Braid
Oct 31, 2018 3:40:48 GMT
Post by admin on Oct 31, 2018 3:40:48 GMT
Author's Note: Hey, guys, what's up? Have the only fic that's ever gotten me into a wiki! :V
So long story short, this is a heavy rewrite of my first and only creepypasta (written back when those were all the rage, so we're talking about literally 2010 jesus christ). A lot of the plot remains intact becauseI'm lazy as sin this Halloween Eve I'd like to keep the original spirit as intact as possible so we can all just bask in the light that was 2010 me. Consequently, the major changes here are basically just fixing up the language and tweaking the Azalea bits just a hair to make a smidgen more sense. Should you like to check out the original for comparison, please feel free to read it on FFN, deviantART, or if you really want to read it in wiki format for some reason, the Creepypasta Wiki.
Otherwise, happy Halloween, everyone!
There are certain rules one must follow while traveling through Ilex Forest.
First, should you consider doing it, never stray from the path. Ever.
Before you looms the darkness of Ilex Forest. You’ve just earned your second badge in the Johto League, and you’re already excited about getting your third. It doesn’t strike you as odd that no one in Azalea Town was willing to talk about the forest. It does, however, strike you as a little odd that no one will tell you how to get through it. Nonetheless, you know from your map that there are two ways to get to Goldenrod City: straight north through the forest or backtrack all the way to Violet City and head due west. One route, you know, will only take you a couple of days. The other will take you a week.
It’s simple math, really. Through the forest. Out the other side. Get Goldenrod’s badge and be halfway to Ecruteak in the time it would have taken you to backtrack just to Violet. Simple. Easy.
But you can’t help but hesitate at the gate between the city and the forest. An elderly couple sits on a bench beside the door, and you swear you can hear the old man mutter something.
“Looks like the Voice of the Forest will be happy tonight.”
You turn to him, but his eyes are glued to the pidgey at the edge of the path. His wife reaches into a brown paper bag at her side and tosses a handful of breadcrumbs to the flock, and the pidgey scramble in a mess of feathers and cooing for a single morsel. Not once do the man or the woman look up at you. It’s as if you weren’t even there.
It’s your imagination, you decide. You didn’t hear him say anything, or if he did, it was about the pidgey.
And with that in mind, you step into the woods.
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there was a tiny village by the sea. Now, this village wasn’t anything particularly special. It had its chieftain and its people and its traditions, just like any other village. What made it at all unusual was the fact that every year, just after the first harvest, all the women took baskets full of fruits and vegetables to the edge of the village and left them there. No ceremony. No festivals. No words spoken among them.
If the children asked—and of course they would—the elders would say that this was to give thanks to the Voice of the Forest.
And that was all.
Second, should you stray from the path, never take your eyes off it. The woods are a strange place, and it’s easy to lose your way. Keep your eyes on the path and walk quickly back.
Take your eyes off it, however, even for a second, and the woods will swallow you up.
Although it’s noon when you start off, the lush spread of leaves overhead quickly blocks out the sun and plunges you into a darkness so deep you could almost swear it’s night. You’re not scared, though. You’ve been through the Ruins of Alph already. You’ve seen gastly in Sprout Tower. You’ve even faced Team Rocket in the depths of Slowpoke Well.
Besides, you have pokémon with you—high-leveled ones, to be exact. If your team could defeat Bugsy and Falkner, then they can face anything. And you know this and repeat this in your mind as you journey deeper and deeper into the darkness.
It’s not long into your journey when you come across the first living thing you’ve seen since the pidgey and the elderly couple. It’s a young boy, peering deep into the underbrush on the side of the path. He’s muttering to himself and leaning forward, and he doesn’t seem to notice as you approach.
“Hey, are you all right?” you ask.
He looks up. His eyes are wide, and his face looks pale, even in the shadows.
“It’s my boss,” he says. “He’s gonna kill me.”
“Your boss is in the woods?”
“No! I mean…” The boy wrings his hands. “I brought his farfetch’d in here to cut wood. But I don’t have any badges, so they wouldn’t listen to me and ran off into the forest! I can’t get them back! Even if I knew where they were, they’ll just run away from me.” He hangs his head. “If my boss finds out I lost his farfetch’d…”
You smile. You know you have the badges to get pokémon to follow you, and you’re always willing to help someone out. Besides, they’re farfetch’d. They’re no match for your team, and you know that, too.
“Let me look for them,” you say.
Looking up, the boy gives you a strange look. “W-what?”
“Sure! Just tell me which way they went. I’ll get them back in no time!”
He grabs your hand and shakes it. “Oh, thank you! You don’t know how much this means to me! They went that way!”
The boy pulls back a branch, and you realize what he was actually staring at: a narrow path, overgrown and nearly swallowed up by the surrounding forest. It wouldn’t be easy finding these farfetch’d, but … they’re just farfetch’d, right?
“Please hurry,” the boy whines. “If my boss realizes how long I’ve been gone, he’ll come out here looking for me.”
So, you nod and step beneath the branch.
You have no doubt this will be easy.
As with all villages and towns and just about anywhere someone can name, the village by the sea was likewise filled with all kinds of people … but it was said that the most beautiful and intelligent of them was the chieftain’s daughter. Her hair was golden like the sun. Her eyes were blue like the sea. Her skin was the color of the moon, and her voice was soft and sweet. All of the men in the village wanted to marry her, but each year, she turned away each and every one of her suitors.
But as beautiful as she was, the chieftain’s daughter was far from sweet. She was proud and vain, and she had no need for old traditions.
“How could anyone believe those silly stories?” the chieftain’s daughter would say. “Why should we give to these gods when they refuse to show themselves to us? Why should we give to these gods at all? We grew the crops, did we not? We built this village, did we not? Why should we give thanks to the gods, when all that we have we made ourselves?”
And the chieftain would respond as patiently as he could, by reminding her over and over again that the gods are gods and therefore must be thanked. He loved her, yes, but he silently hoped that she would someday understand.
Third, should you lose sight of the path, do not panic. If you flee in any direction, you will only go deeper and deeper into the bowels of the forest until nothing would be able to guide you home.
It doesn’t take you long to find the first farfetch’d. There it sits, rooting through a patch of wild onions. You lick your lips and pluck the first poké ball from your belt. It doesn’t even notice you’re there.
That is, it doesn’t notice until you accidentally step on a branch.
The wood snaps beneath your weight, and the sound of it echoes louder than anything else in the forest. For a brief second, everything falls still and quiet, and the farfetch’d simply stares at you. You straighten up and extend a hand.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Just stay there. I’m here to—”
The farfetch’d bolts into the underbrush.
“No! Hey! STOP!”
Without thinking twice, you bolt after it. You’re not entirely aware of where you’re going, and for that reason, it doesn’t take you long to lose sight of the path.
The one thing the chieftain’s daughter had the least patience for was the basket ritual. She knew that it had to be done, and of course, she did it along with the other girls who were of age. Each year, she would take a basket full of fruits and vegetables to the edge of the village, and there, she would place it beside the others. Then, she would retreat back into the village with the others, and like all the others, she would never look back. The baskets would stay where the villagers left them until the next morning, and when everyone went back to the edge of the village, there would be the baskets, completely and utterly empty.
“Why do we do this?” she asked her father one year.
“Because if we refused, our crops would never survive, my child,” her father answered.
“But why?” she said. “What makes the baskets so special?”
The chieftain smiled. “Because, daughter, many years ago, this place was completely barren,” he said. “Nothing would grow, no matter how hard we tried. One day, a god came to our village and said, ‘I can see that your children are hungry, and I would like to help you. If each woman in this village leaves me a basket of your crops every year, I will bless this place for another season, and you will have more food than you can ever imagine.’”
“Is that so?” the daughter replied. “How quaint! Why, then, do we not look back at the baskets when we leave them?”
“Because, daughter,” the chieftain said, “the god comes to the edge of the village each year and spreads her blessings there. We cannot watch her do so, for if we do, the blessing will turn into a curse.”
“Is that so?” she asked.
“Yes, my daughter,” the chieftain said. “The Voice of the Wood is a god like any other, and we must heed her word if we wish to receive her blessings.”
And much to the chieftain’s surprise, she said nothing more.
Fourth, if you travel through the forest calmly, you will eventually come across a place where no light shines through the trees and no pokémon can be heard. At this place will be a shrine. This shrine will not be the one to which the people of Goldenrod and Azalea leave their offerings. Rather, this shrine will be older and untended and covered in vines. Should you come across it, you must leave an offering. This offering can be anything: food, jewelry, anything you value. The Voice of the Forest will be pleased with whatever you leave.
Never forget this rule. If you pass by this shrine and fail to leave an offering, you will never see the world outside the forest again.
After some time, you lose sight of the farfetch’d. If you were old enough to curse, you would have done so right about now.
Looking back, you realize that you have lost track of the path too.
“Nice,” you say to yourself. “Real nice.”
Huffing, you continue in what you think would be the best direction: forward. After all, the forest can’t possibly go on forever.
One year, the chieftain’s daughter came across a handsome young hunter. He, like many others in the village, was enchanted by the daughter’s sunlight hair and ocean eyes and wispy voice. And just like many others in the village, he wanted nothing more than to take her as his wife.
So, one day, not long before the villagers were to leave an offering to the Voice of the Forest, he approached her and grasped her moon-white hand.
“My lady,” he said, “I pledge to you that I will do anything that would make you happy if you give me your hand in marriage in return.”
“Anything?” the chieftain’s daughter asked.
“Anything,” he told her.
And the chieftain’s daughter smiled, for she knew immediately that this hunter was just as simple as the other villagers. She, on the other hand, was smart and cunning, and already, she knew exactly what she had to do.
Fifth, if you fail to leave something at the shrine and if you walk far enough away that you can no longer see its vine-covered stones, you will come across an old, wooden house with a blood-red door. There will always be smoke coming from the chimney. The air around it will smell like roasted duck and exotic spices. And you will feel a hunger unlike anything you have felt before.
Under no circumstances should you approach this house.
If you thought the path was dark, the forest beyond it is somehow darker. You don’t know how long you’ve been walking. Overhead, the canopy closes and closes and closes until it’s a thick blanket of leaves and until the darkness around you hurts to look at. You feel a slight chill, but you ignore it, and you ignore the claustrophobic feeling of the darkness pressing in all around you. If you just walk in a straight line, eventually, you would see something, you reason. Eventually, you’ll step into a clearing or find the other edge of the forest or something. And in any case, you’re not afraid of the dark. After all, you have two badges and six pokémon so far. You can face anything.
After what feels like hours, you spot a beam of light slashing through the darkness from someplace overhead. A painful, almost animalistic spike of panic mixed with relief hammers into your head, and you forget yourself and run forwards, towards it, tripping over underbrush and slipping on dead leaves, until you finally reach it. Upon closer inspection, you realize the beam of light is actually simply a gap in the canopy, just large enough to let a ray of evening sunlight slash through the darkness and settle on a pile of rocks that, if you squint hard enough, you can just barely tell is a shrine.
The shrine looks old and worn, and so much of both that you thought it was just a pile of rocks covered with vines at first. Your feet climb onto its stone base, and your hand clears off some of the vines on its face. Even after some of the vines are gone, you can’t quite tell which old god the shrine might be dedicated to; the inscriptions across its flat surface are worn and in a language you can’t recognize. You only realize it’s a shrine because it resembles the small, squat ones you learned about in school and because you can still see a small pile of offerings: a doll with a faded face, a few rusty coins, small animal bones.
You shrug and walk away. It’s an old shrine. Nothing special, you decide. It’s not like anyone believes in the god it might have been for these days, right?
This will be your second mistake.
A year passed after the hunter pledged his loyalty to the chieftain’s daughter.
Each day for one full year, the chieftain’s daughter would encounter this hunter. On each of those days, she would invent new tasks for him to complete, and without fail, he would obey her every whim. As the year wore on, the tasks grew more and more difficult.
“I want you to collect for me the moon’s reflection,” she said one day.
That night, her suitor took his silver bowl to the edge of the sea and filled it with water. Once not a drop more could fit within it, he hurried to the chieftain’s daughter and showed her its surface. There, she saw the moon’s reflection shimmering on the calm water. Yet this did not satisfy her.
“Go into the prairie and find the biggest tauros. Bring its hide to me,” she said another day.
Her suitor went that afternoon and chased down a massive tauros whose hooves made the earth shake whenever it ran. With his bow and arrow, the suitor shot down the beast, and with his knife, he cut away its skin. This he brought to the chieftain’s daughter. Still, she was not satisfied.
“Bring to me the winter wind,” she said on a third day.
Her suitor went to the highest mountain and found a snorunt. Using his hunting net, he ensnared the creature and brought it down to the village to show the chieftain’s daughter. From its mouth, it blew the coldest wind, covering the houses of the village in a fine frost. And still, she was not satisfied.
And on and on the year went, with more and more tasks like these. And each day, the chieftain’s daughter would inspect the hunter’s work, and she would say, "Well, my love, your feat was impressive, but I am still not made happy."
And every day, her suitor would simply nod and smile and promise to come back the next day to try again until the chieftain’s daughter would finally agree to marry him.
When the crops grew ripe and the time to harvest them approached, the chieftain’s daughter said to her suitor, "My love, your feat was impressive, but I am still not made happy."
Her suitor replied, “I understand, my lady. I will do anything to make you happy if it means you would give me your hand in marriage.”
“Anything?” the chieftain’s daughter asked.
“Anything,” the suitor said.
“Then, I want your net,” she told him, for she knew he would never agree to the plan she had waited all year to enact.
At first, he was surprised to hear her request. “My net?”
“Your net,” she said. “If you let me use your net tomorrow afternoon after all the women place their baskets by the edge of the village, I will gladly become your wife.”
“But my lady,” the hunter protested, “what ever would you want to use my net for?”
“Why, to catch something, of course,” she answered. “Something that will please the Voice of the Forest.”
And the hunter, who was so very in love with the beautiful daughter of the chieftain, could only smile and give her his net, for he had no idea she didn’t believe in the Voice of the Forest at all.
Sixth, should you ignore all of the warnings above and approach, an old woman will emerge from the house. Her hair will be as silver as the moon, her eyes will be as black as the ocean depths, and her voice will be like the moaning winds. She will invite you inside to have supper with her, and she will do it using a voice made of honey and words made of sugar.
If she makes this offer to you, you have only one option for survival.
Run.
Once again, you find yourself wandering through the darkness of the forest. A nagging worry starts to overtake you. While you’re pretty sure it’s impossible for a place to go on forever, you start to wonder if you have enough food and water to make it back to civilization. It occurs to you that you have no idea how big Ilex Forest actually is, so you don’t even know if you have enough supplies to get to someplace safe. Sure, you know how to forage, but you can barely see the brush in front of you, let alone anything edible within it. There don’t even seem to be pokémon to hunt if all else fails.
That’s when you realize something that settles, heavy and cold, in the pit of your gut: there aren’t any pokémon. You can’t hear the cries of zubat or hoothoot in the trees above you, there aren’t any rattata or paras scrambling through the underbrush, and even the trunks of the trees are completely devoid of insect pokémon. As far as you can tell, you are completely alone.
Your heart beats quickly when you realize this fact, and it takes all of your willpower to keep walking slowly through the woods. It would be a bad thing if you suddenly burst into a run when you’re lost in a forest. This is one of the basic rules you learned before setting out on your journey. You’d get yourself even more lost, and even worse, you’d end up exhausting yourself faster. So, taking a deep breath, you confine your sudden bout of fear to uncontrollable shaking as you pass through another thatch of trees and underbrush.
On the other side, you suddenly come to a clearing, and in the middle of it is a stone house. Both came abruptly; the way ahead of you had been nothing but a wall of trees and soupy darkness a second ago. Still, you push aside any concern about how strange this all is, and instead, you blink and thank the legendaries that there’s a sign of civilization right in front of you. Even better, smoke is curling from the chimney, and the air is heavy with the scents of cooking meat and spices. That tells you two things. First, it means that you might get something to eat (because you realize now just how hungry you are), and second, it means that there are people inside who might give you directions out of the forest.
By this point, you abandon the idea of finding the farfetch’d. Instead, you run towards the red door.
And as if by magic, when you’re halfway between the trees and the house, the door swings open, and you hear an old, sweet voice coming from inside.
“Hello, dear,” it tells you, and the words flow thick around you, like warm honey. “What might a nice child be doing all the way out here? You must be such a strong trainer. Perhaps the champion?”
You blush. “Well, uh, I have two badges…”
“Ah!” the woman says. “You must be very strong indeed. Come inside. You probably want some rest, and I haven’t had much company lately. Come sit by the fire and tell me all about your adventures.”
How could you say no?
The chieftain’s daughter was happier than usual that year. She even sang as she gathered the most fruits and vegetables than any other villager to put into her basket. With the basket in her arms, she trotted up to the edge of the village and placed her basket right next to the others with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Then, without saying a word to the other townspeople, she walked away, still humming that tune. No one thought twice about this. After all, the chieftain’s daughter had become a young lady that year; it was almost time for her to wed and take her place within their society. Young ladies had no time for childish pursuits like questioning their gods, and so, perhaps, the chieftain’s daughter had realized this at last.
Or, at least, that was what the villagers had hoped.
But as soon as the others had placed their baskets and left, the chieftain’s daughter crept back to the baskets and waited. She waited there all day, hidden among the baskets and watching for anything to come, completely undetected by the rest of the village. Even as she heard the villagers shout and sing in the fields, she never moved an inch from where she was. Eventually, she began to doze, head drooping inch by inch downward until she heard a rustle.
Looking up, she saw a shadow looming over the baskets and a pair of arms reach down towards the ripest pecha berry. The chieftain’s daughter didn’t hesitate. She wouldn’t let this chance pass her up. So, without seeing who the stranger was, she flung her suitor’s net into the air to catch the shadow.
“Ah-ha!” she exclaimed. “You’re mine at last!”
And when she ran to the net, she found in it the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
Seventh, if you, like many others, have been lured into the house, do not take any food or drink that the woman gives you. Get out of the house as quickly as possible. Do not explain yourself to the woman.
Eighth, if you fail to do this, the woman will ask you to stay with her for the night. Do not answer her with a yes or a no. If you answer her with a yes, you will be trapped within that cottage until the next visitor comes.
May Celebi have mercy on you if you say no.
You decide that the chicken—you assume it was chicken, but you can’t quite tell—is the tastiest, juiciest piece of meat you have ever eaten. The water must have been drawn from the freshest spring ever created, and you have nothing but praise to offer for the steamed vegetables and berry pie that the woman offers afterwards.
All the while, you tell her all about your adventures. You tell her you were one child of three who were given a starter pokémon by Professor Elm in New Bark Town. You tell her about your battle against Falkner (shot down by your starter) and Bugsy (stomped by your geodude). You detail the way you captured all five of the other pokémon with you—what they’re like, which one is your favorite, everything. You even tell her about your battles against the sages in Sprout Tower and Team Rocket in Slowpoke Well. The woman says nothing, but she smiles and looks impressed at appropriate moments. You don’t even notice that she’s not eating anything. Nor do you notice how easily the words come out of your mouth.
After everything is said and after the old woman clears the dishes off the table, she finally speaks.
“What incredible stories,” she tells you. “My, you’re quite an accomplished trainer! What might you be doing this far into Ilex Forest, though? Are you heading to Goldenrod City?”
You shrug. “Well, I was, but there’s this guy who lost a farfetch’d somewhere in here. I was trying to get it back, but I got lost.”
She sighs. “Oh, you poor dear! Don’t you worry. The farfetch’d surely got back to its master by now. They usually do. But you must have gotten exhausted, chasing after that bird. Why don’t you spend the night here to rest? Tomorrow, I can give you directions back to Azalea Town or to Goldenrod, whichever you’d like.”
Although her offer is generous, something about it doesn’t sit right with you. You can’t quite explain what it is, but something sends a shiver down your spine. Smiling, you stand.
“That sounds really nice, ma’am, but I really should be going. If you could just tell me which way is Goldenrod, I’ll be on my way.”
The old woman’s expression blanks, and she reaches out to grab your wrist. Right then, you shiver again, but this time, it’s because you notice that her hand is stone-cold.
Right then, the chieftain’s daughter gasped. The stranger in the net stood tall, and her body was adorned with bright, green silks and delicate flowers. Her eyes were blue and deep, like they had seen more than the chieftain’s daughter could ever hope to see. All around her, long, green hair floated, as if it hung in a breeze of its own.
The woman reached out, stretching an arm with skin as pale as the snow towards the daughter.
“Princess,” she said, “why in the world did you throw a net over me?”
“Are you the Voice of the Forest?” the chieftain’s daughter asked.
The woman smiled sweetly. “Some people call me that, I suppose. And I know you are the daughter of this village’s leader. I have been watching you for some time, but I cannot understand why you would want to capture me in a net.”
“You say you had been watching me, so how could you not know?” the daughter asked. “It’s all very simple. I want to show everyone in this village that you’re no god.”
“But why?” the god asked.
“Because I know what you really are,” the daughter said. “The stories about gods are silly little things, but I figured it out all on my own. You are no god. You are a thief, are you not? You steal from this village every year because you made everyone think you can cast a spell to make our crops grow. Is that not the truth?”
The Voice of the Forest listened patiently, and when the chieftain’s daughter finished, she smiled just as sweetly as she had before the girl began. Then, she grabbed hold of the net and ripped it in two.
“It is true that I am not what you would consider a god,” she said, “but I am something else. My brothers and sisters would eat your eyes and burn you alive if you said to them what you just said to me.”
The chieftain’s daughter laughed. “I am not afraid of you.”
“I hardly expect you to be,” the woman in green replied. “I will tell you this. I am also not my brothers and sisters. I will let you live, but I will show you what I am. You scoff at this village and its beliefs, so I will bless you by taking it away. Watch.”
Ninth, remember always that Celebi is with you.
“H-hey!” you exclaim. “Let me go!”
The old woman’s grip on your wrist tightens. “I’m sorry, child. She made me do this.”
Your joints feel stiff. At first, you think it’s just fear, but looking down, you realize it’s not. Your skin has turned rough and brown, and small twigs are starting to grow from your arms.
You want to scream, but you can’t. Your mouth is open, but no sound comes from it.
The old woman guides you outside. You can feel the cold wind all around you, but it passes right through your clothes and your skin and directly into your bones. Your insides feel hot, like they’re trying to boil up against your skin. Groaning, you writhe and try to break away from the old woman, but she simply guides you to a spot near the house.
Your feet break out of your sneakers. Your toes thrust into the ground. The moist earth swallows your feet, and the shadows of the forest pull at your arms and head.
Eventually, you can’t think straight as your body stretches and thickens. Your legs fuse together into a single trunk, and wood springs up from your throat and fills your mouth. Yet none of this feels painful to you. Uncomfortable yes, but somehow, as your mind begins to fog over, you feel as if this is simply … natural.
Looking down at the old woman one last time, you notice another creature standing beside her. At first, you think it’s a lady dressed in green, but at second glance, you see a small, pixie-like pokémon with large, blue eyes locked on yours.
“Another offering,” the old woman says wearily. “Are you satisfied now?”
The creature nods, and this is the last thing you see.
Panicked by the green woman’s threat, the chieftain’s daughter ran into the village, but she found no help. All around her, she watched her people turn into trees, one by one. She watched as her father’s arms grew into branches, as his face disappeared into bark, as his legs thrust into the ground where he stood. She watched her suitor drop his quiver and grow leaves from his head. She watched as the children froze where they were, their eyes wide and terrified as they, too, became trees.
After a while, the chieftain’s daughter screamed and ran into one of the houses. The lady in green followed her, breaking down the red door without even touching it. There, as the chieftain’s daughter sat on the floor and cried, the lady in green knelt next to her and touched her on the head.
“There, there,” she said. “You will not be alone. The people of this village will always watch over you. And, if that is not enough, I will be with you. I have even given you a gift. You will not know how to use it until much later, of course, but I will have time to teach you some other day.”
She stood. The chieftain’s daughter still said nothing. Instead, she could only glare at the woman in green.
“Someday,” the Voice of the Forest said, “you will come to love the people of the village as they are, and you will come to love me. Until that day, use the gift I have given you to bring me your offerings. Someday, they might just be enough to earn my forgiveness.”
The woman flashed one more smile, and for the first time, the chieftain’s daughter felt afraid.
The Voice of the Forest left her like that, and the years marched on afterwards. The homes and lodges of Ilex Village crumbled over time—all of them, that is, except the house the chieftain’s daughter had chosen. It grew with her, shifting from a lonely shack to a lonelier cottage, and she, too, grew older with each passing spring. Always old, but never dead. Her hair turned from sunlight golden to a pale silver, her eyes lost the beautiful sapphire blue that once attracted the sorry hunter, and her moon-colored skin grew as cold as her heart, but she would never die.
Instead, she built a stone shrine to her mistress, and there, she used the magic that the Voice of the Forest had given her—the same magic that she had witnessed herself—to offer countless lost children to the green woman.
I’m so sorry.
In the heart of Ilex Forest, where the trees are so thick they block out the sun, a sapling stands, surrounded by hundreds of tall, old trees. At its base are six poké balls that gather dirt and dust. You know they contain pokémon. High-leveled ones, to be exact. They once defeated Bugsy. But you can’t reach them.
You can hear them now—the trees, that is. All around you, they’re weeping and moaning. They can’t sleep. They can’t rest. They can’t scream. All they can do is stand around the cottage of their chieftain’s daughter, watching as the old witch turns another helpless child into a gift for the Voice of the Forest. Eventually, you find yourself joining them, yearning to warn each new trainer that comes by.
But you can’t.
You can’t move.
You can’t scream.
You can’t sleep.
You can only watch.
They say that if one traveled the wrong way through the trees of Ilex, they might hear the Voice of the Forest, reminding each and every passerby to remember her and her brothers and sisters.
For if there’s one thing the old gods do not like, it’s to be forgotten.
So long story short, this is a heavy rewrite of my first and only creepypasta (written back when those were all the rage, so we're talking about literally 2010 jesus christ). A lot of the plot remains intact because
Otherwise, happy Halloween, everyone!
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There are certain rules one must follow while traveling through Ilex Forest.
First, should you consider doing it, never stray from the path. Ever.
Before you looms the darkness of Ilex Forest. You’ve just earned your second badge in the Johto League, and you’re already excited about getting your third. It doesn’t strike you as odd that no one in Azalea Town was willing to talk about the forest. It does, however, strike you as a little odd that no one will tell you how to get through it. Nonetheless, you know from your map that there are two ways to get to Goldenrod City: straight north through the forest or backtrack all the way to Violet City and head due west. One route, you know, will only take you a couple of days. The other will take you a week.
It’s simple math, really. Through the forest. Out the other side. Get Goldenrod’s badge and be halfway to Ecruteak in the time it would have taken you to backtrack just to Violet. Simple. Easy.
But you can’t help but hesitate at the gate between the city and the forest. An elderly couple sits on a bench beside the door, and you swear you can hear the old man mutter something.
“Looks like the Voice of the Forest will be happy tonight.”
You turn to him, but his eyes are glued to the pidgey at the edge of the path. His wife reaches into a brown paper bag at her side and tosses a handful of breadcrumbs to the flock, and the pidgey scramble in a mess of feathers and cooing for a single morsel. Not once do the man or the woman look up at you. It’s as if you weren’t even there.
It’s your imagination, you decide. You didn’t hear him say anything, or if he did, it was about the pidgey.
And with that in mind, you step into the woods.
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there was a tiny village by the sea. Now, this village wasn’t anything particularly special. It had its chieftain and its people and its traditions, just like any other village. What made it at all unusual was the fact that every year, just after the first harvest, all the women took baskets full of fruits and vegetables to the edge of the village and left them there. No ceremony. No festivals. No words spoken among them.
If the children asked—and of course they would—the elders would say that this was to give thanks to the Voice of the Forest.
And that was all.
Second, should you stray from the path, never take your eyes off it. The woods are a strange place, and it’s easy to lose your way. Keep your eyes on the path and walk quickly back.
Take your eyes off it, however, even for a second, and the woods will swallow you up.
Although it’s noon when you start off, the lush spread of leaves overhead quickly blocks out the sun and plunges you into a darkness so deep you could almost swear it’s night. You’re not scared, though. You’ve been through the Ruins of Alph already. You’ve seen gastly in Sprout Tower. You’ve even faced Team Rocket in the depths of Slowpoke Well.
Besides, you have pokémon with you—high-leveled ones, to be exact. If your team could defeat Bugsy and Falkner, then they can face anything. And you know this and repeat this in your mind as you journey deeper and deeper into the darkness.
It’s not long into your journey when you come across the first living thing you’ve seen since the pidgey and the elderly couple. It’s a young boy, peering deep into the underbrush on the side of the path. He’s muttering to himself and leaning forward, and he doesn’t seem to notice as you approach.
“Hey, are you all right?” you ask.
He looks up. His eyes are wide, and his face looks pale, even in the shadows.
“It’s my boss,” he says. “He’s gonna kill me.”
“Your boss is in the woods?”
“No! I mean…” The boy wrings his hands. “I brought his farfetch’d in here to cut wood. But I don’t have any badges, so they wouldn’t listen to me and ran off into the forest! I can’t get them back! Even if I knew where they were, they’ll just run away from me.” He hangs his head. “If my boss finds out I lost his farfetch’d…”
You smile. You know you have the badges to get pokémon to follow you, and you’re always willing to help someone out. Besides, they’re farfetch’d. They’re no match for your team, and you know that, too.
“Let me look for them,” you say.
Looking up, the boy gives you a strange look. “W-what?”
“Sure! Just tell me which way they went. I’ll get them back in no time!”
He grabs your hand and shakes it. “Oh, thank you! You don’t know how much this means to me! They went that way!”
The boy pulls back a branch, and you realize what he was actually staring at: a narrow path, overgrown and nearly swallowed up by the surrounding forest. It wouldn’t be easy finding these farfetch’d, but … they’re just farfetch’d, right?
“Please hurry,” the boy whines. “If my boss realizes how long I’ve been gone, he’ll come out here looking for me.”
So, you nod and step beneath the branch.
You have no doubt this will be easy.
As with all villages and towns and just about anywhere someone can name, the village by the sea was likewise filled with all kinds of people … but it was said that the most beautiful and intelligent of them was the chieftain’s daughter. Her hair was golden like the sun. Her eyes were blue like the sea. Her skin was the color of the moon, and her voice was soft and sweet. All of the men in the village wanted to marry her, but each year, she turned away each and every one of her suitors.
But as beautiful as she was, the chieftain’s daughter was far from sweet. She was proud and vain, and she had no need for old traditions.
“How could anyone believe those silly stories?” the chieftain’s daughter would say. “Why should we give to these gods when they refuse to show themselves to us? Why should we give to these gods at all? We grew the crops, did we not? We built this village, did we not? Why should we give thanks to the gods, when all that we have we made ourselves?”
And the chieftain would respond as patiently as he could, by reminding her over and over again that the gods are gods and therefore must be thanked. He loved her, yes, but he silently hoped that she would someday understand.
Third, should you lose sight of the path, do not panic. If you flee in any direction, you will only go deeper and deeper into the bowels of the forest until nothing would be able to guide you home.
It doesn’t take you long to find the first farfetch’d. There it sits, rooting through a patch of wild onions. You lick your lips and pluck the first poké ball from your belt. It doesn’t even notice you’re there.
That is, it doesn’t notice until you accidentally step on a branch.
The wood snaps beneath your weight, and the sound of it echoes louder than anything else in the forest. For a brief second, everything falls still and quiet, and the farfetch’d simply stares at you. You straighten up and extend a hand.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Just stay there. I’m here to—”
The farfetch’d bolts into the underbrush.
“No! Hey! STOP!”
Without thinking twice, you bolt after it. You’re not entirely aware of where you’re going, and for that reason, it doesn’t take you long to lose sight of the path.
The one thing the chieftain’s daughter had the least patience for was the basket ritual. She knew that it had to be done, and of course, she did it along with the other girls who were of age. Each year, she would take a basket full of fruits and vegetables to the edge of the village, and there, she would place it beside the others. Then, she would retreat back into the village with the others, and like all the others, she would never look back. The baskets would stay where the villagers left them until the next morning, and when everyone went back to the edge of the village, there would be the baskets, completely and utterly empty.
“Why do we do this?” she asked her father one year.
“Because if we refused, our crops would never survive, my child,” her father answered.
“But why?” she said. “What makes the baskets so special?”
The chieftain smiled. “Because, daughter, many years ago, this place was completely barren,” he said. “Nothing would grow, no matter how hard we tried. One day, a god came to our village and said, ‘I can see that your children are hungry, and I would like to help you. If each woman in this village leaves me a basket of your crops every year, I will bless this place for another season, and you will have more food than you can ever imagine.’”
“Is that so?” the daughter replied. “How quaint! Why, then, do we not look back at the baskets when we leave them?”
“Because, daughter,” the chieftain said, “the god comes to the edge of the village each year and spreads her blessings there. We cannot watch her do so, for if we do, the blessing will turn into a curse.”
“Is that so?” she asked.
“Yes, my daughter,” the chieftain said. “The Voice of the Wood is a god like any other, and we must heed her word if we wish to receive her blessings.”
And much to the chieftain’s surprise, she said nothing more.
Fourth, if you travel through the forest calmly, you will eventually come across a place where no light shines through the trees and no pokémon can be heard. At this place will be a shrine. This shrine will not be the one to which the people of Goldenrod and Azalea leave their offerings. Rather, this shrine will be older and untended and covered in vines. Should you come across it, you must leave an offering. This offering can be anything: food, jewelry, anything you value. The Voice of the Forest will be pleased with whatever you leave.
Never forget this rule. If you pass by this shrine and fail to leave an offering, you will never see the world outside the forest again.
After some time, you lose sight of the farfetch’d. If you were old enough to curse, you would have done so right about now.
Looking back, you realize that you have lost track of the path too.
“Nice,” you say to yourself. “Real nice.”
Huffing, you continue in what you think would be the best direction: forward. After all, the forest can’t possibly go on forever.
One year, the chieftain’s daughter came across a handsome young hunter. He, like many others in the village, was enchanted by the daughter’s sunlight hair and ocean eyes and wispy voice. And just like many others in the village, he wanted nothing more than to take her as his wife.
So, one day, not long before the villagers were to leave an offering to the Voice of the Forest, he approached her and grasped her moon-white hand.
“My lady,” he said, “I pledge to you that I will do anything that would make you happy if you give me your hand in marriage in return.”
“Anything?” the chieftain’s daughter asked.
“Anything,” he told her.
And the chieftain’s daughter smiled, for she knew immediately that this hunter was just as simple as the other villagers. She, on the other hand, was smart and cunning, and already, she knew exactly what she had to do.
Fifth, if you fail to leave something at the shrine and if you walk far enough away that you can no longer see its vine-covered stones, you will come across an old, wooden house with a blood-red door. There will always be smoke coming from the chimney. The air around it will smell like roasted duck and exotic spices. And you will feel a hunger unlike anything you have felt before.
Under no circumstances should you approach this house.
If you thought the path was dark, the forest beyond it is somehow darker. You don’t know how long you’ve been walking. Overhead, the canopy closes and closes and closes until it’s a thick blanket of leaves and until the darkness around you hurts to look at. You feel a slight chill, but you ignore it, and you ignore the claustrophobic feeling of the darkness pressing in all around you. If you just walk in a straight line, eventually, you would see something, you reason. Eventually, you’ll step into a clearing or find the other edge of the forest or something. And in any case, you’re not afraid of the dark. After all, you have two badges and six pokémon so far. You can face anything.
After what feels like hours, you spot a beam of light slashing through the darkness from someplace overhead. A painful, almost animalistic spike of panic mixed with relief hammers into your head, and you forget yourself and run forwards, towards it, tripping over underbrush and slipping on dead leaves, until you finally reach it. Upon closer inspection, you realize the beam of light is actually simply a gap in the canopy, just large enough to let a ray of evening sunlight slash through the darkness and settle on a pile of rocks that, if you squint hard enough, you can just barely tell is a shrine.
The shrine looks old and worn, and so much of both that you thought it was just a pile of rocks covered with vines at first. Your feet climb onto its stone base, and your hand clears off some of the vines on its face. Even after some of the vines are gone, you can’t quite tell which old god the shrine might be dedicated to; the inscriptions across its flat surface are worn and in a language you can’t recognize. You only realize it’s a shrine because it resembles the small, squat ones you learned about in school and because you can still see a small pile of offerings: a doll with a faded face, a few rusty coins, small animal bones.
You shrug and walk away. It’s an old shrine. Nothing special, you decide. It’s not like anyone believes in the god it might have been for these days, right?
This will be your second mistake.
A year passed after the hunter pledged his loyalty to the chieftain’s daughter.
Each day for one full year, the chieftain’s daughter would encounter this hunter. On each of those days, she would invent new tasks for him to complete, and without fail, he would obey her every whim. As the year wore on, the tasks grew more and more difficult.
“I want you to collect for me the moon’s reflection,” she said one day.
That night, her suitor took his silver bowl to the edge of the sea and filled it with water. Once not a drop more could fit within it, he hurried to the chieftain’s daughter and showed her its surface. There, she saw the moon’s reflection shimmering on the calm water. Yet this did not satisfy her.
“Go into the prairie and find the biggest tauros. Bring its hide to me,” she said another day.
Her suitor went that afternoon and chased down a massive tauros whose hooves made the earth shake whenever it ran. With his bow and arrow, the suitor shot down the beast, and with his knife, he cut away its skin. This he brought to the chieftain’s daughter. Still, she was not satisfied.
“Bring to me the winter wind,” she said on a third day.
Her suitor went to the highest mountain and found a snorunt. Using his hunting net, he ensnared the creature and brought it down to the village to show the chieftain’s daughter. From its mouth, it blew the coldest wind, covering the houses of the village in a fine frost. And still, she was not satisfied.
And on and on the year went, with more and more tasks like these. And each day, the chieftain’s daughter would inspect the hunter’s work, and she would say, "Well, my love, your feat was impressive, but I am still not made happy."
And every day, her suitor would simply nod and smile and promise to come back the next day to try again until the chieftain’s daughter would finally agree to marry him.
When the crops grew ripe and the time to harvest them approached, the chieftain’s daughter said to her suitor, "My love, your feat was impressive, but I am still not made happy."
Her suitor replied, “I understand, my lady. I will do anything to make you happy if it means you would give me your hand in marriage.”
“Anything?” the chieftain’s daughter asked.
“Anything,” the suitor said.
“Then, I want your net,” she told him, for she knew he would never agree to the plan she had waited all year to enact.
At first, he was surprised to hear her request. “My net?”
“Your net,” she said. “If you let me use your net tomorrow afternoon after all the women place their baskets by the edge of the village, I will gladly become your wife.”
“But my lady,” the hunter protested, “what ever would you want to use my net for?”
“Why, to catch something, of course,” she answered. “Something that will please the Voice of the Forest.”
And the hunter, who was so very in love with the beautiful daughter of the chieftain, could only smile and give her his net, for he had no idea she didn’t believe in the Voice of the Forest at all.
Sixth, should you ignore all of the warnings above and approach, an old woman will emerge from the house. Her hair will be as silver as the moon, her eyes will be as black as the ocean depths, and her voice will be like the moaning winds. She will invite you inside to have supper with her, and she will do it using a voice made of honey and words made of sugar.
If she makes this offer to you, you have only one option for survival.
Run.
Once again, you find yourself wandering through the darkness of the forest. A nagging worry starts to overtake you. While you’re pretty sure it’s impossible for a place to go on forever, you start to wonder if you have enough food and water to make it back to civilization. It occurs to you that you have no idea how big Ilex Forest actually is, so you don’t even know if you have enough supplies to get to someplace safe. Sure, you know how to forage, but you can barely see the brush in front of you, let alone anything edible within it. There don’t even seem to be pokémon to hunt if all else fails.
That’s when you realize something that settles, heavy and cold, in the pit of your gut: there aren’t any pokémon. You can’t hear the cries of zubat or hoothoot in the trees above you, there aren’t any rattata or paras scrambling through the underbrush, and even the trunks of the trees are completely devoid of insect pokémon. As far as you can tell, you are completely alone.
Your heart beats quickly when you realize this fact, and it takes all of your willpower to keep walking slowly through the woods. It would be a bad thing if you suddenly burst into a run when you’re lost in a forest. This is one of the basic rules you learned before setting out on your journey. You’d get yourself even more lost, and even worse, you’d end up exhausting yourself faster. So, taking a deep breath, you confine your sudden bout of fear to uncontrollable shaking as you pass through another thatch of trees and underbrush.
On the other side, you suddenly come to a clearing, and in the middle of it is a stone house. Both came abruptly; the way ahead of you had been nothing but a wall of trees and soupy darkness a second ago. Still, you push aside any concern about how strange this all is, and instead, you blink and thank the legendaries that there’s a sign of civilization right in front of you. Even better, smoke is curling from the chimney, and the air is heavy with the scents of cooking meat and spices. That tells you two things. First, it means that you might get something to eat (because you realize now just how hungry you are), and second, it means that there are people inside who might give you directions out of the forest.
By this point, you abandon the idea of finding the farfetch’d. Instead, you run towards the red door.
And as if by magic, when you’re halfway between the trees and the house, the door swings open, and you hear an old, sweet voice coming from inside.
“Hello, dear,” it tells you, and the words flow thick around you, like warm honey. “What might a nice child be doing all the way out here? You must be such a strong trainer. Perhaps the champion?”
You blush. “Well, uh, I have two badges…”
“Ah!” the woman says. “You must be very strong indeed. Come inside. You probably want some rest, and I haven’t had much company lately. Come sit by the fire and tell me all about your adventures.”
How could you say no?
The chieftain’s daughter was happier than usual that year. She even sang as she gathered the most fruits and vegetables than any other villager to put into her basket. With the basket in her arms, she trotted up to the edge of the village and placed her basket right next to the others with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Then, without saying a word to the other townspeople, she walked away, still humming that tune. No one thought twice about this. After all, the chieftain’s daughter had become a young lady that year; it was almost time for her to wed and take her place within their society. Young ladies had no time for childish pursuits like questioning their gods, and so, perhaps, the chieftain’s daughter had realized this at last.
Or, at least, that was what the villagers had hoped.
But as soon as the others had placed their baskets and left, the chieftain’s daughter crept back to the baskets and waited. She waited there all day, hidden among the baskets and watching for anything to come, completely undetected by the rest of the village. Even as she heard the villagers shout and sing in the fields, she never moved an inch from where she was. Eventually, she began to doze, head drooping inch by inch downward until she heard a rustle.
Looking up, she saw a shadow looming over the baskets and a pair of arms reach down towards the ripest pecha berry. The chieftain’s daughter didn’t hesitate. She wouldn’t let this chance pass her up. So, without seeing who the stranger was, she flung her suitor’s net into the air to catch the shadow.
“Ah-ha!” she exclaimed. “You’re mine at last!”
And when she ran to the net, she found in it the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
Seventh, if you, like many others, have been lured into the house, do not take any food or drink that the woman gives you. Get out of the house as quickly as possible. Do not explain yourself to the woman.
Eighth, if you fail to do this, the woman will ask you to stay with her for the night. Do not answer her with a yes or a no. If you answer her with a yes, you will be trapped within that cottage until the next visitor comes.
May Celebi have mercy on you if you say no.
You decide that the chicken—you assume it was chicken, but you can’t quite tell—is the tastiest, juiciest piece of meat you have ever eaten. The water must have been drawn from the freshest spring ever created, and you have nothing but praise to offer for the steamed vegetables and berry pie that the woman offers afterwards.
All the while, you tell her all about your adventures. You tell her you were one child of three who were given a starter pokémon by Professor Elm in New Bark Town. You tell her about your battle against Falkner (shot down by your starter) and Bugsy (stomped by your geodude). You detail the way you captured all five of the other pokémon with you—what they’re like, which one is your favorite, everything. You even tell her about your battles against the sages in Sprout Tower and Team Rocket in Slowpoke Well. The woman says nothing, but she smiles and looks impressed at appropriate moments. You don’t even notice that she’s not eating anything. Nor do you notice how easily the words come out of your mouth.
After everything is said and after the old woman clears the dishes off the table, she finally speaks.
“What incredible stories,” she tells you. “My, you’re quite an accomplished trainer! What might you be doing this far into Ilex Forest, though? Are you heading to Goldenrod City?”
You shrug. “Well, I was, but there’s this guy who lost a farfetch’d somewhere in here. I was trying to get it back, but I got lost.”
She sighs. “Oh, you poor dear! Don’t you worry. The farfetch’d surely got back to its master by now. They usually do. But you must have gotten exhausted, chasing after that bird. Why don’t you spend the night here to rest? Tomorrow, I can give you directions back to Azalea Town or to Goldenrod, whichever you’d like.”
Although her offer is generous, something about it doesn’t sit right with you. You can’t quite explain what it is, but something sends a shiver down your spine. Smiling, you stand.
“That sounds really nice, ma’am, but I really should be going. If you could just tell me which way is Goldenrod, I’ll be on my way.”
The old woman’s expression blanks, and she reaches out to grab your wrist. Right then, you shiver again, but this time, it’s because you notice that her hand is stone-cold.
Right then, the chieftain’s daughter gasped. The stranger in the net stood tall, and her body was adorned with bright, green silks and delicate flowers. Her eyes were blue and deep, like they had seen more than the chieftain’s daughter could ever hope to see. All around her, long, green hair floated, as if it hung in a breeze of its own.
The woman reached out, stretching an arm with skin as pale as the snow towards the daughter.
“Princess,” she said, “why in the world did you throw a net over me?”
“Are you the Voice of the Forest?” the chieftain’s daughter asked.
The woman smiled sweetly. “Some people call me that, I suppose. And I know you are the daughter of this village’s leader. I have been watching you for some time, but I cannot understand why you would want to capture me in a net.”
“You say you had been watching me, so how could you not know?” the daughter asked. “It’s all very simple. I want to show everyone in this village that you’re no god.”
“But why?” the god asked.
“Because I know what you really are,” the daughter said. “The stories about gods are silly little things, but I figured it out all on my own. You are no god. You are a thief, are you not? You steal from this village every year because you made everyone think you can cast a spell to make our crops grow. Is that not the truth?”
The Voice of the Forest listened patiently, and when the chieftain’s daughter finished, she smiled just as sweetly as she had before the girl began. Then, she grabbed hold of the net and ripped it in two.
“It is true that I am not what you would consider a god,” she said, “but I am something else. My brothers and sisters would eat your eyes and burn you alive if you said to them what you just said to me.”
The chieftain’s daughter laughed. “I am not afraid of you.”
“I hardly expect you to be,” the woman in green replied. “I will tell you this. I am also not my brothers and sisters. I will let you live, but I will show you what I am. You scoff at this village and its beliefs, so I will bless you by taking it away. Watch.”
Ninth, remember always that Celebi is with you.
“H-hey!” you exclaim. “Let me go!”
The old woman’s grip on your wrist tightens. “I’m sorry, child. She made me do this.”
Your joints feel stiff. At first, you think it’s just fear, but looking down, you realize it’s not. Your skin has turned rough and brown, and small twigs are starting to grow from your arms.
You want to scream, but you can’t. Your mouth is open, but no sound comes from it.
The old woman guides you outside. You can feel the cold wind all around you, but it passes right through your clothes and your skin and directly into your bones. Your insides feel hot, like they’re trying to boil up against your skin. Groaning, you writhe and try to break away from the old woman, but she simply guides you to a spot near the house.
Your feet break out of your sneakers. Your toes thrust into the ground. The moist earth swallows your feet, and the shadows of the forest pull at your arms and head.
Eventually, you can’t think straight as your body stretches and thickens. Your legs fuse together into a single trunk, and wood springs up from your throat and fills your mouth. Yet none of this feels painful to you. Uncomfortable yes, but somehow, as your mind begins to fog over, you feel as if this is simply … natural.
Looking down at the old woman one last time, you notice another creature standing beside her. At first, you think it’s a lady dressed in green, but at second glance, you see a small, pixie-like pokémon with large, blue eyes locked on yours.
“Another offering,” the old woman says wearily. “Are you satisfied now?”
The creature nods, and this is the last thing you see.
Panicked by the green woman’s threat, the chieftain’s daughter ran into the village, but she found no help. All around her, she watched her people turn into trees, one by one. She watched as her father’s arms grew into branches, as his face disappeared into bark, as his legs thrust into the ground where he stood. She watched her suitor drop his quiver and grow leaves from his head. She watched as the children froze where they were, their eyes wide and terrified as they, too, became trees.
After a while, the chieftain’s daughter screamed and ran into one of the houses. The lady in green followed her, breaking down the red door without even touching it. There, as the chieftain’s daughter sat on the floor and cried, the lady in green knelt next to her and touched her on the head.
“There, there,” she said. “You will not be alone. The people of this village will always watch over you. And, if that is not enough, I will be with you. I have even given you a gift. You will not know how to use it until much later, of course, but I will have time to teach you some other day.”
She stood. The chieftain’s daughter still said nothing. Instead, she could only glare at the woman in green.
“Someday,” the Voice of the Forest said, “you will come to love the people of the village as they are, and you will come to love me. Until that day, use the gift I have given you to bring me your offerings. Someday, they might just be enough to earn my forgiveness.”
The woman flashed one more smile, and for the first time, the chieftain’s daughter felt afraid.
The Voice of the Forest left her like that, and the years marched on afterwards. The homes and lodges of Ilex Village crumbled over time—all of them, that is, except the house the chieftain’s daughter had chosen. It grew with her, shifting from a lonely shack to a lonelier cottage, and she, too, grew older with each passing spring. Always old, but never dead. Her hair turned from sunlight golden to a pale silver, her eyes lost the beautiful sapphire blue that once attracted the sorry hunter, and her moon-colored skin grew as cold as her heart, but she would never die.
Instead, she built a stone shrine to her mistress, and there, she used the magic that the Voice of the Forest had given her—the same magic that she had witnessed herself—to offer countless lost children to the green woman.
I’m so sorry.
In the heart of Ilex Forest, where the trees are so thick they block out the sun, a sapling stands, surrounded by hundreds of tall, old trees. At its base are six poké balls that gather dirt and dust. You know they contain pokémon. High-leveled ones, to be exact. They once defeated Bugsy. But you can’t reach them.
You can hear them now—the trees, that is. All around you, they’re weeping and moaning. They can’t sleep. They can’t rest. They can’t scream. All they can do is stand around the cottage of their chieftain’s daughter, watching as the old witch turns another helpless child into a gift for the Voice of the Forest. Eventually, you find yourself joining them, yearning to warn each new trainer that comes by.
But you can’t.
You can’t move.
You can’t scream.
You can’t sleep.
You can only watch.
They say that if one traveled the wrong way through the trees of Ilex, they might hear the Voice of the Forest, reminding each and every passerby to remember her and her brothers and sisters.
For if there’s one thing the old gods do not like, it’s to be forgotten.
