Pokemon Heroes: Sinnoh Saga [Book 1]

Chapter 24: Battle Royale, Part 2

"We continued to travel along Route 205. As we passed by the rolling hills, we eventually reached a wide-open field of grass. It wasn't much higher than our knees, but when the wind blew across the field, it looked like a green ocean of emeralds. Eventually we reached a Pokémon Centre where we had another battle—unfortunately this one wasn't a three-way battle as before. Due to my sudden illness, it was only Jeremy and Alyssandra fighting that day, but it really did give me something to think about after. These battles, that we continued to have for the rest of our travels, helped us prove to each other how far we'd come since the last battle, and how far we all had to go before we became masters. Let me tell you now, becoming the best doesn't come from skill alone, it comes from how hard you're willing to work and how much you're willing to put into your dreams."

The group sat in the two-sided booth, enjoying their breakfast.

Niya had just returned to the table from the buffet with her breakfast and they were now enjoying a quiet meal together.

Everyone was tired from their late-night last night, spent helping Nurse Joy batten down the hatches for the rainstorm that ended up keeping the group up half of the night. It came out of nowhere and left not a single trace of its being there save for debris and puddles, but it cut the power, causing the group to have to sleep with Nurse Joy in the lobby.

Sam still couldn't explain it; but he felt like the storm was connected to him somehow. Sam wanted to run out into the storm last night, without any reason; it worried him, but he kept his worries to himself.

Worst of all he had the same dream again, a dream that had recurred to him thousands of times in his life over the years, ever since Sam was old enough to remember his dreams.

These dreams cost him sleep often and would send him running to his grandparent's bedroom when he was younger or would keep him awake with thoughts and questions when he was older.

Last night, the dream was the same as always, if not more vivid than before.

Suddenly, Sam felt himself transported elsewhere just by thinking about it, as if he had left the table, and he was once more in his dream.

He was walking through a thick, white mist; a fog so thick that even his own hand was a shadow in front of his face. Sam could tell there were trees, he heard them as every so often a small breeze would blow through their branches, but wouldn't clear the fog away, and once and a while they appear in Sam's path, only for Sam to pass through them like a ghost.

Sam kept walking, not even conscious that he was doing so, and realized that he wasn't walking; he was being pulled by something invisible, something that wanted him to follow somewhere important.

Then, Sam was in a ruined hall—something that might've been the dining hall of a castle or manor once—and the mist was gone.

He looked around him and could see the sun and sky poke through holes in the ruined ceiling where burnt beams hung precariously over the stone floor. Windows were shattered all around him, and most of the walls had crumbled away from age and decay.

Whatever this place was it was in ruin for many long years before Sam had arrived.

There was a clicking noise, and Sam wheeled around, looking for someone. Nothing was there, nothing but a squirrel.

Sam sighed, but no sooner had he let his guard down did the trap door open beneath his feet—just like always—and he fell down into darkness.

Sam fell for what felt like an eternity before finally hitting warm sand, somewhere in the darkness. Sam called out, yelling into the darkness but no sound came out of his mouth. Then, everything lit up as the ceiling was pulled away with a loud creak of chains.