Chapter 28
CARSON
“The time is now, Child of Fire. I’m here if you will just look. Bringer of Freedom, come to me.”
Carson Brightflame woke up to Pyro pulling on his sleeve. He knew immediately what had happened. The Stone Giant was calling to him again. It’s been so long. His heart leapt in his throat as he climbed out of his bed.
He walked across the stone floor and put on some sandals. When he looked out of the window, he marveled at the thousands of stars shimmering in the sky. The night sky never got like this back home because the smoke emanating from Mt. Chimney clouded the stars.
His eyes were drawn to a star near the horizon in the distance. Carson squinted his eyes at the desert that sprawled out for miles beyond the Mirage Tower. He felt a rush and it was almost as if he had flown to the strange orange light. When he saw what it was, he was terrified. It seemed to Carson that the desert was eating itself. Sand swirled around and began to fall into a pit where the light was coming from.
He shook his head, and the vision disappeared. He was back in the Mirage Tower. Carson looked around for his Spirit Pokémon, and found Pyro at the door to his room, beckoning for him to follow. “Is it time?” he asked the Spirit Pokémon. He already knew the answer.
He made his way down the tower silently. There were no guards from the Sand or Forrest family present. It seemed that the entire tower was deserted. Had Solomon Forrest taken his army back to Foretree? No, Carson had eaten with the Prince last night. Is this another dream? He wondered.
When he reached the bottom of the tower and exited into the starry night, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Carson turned, but no one was there.
“Torchic!” called Pyro. Carson turned back around. The light was a head of him. How far away was it? One mile? Two? Carson couldn’t tell, the desert was gently rolling sand dunes as far as the eye could see. He started to walk.
“Come to me,” the voice of the Stone Giant played in his ears. Time passed slowly, and he and Pyro walked in silence. Or did they? Sometimes it seemed to Carson that they were talking with one another, human to Pokémon.
I’m scared, Carson said.
Don’t be, Torchic said with a look. I’m here with you.
The boy smiled at that. The little orange bird Pokémon was hardly an inch over a foot tall, but still he felt comforted.
There was a noise behind him, like sand shifting. Carson stopped walking, too scared to turn around. Something’s following us.
Don’t stop, Pyro chirped. The Stone Giant doesn’t want us to stop. You mustn’t be afraid…
Carson swallowed and continued walking. The light in the distance was getting closer. He had to put all fear aside. I am a Brightflame, he thought to himself. I will not be afraid.
It sounded good in his head, until he finally came upon the light. Sure enough, the sand was swirled around itself, and at the center a pit that gave off a faint orange glow. How had he seen it from so far away, back at the Mirage Tower?
He approached the outer rim where the sand began to fall. Carson hesitated. He knew the Stone Giant was waiting for him in the pit. He had had so many dreams, and in them, he had run through the maze of tunnels many times before. It wasn’t the cave he was afraid of. It was the darkness.
“Chic!” squeaked Pyro as it leapt into the sand. Around and around the sand carried Torchic, towards the center. The Pokémon caught its Spirit Partner’s eye, and the boy nodded.
Carson took a step. He sank forward, waist deep, into the swirling sand. He went around and around, and with each revolution around the pit he became more and more scared. Just before he was about to fall into the pit, he grabbed Torchic and screamed…
…but no sound came out. He tumbled into darkness.
The first vision came. It was raining, and he was running through the woods, voices of angry soldiers behind them. Suddenly, a man stepped out from behind a tree, and reached out to grab him. Too slow. Carson swung the knife in his hand and opened his throat. Blood sprayed across his face. What have I done? Carson thought as his eyes began to tear up. I killed him. Pyro was there, and he leapt into Carson’s arms. They had to keep running through the trees, or the soldiers would catch up to them.
The vision changed. In a flash, seven years passed before his eyes. It was night he knew, and raining again, Carson was on top of a marble roof, and in the distance all around sheer white cliffs encircled the town below. Pyro was taller, with more yellowish feathers, but his left arm was spotted with red with Father’s blood, just as its feathers had been as a Torchic. He’s evolved, Carson knew. There was no time to waste. They had to get to their target. Pyro’s claws flashed a bright white, then the Pokémon’s fist was on fire. Pyro cut into the marble rooftop like a stick of butter. The Pokémon removed the circular cut-out for Carson to go through.
He found the rope that was attached to his torso. He tied the other end to a spire on top of the house. He wasn’t worried about anyone seeing, for he was all in black, and the jewel on his breastplate hid him from mortal eyes. Carson lowered himself into the room… to his target.
He found her. Huddled underneath the blankets, the little girl slept. He had to be silent. A round, blue, Spheal lay asleep at the foot of her bed. Carson started to have second thoughts. Must I do this? he asked himself.
You must do whatever it takes to end the storm. Are you prepared to do this? came the voice of the Stone Giant.
His feet landed softly, silently. Carson looked at the girl, then approached the Spheal. Without a second thought, he jammed the knife in the Pokémon’s throat. Cold blood poured over his hand as the poor Pokémon gasped for air, to scream, to call for help, to alert the sleeping girl. It was too late.
The girl’s eyes opened and flashed at Carson. She saw him. She reached out to him, for help, grasping at her own throat. She must have only been seven. Tears streamed down her face as she coughed and blood dripped down her mouth. She was dead. Carson shut her eyes with a wet, red hand.
Everything changed, again. He was back in his father’s throne room, in Lavaridge. He was older now, a man grown… and another man with a Blaziken stood before him, swords drawn. The man had a shock of orange hair, and he was panting, as was his Blaziken. Carson looked to his right, Pyro was fully evolved. Was he fighting this man? There was only one other person who had a Spirit Pokémon from the Blaziken line. He had to have been a Brightflame…
Once again, he asked the Stone Giant. Must I do this?
You must do whatever it takes to end the storm, the Giant answered.
Carson knew what he must do. He reached for his breastplate, for the jewel. He had to end the storm…
The visions ended. He was standing in the Stone Giant’s chamber. The huge, rocky Pokémon stood before him.
“You’ve done well, Child of Fire,” the Giant’s voice rumbled like boulders falling down the mountainside. “I am Regirock, and you have come to me at last. You’ve proven yourself worthy. Bringer of Freedom, join with the blood of your Pokémon, and become a Hero.” The monstrous Regirock stepped aside, revealing a stone podium with a sharp, rocky spike on it.
Somehow, Carson knew what he must do. He and Pyro approached. The boy grabbed the jagged spike. In his hand, it looked like the knife he killed the soldier with, and then the girl, and it looked like the sword he held in his hand while he stared down the man in his Father’s throne room…
He sliced his hand open on it. It hurt, but not as much as the hurt he felt in his heart from the visions. Pyro followed suit, cutting its foot on the spike. As soon as the blood of human and Pokémon mixed together, a pillar of bright orange flame shot towards the roof of the cabin.
“Fulfill your destiny,” said Regirock. “End the storm.”
Carson felt his left shoulder grow slightly heavier. When he put his hand there, he found a shiny metallic sleeve, much like the one Solomon Forrest would wear, with a round, rainbow jewel on the breastplate. It was the same gem from his visions.
“Torchic!” chirped Pyro excitedly. It had a shiny metal armor covering on its wings as well. On one of the wings rested a dull, orange jewel.
“Prince Forrest and his Sceptile have armor like this,” Carson said. Then he looked at the dull jewel on Pyro’s armor. “But why isn’t Pyro’s gem shining?”
“When your Pokémon grows, so shall the armor grow,” Regirock said. “And only when Pyro reaches the height of its evolutionary power, will you be able to awaken the Hero within. Go now. Go back to the Hero of Nature. Learn from him.”
“The green light,” Carson finally understood. Solomon Forrest was the green light from his last dream of Regirock. It was how he was able to defeat Starfall. He smiled. “There are two Heroes now,” he said excitedly as he picked up Torchic. “Just like the legends father used to tell us.” He stopped and looked back at Regirock, standing next to the pillar of orange flame. “But… what about the third? There were Three Heroes in the stories; in the dreams you showed me.”
“There were,” answered Regirock after a long silence.
“Who is the last Hero? Where can we find him? Or her? Is she a girl, maybe?”
Regirock leapt into the orange fire, and the cave became a blur in Carson’s vision, but the stone giant’s voice echoed in his head.
“A Hero cannot be found, until a Hero finds them self.”
In an instant, Carson found himself on the sand again. The Mirage Tower was outlined in the distance against the light of the moon.
“It’s about time you showed up again, Prince Brightflame,” said a voice. “I followed you out here and I’ve been waiting for some time.”
Carson knew that voice. So there was someone following me, he realized. He turned around with Pyro in his arms and looked up at the figure before him.
Solomon Forrest and Sceptile stood there, looking down at the young Prince. “I knew you were a Hero,” Carson said, in awe.
Solomon just smiled and knelt down to look him in the eye. He placed a hand on Carson’s armored shoulder. The moonlight caught the jewel on his chest and it outshone even the brightest stars in the night sky. Sceptile seemed to smile at that.
“It would seem that I am.”
Carson still didn’t feel like a hero. He was only a little boy, almost eleven years old. He remembered the visions again. “I’m not sure that I can be a hero.”
Solomon’s smile disappeared. There was a seriousness in his eyes. It was a determination that wiped away all of Carson’s doubt.
“You’ve been through more than most people would experience in a lifetime. I heard how you rescued your brother and the boy from Slateport. Besides, something tells me it wasn’t mere luck that a certain Swampert escaped from Lavaridge’s famous prison cells. Carson Brightflame, you’re already a hero.” Solomon smiled, and Carson hugged him.
“I promise I’ll end the storm,” the boy said, repeating Regirock’s words.
“No,” Solomon said. “We’ll do it together. Us and our Pokémon.”
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