Each Past 「Pokemon Watty Awards 2016」

Prologue ♦ I Cry Tears Of Cursed Blood

♦ Dedicated to Orion4 for being a great friend that I hope I can talk to more in the future, and an awesome person all around! You leave really inspiring, sweet comments on each and every chapter on my stories. Stay fabulous! ♦

Welcome to the first chapter- well, prologue- of Each Past. This is the story of the Legendary Pokemon of dreams, Cresselia.

:I do not own Pokemon or the images used in the cover, but the plot, personalities and the edited cover belongs to me. You may not copy, translate, or reproduce it in any form unless given permission by me, @NyxAbsol.:

With that said, I hope you enjoy! :)

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But still I felt so incomplete—there is one more thing that's missing

And it is something only you can give —a special type of "magic"

Now let's promise... ("Don't let go of my hand") "Won't you please stay here with me—"

•

Every Pokemon on this planet knows that we are separate beings, that we are on a whole different level from them. We're Pokemon, yet we're so estranged and different from the common Pokemon you see in the wild every day.

We're nothing but mere creations of Arceus, born to serve a single purpose alone, so that this world can shine so bright like a glittering star amidst the dark sky of this vast, never-ending universe. 

The concept of "life" to us is merely a detailed definition of it, yet we are foreign to the meaning itself. 

What is our life, anyway?

(I want a life. I want it. I want a proper one.)

According to Arceus, it is a mere cycle—one with no end or start, destined to spend our eternity toiling away for the good of the Pokemon. 

We're selfless; we only give, never asking for anything in return. We don't think of our jobs as punishments; instead, we find a distant blissful happiness in fulfilling the desires of those strange creatures called "Pokemon".

I don't think that's what life is.

(One that will not destroy bonds like it had between me and him.)

We've trapped ourselves behind the eternal mask of a frozen smile, taking on the pain of the Pokemon we protect, every day wanting to die, but knowing that wish would never be fulfilled. This twisted agony is like a blazing knife twisting inside our artificial hearts, consuming us with a raging, blazing suffering that was unable to be quenched.

We were like dolls, I would sometimes muse. Unable to do anything in this cruel world.

I see everything; I see all pain and troubles, and I want to give these suffering individual a glimpse of what "bliss" means; what it tastes like.

I can see into the very depths of your consciousness—not for my own benefits, please understand—I can see each and every spark of pain that the life has thrown at you.

I'm able to take your agony and turn it into the ideal world you could never have—I let you touch this ideal utopia  in your dreams. So you can smile and face a new day with renewed confidence.