Smoke and Flame - a PMD fanfic (Prologue)

Smoke and Flame

A Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Fanfiction

DISCLAIMER: This fanfic contains mature themes, moderate bl**d, and very mild language. It is not suitable for anyone under the age of 12.

Four Pokemon wake up in a strange world. One is labeled a monster and driven away into the shadows. One is a rogue, an anomaly hunted down by sinister forces. One is a hunter, clinging on to what little life he has left. One is a paradox, a creature born from lightning. They fight the bitter cold, make new allies and enemies, and feel their pasts come back to haunt them. Enjoy - BSDuck

Character Refs:

(He) Smoke - Yveltal

(She) Amethyst - Typhlosion (Hisui)

(He) REDACTED - Linoone (Galar)

(He) REDACTED - Zangoose

(He) Saber - Chein-Pao

(She) Delta - Miraidon

Part 1 - Prologue

A dark, gloomy night. The forest was a black hole, devouring every trace of light that dared enter the greedy thicket. Yet one flame still flickered, a lone rebel in a sea of order. This flame belonged to Amethyst, a Hisuian Typhlosion with a fiery yet sweet personality; a volcano, if you will. What was burnt down came back even stronger. Her purple and red fur blended seamlessly, like a symphony of colour, and yet her violet eyes flickered lifelessly. Fiery wisps erupted from her neck, protecting her from the bitter cold. By their side was Smoke, a Yveltal, yet not what you'd expect from one. His fur was smooth like a cloud, and his eyes were pools of sapphire, contrasting with his bloodshot wings and sharp angles. They were friends, the best of friends, ever since they first met. You find smoke and flame in the same place, after all. It was like an unbreakable knot that destiny tied, a bond that once forged, could never be broken. But even the hottest of flames can turn to ash.

The carpet of leaves crunched bitterly beneath the shady trees, and wind danced through the crooked, frost-tipped fingers. Smoke and Amethyst slowly crept through the thicket, huddling against each other for warmth. But it still felt as cold as ice. Rookidee fluttered through the forest, their calls echoing through the boundless foliage. “Gyaaah! What was that?” Amethyst cried.

“Ghosts. They don’t exactly like company. But it’s safer here than there. Remember, we’re not welcome in the village” Smoke replied.

“It’s just… my spirit. It doesn’t feel right. Almost as if… it doesn’t want to remember.”

“I’m sorry. I need to tell you. I thought it might help, but instead it hurt. Please forgive me for doing this.”

“Doing what?!”

Wzhooosh! A beam of energy fired, blinding even the night itself. Wisps flew from all directions, and flames burst chaotically. The vessel had been split; the rift had opened. Amethyst was not what she once was. Freed from destiny, yet still bound tightly. Flames burning brighter than ever, yet they had lost their spark. What would come out of this chaos? Smoke did not know. But he knew it was for the best. His friend was alive, yet they might end up dead. A new life was ignited, but thousands of old ones burnt. Smoke had done what he knew he had to do from the start. He knew that, for better or worse, the vessel had shattered.

A lonely Cyndaquil was born. She didn’t know where she was, what she was, or even who she was. She tried her best. A peaceful mountain village, or so she thought. Time went by like a violent gust of wind, and yet the mountain air was so placid that it never seemed to happen. Quillava. She had grown up now, no longer a child, and felt like this place was home. Burning brighter and brighter, oblivious of the ash that lay ahead of her. And then it happened. Destruction and chaos in its purest form, or so she thought. A thousand vengeful spirits took hold of her body, but then it happened. He saved her. And in that moment of warmth, the bitter cold took over.

Hisuian Typhlosion. Not a warm orange glow born from the heart of a volcano, but a luminescent purple flame born from the souls of the dead. Not a blistering inferno, but a silent ember, crying out for hope. Not a wildfire bursting with new life, but a mere vessel, purged of free will. A dark fate that befell a once innocent soul. A life that can only be revived by destruction. The destruction that just happened to be standing right in front of her. Smoke nudged her gently, with a look of deep sorrow; a look that he wasn’t meant to make. But sometimes, sorrow is the greatest destroyer of all.

“Where… where am I? Who am I?”

“Don’t worry. You’re safe with me. It’ll wear off eventually.”

As she opened her eyes, a great winged beast emerged, covered in blood-red scars and tattered fur. It took her a while to come to her senses, but once she did, there was only a stifled scream of agony. “Don’t worry. It’s only me. Smoke, remember? I’m the one who saved you from them, but… fine. I’ll admit it. I also did this.”

“Did what?!” Amethyst yelled in pain, before collapsing in nausea. With a look of stress on his face, Smoke tried to support her unconscious body with his wing. He knew this would have consequences, but he hoped that they would only last for a short while. He only had one chance, and if it failed, then his friend may be lost forever.

Her eyes slowly opened, each small movement filled with effort and strain. Her flame flickered on like a spark of flint, each scrape closer to starting an inferno. Her body slowly rose up, colours exploding like a firework. Amethyst was awake. Smoke’s plan had worked, and this was the fruit of his labour. “S… Smoke?” His eyes welled up with tears, drowning him in bittersweet joy. They embraced each other, unbothered by their pain, their only thought of relief. For the first time since that fateful day, Amethyst felt… free. Free from a force that was never there. “What happened?” Amethyst stuttered in confusion.

“I saved you.” He solemnly replied.

“From what?”

Smoke then spoke the only word he could: “Destiny.”