Merry Christmas have a chapter!

Chapter 8: The Cathedral of Mind

Jeana was unable to sleep calmly that night. She awoke in a haze of sleepiness, around midnight. She decided to perhaps walk around the island, and clear her mind with the night air.

She managed to navigate out of the hotel rather easily, the only one in the lobby of the hotel that she saw being a fidgeting hoothoot. Once she got into the city, she noticed it for the first time.

Meadowville was serene, but bursting with life and energy. Dread City was modern and grim. Splash Port was bustling and shifting. Mind Isle was different from all of these.

Jeana felt a quiet in the air. There was little of the telepathic ‘noise’ that she had grown used to in this city, but it was still there. That somehow unnerved her less than Dread City’s dead telepathic silence had, and actually relaxed Jeana. She could smell faint but pretty incense and perfume drifting in the air, as well as see candles and strange glowing stones burning softly in the windows of buildings nearby.

Jeana looked up, and to her disappointment saw that the city’s light, while significantly lesser than that of a human city’s light, still blotted out the stars and constellations, making them difficult to see.

She’d need to wait until she got back to Meadowville to see the stars, then. Her tiredness often overwhelmed her curiosity, but she still wanted to see if the constellations were different here.

Jeana wandered the streets of Mind Isle. The streets were mostly made of white gravel that felt uncomfortable on her soft, uncalloused paws, so she stayed off of it as often as she could. Soon, she came to a lavishly decorated building. Imposing, tall, and white, resembling a cathedral. Red and purple and blue stained glass windows that would be beautiful if there was daylight. Cobblestones in several shades of colors. The heady haze of incense inside, and softly burning candles, and the faint ring of windchimes.

Jeana found herself entering before she realized it. The door was unlocked.

Inside was… Odd. There seemed to be a great number of corners inside the building, a small shrine tucked away in each corner. The building seemed to be able to be divided up with royal purple plush curtains, however the curtains were all drawn back now. There was a wide variety of shrines. One painted in a pink sky with rainbow stars and a multicolored crescent moon, another decorated simply with simply a sculpture of a long-tailed stone cat peeping curiously over a bowl…

Jeana noted one particular shrine in a specific area, and wandered towards it. Or rather, it was what could be three separate shrines clustered together, sharing the same corner. Etched and painted across a wooden dais were three figures. Each figure had off-white skin and two tails, as well as red stones set at the base of each tail, and in the space just between their eyes. Each figure had a differently shaped and colored crown of some sort. Yellow, pink, and blue.

A shrine to Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf.

Below the three figures on the dais, carved into the wood, were runes of some kind. Jeana squinted her eyes. They were oddly looking, but they almost looked like letters of the English alphabet… Shifted in some way. She leaned closer into it, and to her surprise found she could read it. She softly spoke it aloud.

Three Pokemon there were.

Into the lakes they dove.

Deep, deep, drawing no breath.

Deeper, deeper, they dove.

Into suffocating depths they dove.

Deeper, then deepest they alight.

From the lake floor they rise.

Bearing with them the power to make vast lands, they rise again.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice hummed behind Jeana.

Jeana jumped slightly, and turned to see a grumpig. The grumpig chuckled slightly. “Oh, did I scare you? I’m sorry.”

“You did not scare me, you startled me,” Jeana told the grumpig.

The grumpig shrugged. “Well, I’ve been deep in research of the Psychic Legends and been snuck up upon many a time… So I cannot blame you.” A gleam appeared in her eyes. “My name is Philomena. But most ‘mons just call me Phil. You have an interest in the Legends?”

“...Mainly those three,” Jeana said, nodding at the shrine to the three Legends that haunted her dreams.

“Ah, the Mind Trio!” Phil spoke. “Uxie of Memory, Mesprit of Emotion, and Azelf of Willpower.”

Jeana nodded.

“They’re rather fascinating, then again all the Legends are. But the Mind Trio… They represent what makes me me, and you you,” Phil hummed. “Without them… Well. The world will be a much more dull place, wouldn’t it?”

“...I suppose it would,” Jeana admitted.

“Is something wrong?” Phil asked.

“Is there any mention of… Any mention of why the Legends do what they do?” Jeana asked.

“What do you mean?” Phil asked.

“...Can you tell me another story like this one?” Jeana asked.

“Well. There’s a story about the Bringer of Delusion, Cresselia,” Phil said, a faraway look glazing over her eyes. “When the sun went down the night used to be pure black. And in that black Darkrai delighted. He ran rampant throughout the dreams of mortal Pokemon, perverting them into nightmares. Pokemon were terrified of falling asleep, for fear that they would never again wake up, trapped in an inescapable hell of their own creation. They prayed… And Cresselia arrived. She created an eye in the sky to keep watch on Pokemon as they slept, and for fear of being spotted, Darkrai fled.”

“Why did they do that?” Jeana asked.

“Do what?”

“Why did Darkrai start the nightmares?”

Phil shrugged. “The minds of the Legendaries are not for mortals to know. The one who recounted those tales was only repeating events that they witnessed, I expect.”

“Who told the tales?” Jeana asked.

“A popplio who called herself just ‘the Poet’ came from a far-off region and traveled Leginda, telling stories about the Legendaries everywhere she could,” Phil said.

Jeana nodded. “...Thanks.” She tilted her head. “...Goodnight.”

Phil nodded. “Goodnight to you to.”

As Phil walked away, Jeana’s eyes wandered back to the dais. There were more of the odd runes carved into it, almost blurred out and smudged, like someone had tried hiding it.

Look not into the Pokemon’s eyes.

But in an instant, you’ll have no recollection of who you are.

Return home, but how?

When there is nothing to remember?

Dare not touch the Pokemon’s body.

In but three short days, all emotions will drain away.

Above all, harm not the Pokemon.

In a scant five days, the offender will grow immobile in entirely.

Her heartrate seemed to speed up, and her mouth went dry. She… suddenly felt more uncomfortable about the Mind trio. She got up, and made her way back to the hotel as quickly as possible.