within the eternal prison

Off the rocky coast of Johto there lies a small island, home to the prosperous city of Alto Mare. It's not called the City of Water for nothing, as it is filled with canals crisscrossing the entire island. There are no roads for cars on Alto Mare, which has allowed it to remain pristine and pollution-free.

Thanks to its strategic location between Hoenn and Johto, Alto Mare's commercial seaport is the third largest in the world. Such a large port is no place for small seacraft, of course, but after receiving countless petitions from fishermen the authorities had installed a series of smaller docks on the far side of the island, where fishing boats would not be menaced by titanic container ships. In stark contrast to the eternal hustle-and-bustle of the seaport, the docks were generally rather quiet, seeing only the activity of a few fishermen coming from and going out to sea. Hardly anyone noticed the girl who appeared so regularly there.

Every new day found the girl on the docks with the easel, sketching the landscape of the city before her. Rain; sun; lightning; or even the rare snowstorm, each day the girl would dutifully bring her easel and canvas out on the bridge to begin her work.

Seasons came and went; years flitted by, as slowly but surely, decades slipped away. Those who saw her regularly wondered why she never seemed to age, why she seemed a perennial twelve year-old. But they, unlike her, became caught up in the ravages of time and passed on.

Lorenzo had passed away many years ago. Bianca moved away from Alto Mare with a husband, her last words to Latias a light promise to visit. The timeless Eon dragon had nodded, despite knowing that she wouldn't. Other herds of Eons arrived from time to time, and tried to keep her company. But they never stayed.

It had been some six decades since the boy with the pikachu had first set foot on the island and captivated Latias. Still on the bridge she waited for him, but knowing in her heart of hearts that he was gone. She would have left to search for him, before old age claimed him, but she was bound to stay here, as guardian and prisoner of the island, bound by birthright and a promise - a century-old promise to her brother.

Full of vitality. That was the truest way to describe the boy… and his pikachu. They had traveled lands far and wide, but never, ever did they tire. But now, aboard the ferry to Alto Mare, they settled down. Their present peaceful disposition was a rare sight; normally both would be bouncing up and down in excitement.

The ferry's horn blasted as it drew into port, sending smaller ships and a few stray fishing boats scurrying for safety. As the large ship pulled up alongside the dock, the boy and his pikachu were the first down the ramp. He paused for a moment at the edge before finally stepping onto land. For an instant, he appeared unusually pensive. Then he smiled. "Pikachu," he whispered to his friend, "we're finally here."

"No… I'm Ash, of Pallet Town. I'm a pokemon trainer. Pikachu is just my partner. We just followed her in here!"

"Sounds suspicious. Latios, get them!"

Voices. Latias had been hearing voices in her head lately. Especially when she roamed the lonely expanses of the Secret Garden, chasing dreams of friends long gone.

She missed them. Who knew what had happened to Bianca in Kanto? She longed for company; but as the years had passed, the few who had known her, who had known of the Secret Garden, had all left the island or died. The legend of the island's Eon guardians survived only in the stories of elders. And even the Eon herds' visits were few and far in between now. Her only contact with the outside world, the daily trips to the bridge, had lately diminished in appeal. A kindly old man, who would always offer her a smile as she went her way in the morning, had recently departed - from the island or from the world, she could not tell.

On this day, Latias, guided by the voices in her head, retraced the path she had took on that one special day, almost seventy years ago. Taking the form of her once-young best friend, she made her way to the faucet where she had first met Ash.

She was surprised to find a young trainer, in his early teens at most, operating the tap, allowing a joyous pikachu to wash himself. Latias rubbed her eyes. Was she seeing things again? No, they were there. She hesitated to continue closer. Even in her disguised form, she rarely approached humans on her own. But there was- something… about the two that drew her in. An atmosphere of friendship - of familiarity - pervaded the air. It seemed to fill her with a quiet strength. The boy was still watering the pikachu, speaking in low, pleasant tones to his pokemon.

Abruptly the boy shut off the tap and looked up, finally noticing the girl to his side, staring at him. He waited for Pikachu to hop onto his shoulders before standing and approaching the girl.

Latias found herself captivated by the boy's eyes. Shockingly amber eyes, reminding her of a very special friend from her past. Part of her idly wondered if it was him. But reason quashed that thought, insisting, It's been seventy years; he would be as old as Lorenzo was by now.

So engrossed was she in the boy, she didn't notice a loose tile and tripped. Blinking back tears restrained for far too long, she was startled to find the boy standing over her, offering a hand. Hesitantly, Latias took the proffered hand and stood up again.

Noticing her tears, the boy stiffened in anxiety. He was never very good at reassurance. Years of traveling with others had taught him that much. "Hey… there's no need to worry. Everything will be alright…"

Nodding, Latias dried her eyes with a hand. She wished she could speak in her human form, so she could ask the boy about his past, but could only offer a wavering smile. But as though he had heard her thoughts, the boy spoke at that exact moment.

"I'm Ash. I'm from Pallet Town, and here's my partner, Pikachu…"

He offered a tentative grin.

"...what's your name?"