Beckoning Light

By: Vingle

It's been a while, hasn't it?

The light had never bothered him. From the moment he had been created, he was fascinated by its brightness, its seemingly gentle warmth, the way the others would always bask in its presence. He was fascinated, but he never desired to join in. It would dance and twirl and loop and swirl and beckon him to join. He would always observe it, and never reached out to it despite his colleagues' encouragement. Though it didn't bother him, he did not think himself particularly fond of it either. To him, it was just a strange concept, nothing more.

It had never intruded on him, and he never intruded on it. They kept to their separate existences, and he was fine with that.

Still, he insisted that he did not hate it, despite the accusations of his acquaintances. The few times he had interacted with it made it impossible to feel such a thing. Each experience had left him with a feeling of awe. The light had always been cordial, always been accepting, always been tactful, always been calm, always been knowing, always been perfect, always been superior in so many ways that it was hard to count. Smothered maybe, suffocated sometimes, but hate he had never felt and most likely never would.

Even when he began to withdraw further and further away from it, he always kept a watchful eye on it. Even when he began to associate with the colleagues closer to him in temperament and appearance, the light never completely left his mind. He continued to observe, and over time he noticed that it wasn't nearly perfect as he thought it was. It could be scalding at times, or cold, or jubilant and radiant like it usually was. Its behaviour was almost pedestrian at times, but it didn't ruin its lustre in his eyes. No matter what it was feeling, it always remained diligent in performing its tasks, something most of his colleagues, something that he would never be able to attest to.

But why couldn't he do so? Nothing stopped him from being able to measure up to the light, from being able to at least keep himself from being swallowed up in its radiance, from being able to change himself to the point that might one day be able to surpass the light itself.

Nothing stopped him, and so he did it. He improved his skills and himself enough that the others began to take notice. He occasionally felt himself being watched, and he proudly kept going to prove to prying eyes that he was indeed trying his damnedest to change. And eventually, he improved to the point that he was, once again, made to work with the light that he had hidden from for so long. Everything proceeded exactly as it had before; he did his job, the light danced its brilliant dance, and then went on their separate ways.

Except this time the light stopped him with a sparkling wing and spoke to him for the first time, inquiring his name. Its voice was smooth and melodious, and for the first time in his life, he felt something other than cold fascination.

He was Darkrai, and the light was Cresselia.

Hate.

It was a feeling he had always said he would never feel for Cresselia, and so far he had kept his word.

No, what he felt when he thought about her right now was far different.

It was fear.

There was no telling what Cresselia would do once she found him, but he was certain that it would be worse than what he was going through right now.

He groggily glanced around him, and then up at the night sky. The moon was dim and the stars were few, obscured by the meandering clouds below. He glanced down at the bright golden feather in his hand. Even with no discernible source of light around, it sparkled every time he shifted it. He rubbed it between two of his dark claws. It was surprisingly soft.

Checking around his surroundings one more time, he sighed and nestled himself into the leafy bush, with his head resting on the boulder right behind it. He looked downwards into the clearing that his cliff overlooked. Nothing stirred in the forest at this hour, but he could sense them. He could sense them dreaming about the day they had, the day they wanted to have, and everything in between. Or not. Some of their dreams were just really weird. He could sense that not one of them was a nightmare of any sorts, and he was glad it was so.

Cresselia would immediately lock onto his location the moment he gave any of the pokémon a nightmare. Of course she would, since that was her job. Always fixing his "mistakes". Always being praised for giving hope to the world. Always being spoken of as the hero who stops that monster scaring everyone at night. It wasn't the specifics of the task that bothered him. He had a job, he did it well (of course he would), and he knew why Arceus wanted him to keep doing it. It wasn't his job that had made him disappear from the other legendaries and start roaming the region. And it wasn't his resentment of Cresselia that made him take a hiatus on being her counterpart.

No, it was his nightmares that made him do that. It was his nightmares that made him take off 2 months ago. It was his nightmares that made him search for something to stop them from consuming his nights. It was his nightmares that made him forsake sleeping for days on end. It was his nightmares that made him steal one of Cresselia's feathers off some random Bibarel holding it in its sleep. It was his nightmares that made him desperately hope that this feather would an end to his nightmare, both physically and figuratively.

He blinked and reached up and rubbed his one visible eye. He spread his right hand and reached towards the sky.

How ironic; the Legendary of Nightmares, reduced to hiding in a bush holding a stolen piece of his counterpart because of nightmares.

He glanced back down at the feather in his hand and tightened his grip on it. So how was he supposed to use it? Stick it in his hair? Tickle himself to sleep? Eat it?

He grimaced and shifted his position slightly before closing his eyes, holding the feather against his chest.

It didn't work.

He woke up screaming.

He couldn't tell how long it was before he came to his senses. He sat up stiffly and glanced around. It didn't seem like his scream woke up anyone. He eyed the claw marks in the ground around him and reached over and picked up Cresselia's feather; he must have flung it while freaking out. He growled half-heartedly and began to move out of the bush when he heard a voice that nearly made his heart stop.

"...Darkrai?"

He instantly shrank back into the bush, hurriedly concealing his presence. He slowly turned his head towards an all-too-familiar glow emanating from the right. Her voice had come from somewhere behind him. For a few seconds, everything was silent. He wondered if she had gone when she slowly moved forward until she was right above his position.

He held his breath and tried to shrink into the bush further.

"Darkrai, I know you're there," The Lunar Swan turned her crescent shaped head to her side, causing several sparkling particles to fall off her onto the legendary hiding under her. It tickled his face, almost causing him to release his breath. "Please come out."

He didn't move.

Cresselia slowly drifted forward until she was floating just off the edge of the cliff, with her light blue back towards him. "Please. Everyone at the hall misses you."

He snickered on the inside at that.

Her voice dropped to a choked whisper. "I miss you." He had to strain to hear that sentence. He remained silent for a few more moments.

Cresselia sighed, disappointed. She turned back towards him and tilted her head, causing more sparkles to sprinkle. "Darkrai, show yourself or I'm clearing this cliff clean," she said in a hard voice.

He was in no condition to fight her, nor did he want to. Grunting heavily, he slowly rose out of the bush to face his fellow legendary. "What do you want, Cresselia?" He looked at her with an almost bored expression.

"Darkrai!" Cresselia's violet eyes widened and she floated towards him.

He held up a dark hand, halting her. "What are you here for?" He narrowed his tired eyes. "I haven't been giving anyone nightmares, and I haven't damaged or destroyed anything."

"That's not what I'm here for," said the Lunar Legendary. "What have you been doing all this time?"

He looked away, unable to meet her curious eyes. "...exploring?" He could practically hear her eyes roll at that response.

She scooted towards him, halving the distance between them. He made a surprised grunt and redoubled his efforts to keep her at bay. "D-don't come near me!" he uttered, meeting her gaze.

She stopped for a moment and blinked at him, before starting to slowly drift towards him instead. She craned her neck towards him, peering. "Your eyes are tired. Have you been sleeping?"

"I've been sleeping enough- Leave me alone!" He tried to wave her off, but was no match for Cresselia, who pushed away his hand with a sparkling wing and stopped just in front of him. She glanced towards his clenched fist at his side and back to him with a confused expression.

"What are you doing with my feather?" She raised a figurative eyebrow.

Darkrai looked around for an excuse. "Well, don't you give these out all the time?"

"I have shed thousands of them in front of you, and I have never seen you go near one before, let alone carry one around," said Cresselia, leaning forward. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing-"

"It definitely isn't nothing!" said the sparkling swan harshly. "What has been happening to you these past two months?"

"Look, you don't have to help-"

"Darkrai, I want to help you!" Cresselia flapped her transparent wings, sending sparkles flying everywhere. She looked down at the grass. "I can't just...leave my partner sick with something."

Darkrai gaped at her. She flared up at him defensively. "I just want to help you get better, that's all." She shyly looked at him.

He covered his face with a hand and laughed. "Now that isn't something you hear everyday," He brushed his white mane of hair to one side, with a small grin from hearing her flustered response. "I've been having nightmares."

To his surprise, Cresselia didn't laugh or point out the irony. She merely tilted her head and looked at him sadly. "All this time?" He nodded. "Did you use the feather?"

"I held it while sleeping. It didn't work." He shrugged his shoulders and looked at her tiredly.

"What have you been seeing in them?" she asked. "It must be quite abnormal to have my feather fail."

He looked away. Now that was something he definitely wasn't willing to share. Upon hearing his silence, Cresselia sighed and gazed at him. "Maybe a stronger contact will do."

Darkrai looked at her questioningly. She said nothing and flew behind him, nudging him forward slightly. "What are you do-"

His complaint was cut short when he felt himself slowly being lowered onto his back by an invisible force. He felt the cool grass as his body was laid down on the ground, and felt something soft against his head. He looked up to see Cresselia holding his head against her chest.

"Maybe this will help," she said softly.

"Thanks," said Darkrai. This was definitely something he could get used to. "I...guess I missed you too." Her soft melodious laugh rang in his ear, and the last thing he felt was sparkles landing on his face.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," she whispered almost inaudibly.

He had never hated the light, and the light had never hated him.

He had always watched the light, not knowing that it had watched him too.

He had worked hard to catch up to the light, unknowing of how it had done the same for him.

When he woke up, he had found himself closer than ever to the light.

And when they went back together to the shock of their colleagues, he made a promise.

This time, they will not watch each other from afar.

This time, they would illuminate each other equally.

This time, when the light dances and twirls and loops and swirls and beckons, he would join.