Just like the three Legendaries birds, Lugia is bound to an Orb. In the hidden, underwater part of Shamouti’s Shrine, Crys will find it again after it was dormant for centuries. The Orb resonates with hers and Lugia’s Inner Song~
(Inspired by a visual from the Pokémon Worlds video)
As I prepare to post the second chapter of God in the Midst, I realize I don't talk about it a lot or at all on here. I am working on it — it is coming along, and the adventures in the Orange Islands have only begun.
To begin the long journey, I first want to share a document. A proud accomplishment for this fanfic is that I have created a language — the Shamoutian Language.
Since this will be playing a very integral part to the story from the beginning, I will still be adding notes to the final notes of each chapter. Buuuut, this gives you slightly more lore than you would get otherwise right away — and there are plenty of easter eggs in here for you to find. Enjoy.
Hoenn, Sinnoh, Kanto and Johto used to be separate kingdoms.
The native people of Sinnoh are named Sina, and so is their language. It roughly translates into “Our People”. Nowadays, they live mostly in the north and north-west of Sinnoh. Their most prominent speaker is Princess Salvia.
Sinnoh is the name given by the native people and can be translated into “Land of our people”.
There are also Sina language courses and radio- as well as tv-broadcasts.
Though not minority languages, Alolan, Kalosian and Unovan are seperate languages as well, spoken by 60% of Alolans, 50% of Kalosians and 43% of Unovans as native tongue.
Unovan is an isolated language and is neither mutually intelligible nor directly related to any other language spoken in the Pokémon world. It is split in two groups: Northern Unovan and Southern Unovan.
Though most of those people speak a dialect that is similar in grammar, as well as a lot of lean words and expressions.
The Draconid People are a minority that live in northern Hoenn. They are very few, though, and their language is almost dead. There are only an estimated 300 speakers left.
The Shamouti Language an officially recognized language that developed from settlers of Hoenn after centuries of isolation. Unlike Unovan, however, there is still a partial mutual intelligibility, meaning it is not an language isolate.
The language of the Alpha-Culture is the predecessor of Kalosian and Alto-Maran.
Alto-Mare is a curious case, as it seems to be the only district where a language based on the language of the Alpha-Culture is spoken, though there is very little mutual intelligibility with Kalosian.
Maren was the best sailor Crys had ever met. She had seen her getting in desperate situations with a cold head and face the elements like it was nothing. She never stayed for long on the ground; it was like her whole being was in tune with the waves and like the ocean was an old friend. When she wasn’t out there fishing, she was carrying deliveries between the islands.
Or in this case, people.
Crys was up the deck, her eyes on the horizon, breathing slowly. She had just came back from an exhausting mission, and was feeling a bit restless after all the adrenaline and stress a rescue always brought, but being on the water soothed her. It always did. It was always the perfect combo : adjusting naturally her balance to the gentle wave beneath the boat, the wind dancing around her, iodine breeze filling her lungs. Wherever she was in the world, it always felt like home.
At her side, Maren was smiling, sharing the sentiment, and deliberately oblivious to her Krabby gripping a pen in his claw, tracing indecipherable scribbles on the captain’s log.
“It’s good to have you around again. It’s been a while since you visited.”
“I was only on that mission for three weeks, you know.”
Maren nodded. “True, but you’re always moving around; you barely ever settle in whenever you come to Kiyomi! You’re like the Wind. You’re hard to catch !”
Crys smiled at the comparison.
“As if you weren’t always out there!” the Ranger gestured at the vast Ocean in front of them in a dramatic emphasis, making them both laugh.
“So, are you ready for the festival?”
Crys lowered her eyes. She tried to attend the celebration every summer, as much as she could; ever since Lugia became her Guardian, she felt it was some sort of duty she owed to him, but the excitement for the celebration was often coming with the slightest taunt of anxiety. Every year, hoping the Gods would not get angry. Every year, hoping an island would not sink.
Maren probably felt the shift in her mood, because she nudged her playfully.
“Don’t worry. No chaos can arise when Lugia obeys you.”
Crys rolled her eyes.
“Lugia doesn’t obey me. We just have a sort of… mutual understanding.”
Maren scoffed.
“Mutual understanding.”
She studied her friend for a while, then focused again on the horizon.
“It’s a shame you never played the maiden in the celebration, tho. It would have been perfect!”
Crys shook her head. “It’s not my place. I’m just a… back-up in case things turn…er, not as planned.”
Maren nodded . She had witnessed first hand the climate catastrophe that happened when Lawrence III had captured the birds and awaken their wrath. It was still a miracle to her that the twins were around specifically this year to save the day, but maybe it has not been a coincidence, after all. She knew the Legendaries had their own ways.
The adventure had definitely been a turning point for the twins and their best friend, sealing a fate maybe bigger than them, that they had to fulfill ever since. But it also established strong bond of friendships between them, the Shamouti Islanders and the young Captain, that lasted ever since. Near-end of the world experiences would do that, somehow.
“I know your brother is busy, but I’m surprised Ritchie didn’t come with you.”
“Oh, he had duties at the ranch today, but he’ll join me tomorrow for the celebration.”
Crys had found her smile again, but the captain could feel there was something else. And thus, wasn’t too surprised when the young Ranger asked with a quiet voice :
“Also… Actually, Maren, can you drop me at the shrine?”
Maren raised her eyebrows, but didn’t add a word. It was still early in the morning. They had set sails at the first lights of dawn, and Shamouti wasn’t too far west from Kiyomi Island, and that special atmosphere brought by early mornings was still around them.
“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
Maren noticed the shoulders of her friend imperceptibly relaxing, but didn’t comment.
They spent the next thirty minutes of the ride catching up with each other’s adventures, and soon enough, Maren was stopping the boat nearby the shore, in the little cove under the cliff.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait?”
Crys shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I’ll be fine, Maren, thank you.”
“Anytime!”
Crys waved at Krabby, who shook his pen in delight.
“Take care! See you tomorrow!”
She jumped in the shallow water, up to her calves, the rocky sand crunching under her weight.
She stayed in the water for a while, waving goodbye at Maren, until her boat was just a little speck in the far off distance - and even a little longer, suddenly lost in her thoughts. A slight bell noise from the wind shook her from her torpor, and she felt Vee’s straightening in alert on her shoulder, his long ears pointing in the direction of the stairs.
Taking off her wet shoes, she released her two Vaporeons, who raced into the warm waters immediately to stretch their fins, Lagune following Aquali like his shadow.
Familiar scent of the hibiscuses up the hill floated to her, and she took a deep breath before starting her climb. With all the islanders busy with the matsuri preparations, she was pretty sure to be left alone at the shrine. At least, she hoped so.
Her heart clenched a bit, full of anxiety, fear, hope, utter joy, relief - all at once - when she spotted the ceremonial pillars, solidly standing around the little altar. A lot had happened, this last decade, including the destruction of the shrine… and his restoration again. She oddly felt responsible, ever since Lugia trusted her with his Song.
Abandoning her shoes on the last step, she turned around, looking for the familiar presence of Slowking, but he was nowhere to be seen yet. She knew he never wandered too far off from his den, though, whose entrance was scattered with little baskets of offering from the islanders.
She sat among the flowers, nearby the edge of the cliff - being inside the stone circle seemed far too ceremonial, and she just wanted to say hello. She wasn’t sure he would even answer her call, but she could at least let him know she was here. Her fingertips were tingling, sensitive to the energy around, eager to play the song, but she needed some fuel first. Fortunately, she still had some berries the old Saeko-san gave her yesterday; she always distributed extra to anyone passing in front of her garden.
“Even sea bream is not delicious when eaten in loneliness.”
She almost jumped out of her skin when she noticed Slowking by her side, his front paws crossed behind his back, as if he had materialized out of thin air. The wise guardian of the shrine was looking at her, the same blank indecipherable expression in his eyes.
Slowking didn’t look a day older than when they first met him. She never managed to know how old he really was, but he was old, as the elders of the islands told her stories about him from their childhood.
She focused on the ocean again, silent, offering him one of the Sitrus berry she was munching.
“Sorry it’s not sea bream.”
He accepted the food without a word, and for a moment, they both remained silent, their eyes on the horizon. She had came to know how to let him speak. But the raw energy from the Island, from the sea, from the wind, were making her limbs tingling, and a slight frown danced on her face. She wriggled nervously as anticipation rised inside her.
“The ocean does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient.“
“You say that as if I had any influence on his choice to come.”
“One should lie as empty and open as a beach, Child of the Wind, while waiting for a gift from the sea.”
She refrained the urge to roll her eyes. Sometimes, she couldn’t tell if he was joking - if he could ever do that - or giving her cryptic advice. If they were in a movie, he could have easily filled the role of the enigmatic deceiving master speaking only in riddles.
She gulped down the last berry bite, and reached for her bag, delicately taking the ceremonial shell flute out of it. It was the very one Melody had used to call Lugia when they first met, and she had insisted Crys kept it with her, arguing they had a spare. She had taught her how to play, taught her the different ceremonial tunes, even though Lugia’s song had come naturally to Crys; as if her soul had knew the melody before she was even born. As if it had just awakened. The instrument had always felt familiar in her hands, as if it belonged there. It was hers, Melody had said; but she couldn’t help but feeling a profound reverence toward it. It had crossed generations, and it was very humbling to be trusted with it.
She knew the connection ran deeper than the music; deeper than her very soul. Yet, a part of her was always afraid to lose it. What if one day, he didn’t answer?
“The Wind has a voice; the Ocean has ears.” spoke Slowking, as if catching on her uncertainties.
Right. If you say so, she wanted to answer - but she knew better than to let her inner thoughts slip out around a psychic mind.
But now wasn’t the time to hesitate. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, grounding herself to the island, hooking her spirit to the floating energy around her.
Her heart was beating a bit faster when she brought the ocarina to her lips; and as her next breath carried the Song, clear notes filled the Wind, chiming in the breeze, and ricocheting on the waves. From the very inside of her soul, she was calling him, conveying her longing to see him, craving their connection, and hoping he would feel it, too. She barely paid attention to the single tear racing down her cheek, as a low vibration wrinkled the surface of the Ocean, filling the water and the air alike; a deep, rich note echoing all around, answering her call.
She slightly opened her eyes as a whirlpool rised above the waves, his song overlapping hers, and she slowly let the flute fall from her lips as Lugia broke the water, appearing in front of her.
As majestic as ever, he was flying effortlessly, and when his eyes met hers, she barely hold back the tears from an emotion too raw, too pure to be contained. Gracefully, the Legendary beast landed on the cliff, not damaging a single flower, and she raced to him. Forgetting all ceremony, she hugged him forcefully, crushing her nose on his beak, his rough skin slightly scratching the tip, but she didn’t care, as the strong energy from their bond enveloped them, waves of pure joy running through her whole being.
“Lugia ! I missed you…”
He nudged her slightly, making her giggle.
“I heard your music.”
She smiled softly, relieved. All fears aside, now, she remembered why she wanted to see him, all the questioning she had ever since that day. And she was trying to not be impatient, as he had just shown up, but Lugia was not fooled.
“I can sense something is troubling you, Little One.”
She wanted to say she was not so little anymore, but there was so much love and care in that name - and after all, to him, she was still a tiny thing. He had grown in size too, ever since they first met him, on that very island.
“I just wondered… why did you show up in Vermillion City, last spring? Why did you…”
She frowned slightly.
“Why did you lead my brother’s fate, this day?”
“I watched over you both for a long time, Little One.”
Indeed. Lugia was her Guardian, but it was he who brought the news to Sacha about being the Chosen One. He had appeared to him more often than any other Legendary. He had visited them in Alola. He had carried messages to her brother several times - sometimes through her.
Still, she felt she was missing a piece of the puzzle.
Goh had called that meeting with Lugia a fateful encounter. However…
“I can feel it’s different. That’s there is something…”
Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She looked Lugia in the eyes.
“You brought them together.”
“I did.”
Simple as that.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer right away, and she immediately felt a bit ashamed of that question. It wasn’t her story; it wasn’t hers to ask.
But Lugia’s voice rose around her, kind and calm.
“We see the bonds. Through space and time, souls and stories are connected. We help make the connections. What you do with these connections, however, is yours.”
She nodded, thoughtful. It was something she knew, somehow, as she had experimented it more than once. But it was not always clear nor obvious, and it was sometimes hard to decipher the specifics signs the Legendaries sent to them.
She still wasn’t sure to understand, but she felt reassured, somehow. She approached gently her face to his, her hand gently brushing the rough scales, and pressed their foreheads together in a honi, before separating.
Lugia soared slightly above the cliff, and flapped his wings a bit stronger, blessing the shrine with the wind. Of course, it was not as strong as what he did every year in Fula City, but the pure elemental energy made Crys burst with laughter, her whole being filled with glee and adrenaline, her own energy melting with the elemental force.
Bending backward, Lugia dived into the ocean gracefully, but didn’t disappear immediately. His head surfaced, and with a playful coo, a gleam in his eyes, he invited her to join. With a big smile, she threw her shirt above her head, and ran down the stairs, the wind still messing with her hair, and she didn’t hesitate a second before jumping in the warm water. And as she was starting to swim in Lugia’s direction, she felt the current picking her up and bringing her effortlessly to the Legendary. She spotted her two Vaporeons nearby, but even if they didn’t fear the Guardian of the Sea, they kept swimming at a respectful distance.
Crys turned again her attention to Lugia, wrapping an arm around his neck, closing her eyes, humming a song they both shared as he gently carried her around.
He would soon go back to the Abyss, and she wished she could follow, just because their encounters were always too brief. She never knew when they would meet again, but she had to hold on that instinct that they would always will.
Lugia’s song resonated all around. Through the ground, through the sea, carried by the wind, against the cliffs, gently agitating the flowers.
But most importantly, it resonated in her soul.
She was feeling at peace, and indulged in the feeling for a second, before letting go and moving in the water to face him again.
“Will you come tomorrow?”
Lugia drowned his eyes in hers.
“Maybe.”
Good enough, she thought, pressing her forehead against his one last time. He was ever as changing as the sea, after all.
“You’ll hear my song.”
She nodded, and swam back, her hand keeping contact until the last second with him.
He slowly motioned on her side, initiating his departure, but not without a last word for her.
“The wave of the future is coming and there is no fighting it, Little One.”
He circled around her twice, his giant frame creating a small current, but not for a second did she feel in danger. He echolocated her, sending vibrations in all of her body, before diving to the depths without a noise. The last thing she saw was the tip of his tail, breaching the surface in a perfectly smooth arc, barely leaving a ripple on the water.
And just like that, he was gone, and she was left floating peacefully above the blue. For a while, she kept staring at the clouds above the horizon line, her heart suddenly yearning for something, a sort of melancholy filling her chest. It was only when Aquali and Lagune splashed her face, playing around, that she broke from her torpor.
She climbed back to the shrine, where Vee was waiting for her, and sat again among the flowers, putting back her loose shirt over her wet swimsuit. The tropical air would dry it soon, anyway. She sat here for a while after Lugia disappeared, salt crusting on her tanned skin, the warm wind tousling with her hair. She could hear the faintest melody in it, and, as the sun warmed her face, she again felt at peace.
Not for long, though. She soon was drawn out of her daydreaming by a honk. As she turned around, Melody gave her a nonchalant welcome sign, other hand still on the wheel of her sporty fuschia cabriolet.
“Hey girlfriend, need a ride?”
Crys refrained to roll her eyes, but couldn’t help but smile upon seeing her friend.
“I thought you would arrive tomorrow.”
“I needed to talk with him.”
Melody nodded.
“Where is my favorite Chosen One?”
Crys smiled. “Doing some research in Hoenn or something. Sorry, you’ll have to do with the other half of the package.”
Melody looked at her above her sunglasses.
“…Research?”
Crys jumped above the door to slide on the passenger seat, knowing that despite her flashy taste in luxury cars, her friend wouldn’t mind some sand around. No islander minded it, somehow.
“I’ll tell you all on the way. I’m starving !”
Melody roared the engine. “I’m waiting for the day one of you two will say otherwise!”
