Forest of Secrets; A Pokemon Fanfiction

Chapter 3, Part 3

Sparkle

I rest a moment, panting in the darkness. Lotus says naught either, who knows why. Whoever knows why, with him? He's a enigma even to Joy-joy I'd suspect. Once my strength has returns somewhat, and I feel well enough to handle whatever life decides to chuck in my face next, I walk over to my technical uncle. “I did it!” A little excitement can't be helped, as I feel a twinge of pride in my task.
“Yes. I figured you could,” he intones blandly, staring at the sky.
My excitement transmogrifies to concern. The tree hadn't done any horrible damage, had it? Then again, it's a tree after all, and would have certainly hurt me really badly if I had be pinned under it like that. “Can you walk, Lotus? Are your legs alright?”
For the first time, I realize that his face is rather drained of chlorophyll. Actually, all of him looks kind of drained. With as much strength as he can obviously muster, he rolls over a little and faces me. “I don't think I can even sit up, Sparkle, let alone walk. I've not felt this bad since Joy first matched me up against Cynthia's Milotic. That Ice Beam was killer...” I get the vague sense he's in a sort of reminiscence, looking back at a past I've never seen. Awkwardly, I wait a few minutes before verbally shaking him out of his reverie. “Come on, we need to get you back the mansion, Lotus. Before you get worse. You're already zoning out on me. Uh, you wouldn't happen to know the way back from here, would you?”
Slightly startled, he snaps back to the real world. “No, of course not. You know I don't really leave the house.”
“Ah. That's not good, because I don't know the way either.” Silently, I groan to myself.
The Roserade's eyes flutter lightly as he glances about. “Pick a direction. One of eight times, you'll be right.”
I wasn't certain about his calculations, but I suppose it couldn't be any worse than before. “Since you can't walk Lotus, may I pick you up? I can't just leave you here, especially since I promised not to, and we also really need to get home. Now.” He nods an assent.

Carefully, I slide my arms under his knees and back. I raise him up slowly to chest-level. He flinches somewhat, even with my caution. There's a strange expression on his face. I think it's pain, trying to stay hidden. “Would you rather me put you back down? You don't look so hot.”
“Pins and needles, is all. Burns like fire. Forget it, Sparkle, keep going.”
Sighing, I meticulously perambulate through the trees and away from the lake. Lotus's condition concerns me some, as well as the possibility of running into another possessed pokemon. Not even able to run, for fear of hurting Lotus further, I'd be at their mercy. The only hope left here would be finding the mansion before another possessed Pokemon finds me. It's doubtful anyone was sent in after me, since no one knew I left. Even Spark would be welcome, if she'd keep us safe. Certainly, she'd keep Lotus safe, I ponder whilst stepping around a bush.
Speaking of the devil, Lotus stirs restlessly in my arms. “Sparkle,” he asks, “You still haven't forgiven me.”
Surprised, I reply, “I'm not sure what I'm forgiving you for, Lotus.”
“You'd be upset if I told you. But, if you want, I'll tell you the secret anyways. Just please, absolve the guilt plaguing me...”
Considering it a moment, I decide I can't honestly forgive someone if I don't know what I'm forgiving them for. This sort of thing requires sincerity, I would think. “I gotta know first, Lotus. For all I know, you murdered someone and need atonement for it.” It doesn't sound quite as good coming out of my mouth.
Funnily enough, he finds it amusing. With a slight smile, he says, “No, but that sounds like something Spark would do.” More solemnly, “I guess I'll tell you if you need to know. But, please don't be upset. It can't be blamed if you are though.”
“Enough subterfuge, Lotus. Just spit it out now, you're killing me here. I really want to know.”
A silvered glint of starlight filters down through the thick branches overhead and flashes across him for a moment. He looks feeble, what with his limpness, tired demeanor, and the abnormal nervous cast to his face. Feeble is something none of the Five ever look. It's strength that sets them out from the rest of us. They just can't break.
With a guilt-ridden glace upwards at me, and a tenseness of jaw, he surprisingly finds the strength to give me a hug, whispering harshly;
“I know who your real father is, Sparkle.”