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Old June 18th, 2009 (12:05 PM). Edited July 9th, 2009 by Manaphyman.
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Manaphyman Manaphyman is offline
Sevii Trainer
Join Date: Nov 2008
Location: Connecticut, USA
Gender: Male
Nature: Relaxed
Posts: 36
Chapter 6- Kindling the Flame Within

“God damn it!” John cursed allowed, startling Eevee in his arms. She shuffled around to face her master; her auburn earns tickling his armpits. She stared at him with her deep crimson eyes, moving her head into a jackknife position to appear cute.

< Don’t curse John. It’s not becoming. > She purred, playfully placing her paws on his shirt. They were still small and delicate, harboring claws that were still too tiny to pierce skin.

Calm, John bowed his head towards the Pokémon, kissing the top of her head. Pleased, Eevee moved back to her original position, resting her head on John’s lanky forearm.

“Dude, we better hurry up,” George panted, slowly shuffling his legs up the crumbling sand that was the ever rising cliffside. They were slowly getting closer to their destination: Mt. Ember.

“Magby, I can’t carry you anymore, get back in your Pokéball,” the red-haired boy whined, dropping the Pokémon on the earth and withdrawing it to its Ball. Panting, he sat down on a near by outcropping of sandstone.

“Let’s rest a moment,” he complained, panting heavily, sweat drenching his navy blue ‘Four Island Yankees’ shirt.

John looked around from their position-the view was incredible. They currently were perched on a rather narrow strip of sandstone which rose up from Kindle Road, a treacherous but shorter way to get to the mountain top. This way they would bypass all of the tourist traffic at the hot springs and at the Moltres Memorial.

The day was still young; it was only 2:30, but it also happened to be the absolute worst time to be outside in the Sevii Islands, for the heat of the day was starting to cease the tropical paradise. Temperatures in the summer could often reach 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and being in direct sunlight (which they were), in a seemingly desert-like area was just begging for trouble.

Normally, the fact that there was not even a single cloud in the sky would be a good thing, but now, even the brief and partial shade that would have been received with a cirrus cloud would be welcome. Even the rough sea around the islands looked appealing from that distance, its crystal clear beauty enticing them like a deadly Chimeco.

“Alright dude, you have five minutes, and then we have to keep moving,” John ordered, sitting down straight on the sand. The force at which he sat sent a cloud of dust into the air, briefly choking the exhausted boys.

“****. Wingull, help us out here,” he called, pressing the button on the Pokéball hitched to his belt. The seagull Pokémon responded, appearing in a flash of light and energy. Its folded wings and crooked beak made the Pokémon look suddenly less appealing, and the group questioned John’s reasoning at withdrawing it.

“Gull, can you do me a favor?” the boy asked as he buried his head into his shirt, whipping the multiple beads of sweat that had been dripping off his messy black hair.

<Sure, what to you want me to do?> the Pokémon asked, flying a few inches above John’s head. He was circling as if he was searching for a target area to do his business.

“Well first, lets not **** on my head, and second, do you think you could shoot a few water guns up into the air near us?” John asked in a humorous tone. His immature friends laughed at his usage of the curse word: “shit.”

<Sure, I’ll see what I can do.> Wingull replied, flying a few yards into the parched air, into the direction of the sun. It stopped, focused, and sure enough, shot pressurized water high into the air. It increased in height for a significant amount of time, until it lost velocity, halting and ultimately reversing direction; cascading down to the boys, refreshing them. The water soaked each of them, giving them the energy to overcome the rest of the mountain.

John returned Wingull and stood up, soaked and refreshed. He tousled his hair, and beckoned his friends to continue up the mountain.

“Let’s go gentlemen,” he called, walking a few yards in front of the others.

“Why are we in such a big hurry anyway?” Mike whined, dragging his feet, which kicked up an abundance of dirt and sand.

“You pick those feet up or I’m going to push you off of this ****ing cliff,” John yelled at his friend, dirt nearly choking him for the second time.

Mike immediately picked up his feet and walked normally, taking what John said seriously.

“I was just kidding man, I just don’t take too kindly to choking, ya know?” the boy apologized, much to Eevee’s approval.

“Its fine, but you never answered my question. Where the **** are we going and why are we in such a damn hurry?” Mike asked, moving some of his flat brown hair out of his eyes.

“Lorelei said she was going to capture Moltres, for that prophecy thingy. I thought it would be pretty damn awesome to see a rare Pokémon like that, don’t you?” John revealed.

The faces of his friends lit up in excitedly, giving them the necessary motivation to proceed up the remaining quarter mile. John reasoned that they would take the long way home, and avoid the hellish walk down a possibly dark and steep sandstone cliff.

With a little more horrific walking, they reached what appeared to be the entrance to Moltres’ domain. What first tipped them off were the small embers dotting the now ominous stones surrounding them. Next, was the large entrance way that appeared as they tuned the corner.

Its entrance was reminiscent of a cave, except with a large marble frame. On the head of the frame lay an inscription.

Born of fire, raised from ash: Here lies the Redeemer of the Sword.

“Shouldn’t there be some guards?” Joey asked; the others fixated on the inscription.

“Lorelei must have dismissed them. She’s probably in there right now,” John whispered, suddenly becoming very reverent of the area they were in.

“What do you think the sign means?” Joey asked bluntly.

“Well it obviously has something to do with the swords Lorelei was telling us about,” John paused, rummaging his brain for information, “All I can think of are the three books of the Bible: Redeemer, Protector, and Savior. I dunno. There’s probably more to this thing than we’ll ever know.”

The group paused for a moment in a contemplative silence, perhaps making their own secret opinion of what ‘Redeemer’ meant, or perhaps to build up the courage to pass through the hallowed entrance.

“I’m going in.” Mike said, clenching his fists. He had a look of confidence and determination in his eyes.

He was the only one though, as the three other skittishly followed him, and even then, from a distance. There were too many variables for John to be comfortable with this, what if Lorelei wasn’t there? Or what if Moltres had been too much for her?

The marble door post was not unique; apparently the marble encased the entire tunnel that they were walking through. Torches were hanging on each side, lighting the still cruddy sandstone floor. It suddenly became much hotter, as they were entering into the massive dormant volcano, or at least into the magma-less portion.

As quick as it began, the tunnel ceased to exist, now opening into the inside of the large cone. The sandstone had changed over to a mix of rugged black and pure red rock, the area becoming much less jagged and a lot smoother. The tunnel had led them to an even narrower path that jutted out into the middle of the crater itself. None of them were brave enough to proceed any further, a reasonable assertion considering they were quite high up, and a fall would plunge them into searing magma.

The inside of the crater was absolutely magnificent, smooth basalt and porous pumice hanging off of the walls, light filtering in through the hole a hundred yards above them. Far below them lay darkness, lit only by the gentle hue of magma many hundreds of yards down. The multiple rock types made for a unique dark red color, which coated nearly everything in site.

Before them though, was by far the most interesting. A tall, female figure stood on the edge of the path the bright red Pokéball clutched in her hand complimenting both her pink ensemble and the color of their surroundings.

“Where are you?” She screamed loudly, obviously frustrated.

No answer.

She clenched her fists and lifted her head, seemingly screaming at the heavens.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” She screamed again.

Still, nothing.

“Moltres…” John whispered, an enigmatic aura ceasing him.

The ground shook violently, each one of the boys grabbing on to another for dear life. The magma below them began to rise; the heat emanating from it become even more intense.

“We gotta get out of here!” Mike yelled, scurrying for the door. John held him back.

“No! Moltres needs to be in the presence of one who needs redemption in order for it to appear. We need to stay here, its one of us!” he yelled in response, over the deafening roar now echoing throughout the crater.

An explosion of lava and fire shot forth in front of them, consuming the open area within the dome. It briefly illuminated the area below, before plummeting down back into the abyss.

A fiery mass though, emerged from the fallen magma. It unfolded its wings, which remained on fire, and lifted its pointed head. Its sleek body and talons emerged from the inferno as it opened its elongated yellow beak.

Its roar filled the chamber, giving the group a sense of mortality and worldliness.

Moltres, the Phoenix, the being of Redemption and second-chances, had appeared.

Lorelei looked back at the group, her face plastered with both fear and realization. She expanded the Pokéball and through it at the beast.

“Why is she not weakening it first?” George asked, puzzled.

“She’s using a Sliph Master Ball, it catches it without fail,” John explained. He hadn’t seen an actual, working Master Ball ever before. There was supposedly only a few in the known World, and they were incredibly expensive.

The phoenix fell into a beam of blood red light, which was progressively sucked into the purple Master Ball. The ball was almost telekinetically sent back to Lorelei’s hand. Moltres had been successfully captured.

Lorelei then proceeded to run down the causeway towards the group. She motioned for them all to leave, and continued through the marble tunnel. They all emerged into the searing sunlight panting.

“John…” She breathed, amazed. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be redeemed?”

“Me?” the boy asked, confused and scared. Redeeming meant he would have to do something horrific, almost beyond comprehension.

“You don’t know the story of the Redeemer?” she asked, “Well I’ll tell you then. Legend has it that the three closest disciples to Emmanuel were crucified after writing their Gospels.
After they were killed, God let Arceus resurrect them as three legendary birds that protect the balance of the elements in our environment. Each bird, in their life as a disciple, had a specific trait they were famous for. Mathew Art was the savior of our religion; he wrote the first gospel and spread the religion against adversity. Mark Zap was the protector of the gospels and ancient artifacts, as well as the protector of the other disciples. John Mol was the one who baptized, and preformed last rights and confessions.”

“That’s incredible….but what does it have to do with me?” John asked.

“Well, since you are the person that awakened Moltres, it means you have to be redeemed,” She said, now confused.

“But what would I have to be redeemed of? What did I do Aunt Lorelei?” he asked, butterflies scurrying in his stomach. His heartbeat began to speed up, his palms becoming sweaty.

“Maybe it wasn’t you at all. Maybe you inherited it from your Grandfather,” she suggested, seemingly coming to a realization.

“What did he do?” John asked, surprised. His Grandfather was essentially a saint.

“He didn’t do what you need to do now,” she replied.

“What?” He shot back, confused.

“Slowking, teleport,” Lorelei commanded, her body slowly phasing into the area around them.

“Aunt Lorelei! Wait! What did he do?” the boy asked, becoming frantic. Tears began welling up in his auburn eyes.

He looked around at his confused friends, who just stood there, flabbergasted. They didn’t know how to react, especially his cousin, Mike. It was a bombshell for the two grandchildren.

What could he have done?

Authors Notes:

Three chapters without a reply here? Heh. This one was rather short, but the plot really starts to kick in.
The Sevii Islands Saga
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