Finding Red

Part 1

The light of day streamed in, highlighting the hard lines of stress on his face. The trainer looked at the old, tarnished silver camera from an era long past. It was a relic of a darker time with darker fates, and it reminded him of what he faced in only a few minutes. He took a deep breath in and gazed at the person in front of him.

"Are you sure this is what has to be done?" asked the photographer, knowing the consequences of what was to happen.

The battle legend nodded. "This was long past overdue."

The photographer shook his head in a disagreement that was already long disputed. "Do you have the words of the contracts? Both of them?"

"I do," said the legend, as he handed two frail sheets of translucent paper off.

The photographer smiled a mournful smile. "I'm amazed at how you could have found all this."

"If I could find Mew, I could find a camera," said the legend, it was a joke, one that he knew was of poor taste.

The other figure looked down. "I suppose you're right. But it still never ceases to amaze."

The battle legend said nothing more as he pulled a small, red, and square device out of his pocket. It was covered in scratches, and part of its exterior was worn from where it had been held too many times. It still worked though, as old as it was. It was hard for the legend to hand it over, despite the fact that he knew he had to. It would be important proof for another time.

"You want me to hand that to the professor?" The photographer asked.

The legend smiled and then lowered his head. "No, I don't. Leave it as a message to my keeper."

"So be it," said the photographer. "I might as well leave the camera as well."

The battle legend nodded. "It's time."

The photographer took the first sheet of paper and began to read a text written in the language of the Unknown. The words came out shook and scrambled, understanding with a deep heaviness what this meant for both people taking part in this event.

When the incantation was finished, the photographer looked at the battle legend. The man stood there, eyes closed with a dizzy look from his open mouth, disoriented from his erased. It was a difficult sight to see and the photographer wanted to go back on the promise that they made. But this was the duty that had to be done, it was something that was owed.

"Red," said the photographer, voice breaking, "I'm sorry."

The battle legend opened his eyes, with a look full of surprise as the photographer let the flash of the camera go. And the photographer watched as the life left the man's eyes, leaving only a silent, blank stare. The photographer felt bad, but knew it was time to take the trainer to where he'd wanted to be taken.

All there was to do was formally write the contract.