Very stupid title, I know... but if anybody can
suggest a better one, I'm listening!
This fic was written on the train home from the cinema
where I went to see Pokemon 2000 last night.
Incidentally, as a promotional thing, cards for the
Pokemon card game were handed out with the tickets...
so if anybody has any interest in a mint-condition
Zapdos card, please mail me PRIVATELY at
raye_j@yahoo.com.
Please enjoy.
Raye
=====
raye_j@yahoo.com
http://members.xoom.com/Raye01
Everyone is a philosopher.
Some people just get paid.
__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Photos - 35mm Quality Prints, Now Get 15 Free!
http://photos.yahoo.com/
-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: Choices.txt
-- Desc: Choices.txt
Choices
by Raye Johnsen
raye_j@yahoo.com
****************
Pokemon is copyright Nintendo, GAME FREAK and 4Kids
Entertainment. If you think I have any rights to any of this, you
are very, very wrong.
****************
Lying here in our tent, I look at his face. Peaceful in
sleep, you would never think that such a young face could have
the history it does. All that he has achieved and all that he's
going to achieve lies graven on his soul, but his face is still
a child's, unmarked and unlined. As his heart will ever be.
Water's Daughter lies beyond him, her face gentler in
repose. Togepi lies in her arms, trilling in dreams. Beyond them,
the Painter of Souls sleeps, Merryl snuggled close to his side.
I wonder if any of the other Pokemon recognise them for what
they are. I wonder if they, too, have the stories that tell of
What Will Be. It is not, after all, something one asks. I know
the Humans do; but the Humans have lost the knowledge of what is
truth and what is dream in their Tales of Forever.
I have to acknowlege the truth, and face what I never wanted
to admit to myself.
I never wanted to be the Chosen One!
It's always been whispered among us. Our mothers would croon
it to their infants and our juveniles would play at being the
Chosen One.
But not I. Even as an infant, I saw the price, rather than
the glory.
"There will be born a Chosen One," my mother whispered to
me. "The Chosen One will venture far, beyond all that any pikachu
has done before, for the One will accompany the World's Child.
The Child will be a Human, and he will achieve greatness in the
eyes of Humans and Pokemon alike. Through pain and trial shall
the World's Child come. In place of hatred he shall sow love; in
place of ignorance he shall sow understanding; in place of fear
he shall sow friendship. Darkness shall follow him, but by
example he shall teach them to love the light. With his
compassion he shall inspire us to tears. With his courage, he
will tame the Legends. And every step of the way we will be with
him, for the Chosen One will be his faithful and beloved ally who
will never desert him."
"Never?" I asked.
"Never," my mother replied firmly, "for the Chosen One is
a pikachu, and once a pikachu makes up their mind, they never go
back on their decision. We are Wood, the Tree that reaches to the
Heavens to the Earth, rooted and immovable; we are the Lightning
that races from the Sky to the Ground, that chooses its own
targets. We decide for ourselves, and where we decide we are
faithful unto eternity. We are pikachu!"
The other juveniles told me more: that the Chosen One would
not be chosen willingly. The World's Child would take the Chosen
One against both their wills, that it was only in order to
prevent the alternative.
"Who would want to be chosen unwilling?" I asked. "Better
to be unaccompanied than to be unwanted. In fact, who would want
to be chosen at all?" And I would go back to my own games.
For to be chosen means that one must fight - and, though I
will fight when there is need, I do not *like* fighting. And if
one fights, one will evolve - and I like being a pikachu. I have
no desire to be a raichu.
"The Chosen One will achieve the Third Evolution," my peers
whispered. "The first to go beyond a raichu! Imagine the power!
Imagine the skill!"
"Imagine the *pain*," I retorted, returning to my chores.
I can't help but imagine the pain. It *hurts* when I get hit
by Bulbasaur's Razor Leaf or the Vine Whip. Squirtle's Water
Blast can carry my own Thunder Shock, and so I *know* it's a
truly 'shocking' experience.
And this is only combat, and only combat at my current
level. If I evolve to the legendary Third Level - what will I
endure to *get* there?
I don't like these sort of questions. They make me restless
in the night and render sleep impossible.
When I was first captured I was enraged. I didn't *want* to
be chosen! And I made very sure my captor knew it. There are
reasons why there are very few unwilling Pokemon! So he gave me
over to Professor Oak.
I didn't want to be there, either. And so *he* gave me on
- to a new trainer who arrived late and chose me only because I
was the only Pokemon left to choose.
Unwillingly, he chose me; unwillingly, I chose to go with
him; but if he did not choose me, he would not be able to start
his journey, and if I did not choose him, I would never have any
chance of seeing my home again. And so we chose each other
against our wills, rather than the alternative.
His compassion, mentioned often in the Tales of What Will
Be, proved stronger than my rage; I found him worthy of respect.
He had to choose, between his safety and mine, and he did the one
thing I never expected any Human to; he chose me. And I could do
no less than to choose him in return.
It is frightening to acknowledge that even my distrust is
noted in the Tales of What Will Be.
We have been through much together, he and I. We have chosen
each other so many times. We have fought for each other, and he
has died for me...
Even that is in the Tales. He has died for Pokemon, and so
the Pokemon have wept for him. It is all in the tales, of the
World's Child and Water's Daughter. And the Chosen One, who will
ever stand beside them.
I never wanted to be the Chosen One. And I don't want what
is to come. I do not want to achieve the Third Evolution. I do
not want to face pain and hurt and trials.
But the choice is to stay and face it all, or to leave him,
and I have made up my mind. I am the Tree that is fixed and will
never move from its chosen spot. I am the Lightning from Heaven
that strikes of its own choosing. And I chose long ago, when a
Human chose me.
I am Pikachu.