Letters That Will Never Be Read

Dear Gloria

Hey, it's your big bro, Roark! Or maybe I should write 'hello' because letters are supposed to be formal and all that junk, but it's not like there's an address for me to send this to, anyway.

Heh, and there it goes again; that tightened feeling in my ole furry chest. Been a while since I truly stopped to sit down and just think about you again. Maybe it's been so fricking long that you already forgot about me, and moved on with your life.

That scared me a little.

And maybe you don't know, but I don't get scared that often. Monferno and some of the other guild cronies might say otherwise, but this fox is rock solid in the fear department. Hell, I've taken up the job of scaring others with my freaky illusion magic (still thanking Bisharp for that illusion training to this day).

Where was I? Oh, right, I wanted to talk about our days and stuff. Right now, the guild is all getting prepared for the next expedition to find the 'second location' that some old Legendaries in the past might've built in that dusty sandbox area called the Grit Region. Apparently all these places are linked up with finding out the 'truth' about the ley lines' (basically magical lines beneath the dirt, weird stuff) origin.

Confused? Heh, yeah this world's a weird place. Someday I'll have to sit down and tell you about these wacko places called 'Mystery Dungeons'. Trust me, the name fits well, 'cause entering these areas is like entering some alternate dimension, and Pokemon (the creatures that live here and I happen to be now) consider them a part of average life! I keep getting off-topic (thanks brain). So, how was your day? I mean, I know you can't write back or tell me anything, but it's the idea that you're maybe thinking about it, right?

Nah, that's stupid. Truth is, I don't even have a clue why I'm bothering to write this when I should be packing up for the expedition. Maybe I've just gone insane over the, like, twenty years (yeah, I've been counting) I've been on this weird planet, or I'm possibly a bit too tipsy from drinking the Sitrus Berry Wine next to me.

Tastes like trash, but I always end up drinking it. Weird how that works, huh?

Me and the woes of alcohol go way back to the day I woke up in this world, you know. Waking up on some random beach, having two names called 'Roark' and 'Gloria' echoing in my mind, getting yelled at by some bird (Unfezant initially thought I was some wasted drunk), then brought to a seedy looking bar in a city called Verdure. And that might've been the first time I've ever downed a beer, unless you knew me to be a wild child in the past, heh.

Let me tell you, when I told that old geezer that I couldn't remember anything, his eyes turned into dinner plates. Guess it's why he tried everything in his power to set me straight, get me up on my paws and live a good, healthy life. Told me everything there was to know about 'Pokemon' and this world, and even set me up with this gig for this struggling messenger company that he ran.

I would work for him delivering packages in the city in the day, and talk over drinks in his office at night. He had a lot of hope for me, thinking I could be a productive asset for the city or his company. But none of his hopes for me really happened, though.

That's because I never stopped thinking of you, Gloria. At that time, you were just a name in my mind, an echo or something I couldn't let go of. It was the only connection to the past, so I clung to it, maybe more than I should have.

I wanted to find you, is what I'm trying to say.

Unfezant wasn't a fan, but being the stubborn bastard that I am, I left his graces with only a little money and a bottle of whiskey at my side. Even if I had plans to scour the earth to find you, being an amnesiac also meant I wasn't the best with knowing where the hell anything is, which kept my furry behind in the city.

Hah, but that wasn't the only boneheaded move I made. When my funds started running low, I had to resort to stealing from other Pokemon around the marketplace. Maybe you would be shocked to know this, or maybe not, but it's not something I take pride in anymore. It was do or die in a sense, and I couldn't let go of that feeling.

All the money I stole was so I could find you, so I could have other trained eyes search each continent of this world looking for someone with your name. In hindsight, it was an impossible task, but was the only thing that kept me getting up from my apartment's dinky couch. It gave me purpose, I guess. To know that I might have a family or friend out there who's waiting for me to return. Even when they all came back with bad news, I still kept at it, drinking away my sorrows and loneliness when I wasn't being a thief.

I was desperate for any hope, only to find it all drying up. It's fuzzy to me, and thinking of the details of that day makes me want to vomit, sometimes keeping me awake at night.

Standing atop that apartment building, an empty bottle in my claws, and knowing the walls were closing in. Looking back at it now, I was so dumb to attempt something like that. But in the moment, it was almost a liberating feeling, you know? It's a fucking terrifying sense to me now, and something I hope I never feel again.

But there I fell, and I didn't scream or cry for help, just letting fate take me down. It wouldn't happen, of course, since my claws are still struggling to write this letter (seriously Zoroark claws suck at holding quills).

In the end, I was saved from my own stupidity by this group called the Rescue Society. A Bisharp from it took me in at my darkest hour and said they could forget my troubled history if I joined them. Lucky break, right? Well, it wasn't like my body could summersault out a window and escape like before, so it was the only option for me, and I don't regret it one bit.

Ten freaking years I served with those guys, and nearly every day of it was a possible dance with lady death. Stopping pirates from taking over merchant ships, going into dangerous Mystery Dungeons to save Pokemon, and even stopping active volcanoes. While you never left my mind, I felt like I was doing some actual good in my life.

And then, my last assignment in the Rescue Society - de-escalating an avalanche on Glacier Peak Mountain. Gives me the chills to this day thinking it was supposed to be a normal operation. That it didn't have to end so horribly like it did.

But the universe did decide to throw me a bone, and by that I mean a little girl that was separated from her home village. I did my best, protecting her, helping others, sharing stories, scaling the mountain to reunite with her parents. Of course, there were no parents of hers to return to by the time we arrived, and no village of hers to live in anymore - she had lost everything dear to her, and I had lost countless comrades I knew for years in the devastation.

This was no accident, nor was it natural. And once I found the culprit behind it all, I never wanted to kill a Pokémon more than him - a Zoroark like me. My claws were so close to his throat, but I couldn't bring myself to end this pitiful bastard. Call it a mix of upholding my duties, or a moment of self reflection.

But it was a flash of memory I had atop that mountain that stopped me. A small glimpse into this memory of me, well, dying, I guess.

And guess what, I wasn't even a Pokémon to begin with! At least, that's my interpretation of the strange bipedal creatures in black clothing I saw, and I was the man they would leave behind in the carnage, all alone. From the words of my own dying body, I got to know who you truly are to me. You're my little sister, Gloria. Heh, well, maybe you're not so little anymore, but you'd still always be my little sister, you know.

Twenty years apart. I wonder how old you are, and what kind of job or dream you strove to achieve. Do you still even remember me? Who do you remember me as? I guess I was a criminal as well in the past, so maybe you don't think too fondly of me. In that case, sorry for being a bad brother.

I'm rambling (this entire letter is just that, huh?), but seeing the Zoroark trying to, well, end it like I once tried, I had to stop him and convince him to turn himself in. After that, I left the Rescue Society altogether. I don't know what happened to him in the end, or what happened to the remaining members of the Rescue Society. I let it all go to find someone who was damaged irreparably by this Zoroark's actions. Just as you must've been damaged by my own foolish actions, I needed to fix this guy's foolish actions.

Hah, it's getting harder to write this when the paper is getting wet, but I'll keep trying, because there's someone I want to introduce to you.

Her name is Gloria, and I swear this isn't a prank I'd usually play. She's a Vulpix (think of the cutest, but also nerdiest ice fox you know), and she's my adopted sister. Remember that little girl I met atop the Glacier Peak Mountain? I got to know her as we traveled; got to know her likes and dislikes, how smart she was, her goals of becoming a worldwide hero and all that hopeful junk.

As a Rescue Society member, usually we part ways with the Pokemon we rescue, but there was something about this Vulpix that drew me to revisit her. All of her dreams in life were crushed by this avalanche, and I couldn't let her life be controlled by that. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't fix things like I was supposed to. To take her away from the orphanage she ended up in, and to call her my little sister, and to suggest the name of Gloria to her, is my way of fixing things with you. You may not ever know of this, or know that I am still alive somewhere, but this is my way of saying that I never forgot about you.

Truthfully, the only reason I haven't drank myself to death by now is because I am there for her, and vice versa. She has a purpose, one that needs to be seen by the world, and my purpose is to be there for her, to give that little push into starlight she desires. And well, no mean to brag or anything, but she is going through the guild with flying colors, helping all the Pokemon across Celestic as best she can in her little adventure exploits.

But here's the kicker, I found another Pokemon just like me! Cool plot twist, eh? Well, he's now this little canine fellow called a Riolu (he totally missed out on being a cool illusion fox like me). He doesn't remember anything, and he appears to be the same age as I was when I came to this world. Just like with Vulpix, it was my duty to fix things, and I wouldn't let this kid wander this earth feeling so alone and forgotten, never finding out his past or who he was. Sometimes I feel like shit for not telling him the truth about myself, but I know I'll tell him it when I see that he's become a truly whole 'mon.

Kid is doing great, going with my suggestion to team up with Gloria and being so adamant about adventuring across Celestic. He's even learned how to play a banjo, just like those country bumpkin 'mons out in the fields. Heck, he's even been buddy-buddy with our hard-ass Guildmaster (don't ask me how that's possible, 'cause that guy glares at me any opportunity he gets).

And then there's me, the old fox with a drinking problem. After seeing these two succeed in ways I couldn't even imagine, it does worry me a bit that this is it for me. Not that I'll keel over any second now, but that I've already fulfilled my duty on this rock. It's only now that I understand why Unfezant disagreed with my ideas of finding you so much; he lived a life worth living, and he wanted me to have that same feeling.

But as anyone knows, I'm not the type to sit on a park bench and tell the passerby youths my life story. Nah, I still got the energy to party and the looks to woe over ladies, right? Feels wrong to even admit that I'm fumbling in the happy department when everyone around me is doing so well. Here I am, though, drinking down more alcohol than I usually do, talking to myself in this letter. If there was a reason that me and this kid were brought into this world, then I'd like to hear it, because I feel like I'm losing my purpose all over again.

Anyway, how was your day?

Your big brother,

Roark

Roark let go of the quill in his grasp, taking a deep breath as he looked over the many pages of work he'd been scribbling at for hours. He flipped through each individual page, analyzing each spur of the moment thought ripped from his mind and put onto this paper.

All of it was garbage - useless to anyone but him.

Wiping away his excess tears and straightening up the mess of papers, he held them up, inhaling again. A tearing nose filled his room as his crimson claws ripped part the pages of written text, quickly reducing the letter to nothing but shredded sheets.

And now even he could not read it anymore.

Letting the pieces fall onto the desk, he swiped the nearly empty bottle of Sitrus Berry Wine next to him and stood out of his seat. Downing the remaining foul vestiges of its contents with a wince, he made his way over to his room's doorway, never looking back at his torn up writing.

He had preparations to complete.

Author's Notes: Hello again! I have decided to release this experimental work I've been planning called 'Letters That Will Never Be Read'

LTWNBR are in-universe letters written by characters from their POV's that will occasionally be released as the story progresses and characters evolve. Big or small in size, I hope these will provide a further insight into the minds of each major character it dives into. I would appreciate any comment about these, whether you like or dislike them, and if I should continue making these. As for the usual chapters, we will return with 'Uproar' hopefully very soon, so keep your Cosmic Scarves tightly wrapped around your necks!

And please remember to cast a vote for the polls below, as they're still ongoing! Goodbye for now!

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