CH.2

Cleo, now Ryuji, walked slowly down the polished wooden corridor that led to the main hall, his mind a maelstrom of thoughts as he tried to piece together an explanation for the elders. The soft padding of his footsteps echoed in the quiet morning, each step bringing him closer to the inevitable confrontation.

The memories of this world, fragmented as they were, provided little comfort. He knew only bits and pieces of what had happened before he woke up in this unfamiliar body. The more he tried to force the memories into place, the more they resisted, leaving him with frustrating gaps. What he did know, however, was that Ryuji had been found at the edge of the estate's sacred lake, unconscious, and nearly drowned. It was a fact that would certainly be at the forefront of the elders' minds, and one he would have to address.

Drowned, he thought, his mind racing as he tried to concoct a plausible explanation. Why would Ryuji have been at the lake? Was it an accident? Or something else?

The lake was known to be a place of reflection, where clan members often went to meditate or seek guidance from their ancestors. Perhaps that could be his excuse—Ryuji had gone there to clear his mind, to prepare himself for the upcoming bonding ceremony. Maybe he had been overwhelmed by the pressure, the expectations, and had sought solace by the water's edge. It wasn't far from the truth; even from the fragments he had, he could feel the weight that Ryuji had carried, the immense pressure to live up to the clan's legacy.

But that wasn't all. The fact that Ryuji had been found nearly drowned suggested something more, something darker. Had it been an accident, or had someone—or something—pushed him? Ryuji had no answers, and that uncertainty gnawed at him. He would have to tread carefully, offer an explanation that would satisfy the elders without revealing just how little he actually knew.

As he approached the main hall, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps behind him. Ryuji turned to see a young servant, the same one who had summoned him earlier, struggling to carry a large, bronze Grimoire. The book looked heavy, its ornate cover gleaming in the dim light, runes etched deeply into its surface. It was the Grimoire he had seen beside his bed, the one meant for Ryuji—the one meant for him now.

The servant bowed slightly as she caught up to him, her face flushed with exertion. "Young Master, I thought it best to bring the Grimoire with you. The elders… they may wish to see it."

Ryuji nodded, trying to hide his surprise. The Grimoire was a significant part of the upcoming ceremony, a symbol of the bond he was expected to form. Bringing it with him made sense, though it only added to the pressure he already felt.

"Thank you," Ryuji said, his voice soft. He paused, then added, "I'll carry it from here."

The servant looked up, wide-eyed, as if shocked by the offer. "But, Young Master, it is my duty—"

"It's fine," Ryuji interrupted gently. "I appreciate your help, but I can manage." He reached out and took the Grimoire from her hands, surprised by its weight. The book was heavier than it looked, and he could feel a strange warmth emanating from it, as if it were alive with latent power.

The servant hesitated, then bowed deeply. "As you wish, Young Master." She stepped back, leaving him alone once more.

Ryuji held the Grimoire in his hands, feeling the texture of the ancient bronze beneath his fingers, the weight of its significance pressing down on him. He took a deep breath and resumed his walk toward the main hall, the Grimoire now a tangible reminder of the role he had to play.

As he approached the entrance to the hall, Ryuji straightened his posture, squaring his shoulders. The large, wooden doors loomed before him, intricately carved with the symbols of the Hiryū Clan—the dragon and the wind, locked in eternal dance. He pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

The main hall was vast, its ceiling high and vaulted, supported by thick wooden beams. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. The elders were already assembled, seated in a semicircle around a central dais. Their eyes immediately fixed on him as he entered, the weight of their scrutiny almost palpable.

Ryuji walked slowly, deliberately, across the hall, the Grimoire clutched tightly in his hands. His mind raced with the words he had rehearsed, the explanation he had crafted. He could feel the eyes of the elders boring into him, assessing, judging, and perhaps searching for any sign of weakness.

Elder Hiroshi, seated at the center of the semicircle, watched Ryuji closely, his expression unreadable. As Ryuji approached the dais, he bowed respectfully, holding the Grimoire in front of him with a calm yet purposeful demeanor.

"Grandson," Elder Hiroshi began, his voice low and steady, "you have returned to us from the brink, but there are many questions that remain. Tell us—what happened at the lake?"

Ryuji straightened, meeting the elder's gaze. This was the moment. He needed to convince them, to make them believe he was still Ryuji, and that the incident at the lake was nothing more than an unfortunate accident.

"I… needed a moment of solitude," Ryuji began, his voice steady despite the nervous thudding of his heart. "The pressure of the upcoming ceremony, the expectations placed upon me… it all felt overwhelming. I went to the lake to clear my mind, to find peace in the same way our ancestors have done. But… something went wrong. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but I must have lost my balance and fallen into the water. The next thing I remember is waking up in my bed."

The elders exchanged glances, their expressions carefully neutral. Ryuji held his breath, waiting for their response. He had given them a plausible explanation, one that fit within the traditions of the clan, but the air was thick with uncertainty.

Elder Hiroshi nodded slowly, as if weighing Ryuji's words. "The lake is indeed a place for reflection and communion with the spirits of our ancestors. It is not uncommon for those who seek guidance there to become lost in their thoughts. It seems… you were fortunate that you were found when you were."

Ryuji exhaled softly, relief washing over him. They had accepted his explanation, at least for now.

"The Grimoire," Elder Hiroshi continued, his gaze shifting to the book in Ryuji's hands. "You have yet to bond with it, to fulfill the ceremony that will define your path. Are you ready, Ryuji? Do you feel the connection?"

Ryuji hesitated, feeling the weight of the Grimoire once more. He had no idea how to answer that. The connection they spoke of, the bond that was supposed to form between him and the book, was something he had never experienced. Yet he knew he had no choice but to proceed, to take the next step in this life that was now his.

"I am ready," Ryuji said, his voice steady, even as doubt gnawed at him from within. "I will do what is required."

The elders nodded, seemingly satisfied with his response. "Very well," Elder Hiroshi said. "The ceremony will take place tomorrow at dawn. Until then, rest and prepare yourself. The bond you will form with the Grimoire is sacred and powerful. You must be at peace, both in mind and spirit."

This was the day that had been foretold—the day Ryuji would turn fifteen, the day he would finally make the contract with the Grimoire. It was a rite of passage that every member of the Hiryū Clan anticipated with both pride and trepidation. This ceremony would determine his future, his strength, and his place within the clan. The Grimoire, ancient and full of untapped potential, waited patiently for the bond that would awaken its true power.

Ryuji bowed again, acknowledging the elder's words. He could feel their eyes on him as he turned to leave, the weight of their expectations pressing down on him even more heavily than before. He had managed to navigate this first challenge, but the real test was yet to come.

As Ryuji left the main hall, the weight of the Grimoire still heavy in his hands, his mind raced with questions. The fragmented memories of his former life as Cleo clashed with the reality he now faced, and he knew that to survive in this world, he needed to understand it better. The upcoming ceremony was critical, but he also needed to make sense of the Pokémon in this world—how they compared to the creatures he knew from his life on Earth.

As he walked down the corridor, his thoughts turned to the vast wealth of knowledge that surely lay within the Hiryū Clan's library. He needed to get there, but he couldn't afford to draw too much attention to his curiosity. He had to approach this carefully.

As he turned a corner, he noticed the young servant who had helped him earlier, still lingering near the entrance to the hall. She seemed startled as he approached, her eyes wide with a mixture of respect and nervousness.

Ryuji slowed his pace slightly as he passed her. "The library… It's been some time since I've visited. I should reacquaint myself," he said casually, as if making an offhand remark. "Could you remind me of the way?"

The servant blinked in surprise but quickly nodded, bowing slightly. "Of course, Young Master. Please, follow me."

She led the way down a series of winding corridors, her footsteps almost silent on the polished wooden floors. Ryuji followed, taking in the intricate carvings and decorations that lined the walls. Each depicted scenes of powerful dragons and majestic Flying-type Pokémon, symbols of the Hiryū Clan's legacy. The artwork was exquisite, but Ryuji's mind was focused on the task at hand.

They eventually reached a set of large, double doors made of dark wood, reinforced with iron bands. The servant paused, turning to face him.

"This is the library, Young Master," she said softly, before hesitating slightly. "If you're looking for something specific, I can ask the librarian to assist you."

Ryuji nodded, appreciating the subtle offer. "Yes, please do."

The servant quickly excused herself and slipped through a side door, leaving Ryuji alone in the grand entrance of the library. He looked around, taking in the sheer scale of the place—the towering shelves filled with countless volumes, the long tables set for study, and the deep, quiet atmosphere that seemed to hold centuries of accumulated wisdom.

Moments later, the servant returned, accompanied by an older woman with a serene expression and sharp, intelligent eyes. She was clearly the librarian, her presence exuding a calm authority. She bowed respectfully to Ryuji.

"Young Master, I am the keeper of this library," she said in a soft, measured tone. "How may I assist you today?"

Ryuji considered his words carefully. "I would like to review some of our clan's knowledge on Pokémon," he said, his tone even and deliberate. "Particularly anything related to Dragon and Flying-types, as well as the bonds formed through the Grimoire."

The librarian nodded thoughtfully. "Of course, Young Master. We have many texts that cover these topics. I will guide you to the appropriate sections."

She led him deeper into the library, past rows of ancient scrolls and leather-bound tomes, until they reached a secluded area filled with older, more ornate books. The librarian carefully selected a few volumes, each one bound in leather and marked with the symbols of dragons and birds of prey.

"These tomes contain the lore of the Pokémon of Pangea, including their origins and the nature of the bonds they form with us," she explained as she handed the first book to Ryuji. "You may find them useful in preparing for the ceremony."

Ryuji accepted the book, noting the weight of it in his hands. He found a nearby reading table, placing the Grimoire carefully beside him before opening the tome. The librarian, after making sure he was settled, gave a slight bow and moved away, giving him privacy to study.

As Ryuji began to read, he carefully compared the information to what he remembered from his life as Cleo. The creatures described in the book were undeniably similar to the Pokémon he had known, but there were differences—some subtle, others significant. The lore in this world spoke of ancient spirits, of elemental forces that shaped the very nature of these beings. The bonds described were far deeper than the trainer-Pokémon relationships he was familiar with, almost spiritual in nature, tied to the very essence of the Grimoire.

He continued to read, taking notes mentally as he compared the Pangean Pokémon lore with the knowledge he retained from Earth. Occasionally, he asked the librarian for specific scrolls or texts, and she provided them with quiet efficiency, her knowledge of the library's contents impressive but not all-knowing.

Finally, after what felt like hours of study, Ryuji closed the last tome, his mind swimming with new information. He had gained a deeper understanding of the world he was now a part of, but he also knew that the true test lay ahead. The ceremony, the bond with the Grimoire, and the expectations of the Hiryū Clan all weighed heavily on him.

The servant, who had remained nearby, approached him cautiously. "Is there anything else you need, Young Master?"

Ryuji shook his head, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "No, you've both been very helpful. Thank you."

She bowed again, relieved that she had been of service. "If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask."

As the servant and the librarian left, Ryuji remained seated in the library, the bronze Grimoire still beside him. He placed a hand on its cover, feeling the warmth and the potential it held. Tomorrow, he would face the ceremony that would determine his fate in this world, and he needed to be ready.

Ryuji sat in the quiet of the library, the dim light casting long shadows across the room as he pondered the vast amount of information he had just absorbed. The librarian and the servant had left him alone, leaving him with nothing but the ancient texts and his thoughts. The Grimoire rested beside him, a silent sentinel of the task that awaited him at dawn, but for now, his focus was on the books and the knowledge they contained.

Ryuji had always been an avid fan of Pokémon in his previous life as Cleo. He knew the lore inside and out—the various regions, the different types, the strategies, and the stories behind each Pokémon. His love for the franchise had been more than just a passing interest; it had been a passion, something that brought him comfort and joy. Now, in this strange new world, that knowledge was a lifeline, something familiar in the midst of the unknown.

But as he reviewed the information in the tomes before him, he began to notice discrepancies, things that didn't quite add up. The Pokémon described in these texts were undeniably familiar—Flygon, Salamance, Dragonite, and countless others that he knew well. Yet, the more he read, the more he realized that something was missing.

Ryuji furrowed his brow, flipping through the pages with increasing urgency. The Pangean versions of these Pokémon were similar, sometimes even identical, to the ones he knew from his life on Earth, but as he searched for information on certain species, he began to realize that many were absent.

Where are the Kalos Pokémon? he thought, scanning the index of a particularly comprehensive tome. There was no mention of Greninja, no sign of Aegislash, and no references to the Legendary Xerneas or Yveltal. He moved to another book, checking for any sign of the Alolan variants he remembered—nothing. His heart sank a little as he realized that there were no references to the Galar region, either—no mention of Zacian, Eternatus, or any of the unique creatures from that generation.. 

It was as if the world had been frozen in time, as if the Pokémon of Pangea were limited to those known in the first five generations. Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh or rather Hisui, and Unova were all well-represented, but beyond that… there was nothing.

Why is this happening? Ryuji wondered, his mind racing. Was this world somehow different, cut off from the expansions he had known? Or was it simply that these Pokémon didn't exist here at all? The thought was unsettling, a reminder that while this world bore many similarities to the one he had known, it was still fundamentally different.

He sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of it all. The absence of these Pokémon didn't just leave gaps in the roster—it suggested something deeper, something fundamental about the nature of this world. The regions that had been so vividly brought to life in the games and the anime simply didn't exist here. It was a reminder that this wasn't a world crafted by developers and storytellers; this was a real place, with its own history, rules, and limitations.

Ryuji's thoughts wandered back to the Grimoire. It was the key to his future here, the means by which he would bond with a Pokémon and take his place in the Hiryū Clan. But what kind of bond would it be? The texts he had read spoke of connections far deeper and more profound than anything he had ever seen in the games. These bonds weren't about battling for badges or winning tournaments—they were about survival, about forging a partnership that was as much spiritual as it was physical.

He leaned forward, staring at the Grimoire as if it might reveal its secrets to him. What kind of Pokémon will I bond with? he wondered. Would it be one of the familiar creatures from the first five generations, or something else entirely? And what did it mean that so many Pokémon he had loved and studied were missing from this world?

The silence of the library pressed in around him, the weight of his realization settling in. This wasn't just a different version of the Pokémon world he had known; it was a place where entire species were absent, where the lore he had studied for years was incomplete. It was as if he had been given only part of the puzzle, and the rest remained hidden, waiting for him to discover—or create—something new.

Ryuji sighed, closing the book in front of him. He was no longer Cleo, the avid Pokémon fan who could recite type matchups from memory. He was Ryuji, a young man about to undergo a sacred ceremony that would define his future. The knowledge he had brought with him from his past life was valuable, but it wasn't enough. He would have to learn, adapt, and grow in ways he had never imagined.

As he stood to leave the library, the Grimoire in his hands once more, Ryuji knew that the path ahead was uncertain. He was entering a world that was both familiar and alien, a world where his knowledge could guide him but also mislead him. Tomorrow, he would face the ceremony, and whatever Pokémon awaited him, he would have to be ready to form a bond that went beyond anything he had ever experienced before.

With one last glance around the library, Ryuji walked out into the corridor, his thoughts heavy with the weight of the unknown. The future was a blank canvas, and he was holding the brush. He wasn't Cleo anymore. He was Ryuji of the Hiryū Clan, and he had a destiny to fulfill. But first, he had to survive what lay ahead.

The night passed in restless contemplation, Ryuji's mind never fully allowing him to slip into the deep sleep he craved. Every time he closed his eyes, he was met with images—fragmented memories of Cleo's life, mingled with the echoes of Ryuji's past. The faces of Pokémon he once knew were distorted, flickering in and out like dying embers, while the unfamiliar weight of the Grimoire seemed to pulse beside him, as if it too was alive, awaiting the dawn.

Finally, as the first light of morning began to seep through the shutters, Ryuji rose from his bed. Today was the day. The day he would make the contract that would bind him to this world, to this life as Ryuji of the Hiryū Clan. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, a mixture of fear and anticipation that he couldn't quite shake.

He dressed carefully in the traditional robes laid out for him, the deep blue fabric embroidered with silver dragons and swirling winds, symbols of the Hiryū Clan's mastery over the skies. Each movement was deliberate, almost ritualistic, as he prepared himself for the ceremony. The robes were heavy, but they carried a certain comfort, a reminder that this was more than just a ceremony—it was a rite of passage, one that had been repeated countless times by his ancestors.

The Grimoire lay on the low table beside him, its bronze cover gleaming faintly in the dim light. Ryuji picked it up, feeling the now-familiar warmth emanating from it. The book felt almost eager, as if it knew what was to come and was just as ready as he was. Or perhaps more so.

He stepped out into the corridor, where the same servant from the day before was waiting, her expression carefully neutral, though her eyes betrayed a hint of anxiety. She bowed deeply as he approached.

"The elders are ready, Young Master," she said softly. "They await you in the ceremonial hall."

Ryuji nodded, his expression calm, though inside, his heart was pounding. "Thank you," he replied, his voice steady. "Lead the way."

The servant turned and began walking down the corridor, her pace measured and precise. Ryuji followed, each step bringing him closer to the hall where his fate would be decided. The corridors were quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of their robes as they moved through the ancient estate.

As they neared the ceremonial hall, the air grew thicker, charged with the weight of tradition and expectation. The hall itself was a sacred place, used only for the most important rituals of the Hiryū Clan. The walls were adorned with ancient tapestries, depicting dragons and storms, battles fought in the sky, and the powerful bonds between humans and their Pokémon. It was a place where the past met the present, where the weight of history bore down on those who entered.

The large wooden doors to the hall were already open, revealing the elders seated in a semicircle around a raised dais. In the center of the dais, a stone pedestal awaited him, its surface engraved with the same symbols that adorned the Grimoire in his hands.

Ryuji hesitated for only a moment, then walked forward, his steps echoing softly in the vast, silent space. The elders watched him closely, their expressions unreadable, though he could feel the intensity of their scrutiny. Elder Hiroshi, seated at the center, nodded slightly as Ryuji approached the dais, his eyes sharp and calculating.

"Ryuji," Elder Hiroshi began, his voice resonating through the hall, "today you stand before us to take the next step in your journey. The bond you will form with the Grimoire is sacred, a connection that will define your path and your place within the Hiryū Clan. Are you prepared to fulfill your destiny?"

Ryuji met the elder's gaze, his heart pounding in his chest. "I am," he replied, his voice firm, though a part of him still wrestled with the uncertainty of what was to come.

"Then approach the pedestal and present the Grimoire," Hiroshi commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Ryuji stepped onto the dais, feeling the eyes of the elders on him, and carefully placed the bronze Grimoire on the pedestal. The room seemed to hold its breath as he did so, the air thick with anticipation.

Elder Hiroshi stood, raising his hands as he began to chant in a low, rhythmic tone, the ancient words of the ritual filling the hall. The other elders joined in, their voices weaving together in a harmonious yet haunting melody that resonated deep within Ryuji's chest.

As the chant reached its crescendo, the symbols on the Grimoire began to glow, the light growing brighter and more intense with each passing moment. The warmth that Ryuji had felt before now radiated from the book, enveloping him in a cocoon of energy. He could feel something stirring within him, a connection beginning to form, something deep and powerful that reached out from the Grimoire and into the very core of his being.

"Place your hand upon the Grimoire," Elder Hiroshi instructed, his voice rising above the rhythmic chant that filled the hall. "Seal your bond, and let the Pokémon that answers your call be revealed."

The elders' voices wove together in a low, resonant chant, the ancient words echoing through the chamber:

"By the flame of spirit, by the breath of fate,

We call upon the bond that destiny creates.

In shadow and light, in balance we stand,

Reveal the Guardian, by our summoner's hand."

Ryuji hesitated for only a fraction of a second, then reached out, placing his hand on the cover of the Grimoire. The moment his skin touched the warm, glowing surface, the world seemed to shift, the very air vibrating with power. The symbols on the Grimoire flared with light, and Ryuji felt a surge of energy rush through him, filling him with a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

The chant grew louder, the words resonating with the energy of the ritual:

"Bound by the pact of ancient and new,

The soul of the Guardian, let it come through.

By this bond, let power take form,

To serve and protect, in the eye of the storm."

As the final words of the chant echoed, the light from the Grimoire intensified, surrounding Ryuji in a brilliant aura. The energy pulsed, alive and electric, as the bond between him and the Grimoire solidified, awaiting the Guardian that would emerge.

The Grimoire pulsed, once, twice, and then—suddenly—its cover snapped open, the pages flipping rapidly as if possessed by an unseen force. The light intensified, becoming almost blinding, and Ryuji could feel something emerging from within the book, something ancient and powerful, something that was now bound to him.

And then, as quickly as it began, the light faded, the Grimoire settling back onto the pedestal with a soft thud. The chanting ceased, leaving the hall in a profound silence, broken only by the sound of Ryuji's own breathing.

He looked down at the Grimoire, its pages now still, and then slowly lifted his gaze to see what had emerged, to see the Pokémon that had answered his call and sealed the bond that would define his future.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air, as Ryuji prepared to face whatever destiny had chosen for him.