Night is the time for secrecy, when all the lights are out and everyone is asleep. When everything is cloaked in a hidden darkness, and veiled by frozen shadows. At the darkest hours, this is when everything happens.

When everything important happens.

He stood on top of the lighthouse, staring off into the distant horizon. The cold, night breezes whipped around him, tousling dark brown hair. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his thick coat, which hung to his knees.

The stars shone on him, and but the moon didn't glow in its majestic glory. A new moon. Perfect.

He turned towards the city, and smiled down at the dark streets and alleys. A lady taking an evening stroll. A barking dog, begging for scraps. Teenage gangsters, sending columns of smoke in the air from sparking cigarettes. Kids going out to spend their night, sneaking out of houses.

It was cute, how they were so ignorant. Unaware of what was to come. No, no one was prepared for what was to come. No one but him.

Waves splashed against the shore, and he envisioned Lilycove flooded with the dark waters. Fear, and anger, perhaps even hope. False hope.

A storm was coming, it was inevitable. This was only the beginning of a new era, and the end of an old one.

He looked around, watching for witnesses, before whistling out to the sky. A shrill, sharp sound pierced the thick air, screaming for attention. A light flickered on in a house, and he froze. Time seemed to stop.

"Hello? Is anybody out there?"

He didn't answer, instead focusing his deep, dark eyes towards the heavens above, until the light disappeared, and the night resumed.

Something descended, perching herself daintily on his shoulder. A Noctowl.

"Here," he said gruffly, his voice muffled and hushed. The owl gave a deep rumbling sound, before taking off; a sign of blatant affection.

He watched her fly away until she was nothing more than a dot above the silent waves, before turning to lay his eyes on the city.

That letter was only the first of them. The first of a million.

Trainers would flock to Lilycove, intent on being the best. But only one would win. And that one was him.

Tomorrow, he decided.

Tomorrow would mark the beginning of the end.

The first of the reconstructed chapters. This fic now has a prologue. :D