Sike Saner
*aromatisse noise*
- Joined
- Nov 22, 2007
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- #61
Chapter 16 – Home
“Go!” Solonn shouted at the terrified creature who cowered before him—the creature who’d nearly become his prey. He watched as the zigzagoon sprinted fearfully away through the tall grass, sickened by himself as he thought of what he’d nearly done.
“Well, that was certainly magnanimous of you,” said a bright, jovial voice.
Surprised, Solonn turned at once to see who’d just spoken. He saw a feathered, blue-and-gray dragon hovering in midair a short distance away.
The dragon introduced himself as Jal’tai, a latios. After Solonn had introduced himself in turn, Jal’tai asked what had brought him to this area, having never seen Solonn around before. Solonn told him that he’d fled from human abductors in Lilycove and was just trying to lie low until he could find a way to return to his home across the sea.
Jal’tai offered him a place to stay in a city in the west, where he could be safe and comfortable. Solonn hesitated to take him up on the offer, reluctant to go into another human city. Jal’tai assured him that the place he had in mind was nothing of the sort. After a a little more consideration, Solonn accepted Jal’tai’s offer and followed him westward through the forest.
Upon arriving at their destination, a place Jal’tai identified as Convergence, Solonn couldn’t help but notice familiarities about the city—ones that contradicted the latios’s assurances.
“Jal’tai, I thought you said this wasn’t a human city…”
“Yes, I most certainly did,” Jal’tai responded. “And on closer inspection, you might realize that indeed, just as I stated, this is not a human city. Here in Convergence, pokémon and humans live and work as equals.” He smiled proudly. “I’m the man in charge of this city, you see, and I wouldn’t have it any other way around here.”
That last part took a moment to fully register. “…Wait, did you say you were in charge here?” Solonn asked once it clicked.
Jal’tai nodded, still beaming. “Yes, that’s correct,” he said. “I am the mayor of this fine city. Convergence is my pride and joy—a testament to the equality of all peoples. You see… in the cities owned and ruled exclusively by humans, pokémon are second-class citizens—if even that.” Disgust flitted across his face. “But here, pokémon are afforded the same rights and opportunities as humans. They can own the same properties, operate the same vehicles, and enter the same occupations. Our academy offers education and training that only humans can receive elsewhere.
“My hope is that the rest of the human world will learn from Convergence’s example, that they’ll see that they can and should live alongside pokémon in harmony and equality. This community may very well be the starting point for a greatly-needed change in human-pokémon relations—perhaps then, pokémon will be respected by humans, rather than disregarded, exploited, and abused as we’ve all too often been in the past. Now do you see what makes Convergence great?”
Solonn could only nod in response, still quite absorbed in what Jal’tai had just told him about the state of relations between humans and the other peoples of the world.
Jal’tai offered to take him to lunch at a local restaurant, and he accepted. Along the way, he was shown how the pokémon citizens of Convergence used technological conveniences invented by humans to go about their everyday lives—a privilege they’d be denied in the human world, according to Jal’tai.
Once they’d reached the restaurant and were served their respective meals, Jal’tai went on about the apparent schism between humans and other intelligent species.
“As I was saying,” the latios said as he paused momentarily in his enjoyment of his fish platter, “the way pokémon are perceived by humans desperately needs to be changed. Did you know that most humans don’t realize—or else deny—that pokémon are intelligent beings?”
Solonn looked up from the steak that had been served to him; he still hadn’t touched it. “…No,” he responded, sounding troubled. “No, I didn’t know that.”
Jal’tai nodded sadly. “It’s true. The majority of humans regard pokémon not as people, but as mere animals,” he told Solonn, vehemence coloring his words and shining in his eyes.
“Gods… How could they see us that way?” Solonn wondered aloud.
The latios sighed sorrowfully. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself for many years—to no avail, I’m afraid. All I know for certain is that they must be made to see the truth if pokémon are to receive the treatment we deserve from their kind.”
Jal’tai resumed his meal then, leaving Solonn to muse on all that he’d just learned. It disturbed and saddened him to think that most humans could regard pokémon so poorly. But he also couldn’t help but think of Morgan—she’d always treated Solonn and her other pokémon with respect, not as inferiors. If she could respect pokémon, then maybe the humans who didn’t could learn to do so, too. Maybe, Solonn considered, there was hope for the relations between humanity and the rest of the world’s peoples.
At length, Solonn finally forced himself to eat his steak. Shortly thereafter, he suddenly became incredibly tired—he suspected the trials of the prior evening were finally taking their toll on him. When he mentioned this to Jal’tai, the latios agreed, and he brought Solonn to a nearby hotel to get some much-needed rest.
Solonn fell into a profoundly deep sleep just as soon as he entered his suite, and he stayed asleep until late in the following morning when he was awakened by a series of loud, shrill beeps followed by the sound of a computerized voice.
“Receiving message,” the voice said coolly.
Solonn only distantly noted those words, not quite absorbing them, as he was still in the process of waking up. He was slightly more conscious when another, more familiar voice spoke up.
“Solonn? Are you awake?” the latios asked.
Stifling a yawn, Solonn rose from the floor and turned toward the source of Jal’tai’s voice but saw no one. A second later, once he was fully awake, he spotted the paging device on the nearby table, and he remembered being told he could use it to call Jal’tai—apparently it also worked the other way around.
“Yeah, I’m awake,” he finally answered.
“Good, good,” Jal’tai said brightly. “Is it all right if I come and pay you a visit?”
“Hm? Sure, go ahead,” Solonn said.
“Ah, very well, then,” Jal’tai said. “I’ll be right up in a moment.”
“Connection terminated,” said the computerized voice again, and with another beep, the device shut itself off.
Very shortly thereafter, that same voice spoke up again, this time to announce the arrival of a visitor. Bright green light blossomed from a tile on the floor near the wall, then faded as Jal’tai materialized within the suite.
“Good morning,” the latios said amiably. “How are you feeling today?”
“Meh, just fine, I suppose,” Solonn answered. “Still a little tired, but other than that…”
“Hm,” Jal’tai responded, nodding. “Well, I’m glad to hear that you seem to be on the mend. I was concerned about you yesterday, you know,” he said earnestly. “I feared you wouldn’t even make it to the hotel without passing out. Never in my life have I seen someone so suddenly and completely drained of energy… those humans in Lilycove must have put you through a most dreadful ordeal, indeed…”
Solonn only made a small, wordless, affirmative noise in response.
“Well, at least you managed to escape from those scoundrels,” Jal’tai said. “You’ve certainly been spared a most unpleasant fate… Do you have any idea what their motives might have been in taking you?”
Solonn hesitated to answer. Yes, he knew why he’d been taken—and in the wake of finding out, he was especially wary of bringing it up.
But as he thought about it, he wondered if there was really any danger in confiding in Jal’tai. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d trusted someone with his secret—he’d deemed Morgan and her pokémon safe, and he still felt that had been a sound judgment, even considering what had happened the day before he’d come to Convergence. His abilities had only gotten him into trouble after strangers had stumbled upon his secret on their own.
Jal’tai didn’t come across as untrustworthy, really. The latios had made it clear he disapproved of pokémon being mistreated and exploited—he seemed like one of the last people who’d ever make Solonn sorry to confide in him. And since Jal’tai was this city’s leader, perhaps he had the authority to ensure that the wrong people never happened upon Solonn’s secret again.
Solonn hesitated for one last moment; then, “They wanted me…” he began, “because I can do something that apparently very few pokémon can do… I can speak to humans. In their own language.” He sighed bitterly. “The humans who tried to take me wanted to show me off because of it, as a freak,” he told Jal’tai, that last word more hissed than spoken.
Jal’tai looked utterly appalled. “Sickening,” he hissed. “Absolutely deplorable… what you possess is a gift; you should be honored for it, not exploited…”
At length, Jal’tai drew a long breath, trying to calm himself, then released it on a sorrowful sigh. “I’m afraid such troubles come with the territory of your talents,” he said soberly, closing his eyes and folding his hands. “I know it all too well myself…” He met Solonn’s gaze directly. “It’s true that exceedingly few possess the Speech—the ability to communicate universally. As such, I thought I might never find another who had this ability in common with me.”
Solonn stared speechlessly back at Jal’tai for seconds on end. He hadn’t been expecting to come across someone who shared his linguistic abilities, either. Now he was certain he’d done the right thing by telling the latios his secret. Jal’tai was a kindred spirit—if anyone could be trusted, it was him.
“So, this thing… this ‘Speech’, as you called it… it’s gotten you into trouble, too?” Solonn asked, earning a nod from the latios in response. “Was the trouble with humans?”
“Not exclusively,” Jal’tai answered, “but mostly, yes. Hence the need for a bit of deceptiveness on my part, I’m afraid. Observe…”
Solonn watched the latios, having no idea what to expect. A strange, shimmering glow surrounded Jal’tai, blurring his form until it was no longer recognizable. The light brightened momentarily, then began to take shape once more as it faded.
Once it was gone completely, the latios had apparently gone with it. An elderly, goateed human in a brown suit stood there instead—the man pictured on the sign at Whitley’s.
“This is what the citizens of Convergence, as well as those with whom I do business outside of town, see when they look at me” he said. “To them, I’m a human by the name of Rolf Whitley—I virtually never work under my true identity. I lament that I must appear to the people as something and someone I’m not—it shouldn’t have to be this way, but…”
He sighed. “You see, as a pokémon who can speak human languages, humans may view me as a curiosity—a freak, as you so aptly put it,” Jal’tai explained, clear distaste in his voice. “They won’t listen to or respect something that they regard in such a demeaning way. But as a human who can speak pokémon language, I’m not seen as a freak, but merely gifted. It’s a shameful double standard, but it’s the reality for people like us, I’m afraid.”
With another brief shimmering of light all around him, Jal’tai resumed his true form. “So you see, that guise is how I’m able to not only live with my gift in peace but to use it to do good in this world.”
He turned toward Solonn. “You know, this place, this embodiment of all that I believe in… it couldn’t have been made possible if I didn’t have the Speech,” he then said. “Because this is a community for both pokémon and humans, its leader must be able to deal with both equally. Thus this office demands the Speech, meaning that there are very few who could take care of this city’s needs.”
An unreadable expression suddenly over took Jal’tai’s features, but Solonn was given little time to look upon it or to wonder about it before Jal’tai turned away from him. A very long and rather awkward silence followed.
Eventually, Jal’tai turned back, looking distinctly uneasy. “Solonn…” he began, “I would like to know if…” He faltered, unable to complete the sentence. “No,” he said in a subdued voice a moment later, “no, I just couldn’t ask such a thing of you…”
Solonn’s brows drew together, the light in his eyes flickering slightly in concern. “…What is it?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”
Jal’tai only gazed back at him in silence for a time, looking almost guilty. Even once he did respond, he spoke with clear reluctance.
“I’m… well, I’m not a young dragon anymore,” he said quietly. “I won’t be around to take care of this city forever… I love Convergence, Solonn,” he all but whispered. “I worry for its future… I don’t know what will become of this place without me. Who will watch over this city when I’m gone?”
Solonn didn’t know how to respond to that at first. Then he realized just what the latios was saying. “Are… are you saying you want me to take your place?” he asked, his eyes wide.
“Well…” the latios responded with something of a delay, “as I said, only those who are blessed with the Speech are qualified to guide and maintain this community. And as I also mentioned, I hadn’t expected that I’d ever find another such person. I’ve been fretting over the matter of who could replace me—and what might become of Convergence and its mission if no one suitable could be found…”
Quite overwhelmed, Solonn suddenly needed to sit down. “…I don’t know what to say…”
“I don’t imagine I would, either, if I were in your position,” Jal’tai said quietly.
“I mean… I understand what you’re worried about, but… are you sure there’s no one else you could ask?” Solonn asked, having trouble geting the words out.
“I honestly can’t say for certain,” the latios answered, “but the odds are very much against it.”
With every passing second, Solonn felt more cornered by the matter. How the guilt had overtaken him so swiftly and strongly, and precisely where it had even come from, he couldn’t guess, but there it was, impossible to deny. He understood Jal’tai’s dilemma, and he genuinely cared… but still…
“…I don’t know,” he said guiltily, “This isn’t a minor matter—I mean, you’re thinking of putting me in charge of an entire city?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Jal’tai… I don’t know if I have it in me.”
“There’s no need to worry where that’s concerned,” Jal’tai said softly. “I assure you that you’d be adequately educated and prepared to take up these responsibilities.”
The latios’s already troubled expression suddenly became even moreso. “Solonn… there is one more thing I need to tell you before you commit yourself one way or another to my offer. I demonstrated how I disguise myself as a human in order to live and work with the Speech safely. You’d have to take on a human identity as well if you took my office. But since you’re not endowed with the power to project a mirage over yourself… well, you’d have to come by your disguise by another means. The only other method by which you could pass for a human… is to actually become one.”
“…What?” Solonn thought he must surely have misheard the latios. “You can’t be serious!”
“I am serious, Solonn,” Jal’tai said. “In order to replace me as the mayor of this city, you will have to be physically transformed into a human.”
“But… how is that even possible?”
“There’s an elemental technique that has been practiced by my people for millennia—namely the transfigure technique—that enables the user to change the form of another thing or person,” Jal’tai explained. “Allow me to demonstrate…”
Jal’tai left the room for a moment. When he returned, he was carrying a small decorative pillow in his talons. “Watch carefully,” he said, then set the pillow down on the floor. He extended his arms, keeping his talons rigid over the pillow. Slowly, spheres of mint-green light swelled around his hands; soon after, an aura of the same color surrounded the pillow.
The light began strobing; Solonn winced, his eyes narrowing to slits to fend off the flashing light. He fought to keep them from closing despite the discomfort, determined to see if Jal’tai could really do what he claimed. To his astonishment, Solonn saw the pillow warping, shifting somewhat jerkily and unevenly into another shape.
With one final flash of green light and one last metamorphic spasm, the pillow was no more. Right before Solonn’s eyes, it had been transfigured into a plant sitting in an earthen pot, its many leafy tendrils spilling out over the rim.
“And that’s how it’s done,” Jal’tai said, sounding somewhat winded, as he picked up the potted plant and examined it briefly. He cast a quick look up at the ceiling. “This would look rather nice right about there, I think…” he remarked, then set the plant back down and turned back toward Solonn once more.
Solonn, meanwhile, stared dumbstruck at the plant. “Oh gods…” he said almost voicelessly. He’d risen from the floor without realizing it and was now starting to back away from the plant.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Jal’tai assured him. “If you choose to accept the change, I’ll do everything in my power to make it as non-traumatic as I can. If you wish, I can render you unconscious during the actual transfiguration. You’d experience no discomfort whatsoever. Afterward, I promise that I’ll help you become accustomed to your new form. Furthermore—” He inclined his head slightly further toward Solonn. “—the change isn’t permanent. It will wear off after about eight to ten years… perhaps by that time, such masquerades will no longer be needed in this world.”
Those reassurances fell short of comforting Solonn, and Jal’tai recognized this. “I know physical transformation isn’t something to be taken lightly, but it’s also something you’ve had some prior experience with, is it not? Yours is an evolved form—perhaps you should try looking at this as just another stage of evolution.”
Jal’tai was right in one sense: this wasn’t the first time that Solonn had faced a possible transformation. But Solonn hadn’t accepted his last change hastily; he’d only agreed to go through with it once it had truly seemed necessary. Furthermore, after comparing his memory of evolution with the process he’d just beheld, he was quite certain they’d be two very different experiences.
“This is just… all too much,” Solonn said finally, wearily, as he set himself back down.
“I understand,” Jal’tai said softly. “I wouldn’t expect anyone to make such a major decision in any hurry.” He began to glide past Solonn, moving toward the transport tile, but turned back before activating it.
“You can stay here as long as you like,” he told Solonn. “And when you come to a decision regarding what I’ve offered you, please call me and let me know. I won’t force you to decide one way or another… but I do ask that you consider what’s at the heart of this matter. This community was born in the name of a better future, one in which the schism between humanity and all the other peoples of the world is bridged at last. Ask yourself: is this not a future that should become a reality?”
Solonn winced, feeling as though a large weight had just dropped into his stomach. He did want to see equality between humans and pokémon, but there was still the matter of what acting on that desire here would require of him. He couldn’t even begin to decide what to do.
He finally pried his eyes away from the plant and turned quickly to face Jal’tai and ask how he was supposed to deal with these conflicting notions, but saw only a flash of green light. The latios had already gone, leaving him alone with the weight of this decision.
For the rest of the day, Solonn’s thoughts were monopolized by Jal’tai’s offer, and it kept him awake throughout the night. He agreed with the latios’s mission, and he couldn’t deny that he truly wanted to help. But to become a human… how could he readily accept something that he could barely believe?
As hour after hour went by, bringing the morning and then midday, Solonn’s thoughts turned toward some of the things his own experience had taught him about the way humans tended to view and treat pokémon. Humans had wanted to profit from his abilities—and they hadn’t been content to take him alone. He thought about the rest of Morgan’s pokémon, whose condition and whereabouts were still unknown. He thought about Morgan herself, separated from some of her closest friends, shaken and crying the last time he’d seen her.
If enough humans could be made to respect pokémon, then perhaps scenarios like that one would never happen again.
The glalie’s eyes drifted toward the paging device. There was his answer, it seemed. He’d been given an opportunity to do something that could significantly benefit the world—he had to take it, he decided then, even if the knowledge of what it would require still terrified him.
He felt heavier than usual as he ascended, as though his body were less than willing to rise from the ground. With his heart hammering, he glided across the room until he found himself looking down upon the paging device. Once he’d remembered how to operate it, he used it to call Jal’tai.
“Yes? What is it, my boy?” Jal’tai said once the connection went through.
“…I’ll do it,” Solonn spat out before his trepidation could foil him.
Jal’tai didn’t respond right away; Solonn feared that perhaps he’d been too vague. But then, “All right, then,” the latios said simply, then hung up.
In virtually no time, Jal’tai arrived at the suite, entering by way of the transport tile and immediately bringing himself before Solonn.
“I know this wasn’t an easy decision for you,” Jal’tai said, “but in the end, you’ve made the right choice.” He gave a warm, proud smile. “We and our efforts will go down in history, Solonn. And someday, pokémon throughout the world will thank you for your selfless actions here.”
They were nice words, Solonn thought, but the glalie wasn’t feeling quite as long-sighted at the moment as Jal’tai was. He couldn’t really look to the future and any praise and appreciation that lay there—he could only see the present and what it was about to bring, and he really just wanted it to be over and done.
“Do you want me to put you under for the transfiguration?” Jal’tai asked him.
An image of the pillow’s rather spasmodic transformation entered Solonn’s mind, along with an unbidden sense of what such a process might actually feel like, and he shuddered. “Please do,” he responded quickly.
Jal’tai nodded in acknowledgment, then moved forward and placed his talons on top of the glalie’s head, shuddering a bit at how cold it felt. “There will only be a moment’s discomfort,” he assured Solonn.
Solonn gazed nervously into Jal’tai’s eyes for a moment, hoping the latios was right—and then his vision and his consciousness were extinguished in an instant by something that sent a shock through his skull and a burst of red light to the back of his eyes.
When Solonn awakened, the scene surrounding him had changed. He knew at once that he was seeing through different eyes, eyes that were much weaker and more limited in their range than his old ones. He shifted slightly, feeling soft surfaces all around him as his limbs stretched—yes, his limbs. Jal’tai’s technique had worked—Solonn was now a human.
He lifted his head and saw that he was presently lying in bed. The sheets that covered him prevented him from seeing most of his new form; he pushed them aside with one of his newly-formed arms to have a look at what he’d become.
Somehow, seeing the human body that he now possessed actually made it harder to believe that the change had really happened.
A shadow fell over him; he looked up and to his left and saw Jal’tai there, smiling gently as he hovered in place.
“The transfiguration was a complete success,” the latios said. “Here—have a look at your new face with this,” he suggested, then offered Solonn a small hand mirror. The human took the mirror, and after a moment’s fumbling with it, he managed to catch his own reflection in the glass. “Do you like it?” Jal’tai then asked.
Solonn wasn’t quite sure what to make of his new face; he could still hardly believe he even had it. He responded to Jal’tai’s question with a noncommittal noise.
“Well, given time, I’m sure you’ll get used to it,” the latios said as he took the mirror back from Solonn. “Come now,” he said, offering Solonn a talon to help him up out of bed. “Let me show you around your new home and help you start getting used to your new form.”
Not knowing what else to do, Solonn took Jal’tai’s hand. He let the latios give him a tour of the suite, hoping all the while that he really would get used to this new way of life eventually.
On each day that followed, Jal’tai paid Solonn a visit, during which he helped Solonn learn human habits. He brought a series of instructional videos that demonstrated the ways of human life, and he gave Solonn extra tutelage on certain points of those lessons. While some human practices seemed strange (particularly where hygiene was concerned), he didn’t resist his education, picking up the new habits quickly enough for Jal’tai’s liking.
Things carried on fairly smoothly in this manner until the eighth day following Solonn’s transfiguration. Jal’tai had just left after giving a brief lecture to supplement a segment on one of the DVDs, specifically about the concept of money. Solonn was sitting in the den, reviewing that segment and trying out of semi-boredom to memorize whose portrait was on each denomination of the paper notes, when a sudden, incredibly strong pain awakened in his head, completely without warning.
Solonn shouted in pain and alarm, wondering what in the world could be happening to him. It worsened with each passing second, making flashing spots explode in his vision and shooting a bolt of nausea down his throat.
Certain that something was terribly wrong, he tried to call Jal’tai, hoping the latios could get help for him. He reached for the paging device—but as he did so, a powerful spasm tore through his body. His outstretched arm flailed wildly, knocking the device to the floor.
He tried to pick it back up, but he still hadn’t quite regained control of his muscles. No sooner had he risen from his chair than he collapsed to the floor—and he didn’t get back up. The last thing Solonn was aware of before he blacked out completely was a blurred, sideways view of the paging device lying just inches away.
* * *
Jal’tai emerged from his trance, having constructed and packaged a chain of memories to replace the ones he’d quarantined. He allowed himself a couple of minutes’ worth of rest before rising and returning to the table where his subject lay.
Once again, he entered the human’s mind and immediately sought out the chronological telltales that identified the memory directly preceding the ones he’d locked away, showing him where the new memories were to be placed. Very carefully, Jal’tai implanted the chain, made certain its connections to the preceding memories were secure, then left the human’s mind once more.
The procedure was finished. Anxious anticipation spread through Jal’tai’s nerves as he looked upon Solonn, wondering if the work he’d just done had secured the human as a successor or if it had done quite the opposite.
This was the moment of truth, Jal’tai knew. He needed to see if interferening with Solonn’s mind had robbed the human of the Speech. Focusing his psychic abilities, he stirred Solonn’s consciousness within the confines of liasa andielenne without truly awakening it. The human shifted slightly in his shackles, turning his still-blank eyes toward Jal’tai. Solonn was now in a state in which he’d respond to stimuli and commands while being utterly unaware of doing so.
“Solonn,” Jal’tai addressed him. He held up one hand and pointed two claws toward his own eyes. “What am I pointing at?”
Solonn maintained his empty stare at the latios for a brief moment. Then, “Vhekahr’syin sierahs hivhassen,” he responded inflectionlessly.
Glalie language, Jal’tai noted, unsurprised. Solonn had spoken his own language almost exclusively in all the time Jal’tai had known him; he wasn’t one to “show off” his linguistic abilities. But this situation was one that required Solonn to do just that.
“Solonn, this time you will answer in my language,” Jal’tai instructed, then indicated his eyes once again. He’d never heard Solonn speak in lati language and was certain that the former glalie had never done so. If Solonn could respond in this language, it would be a good indication that his abilities had survived the psychic procedure. “What am I pointing at?” he repeated.
Like the last time, there was a delay in Solonn’s response, but it was longer than before—Jal’tai feared that the human wouldn’t be able to respond as instructed. But then, much to Jal’tai’s immense relief, “Catelisi adiele setali assiria,” Solonn answered.
“Oh… oh, thank the Goddess!” Jal’tai exclaimed almost breathlessly, so overjoyed with relief that he broke into tears. The procedure was a complete success—Solonn now possessed memories that would allow him to accept his new purpose, and he’d kept the skills that would allow him to serve it.
Jal’tai released Solonn from both the hypnotic state and liasa andielenne, allowing the human to become fully unconscious at last. “Rest well, my boy,” Jal’tai said softly. “You’ve certainly earned it.”
Smiling, Jal’tai turned and drifted over to his shrine to Rei’eli. Once there, he reached for the potted autillia flowers and closed his talons around a pair of them, allowing them to fall apart in his hands. He looked up at the serene face of his goddess as he held handfuls of petals over the fountain, an almost rapturous gratitude written all over his face.
Thank you, Jal’tai prayed silently and sincerely. With all my heart, I thank you. With that, he let the petals fall from his hands, drifting gently down into the water in a symbolic return of the power that his goddess had lent him.
* * *
“…which came back negative, thankfully… Oh look, he’s awake!”
Solonn awoke to the sound of the cheerful voice that had just spoken and was greeted with a somewhat blurry view of its owner: standing nearby was a chansey, who was looking at him and smiling. He also awoke to a splitting headache.
“Oh good, good!” said another voice, a much more familiar one. “Could you give the two of us a moment, Miss Teresa?”
“Of course,” the chansey replied amiably, then left the room, her tail waving behind her as she waddled away.
Groaning softly, Solonn rubbed his eyes to clear them, then cast a glance about himself, confused. He found that he was lying in a simple bed in a sterile, white room. He also found that he wasn’t alone; seated at his bedside was an elderly man: Jal’tai in his human guise, Solonn recognized with a slight delay.
“Good morning,” Jal’tai said warmly. “Or, to be more accurate, good late morning,” he amended with a chuckle. “Feeling all right?”
“Ugh… not really,” Solonn answered groggily. “Gods, my head hurts…”
“Hmm,” Jal’tai responded, sounding concerned. “Well, that’s nothing a little aspirin won’t cure, I’d reckon.”
Solonn cradled his aching head in his hands for a moment, hoping he’d be given some of this “aspirin” as soon as possible. “Where am I?” he then asked.
“You’re in the Haven, Solonn,” Jal’tai told him, “our city’s medical center. I brought you here after I found you unconscious on the floor in your suite. I’ve been so worried about you, my boy,” he said earnestly, concern etched into the deep lines of his aged, presently-human face. “You were out cold for nearly four days.”
With some difficulty amid the pain, Solonn managed to recall the last evening he’d spent in that suite. A headache that was even worse than the one he was suffering now had struck him, and then he’d passed out. “What in the world happened to me back there?” he asked. “Gods, it scared me half to death…”
“I’m afraid what you experienced was a side effect of your transfiguration,” Jal’tai said. “That sort of a change can put a lot of stress on a body, and sometimes that stress can sneak up and hit you all at once—sometimes immediately, sometimes with a bit of a delay, but usually never.”
He sighed. “What you experienced is a rare occurrence indeed; I truthfully hadn’t expected it to happen. It usually only follows transfigurations performed by less-than-skilled users… I assure you that I’m well-practiced in the art, but I fear that age may have deteriorated my skills somewhat. I sincerely apologize for your suffering,” he said somberly, lowering his head.
“Mmm,” Solonn said dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. You said you hadn’t expected this to happen.”
Jal’tai gave a small, reserved smile. “You’re too kind,” he said gratefully. “Anyhow… as I mentioned, this is a very rare occurrence, and as such, I don’t expect it to happen again. But just to be safe, I’ve enlisted the services of someone whose abilities should help you stay relaxed and well in both body and mind. Her name is Neleng, and I’ve made an appointment for her to come and visit you tonight. She can also offer a session any and every night after if you wish.”
“Okay,” Solonn said, grateful for anything that might prevent him from going through this nightmare again.
Jal’tai stood then—or more accurately, his human mirage stood. “So, then. Do you think you’re up to resuming your education?”
“Yeah… yeah, I think so,” Solonn answered. “Although I think I’d like to get some of that ‘aspirin’ you were talking about first,” he added.
Jal’tai laughed brightly. “Ah, good,” he said, smiling. “Yes, I think we can safely say that all the unpleasantness is behind you now.”
* * *
Not long after he’d awakened, Solonn was released from the Haven. He stepped out into the early afternoon under an overcast sky. A light rain was falling, making pattering noises against the wide, burgundy umbrella Jal’tai had given him. Jal’tai’s human mirage held an identical umbrella, but whether the latios was actually holding one or simply projecting an image of one and letting the rain fall on him without a care, Solonn couldn’t tell.
A long, sleek, black car waited in the parking lot in front of the hospital; as Jal’tai and Solonn approached it, a uniformed human stepped out and opened a door in the back for each of them. Solonn got in and took a seat right away. Meanwhile Jal’tai merely projected his human mirage into the vehicle while he hovered above the car outside. The chauffeur closed the doors, then took his seat behind the wheel. Jal’tai’s mirage smiled at Solonn from its place beside him as they set off toward the Convergence Inn.
Solonn stared idly out the window during the ride, watching the urban scenery race past through a veil of autumn rain. As he did so, a peculiar notion came over him: a question of how he’d gotten there, how things had come to be as they presently were. He was briefly puzzled by it, but then dismissed the momentary confusion as a temporary malfunction of his mental faculties, some brief and harmless aftereffect of his recent malady that might never happen again. He gave it no further thought, just glad and grateful that the worst of it was over, and serenely let the wheels carry him home.
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I'm here to chew hearts and break bubblegum. Wait, shit, that came out wrong.
