated, shrugging while increasing her pace and shooting forward in the air to match my speed. "Arceus did not grant her that sort of gift. Meloetta can, however, draw out and unearth the emotions in others—even ones that have been buried under layers and layers of lies."

"I think that is why she pretended to work for Arceus," Jirachi finished. "It was because she could sense that he did not believe in what she was doing. And in this battle...Meloetta knows that she can at least slow them down; she can make them rethink their actions."

She made a noncommittal noise, and I stretched my neck upwards once again, expecting to see sky—but met with the sight of towering, shaggy mountains and a beautiful mess of greenery and flowers that somehow came together even more brilliantly in the darkness.

We'd arrived in Forina; both of us knew that, and I could see the last bit of stress and stray worry fade away from my ally's shoulders as she landed—and the last sentence escaped her pursed lips.

"That's why I think we should have a little faith in Meloetta too, just like she believed in us."

I wanted to agree; wanted to tell Jirachi that she was right, but the dual-typed Pokemon wouldn't listen to me—instead, she rushed forward, her mind set on the destination ahead of her. "Let us not make her sacrifice go to waste," she urged. "Let us finish this as quickly as we can—and this way, both you and Darkrai can be happy. All of us will be contented."

...Darkrai? I wanted to ask, but it took me a few moments to remember who he was—and I threw myself a silent curse because I'd forgotten once again. Nodding, I followed her—we didn't have the luxury of taking our time—and we reached the cavern in a letter of seconds.

"What a relief," I heard Jirachi exhale, and was confused for a split-second—before I realised that she'd been gesturing at the ancient writing that sprawled out in front of us, glittering with a bright blue in the exact same way I'd remembered it to be the last time I'd visited—when had that been? "It is still here. I will proceed at once."

The flap of skin over her third eye rippled—and it lifted, revealing the bright turquoise eye that stared into the dusty nothingness as she made her way over to the back of the cave—and she got into position, making sure that it was as close to the exact same stance that she'd been in the previous time.

Her mouth opened, and the voice that came out didn't exactly sound the same—instead, this one was much more in control; much more powerful and eloquent and sure of herself.

"Crescent moons shine and fade at dawn," she started, and a cerulean orb emerged from the eye's iris and floated until it was next to her, the shine beautiful and almost glaring amidst the dim hues of the night. "Sunlight dancing on its ebony flames."

"Estranged togetherness for far too long, and a line must be drawn between their names." The process was speeding up now, and the creaminess of the yellow sphere was a great contrast to the Espeon and Umbreon's blue.

"Red-hot blazes slowly destroy, and the dulls of waves are unable to quell—everyone strives for the heroes' allure, But we may all fall to darkness's comforting lull." Jirachi was slowing down now—were there tears streaming down her face as she read?—but she still managed to recount the poem at a steady pace.

"An angel paths the way of hope and light, but despair clouds the vision of those wishing true." She paused for a long while—that was where we had stopped. All five orbs were gathered around her. So why wasn't the wish coming true?

I wanted to speak—but Jirachi continued once again—and it was then that I noticed that there was a gap missing in the circle that surrounded her. It was then that I noticed that there had been something left behind in the gaps of my memory that the prophecy hadn't contained.

"But there's still one more, this world burns bright

Standing strong in the face of desolate rue.

This is not something to cloud

With the darkening sky of grey-black hate

Sing this song of love, clear and loud

And rise and fall to face your chosen fate."

Jirachi glanced at me. "I did not tell you about the sixth rule," she muttered. "I did not tell you about the rule that you had to fulfil instead of destroy—and that is because I believed you had it all along. I still believe you possess it—because that is love."

"...Yeah," I replied, nodding and bowing my head to the wish-granter. "Even if I do forget about all of this, I don't think these memories and experiences will ever truly go away. These things I've experienced with all of you have made actual memories that I will keep no matter what, so...thank you for that."

A smile formed on the wish-granter's face. "You never truly answered my question," she teased. "Still, you do like to ramble—I guess I should have expected that. The wish is complete, Cresselia. We did it."

"These will be the last words you hear from me in this life, Cresselia. I hope you keep your word about keeping these memories—because I will always consider you someone close. And even if you do forget...I am sure that there will be someone or something to make you remember them someday."

Her voice was muffled and faraway, and I had to struggle to hear my friend over the sound of something shattering—and it took me a few moments to register that it was the gem on my forehead—the source of my existence—that had broken.

I'd died—that had been decided the moment it had even cracked—but I hadn't really died, if we were talking about things from a deeper point of view.

No, I was just waiting to live again.