HPM: Aloft on Stardust

It was nearly midnight, and the sky above Raccolto was dark, but Seok Jin-Eun's vision was filled with the bright afterimage of a falling star. He'd been transfixed by its huge, burning trail across the sky, and even before Sophia the scientist had made her announcement, he'd known something wasn't quite natural about it. It had been too bright for him to make out the human figure that Sophia had claimed to see within the star, but he had no reason to doubt the Electivire, and if what she said was true, someone was no doubt hurt and in trouble. Something had to be done! Jin knew that others had heard Sophia and were on the case, but that didn't mean he didn't have an obligation to help.

There was just one problem: the ocean.

Under the circumstances, Jin could have justified borrowing a boat, but his dash to the eastern edge of Raccolto Town hadn't turned up any likely candidates -- and it wasn't as if he knew a thing about boating, anyway, besides some vague ideas about using an oar. That wasn't going to get him anywhere. Swimming was out, especially at the distance he'd need to travel to the far eastern island where the star had landed, and obviously he couldn't walk. The only option left was flight, and Jin had never figured out just how to use his wings. He stared across the ocean and wished that he'd learned -- that he'd taken lessons or something after evolution, maybe, or just gone somewhere open and tried to lift himself up. He wished he'd put in the effort, now that someone's life could depend on it. He wished, more than anything, that he could fly.

Maybe it was the power of that wish, made under the night sky during the Star Festival, that set the rest of his night in motion, or maybe it was the restless twitching of his wings stirring the air behind him and scattering silvery powder. The inadvertent Silver Wind attack pushed Jin forward, and he stumbled and jumped -- but his feet didn't come down again. A glance down made him realize he was hovering a few inches above the ground, and soon Jin registered the sensation of his wings beating furiously, muscle power working with the power of his attack to keep him aloft. Jin's mind scrambled for an explanation, but the only thing that came was a word of warning: don't think about this too hard. You'll ruin it. Just go.

Working under instinct alone, Jin willed himself to ascend, and his wings complied -- the wings of a Flying-type totem whose potential was only beginning to be realized. Once he'd gained a few feet of altitude, he aimed himself at the eastern island and began not just to hover but to fly, wings thrumming with energy and effort. His focus tightened, eyes fixed on the distant island and mind yielding most of its capacity for thought to the power of his Mothim totem. He'd seen the light. He had to follow it. He had to find the light.

Propelled by the Silver Wind, glittering powder trailing behind him like stardust, Seok Jin-Eun made his first flight.

---

Minutes later, pain jogged Jin's conscious mind back to life: the throbbing ache in his back, mostly, but also a deeper fatigue emanating from somewhere in his chest. Each flap of his wings sent another little jolt into his torso, and he could feel himself dipping lower and lower in the air. The eastern island loomed large in his vision, but so did the ocean, perhaps a foot beneath him and getting closer with every weary wing-beat. He couldn't keep himself in the air much longer, instinct told him. The ocean was going to catch him.

The last few seconds of his descent seemed to last forever, and Jin found himself with a surprising amount of time to contemplate his fate. He should have known this would happen; Mothim were migratory, but they weren't endurance flyers, and even human strength couldn't make his totem overcome its natural capacities. As tired as he was, he wouldn't be able to dog-paddle to shore, and he couldn't see any boats close enough to reach him in the span he'd be able to tread water. It was done. Hopefully someone would find his body, call his parents, tend to the animals -- clean up his loose ends. There were so many loose ends. He'd never even told Cleo --

Just as Jin closed his eyes and readied himself for impact, there was a jerking on his shirt collar, and he was ascending again. He could hear the rapid flapping of wings above him, and the realization that something had him made his spent muscles tense, as if he could possibly have the strength to fight. Had he been spared from the sea just to feed some wild Pokemon? There were worse ways to die, Jin thought with resignation, and he opened his eyes to see just what had caught him. Even in the darkness, the shape was familiar -- a smooth head, a flash of long neck -- and when the revelation came to him, he let out a long gasp of relief.

Tropius. It was a Tropius. He'd seen a few in his time at the Great Marsh, and they were strictly herbivorous and shockingly docile even in the wild. He didn't know how this one had seen him, or why it had chosen to save the plummeting man-bug trying to invade its island, but a sudden flush of gratitude brought tears to Jin's eyes. "Thank you," he babbled, more out of need to speak than any conviction that the Pokemon could understand him. "You've -- you've saved me, and maybe you've saved someone else too, if the rest aren't already there to help them. I don't know how I can possibly repay you, but I'll find a way. You like fruit, don't you? The Tropius in the Great Marsh loved pineapples. I think they're in season right now on the islands. I'll get you some pineapples..." If the Tropius understood him, it didn't respond, but who could blame it? It was preoccupied, thought Jin, belated adrenaline trickling into his system and making him giddy.

Even with its passenger's shirt collar clutched in its mouth, the Tropius made a soft landing on the shore, and it set Jin down on the sand with surprising care. He managed to climb shakily to his feet, dredging up what strength the adrenaline could lend him, and looked at the Pokemon with awe. "I promise," he said, "I'll find a way to pay you back for this." The Tropius's only reply was to step towards him, lowering its head -- and, he realized, bringing its fruit-bearing neck within easy reach.

"You're too generous," said Jin, grabbing and detaching one of the Tropius-fruit as gently as he could. His fumbling fingers managed to crack open the peel, and he ate the fruit with more speed than decorum, feeling a surge of strength as the sugary food hit his stomach. "... I can't even explain how much I needed that," he said once he was done, only barely resisting the urge to ask for another. Feeling some degree of mental focus return, he scanned the beach and found it empty save for him and his rescuer. No boats, no other craft, not even footprints -- had the other rescuers made landfall on another shore? He couldn't possibly be the first person here. Could he? It hardly mattered, though; glancing inland, he could see a dull yellow glow through the trees, and he knew he still had work to do.

Jin looked back to the Tropius. "I have to go. You probably know what's going on as well as I do, but I've got to find whoever fell to earth and make sure they're all right. Thank you, and be safe." The Tropius closed its eyes and stepped away, which Jin supposed was as much an acknowledgment of his words as anything, and Jin turned away from his savior and walked towards the forest and the glow.

He'd come this far chasing the light. Now it was time to find it.