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Rehome Event Prompt: Use the phrase "The noise behind him/her escalated" as the start of the prompt response and go from there! What is happening behind the Pokémon?
Date: June 2013
Post/Word count: 2421
Interaction with: Between Hazan and Havard
“Hellooo?” The bright yellow-skinned boy stood at the mouth of a deceivingly small cave entrance. While he listened, childish laughter echoed softly from the cavern walls and faded as if the darkness had greedily swallowed up his delight. He was trying to keep his voice down, honest.
Softer still he murmured to himself, “I was sure of it, this time.” Gathering up his courage and setting aside a chilling sense of uncertainty, he continued deeper into the cave and tunnel system.
After leaving home at the tender age of ten (the right age for any human to start off on a pokémon journey!), Hazan the Shiny Chikorita, now as much a human child as a pokémon, he had set off on a quest very close to his heart. A very long, educational and, knowing Hazan, often dangerous search, he had learned more about himself and the world around him than he had learned at any other time in his life. But he had learned very little about the one question that weighed the heaviest on his young mind: Where in the world was his friend, Havard?
He had followed many wild goose chases that led to dead ends. This small collection of vague local legends was only one among many just like it that he had investigated, so he had no reason whatsoever to believe that this lead would bear fruit when the others had not. Even so, he could not ignore the rumors of a grey-skinned phantom, or of the most curious one about a half-child, half pokémon, and had followed them to this very cave. And he absolutely would not turn back now.
He called out softly once more: “Havaaaard?”
Through a maze of tunnels and caves, the shiny chikorita child’s voice did in fact carry. It preceded him quite well, as if a movie soundtrack was heralding its diminutive hero before the viewer knew whom he might be. But his voice fell on deaf ears. Or rather, it fell on unconscious ears.
There was a room deep within his sanctuary, brightly lit with numerous flickering lights and humming machines. Somewhere, something had boiled over and dried where it fell. It was here that Havard sat folded over on his desk. He literally had his back to his visitor as he approached. Despite this vulnerability, he should have heard Hazan’s approach, and he would have seen the flashing red lights announcing an intruder if he had been awake, but he was caught within the blackened dreams of one completely exhausted.
The muffled sound of the shiny chikorita’s advance gradually got louder as he explored only the beginning of the vast cave system. With each passing moment, the noise behind Havard escalated. The voice echoed eerily in Havard’s mind. “Haaavaaard...” Large, bloodshot, violet eyes shot open.
Hazan now stood at the mouth of a huge cavern. His flashlight revealed stalactites far above his head, and the walls were equally distant on either side. “Wo-ow,” he hissed with awe. “This place is incredible.” More amazing still were the rows of book shelves and the soft glow of artificial lighting at the far end. Beyond these, Hazan could barely see anything around him. But he was now certain that this must be Havard’s cave, and he was ecstatic.
“HUMAN.” The voice that oozed from the darkness was full of urgency and cracked from disuse. Had Havard ever used his voice?
“What? No, I’m--" Forcibly cut off by some unseen power, the shiny chikorita child found himself completely paralyzed. He struggled to move, to speak, anything and managed only to shake and grunt breathlessly.
Havard had slept perhaps half an hour all night, working until exhaustion overcame him at his desk. Desperately he had worked day after day, night after night, searching for the key to his recent transformation, living on cat naps alone. Surely it had been a mutation, or worse, a breakdown in his DNA. Perhaps it had been an anomaly introduced from the beginning and his new form, monstrous as it was, had been a side-effect of countless experimentations.
But now, someone had come back for him. Or perhaps a treasure hunter had found his subterranean sanctuary by accident. It mattered not, really, for no matter who it was, they would not stay, and they would never return. He would make sure that this knowledge, of his location, would never be shared. His eyes became a beacon in the darkness.
Hazan continued to fight the grip of Havard’s powerful psychic restraints. Finally, a memory returned to him, that the mewtwo could read projected thoughts. Ha... vard. It’s me.
Realization struck the mewtwo child just as he released a more powerful psychic blast. “Hazan?”
An oddly mint-green light rushed at the shiny chikorita and filled his vision. He had never seen anything like it. He was released from Havard’s invisible grasp too late. His muscles completely relaxed; even though it occurred to him briefly that he should try to protect himself, he could never fight back against his friend. He felt the impact and it engulfed him as it threw him backward. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. His flashlight spun across the floor and it flickered out, dropping a curtain of complete darkness on the cave.
Havard was not one to hurry about anything. He was careful, methodical, and brooding. Today was the first time he had run anywhere in his recallable memory. Then he was kneeling before his unexpected visitor and moaning softly to himself. And in the darkness, twin threads of heat would be the only other things to suggest that he was crying. He reached down and touched the boy’s face. “Hazan, it really is you.”
Even though he knew Hazan was not dead, he could not help but be overcome with grief. It was as if something from his nightmares had come true. He now realized that whatever had happened to him had also happened to his only friend. Whatever progress he had made in his search for the truth about this transformation had probably been in vain. He crumpled, forehead resting on Hazan’s shirt. “Why?”
And why was life so full of bittersweet irony? His home hidden in seclusion had been compromised, and by his only friend of all people. Now he finally could meet him again and Havard had mistaken him for an intruder. And just why was that? Because he looked like a human! A human! The source of every pain that he had ever suffered was humans. Humans had created him. Humans enslaved pokémon and used them for their own selfish and often frivolous gains. And they did a lot of things just because. Had humans made them both this way? Why!
Havard sighed. He was tired, so unbelievably tired. He gripped Hazan’s shirt tightly, worried that somehow he would awaken only to find that this had all been a dream. “I missed you.” He fell asleep wondering what he would do now. Nothing made sense anymore.
- - -
When Hazan awoke, he was completely blind. His heart fluttered in his chest with fear. Something was on top of him, and as he slowly became aware of the pain he was in, decided that movement for now was out of the question.
While he lay there, he gradually realized that he could see, although quite dimly. The ground beneath him was cold, and whatever was laying on him, specifically, on his chest, was warm. That must mean that he was still in the cave, and on him was--!
He reached up slowly and his fingers felt a mop of soft hair. What color was it? Had he seen black hair, perhaps? Or was it dark purple? Tears fell back, across his temples and into his own wild mop of reddish hair. Finally he had found Havard. For all of his efforts, he had been rewarded with an ungodly amount of pain and an unbelievably wonderful happiness. Had he ever been this happy?
And Havard was sleeping! They had both been sleeping on the floor. He couldn’t help but pretend for just a moment that they had gone out camping together. He shook with silent laughter. Oh, that hurts.
Havard stirred. Where was he? What was he gripping so tightly? His fingers released their hold on... fabric?
Then he remembered. With a soft but audible intake of breath, he sat up again and rubbed his head. He felt dizzy, but rested. “Hazan?”
Hazan realized that his friend couldn’t possibly see him smiling but it was clear in his voice. “It’s me!”
“What happened to you?”
“Well, there was a green light and--"
“No, no.” He turned and gestured in the darkness. Growling softly, he glanced around and concentrated; somewhere across the room a dial turned slowly and the cave began to glow warmly. It was the perfectly suited for reading.
It was the first time either one of them had seen the other in this state. When they had first met they had been pokémon and nothing more. Now they were barely recognizable, but recognition was absolute. “Why do you look like, well, me? Why do you look human?” With the last question he could not help but sound angry and derisive. He could hate humans and even himself but hating Hazan for any reason felt like tearing open a fresh wound.
Hazan sat up, watching Havard all the while. The mewtwo child’s pain was obvious and he was at a loss. “Well, there was this star that fell from the sky,” he began, and memory added to the statement that he had wanted to show it to Havard. “But I fell ill and woke up like I am now.”
Havard looked at him sharply. Something similar had fallen from the sky before him as well. He, too, had fallen asleep. Unlike Hazan, however, he had been slow to realize it. He was accustomed to levitating or flying, and he rarely looked at himself in the mirror. Feeling strange after such an incident had not been surprising, but it had been quite some time before he had discovered the change had taken place. If anything, he had assumed that the change had been gradual.
“Something tells me the same thing happened to you!” Hazan chuckled. He had never seen Havard so humbled. Perhaps he had expected Havard to remain godlike in his eyes forever.
When they rose to their feet, Hazan received another shock. “You got smaller.”
“You got taller!” Havard shot back. “Of course I appear to be smaller to you.” Normally he would have been more indulgent of the shiny chikorita. But now, well, they were the same age. Havard was really unsure how to behave. And he knew that Hazan was right; he was the size of a, well, a human child! Worse, not only was he shorter than he had once been, by human standards he may never be that tall again.
“Do you have any idea how happy I am to have finally found you? It feels like I’ve been looking forever!” Hazan grinned ear to ear. He was quite proud of his accomplishment: if he could find someone like Havard, he could find anyone or anything! More than though, that he had finally met his long lost friend. He would not soon be over this feeling, or so he thought.
Havard’s seclusion and privacy were precious to him. Hazan could appreciate it, even if he couldn’t understand it. And, come to think of it, he had invaded that privacy. Just like that, his elation was effectively crushed. “I, I’m sorry. I’m sure you wanted to keep this place secret. I understand that. But I just had to see you again. I’ll keep your secret, just like last time. I didn’t tell anybody about you.”
The mewtwo child turned away from him wordlessly. His anger and fear, truly, were secondary to everything else. He could not express that. He felt incapable. If he were to speak of it, he was not sure what would fly from his mouth.
Dismayed, Hazan watched Havard disappear into another room. He was as silent as he had ever been as a pokémon, floating from the room. Had Hazan’s selfishness cost him this friendship?
Havard returned a moment later, holding something in his hand. As he approached Hazan, he held out his hand and from his palm levitated something blue and green.
Hazan gasped. He watched as the shell he had dug out of the sand and given to Havard dropped into his yellowy hand. “Is that--"
“I’ve always kept this, from that time long ago.” It sounded more dramatic than he had intended. But showing him the shell also conveyed much more of what he was feeling than he could have expressed in words. “Now that you have found me, what do you plan to do?”
Hazan slowly turned the shell over and over. Could he even say what he wanted to say? Actually, I had been hoping I could stay with you.
“Absolutely not!”
Shocked, the shiny chikorita looked up at Havard. He had not realized that he had been thinking so loudly? He could not help but smirk. He looked down at the shell again. “Well, I’ve been out adventuring for a long time. I left home to do it.” His words held such finality.
Wasn’t it home any longer?
Were they both now alone?
“Hazan.”
When the shiny chikorita looked back at Havard, he was looking elsewhere, wrestling with some thought or other. What it was he could only guess. The mewtwo had always been an enigma to him. And now, it seemed to be even more the case because Hazan could only see himself as terribly selfish. He had betrayed something Havard had felt strongly about. Surely Havard was upset with him, for he was just as self-serving as any human.
“I,” Havard faltered, unable to speak for a moment. He could say that words were new to him. He could say anything he liked that was not the truth. I want you to stay. When you’re not out exploring.
“Ah.”
“Your mouth is hanging open.” Havard was smiling warmly at Hazan. It seemed like a foreign expression, as foreign as his face and everything else human about him. But it was not unpleasant.
“It’s...” Hazan was unable to reply. No, he had never been so happy, but at least now he was certain that the same was true for Havard.
