Welcome to Gaia! ::

As I sit here writing this, a great many questions come to mind. Why did it go wrong? I can only construe in my briefest moments of clarity that the medallion must have been the cause. But why? Is it a mistake by Arceus — or some part of his grand plan? I can only hope and trust that, whatever the reason, it does not result in catastrophe.

However, my musings are not the cause for this. I write and rewrite this entry (I believe this is the third time, though there may be more) due to my memory loss. The aftermath of the great battle with Darkrai has stripped me of my most precious asset; my memories. I find myself having vague recollections of great meetings and past adventures with people I know must exist, but whose faces and names have slipped from my mind. I theorize it to be a result of losing the medallion of the Mind. Strangely, I have kept the powers granted to me by Arceus. However, I find myself quickly losing the namesake of the medallion. My cognitive functions are quietly slipping away from me.

Each entry I have made has chronicled a different part of my life. I'm uncertain as to whether or not I have, in the past, discovered previous entries and written onwards. I assume that to be the case. In this entry, I shall tell of the battle with Darkrai.

A great deal of preparation went into the fight. Times of diplomacy and times of battle against foes of a greater mortal magnitude than I thought I would face. But those adventures are past journeys. For now, I look at Darkrai. I must focus, for I can feel my mind slipping even now.

We amassed the entirety of our forces. Both young and old fought for everything they had. Everything they had lost. I remember in particular a Scyther who was far too old to be on the field. I was surprised that he could still fight adequately. I find myself rambling, I'm afraid. Actually, the Scyther was among those that I did not recognize. Although I cannot remember the instance, my wife told me that a fairly large group of volunteers came just prior to the fight. They were lead by a family of Eevees. The father had, apparently, one tail torn and his gem removed. Likely, it was a result of the painful times we had lived in.

So, we progressed to the battle. My wife and I lead the army against Darkrai, the entirety of our forces against a creature that had attempted to parallel god. Although it hurt me to do so, I did very little. The words of an intelligent man kept me back, my role was — What was his name? I find myself unable to remember his name or face. Not even the faintest detail remains. It pains me to realize this.

Our strategy was lacking, to say the least. Against such a disgustingly strong enemy, any semblance of a plan was shattered. The strong fought and persevered whereas the weak ran. Or died.

Small individual groups began to sprout throughout the army. Those that knew each other well formed small teams and began to work together, using tactics to distract Darkrai as a few closed in to attack relentlessly. The groups worked well. Less people were getting injured and Darkrai was getting hurt more and more. I believe I may petition these teams to fight further. Perhaps the strength they have together could be used to benefit those coming out of these dark times.

Until a black mist spawned from his robes. All those near him succumbed to sleep. A normally sound sleep was perverted by his very presence. Those who fell began to writhe violently, their howls covered the field. All of them screamed for release from the invisible enemy before them. All of them cried when they could not escape.

Fortunately, my wife saw the virtue of waking her comrades and began bringing them back to consciousness whatever way she could. Where the nightmares should have weakened them, the anger of those that had been subjected to their worst fears seemed to only double their strength.

Through the efforts of my wife and the army, he was weakened. The time to strike was there. I told Veilmys to fly into the air, carrying the plates. I rushed forward with him and commanded the Pidgeot to drop the plates.

I unleashed the full power of Arceus and I stopped him. For how long I cannot be sure and the loss of my medallion guarantees I won't be there to stop him next time. I can only hope that my children will be able to stop him. The kingdom for my people is being created even now. I shall leave it in the hands of my wife and my children. I shall leave it in the hands of the Original One.

I can only hope that my fading sanity does not destroy all that I worked so hard to build. Once my children are ready to take the throne, I shall abdicate myself to a quiet place. Hopefully, my loss of self will not be allowed to bring harm to those I love.

Perhaps some miracle will return the medallion to me... I can only hope.

I will hide this journal as I have no doubt hidden countless others. Knowledge of my condition cannot be allowed to spread during such a fragile time. Hopefully I will remember these journals and retrieve them. Or, should I die first, perhaps they will become a testament to my sanity and my deeds. I don't wish for something as bothersome as fame, but this information may be essential for future battles. As I sit here on the border between who I am and who I lost, I dread most dearly his return.

--Orion.