la lumière de la lune

The wind only grew stronger. The shadows around them darted between the trees, growing frantic. It was all Vi could do to keep shuffling forward, guided steadily by Cerin. He tried to block her from the wind, but instead his frost-coated fur whipped her face. One of the shadows fled across their path, but he kept moving. Something was calling him; he could feel it. He had given Mount Coronet a wistful glance since they first landed in Sinnoh. The finding in the library only compelled him further.

A gust of wind struck with an eerie howl. Cerin turned to shelter Vi from it, holding her close as the wind nearly whipped his mane up over his head. The wind died down as the howl echoed, distorting itself each second. Right as Cerin turned to continue their trek, a shadow rushed towards them, eyes glowing, spreading its mangled limbs across the sky.

The Zoroark sent back the most powerful Night Daze he could muster, completely dispelling the shadows that had started to press in all around them. The woods became silent, disturbed only by his pained breathing. Vi reached up to scratch his chin, giving him a determined nod. They were almost there.

They trudged forward, hoping that this would be what they were looking for. The trees thinned, but the moment they stepped into the clearing they tangled in on themselves, cutting off the small field of snow from the rest of the mountain entirely. There it stood, in the center.

A small, gray creature—no taller than Cerin when Vi first found him—stood watching, yellow eyes piercing into their souls. Its white mane curled into the air, turning crimson. Its alluring movements were like a Litwick’s flame. They observed each other for a moment—and Vi noticed that unlike her and Cerin, the newcomer’s breath left no frost at all. They made their realization at the same time.

This was a Zorua, one that had become even less than a rumor. Vi reached to cover her mouth and it flinched as Cerin took a nervous step forward. His arms hung awkwardly in front of him, unsure of what to do.

He bent down and cast an illusion of a Zorua, the one that he knew. Its counterpart let out a quiet gasp, eyes clouding. A small voice crept across the field, which Cerin reflexively attempted to translate for Vi.

“This is how our brothers looked,” it said, creeping towards the illusory Zorua. “How do you know this? You are…” Its yellow gaze moved up, flicking between Vi and Cerin. “Together.”

Cerin’s ear twitched as he thought through his response. He still had trouble understanding pokémon from this region, and one that lived in isolation no less. “We are alive,” he purred. “We have found home.” His illusory Zorua vanished and was replaced by the sweeping illusion of his memory. He showed his home in the woods, where the sounds of the night surrounded him; the schoolyard, where he let himself be caught; his new home, his family; the league and his battles; the weeks spent in the hospital. The vision faded and he let out a sigh. “Most of us are still alone, hiding.”

The Zorua nodded slowly. “Many years… Many generations… I am last.” It looked up at him. “Your human, it takes care?” Its expression softened as Cerin nodded. “Your human, you take care… Your illusions are pure,” it added. Its gaze grew forlorn, and the wisps of red fur slowed their movement. “We survived… by hate. You live… You are loved… That is all I ever wanted.” 

“We’re working towards relations,” Vi spoke hesitantly. “In hopes that dark types can be loved.” While she spoke in her native tongue, Cerin added his best translation, hoping that the Zorua would understand.

It tilted its head, ethereal fur following the motion. “Dark?”

Vi stepped forward in her usual excited manner, though her frozen legs made her stumble. The Zorua squeaked and stepped back, but it kept its gaze focused intently on her. Cerin helped her regain her balance and they said together, “We are renaming it from ‘evil.’”

It seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. It took a step forward, suddenly weary. “I remember… so long ago… a human gave me food… before we began the journey borne of hatred…” It staggered, and Vi bent down reflexively. Its muzzle landed in her palm, eyes drifting closed. She cupped her hands around the Zorua’s head. “Fuyu…” It sighed, before dissipating into the night.

Cerin gazed sadly at the spot it had been. “Fuyu,” he repeated. “The human named her Fuyu. They were all driven up into the mountains… and she was angry that she could not see the human again.”

A mournful howl spread across the darkened sky.