Kingdom of Trumpets, Prelude

It was a passing Taillow that told Adagio of the stranger.

It happened upon a warm, spring dawn. The forest was waking from its evening rest, and sunshine was just beginning to peek through the canopy. Adagio, the Witch of the Wood, was observing some morning glories open their petals when the Taillow came to her. He told her that a stranger had entered the forest, one that was neither human nor Pokémon.

Alerted, Adagio knew at once what was coming, but not who. So she turned herself into a tree and waited for the stranger. A nearby Poochyena obediently lied down next to her trunk and waited with her.

He did not come until almost midday.

To the untrained eye, he appeared human. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, decorated with a Murkrow feather, sandals, a dark gray and blue tunic, and matching trousers and gloves. A pair of spectacles rested on his face. And at his side on a chain, hung a gray cube. He looked around, warily, fully aware of his act of intrusion.

As he approached, Adagio’s voice rang out from somewhere in the forest.

“You look uneasy, Mage of the Mountain. Perhaps you should not have strayed so far from your rock.”

The stranger looked around. He was unaware that the tree he was standing next to was Adagio, and the witch was using magic to throw her voice so that he could not find her.

“I am not at ease, because I have felt a shift in Nature’s balance. Surely, you have felt it, too.”

“Straightforward, as always. Yes, I have felt it.”

“Then enough of this foolishness. I have travelled all this way to speak with you. Though I would prefer it if I could see you as well.”

“You are right next to me, Presto,” said Adagio playfully. “Though you would not see me, for I am a tree.”

“I would rather not converse with a tree.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come into my forest.” There was a moment of silence. “Very well. Turn around.”

Presto did so, and he saw before him a woman in a plain, brown dress and green hood. A darker green scarf was wrapped around her neck, and she wore a bag over her shoulder which contained all her magical items. Dark tresses of hair hung by her face. She held the Poochyena in her arms.

Presto smiled. “I see you have chosen a new familiar.”

“And I see you have neglected to bring yours.”

“Fife is performing a task for me back home.”

The Poochyena snarled at Presto. “Shall I chase him away, Milady?”

“No, Viola. That won’t be necessary.” Adagio let Viola fall from her grasp. “The Mage of the Mountain is our guest.”

Adagio touched a tree, and at once two stumps came up from the ground. She sat on one and motioned for Presto to take the other. He hesitated.

“You’re not going to invite me into your home?”

“You smell of sea salt and sulfur. A stench that would take days to fade from my house.” Adagio lowered her hood, letting her dark hair tumble behind her. “No. We shall speak here.”

Presto frowned, but set himself down on the stump. It was in a sunny patch and allowed Adagio to see him more clearly.

“My, my,” she said. “Now that you’re not in the shadows, I can see you’ve become as pale as the clouds you emanate.”

Presto removed his hat, revealing his insipid, gray hair. “And you have grown dark as tree bark.”

Adagio smiled, letting his words hang in the forest air.

“This shift of balance we both felt,” she said at last. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the approaching Centennial, would it?”

“Yes. The time has come for a new king to take the throne.”

“Indeed. Have you heard word of what human King Steven has chosen for his successor? I understand he has no children to survive him.”

Presto furrowed his brow. “You know better than most that is not how the prophecy works.”

“Humans have ignored the prophecy for nearly six hundred years. They tried their hand at bending it five Centennials ago, and without sight of consequence, they bent it farther. It is all but broken now. Humans have forgotten what it’s like to be ruled by Pokémon. I daresay they couldn’t even begin to grasp the idea now.”

Upon hearing this, Presto shook his head. “A shame, it is. But there are those who feel that the time is come for the humans to pay for their greed. Namely Andante and Vivace.”

Adagio let out a small chuckle. “Those fools? Their cults have made them delusional and vain.”

“Their delusions are my concern, Adagio.” Presto leaned forward. “Andante is only scratching the surface as to what could be done, but Vivace is already on the move. Last year, I caught him and his cultists surveying my mountain. Then, a few months ago, I heard whispers of disturbances from the sea floor. Adagio… I fear that Vivace plans to awaken the Alpha.”

For a quick moment, Adagio widened her eyes. She stared at Presto, looking for some sign of jest. There wasn’t one. She and he both knew the fate that awaited Hoenn, should the Alpha be arisen.

“You’ve come to me for help,” she spoke softly. “What would you have me do?”

“There is hope.” Presto straightened himself. “I believe that if the rightful king sits upon the throne when the Centennial arrives, Vivace will cease his endeavors and return to protecting the sea.”

“And where do you plan on finding this ‘rightful king?’” Adagio sneered. “King Steven’s ancestor had all the Pokémon in the royal bloodlines slaughtered. Save for a handful that the humans have chosen to emulate, Pokémon nobles are all but extinct.”

“That’s not entirely true. My mentor Largo was alive during the massacre. He had a noble of each bloodline hidden away. Their descendants yet live.”

“What?” Adagio was genuinely surprised. Something that did not occur often. “Where?”

“A remote village, southeast of here. I’m sure you’re familiar with it.”

“Surely not Littleroot?”

“The very same.”

“And King Steven is unaware of their existence?”

“They are alive, aren’t they?”

“His Majesty is a more noble man than his predecessors.”

“Be that as it may, the throne is not his to give away. It belongs to one of those children in Littleroot.”

“But which is our rightful ruler?”

“Being as they are still young, it is difficult to say. But their age also gives us an advantage.”

“Us?”

Presto nodded. “I believe that one of them could be brought up to be a strong and just king. Who better to teach them about their future kingdom than those who have lived in it the longest? I have already discussed this with Allegro, and as we speak, he travels to Littleroot.”

“Allegro?” Adagio let out another chuckle. “Compared to you and me, he is but a babe himself. He still remembers his human life.”

“He was the only one of us left to ask. Andante is just as unpredictable and delusional as Vivace.”

“I’m flattered that you’ve come to me for aid.” Adagio leaned her head against her fist and grinned sheepishly. “Three magicians, three princes, but only one throne to claim. Dear Presto, this sounds like competition.”

“I had a feeling you would see it that way.”

“Your smile tells me you do not object.”

“Your answer, then?”

Adagio thought for a moment. It was never her wish to leave her forest for any lengthy period of time, but the prospect of beating Presto in any sort of contest pleased her. And what proper witch would not jump at the chance to advise a future king? The idea had merit.

“Very well, Presto. You’ve won me over. Give me three days, and then I may join you in the village of Littleroot. Do nothing until I arrive. Then you and I can decide on our champion.”


May it be known through times of old
That this decree, ye shall uphold

Aft a century has since passed
A ruler, new, shall hence be craft

When Beast rule Man, Man shall rule Beast
This shift of power shall not cease

For aft one party has ran their run
It shall be ruled by the former one

And whomever denies this command in slate
Shall plunge Hoenn in a tempest fate

The seas shall crash and the land shall quake
Should Alpha be disturbed and wake

Be witch, beware the trumpet’s blare
Lest ye be caught in a snatching snare

‘Cross Hoenn, the mighty sound shall rein
And play ‘till the pain of rain is slain

‘Tis this sound, this sound alone
That quells the sky and breaks the stone