The Present is a Gift

Chapter 20: In Which Old Things are New

The world was cool and serene, a sort of calm that echoed that of still waters that she had never seen but knew with a great familiarity as they answered her stirring. She was dreaming of warmth and light and hope, as she always had before she found herself in this body, but she knew it was time to wake. Cresselia raised her head, and she knew her name before she knew how to speak a word.

It took some time to learn how to open her mouth. By the time she managed to speak her first words, another being had formed at her side. He was far different in looks than her— dark coloring and a shadowed, hazy build rather than a bright, feathery one— but she had a feeling that the two of them were made of the same stuff, whatever it was.

She settled into the shallow water beside him and put out a paw to shake his shoulder. "Awake. There is work to be done."

He blinked a few times before rising, clutching his head with a low groan. "I'm aware. A moment, please. I just had the most awful dream..."

Cresselia laughed. "Awful? There's no such thing as awful dreams. Only pleasant ones."

The being looked over to her, worried. "You must be mistaken. There's only such a thing as unpleasant dreams."

She tilted her head. "Are you ill? Perhaps that's why your dreams are misbehaving. I can fix that— your hand, please."

He gave her his hand, and Cresselia was startled by the weight of another's touch. Still, she closed her eyes and settled her other paw over the back of his palm. It was simple to heal him— easier than breathing. She smiled proudly at her work.

He pulled his hand away when she released it, flexing his claws and curling his hand close to his chest. "And what if you are the ill one?"

"You could heal me if you are so troubled by the possibility."

"I..." He looked away. "I can't. I can only provide sleep."

"I see. I think I'm through with sleeping for now, though." She looked around, finally curious enough to take in her surroundings. The shallow water they were in gleamed with a gold light that chased at curling wisps of darkness that streaked through the pool. She couldn't decide whether the light and dark were in the midst of a game of chase or locked in a deadly pursuit. She didn't pay it much mind. The cave they were in was very dim, despite the glow of the water, and she didn't care for the dark.

"Let's see what's out there," she told her companion.

"Mortals," he replied. "There are mortals. You want to see them?"

"Of course. Their belief shaped us, didn't it? Make haste, Darkrai."

He froze. "Who is Darkrai?"

"You, of course. Did you not know?"

"I didn't."

Cresselia gave her fellow Legend a nervous glance. He didn't know his own name upon being formed, he could only bring slumber and not healing, and he thought that dreams were only ever unpleasant. Was he unwell? Perhaps he hadn't been believed in enough to be formed properly. She would need to keep watch over him to make sure he was alright.

"Come along, Darkrai. Let us go out to meet the people who made us."

***

Darkrai was swiftly driven out by the mortals. It went well at first, with a welcoming reception by a number of the mortal groups in the area offering worship and offerings, but when night fell, the mortals were gripped by terrible dreams. They woke at dawn and forced Cresselia's counterpart from their settlement, crying silly things like omen and demon and curse. Darkrai took it much harder than he should have, Cresselia thought, and she left the mortals to confront him as he sulked in the wilderness.