The Illusion

The Illusion Part of Arc 2 ← Mission 5 Mission 6 → Release Date May 8, 2012 End Date May 12, 2012 Author(s) PreseaFan92 Illustrator(s) PurpleKecleon Links I've been hearing things... seeing things Pardon me, Rescuers They're gone forever, aren't they...? Original

Merchant Tent, evening.

Ruins. Everything seemed to be in ruins. The Merchants' guild wasn't even a shadow of its former glory; it once stood tall upon Tao Village with the Kecleon-eye windows keeping a close vigil on each and every building. But now? Shattered glass was spread across the grounds even still. The Kecleon eye windows were blinded by the darkness of the blizzard, its cores broken into hundreds of pieces. Holes were dappled across the buildings—rips and tears spread like Poffin butter on the once glorious tent. Shreds of cloth were spread about the floor like garbage, damp from the still, humid air.

If one looked up from inside the tent, they could see the blue-grey sky staring right back at them, blanketed with thick grey clouds and patches of darkness here and there. The air was as thick and heavy as the clouds, a harbinger of the coming rain. And yet, one Pokémon still plopped through the mess that was the Merchants' tent, wandering around, picking up the pieces of cloth as she walked about. The sharp-eyed Kecleon kept alert in the silent air, trying to clean up the rest of the tent while she could. Shards of porcelain teacups scattered about the wooden floors—each one was a reminder to her of something, someone long gone.

She hadn't slept much the past few days, and sharp pains were beginning to push at the backs of her usually agile eyes. It came on as a headache, but worsened as it spread to her vision; there was no way she would stop, though. Not now, not for a very long time. Not until everything was fixed and back to normal.

The Kecleon sat at the old wooden table, placing there a map of what would be the new and improved Tao Village. As she sat at her chair, she eyed the glory that the village would soon become, her tail curling with excitement, her black scales taking on a sheen of silver. Her lips curled into a smile when she took a pencil from the side of the table, scribbling here and there, adding another building here or some more improvements to another place there. It would be a spectacle, Tao village would. It would become even more famed than Alomomola City, even more structured than Steel City…It would be perfect.

She muttered to herself every now and then certain thoughts while she scribbled some notes down on her new map. It could always be better, she thought; something could always be better. She would cross things out if they weren't perfect, grumble a bit and move on. It was a daily pattern, this habit of editing the map and making it perfect. She would prove it to them—no, prove it to him—that nothing would stop her. Nothing in the entire world would keep the village—her village—from becoming what she designed it to be.

Her work was continuous as usual. She made sure she was in a spot away from the rain, away from the dark skies of grey that reminded her of the friends she had lost, the mistakes she had made. Her quiet work continued as she scribbled away, that is, until a Miltank crept in through the main curtain of the tent, his eyes filled with worry. He slowly made his way up to the table, careful not to make any sudden sounds or movements—he knew it would set off her temper. He didn't have a need to, however, for she spoke up first, surprising him.

"I've been hearing things…seeing things," the Kecleon said simply. She returned to her work right after muttering that single thought, erasing something as she did. The Miltank was at a loss for words after the thought, trying to keep a strong face for his comrade.

"PK, um..." The Miltank tried to mutter, "Why don't you…I don't know, take a break? Just for a little. It doesn't have to be long, you just…you've been working quite a while." He stood next to PK expectantly, waiting for some kind of short-tempered answer. But that answer never did come. In fact, it was another answer. One that…wasn't quite like her.

"Fine. I need to go…sort things out, anyway," she began, turning her gaze from the map to the Miltank, "Take the map with you, Malt. I don't feel like carrying it." Pushing herself away from the table, she jumped right out of the chair with an agile pep in her step, as if something unknown and ominous was pushing at her to keep moving. Some force in her legs told her to keep on moving, even if she wanted to perfect the almost-perfect design of the village.

"Where are you going?" Malt asked; concern spread over his face like a wave over Alomomola Bay, like the ones the Kecleon had seen often in her childhood. It took her a while to create some kind of excuse, to say something in return. But in the end, she told the truth. Even though it would sound crazy to her new co-leader, she would tell the truth and not regret it.

"Back to Creeping Forest for a bit," the black Kecleon said as if nothing were wrong, "I can hear him there—they're both there." Malt was taken aback by PK's words, did a double take, even—who was she talking about? Why so suddenly? As if by impulse, Malt began to follow the footsteps of the fellow normal-type, taking in the rainy air and watching for any leftover pieces of porcelain.

"Don't follow me," PK turned her head and spoke simply, her usually piercing eyes sharper than knives, "You'll just…I don't even know. Just don't come. I don't want you there." The shock in the Miltank's eyes was unmistakable. His brow was raised in surprise, and his mouth gaped open. But no words came out. He had nothing to say to her simple words that pierced sharper than her very eyes. But he watched her go. She furthered her distance away from the Miltank and left, leaving the tent cloth waving in the rainy evening winds as she left.

He knew he shouldn't follow. He knew he would get in trouble if he did. But something tugged at his will. A familiar voice from nowhere seemed to be beckoning him to follow—"Go," it said, "Find her and save her." But save her from what? He knew nothing of saving anyone. Whatever it was, it strengthened his resolve to go, and follow he did. Malt tiptoed over the broken cloth and porcelain, over the puddles from the leaks in the tent, and into the damp air of the night. A light drizzle laced the air with heaviness, and the dark blue evening sky helped little in making the scene of Tao Village look as comfortable as it did on the blueprint map he held in his hand. Malt's range of sight grew smaller and smaller as the evening wore on; he looked in all directions to see a trace of PK.

But all he saw were a team of Rescuers in the Town Square, talking and enjoying themselves despite the evening rain. He could tell quickly their guild affiliation simply by the way they stood. Proud and tall, seemingly arrogant, almost. The leader, a rather oblivious-looking Ninetales with a lilac ribbon on the back of her neck, seemed to be laughing at her partner, a Turtwig clad in a light blue scarf with a meek little expression on his face. Following them was a fancy-looking Audino, seeming a bit out-of-place in following the two unruly-looking Pokémon. And yet, he figured, the three seemed to be the only hope of finding PK's whereabouts. He hated asking for the assistance of Rescuers, but it mattered little who he asked; if it would help find his fellow merchant, than that was really all he cared about. He called out to the three Pokémon and took a rather quick walk up to them at the square—as soon as he made his way close enough, he realized that the faces of the Ninetales and Turtwig were vaguely familiar—they must have helped evacuate the ranch in the blizzard. They couldn't be that terrible, Malt assumed, if they did that much as Rescuers. Their eyes met quickly and precisely, and it was Malt who was first to speak:

"Pardon me, Rescuers, but I'm looking for someone…You probably know her or have seen her around or something…PK. You know…the merchant guild leader, right? Usually she's purple, but her color's been rather…dark, recently…" Malt asked, trying to describe her in the best way possible. He wasn't sure how familiar the Rescuers would be with another guild's leader, but he tried his best.

"Ooh, you knew we were Rescuers, Cap'n Malt?" the Ninetales gave a blunt smile, making Malt unsure as to how she remembered his name, "How cool! D'you think you can guess my birthday, too?" Malt's smile went from polite to uncomfortable as he shifted his gaze away from the persistent fire-type, her curious eyes gazing straight into the Miltank's.

"I, um…no," Malt's brow furrowed, "That was just a lucky guess…I'm looking for--"

"Miss PK, you said?" the Turtwig interrupted, his head tilted a bit, "I think I did see her somewhere…She went towards Creeping Forest, but I'm not exactly sure which way she went…I wasn't facing her direction when she left…I-I'm sorry, Mr. Malt."

"No, it's quite all right…" Malt put his hooves up as a sign of it being all right, but his gaze turned towards the Audino with the red lace ribbon tired around her ear…she had said nothing the entire time he was there…he figured it wouldn't hurt to ask as he added, "What about you? Did you see her?"

"O-oh, goodness! Me?" asked the Audino, pointing at herself. She nervously shifted her gaze to the right of Malt, visibly nervous from simply being addressed, "I did see someone matching the description…"

"Did you see which way she went, Felicity?" asked the Ninetales, giving an expectant, blasé smile, "I bet you did!" The Miltank's heart rate rose a bit as the Audino nervously tried to think over what she'd seen before Malt encountered them. It took her a few moments to recollect, but when she did, Malt's heart skipped a beat with anxiety.

"Um, well…I believe I did," the fellow normal-type nodded lightly, pointing in one direction, "It couldn't have been too long ago, in fact…I think when she went towards Creeping Forest, it was to the west…I kind of saw her venture into where the sunset is, even though you can't really see much of it in this weather…It was like one of those endings to picture books you read when you're little…something like that."

Strange comments aside, the Miltank had his answer. He bowed to the three Pokémon as if to thank them, even though only one had given him his answer. Being polite was always important, though, no matter what business it was—he always kept that advice to heart, even though the one who said that very phrase hurt his heart to think about. He gave one last polite thank you and left the trio of Rescuers, who continued their nonchalant japery.

As the skies grew darker, so too did the thoughts of the Miltank. Malt's heart raced as he ran in the direction the Audino had pointed him in. But he wouldn't dare think the Kecleon had done the worst to herself—not when she still had so much to do. Then again, the crumpled up, folded map was thrown in his hands before PK left…but it couldn't possibly mean anything terrible like that…could it? The thought made his adrenaline rush at levels he'd never felt before, and by the time he reached the forest, he didn't realize how out of breath he was from running all that way. He didn't even realize there was a strange, groaning sound coming from inside the forest until he stopped. And that sound was all too familiar. It echoed and moaned like a mourning, wailing ghost Pokémon—Malt's eyes widened at the sound, his breaths nervous and heavy.

He knew that voice from anywhere—it had to be PK.

He followed the sound like an angry Tauros on a mission, hell-bent on seeing that his new partner was safe. He refused to let something happen to her now—Malt knew that if he ever came back, there would be no telling what would happen if something were to happen to PK, no sure sign of what Malt's fate would be. Despite his heavy breaths in the rainy canopy, Malt followed the voice until it became louder, its echoes becoming all too real. Deep in an opening of the forest, in a small, rain-covered grove a distance away from Tao Village, there stood PK, talking and wailing to something…or someone. Her cries echoed throughout the entire forest, and her voice was barely audible from where Malt stood. He hid behind a tree, curious to pick up on what PK was talking about, or who she was talking to.

"…No…why did you…that…?! …You…have stayed! Couldn't you…else…?!" echoed the voice, high-pitched and filled with a sobbing sadness. Malt's ears couldn't pick up the entire conversation; he edged closer to another tree, trying not to agitate the brush, lest the sounds be picked up by the fellow merchant. Her words became clearer, with less of an echo—she spoke as if an invisible soul were there, listening to her, even stopping sometimes as if she were being interrupted.

"But you didn't have to go! You picked the worst possible time! Why--" PK stopped, as if someone had truly interrupted her. But no voice came through the canopy—only echoes and moans from the Kecleon, and the windy sounds of the forest floor.

"Yes, yes you did!" she continued on, "You left without warning, Sorbet, and now you leave me with…with this broken up village!"

Malt stood transfixed by the conversation PK was having with herself—he noticed her scales seemed even darker than usual in the rainy forest air, and why, he couldn't help but ask himself, did she mention Sorbet…? He was long gone, now, so why did she mention him? Did she think he was there, talking to her? Was that the very same voice she was supposedly hearing…?

"Sorbet?" Malt whispered under his breath, but even the slightest sound of his voice agitated the Kecleon. Quickly, she turned to face the tree Malt stood behind, her sharp eyes striking again, distinguishing the light brown of Malt's skin from the verdant grasses and leaves that lined the forest. PK looked in disgust at the Miltank, her eyes aglow with anger.

"I told you not to follow me," she muttered, barely audible to the Miltank, "Why did you follow me?" For a second, Malt couldn't answer. His partner's sharp replies and cutting words were like Poison Stings to him, each and every one.

"I…I was worried about you," Was the first thing he could think of, but his thoughts quickly switched gears as he asked, "Why are you talking to…Sorbet? He's not--"

"Yes he is!" PK virulently shouted, her scales turning even darker, "He's right here!" She pointed at an empty spot on the ground—Malt could only assume the lack of sleep was making her see things, including what could only be a ghost of Sorbet. He had no words to give her, only a blank stare that left PK angrily wondering what he was thinking at that moment.

"What, you think I'm lying?" she asked the Miltank, throwing her hands on her hips, "You think I'm just making all of this up?! Can't you see him?!" Still the Miltank was wordless and with an empty expression. He tried his best to say something, anything, but no words came out. At that PK's face glowed with a maroon shade that Malt had never seen before, instilling a deep fear in his chest…

"Dammit, he's right…right here…!" PK pointed again towards the empty spot in the grove, her color quickly turning to an ominous dark shade again, "Why…why can't you see him…!?" Her voice rose higher and louder, startling Malt from his shock. It was enough to give him words to speak, in hopes that he could calm the Kecleon down.

"PK…your volume…it's…" Malt tried to say, but he couldn't get his point across, "Sapling Village is close by, and--" But he was cut off by a furious PK; her scales were aglow with red when she heard the name of the neighboring village.

"I don't care if they hear me!" She cried—Malt noticed a tear run down her face, if not briefly, "Sorbet and I…We'll wake the whole damn village up if we have to! We'll wake him up, too…see how he likes it!"

"Is…is that what this is about?" asked Malt, keeping his volume low and solemn, "You can't sleep because he's gone? You're seeing and hearing Sorbet because he's gone, too?" But PK said nothing, that is, she had no words to say. But she was still able to get her message across. Her eyes grew red and puffy; her color grew even darker, dark enough for almost all of her to blend in with her surroundings in the forest. Only the red zigzag stripe that lay on her stomach was visible at one point—Malt took a few steps forward upon seeing this, trying to comfort his friend and partner as her invisible sobs shook the forest. As he embraced the visible red zigzag, PK's color slowly began to become visible again, albeit a dark, dark black.

"They're gone forever, aren't they…?" the Kecleon cried, sniffling a bit as she did, "And even if they're not…it won't ever be the same…he won't--Shroomy won't forgive me for what I've done to him…"

"We don't know that for sure, though!" Malt tried to argue, a sad smile spread upon his face, "He might come back…he might. We have to be strong and rebuild for now, though. We have to." As he finished, he tightened his grip on the fellow normal-type, trying to hold back tears, as well. He had to be the strong one this time. No matter what happened, no matter how bad it got, Malt had to overcome this challenge head on with PK, even if it took months to do it.

"We'll find a way," PK wiped a tear off of her face, frustrated, "We'll make it perfect, Malt—the village, I mean…We have to make it better again. For Sorbet…for everyone…for Shroomy, too, even…even if he won't forgive me…even if he won't come back."

"But he will," Malt said simply, a brave look on his face, "I think—no, I know he will. I believe he will. And you do, too, PK. We have to keep our heads up, no matter what happens."

"Keep our heads up…" PK repeated, sighing a bit as she did. Just saying it, just trying to think about it was a challenge, but she kept thinking about it, no matter what pains began to ache in her chest. She would push away those pains if it meant things would or could get better, "…Fine. It won't be the same, but…let's go and do that."

"Let's be strong, PK," Malt replied with a brave smile, holding his hoof out to beckon the Kecleon, "Let's go home." Just the thought…the thought of going home to that home filled with memories of things she didn't want to think about…Well, yes, the memories were there.

But that didn't mean she couldn't create new ones. It didn't mean everything was over. And as she took Malt's hoof in her hand, she knew out of all of this, something was possible. She didn't know what, exactly, but something. Something perfect, something that would grow into prosperity. As they walked home together, they discussed their plans—including a long needed sleep for PK—and a hope for the village.