Crescendo | Pokémon Short Story

Feather Dance

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Loss. Pain. Fear. Only metaphors were fitting to describe such feelings. Loss was a black hole that stole all happy elements, causing one to wish to dispose of every feeling. Pain pricked through the skin and feathers, needles that poisoned the blood. Pain caused wincing and grimacing. Fear slithered and coiled around them, an Arbok hissing into their ears malicious words, a tightening, never-ending spiral.

The grass was stained red, unmoving and dry. Maimai made a gradual turn away from the elevating cage, the cackles of the humans causing nearby spirits to flee. She lost connection.

The clouds were darkening, flashes of lightning and roars of thunder erupting above. Lawe was more awake than ever, droplets of rain as if sweat and tears, salty and bitter in her open beak. It hurt within.

The flamenco dancer felt as if he was in the centre of a maze, his bearings lost. His thought returned to the Pidgey and he cooed, sorrow engulfing him. The maze was no more than the cage, which despite its golden appearance, was a distraction from the loss of freedom one would experience within it. And a bird that stalked down his narrow cage can seldom see through its bars of rage.

He thought the moon was mocking him, the smile— no, a sickle would be more fitting. It cut through him as if he was a vulnerable blade of grass and he hated it. He felt like his wings were detached and maybe he had lost all the fiery red passion in him, throwing himself into the black chaos.

"P-Pachi's gone." Lawe's wavering voice struck them.

"Taken."

"No, Maimai! Captured!" The Pa'u Style Oricorio slapped the Sensu Style Oricorio's wings. Frantically, they turned to José whose eyes were pleading and fearful like theirs.

"We did nothing but watched her leave. We can't get her back. She'll die! Humans are way too dangerous!"

"Maimai," The Baile Style Oricorio hushed her. "We must get her back."

"We can't! They'll put us in a cage and when they tell us to sing, we sing. When they want us to dance, we dance." Maimai held her fan up close and shook her head in disgruntlement. Her steps were clumsy and everything went awry. Her wings went up and down rapidly.

She lost her elegance. She exuded her newfound stupidity. She clucked,"We can do anything!"

"No, Maimai! We got to do something for Pachi! We just got to make sure none of us gets separated from now on!" José's voice rose and ebbed.

"Sounds like a task easier said than done," she spat and turned to Lawe who watched her uneasily.

The rain grew heavier, weeping and washing the red trail away. In the distance, engine revved and the glittering golden cage camouflaged well with the pale yellow headlights that lightened up the meadow. The poppies were in blossom that night.

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Memento mori. That was all Maimai could think of as she followed Lawe and José. Beneath them, the clouds were grey wisps, the stars blinking with caution.

Remember that you will die. She translated the phrase. The weather was not lenient to them. Her fears aroused in her.

"What if we are struck by lightning? What if Pachi is dead? What if they have more guns? Machetes? Ropes? Cages?" Maimai stopped at the last word. She pondered over the foreign feeling of being trapped. Then, a strange thought entered the crevices of her mind.