The Legend of Yellow

By: hydro-serpent58

Kari: I know I haven't been focusing on this story as much, but it's not because I've forgotten it but rather, I haven't been in the Pokémon fandom lately. I've been drawn away from action/adventure and as you can see from my other stories, I've been experimenting with different genres.

Looking back, this story makes me cringe and smile. Cringe, because the beginning chapters are so HORRIBLE that I don't understand why I got as many fans as I did. However, I will not go back and change those chapters for one reason: It shows my growth. How over time, my writing style changed as well as my humor, and I can't help but laugh at how my naivety was present in those chapters. :)

This fic means a lot to me, and so if you've stuck with me this long: Thank you.

Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart.

Chapter 32: Little Boy Did You Hear?

When Silver had first opened his eyes cold was the first thing he thought. Beads of water trickled down his face and the rich scent of the earth met his nose.

Funny, when was the last time he'd smelt nature without the fumes of factories clogging the air?

As he laid there feeling slowly returned to his body. First in his lungs, where frigid air pierced inside him, but it eased up and suddenly he could breathe. The beating of his heart thumped loudly in his ears, and from that pinprick in his chest warmth slowly spread outwards. He still couldn't feel his fingers and toes though.

The pounding in his skull dulled into a minor ache. Staring up at the canopy he couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed.

He ran a bare hand through his soggy hair - his gloves had gone missing he noted - and slowly, painfully sat up. He could hear his back protesting as bones popped into place, causing him to grimace.

He let out a breath, watching the warm vapors materialize before him, and then disperse in a wisps of white.

There was no sunlight, nothing except for broken branches hanging precariously above him. They broke my fall. He realized belatedly.

Hands flew over his arms hugging himself as violent shivers burst forth. He frowned, willing his teeth to not chatter. My clothes are still damp, that means I wasn't away from sea for long. But then...how long was I asleep?

Suddenly a violent breeze whipped past him causing his hair to stand on end. Except it wasn't the cold that did it.

Uwahhhargh...hghnn...

Someone or something was crying. Utter agony whispered with each breath, echoing on the wind. Silver felt as if he was suffocating.

Numbness returned swiftly and cruelly returned as he found himself suddenly unable to move. Despair clawed at his heart, and he found himself choking. The wailing voice caressing each strangled breath.

He was going to die here, he was going to-

"Don't worry, Nee-chan's here. There's nothing to be afraid of okay? We'll make it out together." A brunette smiled, wiping away a childs' tears.

Blue

He jerked, shooting up. Around him the sobbing seemed to grow louder but he paid no attention to it. Move he willed his legs, nearly falling over on the first step. This was bad, he couldn't feel them and-

"We'll find your family. I promise." She vowed, resolution filling those oceanic eyes.

Move damn it! He growled, lips curling into a vicious snarl.

And suddenly, he was.

He flew over forest floor, shrubbery blending into vines as he zoomed past them. He leaped over logs and stones, reminiscent to a Stantler fleeing from peril.

The land began to slope upward and still he ran, for what must've been miles. He never broke stride, the only keeping him going was flashes of her joyous laughter and her crinkling smiles. He would see her again. He had to.

The wind began to die down and Silver was getting tired. As adrenaline left him he started to slow down, tottering like a newborn child. His movements were getting sloppy-steeping over big stone rather than around them, dragging his feet and catching them in humped roots, and using his bare hands to push vines and branches out of the way. The sharp leaves cut like needles into his skin, leaving behind angry white lines that were sure to turn red later.

At last he surrendered to his fatigue and made the mistake of sitting down instead of slowing down, for when he got up again, the rest had given his feet the opportunity to have the numbness recede. The pain shot up his legs and it felt like he was burning. It got to be so great, that he began to limp and hobble. Soon it wasn't possible for him to walk longer than five minutes at the time without pausing to lean against a tree.

At last, stumbling over a root he fell against a trunk, he sank down against it, leaning his head against the bark. Now that he'd settled, he finally noticed the blood pulsing in his temple and the cut on his face stinging in the cool air.

As his heart rate began to slow down, unbidden thoughts came to mind.

What...was that? It wasn't killing intent and yet...

I couldn't move. The boy shuddered.

Because somehow he knew.

If he'd stayed, he wouldn't be leaving again for a very, long time.

The longer he sat there, the more he began to wonder. What will happen to me? It was clear he was alone. There was no Sapphire and her loud boisterous voice, or Gold and his annoying antics. There was no Crystal to chew him out, or Ruby trying to get everyone to try on his outfits. There was no Green to blatantly refuse, or Red to laugh at everyone's shenanigans. Nor was there Yellow and Mist, who's personalities were polar opposites yet they managed work so well together as a team. And yet...

There was no Blue.

Where were they? Were they okay? Was she okay?

They were troublesome thoughts, but they wouldn't go away. Under dark foliage, on the ground alone, with not even his Pokémon to remind him he wasn't alone. He could barely see his own hand, and couldn't see his feet. His whole body had disappeared.

So the thoughts came, unobstructed by other people, by things, even by the sight of himself. There was nothing here to help him-not his skills, his father's reputation, his clothing. Except for his his Pokédex and a couple rupees he had nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

So he stayed there, watching white puffs escape his nostrils. It was sometime later-when he'd given up in trying to sleep-that he heard something. ...oo...rk...

He stilled, straining his eyes as stormy grey orbs stared into the darkness. ...of...ark!

Sheer disbelief filled him. Was that- Woof! Woof! Bark!

There were dogs. Multiple by the sound of it. They were baying off in the distance, but were rapidly coming closer the more he listened. He frowned uncertainly. Were they wild? If so it'd be better if he got in a tree, but until now he hadn't seen any animals...

And then he heard it. A sharp sound that pierced through the barking. A whistle. Immediately the yelping resumed, this time more rapidly than before. Soon enough he began to here clicks of the tongue and other vocal ticks. Little by little it fell into place. The dogs-these people-none were just hollering- they were just signaling a location or pace. Whoever they were, were talking with their canines.

In distinctive voices they were saying particular things, complicated things. That one long yah sound followed by a specific kind of howl from one of the dogs. The low bown bown that sounded like a string of bass imitating a bassoon meant something the hounds understood and executed. And the dogs...they spoke back: single-shot barks-evenly spaced and widely spaced-one every three to four minutes that might go on for twenty minutes. A sort of radar that indicated to their trainers where they were and what they saw and what they wanted to do about it. And the people agreed or told them to change direction or to come back. All those shrieks, those rapid tumbling barks, the low liquid bown bown, the reedy whistles, the thin eeee's of a cornet, the unh unh unh bass chords. It was all language. An extension of the click people made in their cheeks back home when they wanted a dog to follow them.

No..that's not right. Silver corrected himself.

No, it was not a language; it was what there was before language. Before things were written down. Language in the time men and animals did talk to one another, when a man could sit down with an ape and the two converse; when a tiger and a man could share the same tree, and each understood the other; when men ran with wolves, not from or after them.

It was a time where, if he were in his world, pokéballs didn't exist.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but a tribal village wasn't it. Looking back however, he supposed it made sense. After all, what owner talked to their dogs? These canines weren't below them, they were equals.

"Pokémon are my companions!"

"They're my partners."

Yellow...would like this place.

The next thing he noticed, was that these people really did speak another language. One he did not understand. The way they spoke was not humanized at all. Every breath, every sigh held a note that spoke volumes. When they sang it was not the voices of humans, but the call of the wind. When they laughed it was the sound of bells, and when they talked it was like listening to a babbling brook. They literally spoke nature.

And it was something he wanted to learn.

"Silver, there's something I need to ask you."

A boy stood before the only person in the village that spoke his language. The person who was hailed leader, who'd given him new clothes, and had allowed him to stay in the village. The person who'd taught him how to perceive.

"Sir," he responded inclining his head.

"It is to my knowledge you are from the parallel world...is that correct?"

Silver's expression blanked, becoming closed off. "Yes."

The chief leaned back, stroking his chin while taking in the boy's countenance. "You mistake me child, I do not wish to ask you questions about your past."

The scarlet haired boy hesitated, "Then..."

"I merely wish to present a gift to you. A surprise, if you will."

Silver immediately straightened. "Sir, you've given me so much already. I refuse to take anything more." He spoke slowly.

"Ah, but you're not 'taking' anything. It's a gift you see."

Silver frowned. He wasn't used to gifts. The only one who ever gave him a present was-

Don smiled, his eyes focusing on something behind him. "He's here."

Before the thief could figure out what he meant, the Pokédex holder found himself acquainted with the floor. Pushing his face off the floor he grimaced, tempted to spit away the the dirt that had gotten on his lips.

"Craw!"

"Cree!

"Seee!"

The next thing he knew, Silver was scooped up into a gentle yet crushing embrace. His breath caught. Blue scales...

"Feraligatr?"

A low rumbling of content was heard as the reptile nuzzled its face against his Trainer. A black blur zoomed into his vision before a weight settled on his head.

"Honchcrow?"

Something small suddenly jumped into his arms followed by the ground shaking, as something large slithered around them. A content roar followed, echoing inside the chamber.

"Kingdra...Gyarados...Rhyperior..."

Slowly he looked up at a lone dark figure, staying ways away from the group. Blood red eyes focused entirely on him. As their gazes connected, Silver couldn't stop the small tremor from reaching his voice.

"Weavile."

It was faint, hardly noticeable. But the Pokémon caught it right away. In a flash it flickered in front of him, staring in concern.

It was always like this, Weavile and the Exchanger, silent communication. Weavile, who'd help him get away. Weavile, who'd protected him so many times before. Weavile, who'd comforted him when no one else could.

He was just so damn relieved to see his first Pokemon again.

Slowly he looked up at the smiling man, who'd made this possible. How? He wanted to ask, but he stopped as the chief merely held out a belt.

"I believe this is yours."

Honchcrow left its perch on Silver head, flying over to retrieve the belt before returning and neatly depositing it on its Trainer's lap. On the belt hung six Pokéballs.

Silver stared at the belt that had been missing for weeks...for months.

He looked up, straight into Don's unwavering gaze. "Thank you."

It was a simple phrase, only two words, and he'd said it in an emotionless voice. And yet...those two words alone held the deepest amount of gratitude he'd ever had.

Don watched the Trainer leave, returning all his Pokémon except Weavile who trailed behind from the shadows. Acting like a silent guardian.

He released a sigh, a nostalgic expression spreading across his face. "Those two are so similar..."

"You're very cold, you know. There's no need to refuse."

"But master I am your student, I should not take such things."

"This 'thing' is a gift, from me to you. Is it wrong for me to share with my faithful apprentice?"

"I..."

A gloved hand appeared, holding the chocolate bar in front of the disciple's face. "You'll find that sharing a treat with someone is one of the greatest pleasures you'll ever have."

A hesitant paw took the chocolate.

"...Thank you."