Volo lore for those with eyes to read it 👀
CW/TW: Themes of religious trauma/abuse, religious psychosis!!
Sitting by Lake Verity’s lakefront, he stared into the reflection of the water, and for a moment, he saw a child staring back. It was him, 16 years old at the Temple of Sinnoh, just living out the moments that changed everything. He remembered everything.
“Volo..what are you thinking?” the village leader Dico asked. Volo remained quiet, subtly shaking his head as if to say, ‘I’m not telling you.’
At the peak of Mt. Coronet in the Temple of Sinnoh, the current leader of the last Celestica village stood amongst worship leaders. In the midst of the white robes and religious symbolism, was Volo, just one month after his 16th birthday. Dressed in white and gold with an unmistakable exhaustion on his face. The village believed something wrong within him. Something evil. Something demonic.
And so, Volo began the treatment. At least, that’s what they thought they were doing.
“Volo, you must answer me when I speak to you.” Dico said with great authority that seemingly never failed to agitate Volo. “I don’t think I want to.” Volo replied assertively, yet quietly. Dico reached over to the tall basin next to them. He cupped his hand with the cold water, and threw the water onto Volo’s forehead. Volo turned around quickly and tried to wipe the water off of his face with his shirt before the leader grabbed him and brought him back next to the basin. “Volo, this is unusual for you. You must know this, hm?” Dico asked. Volo rubbed his eyes and met the leader’s gaze, gritting his teeth underneath his tired expression. “I think I want to go home now.” Volo said quietly.
Dico patted Volo’s cheek. “You will be going home,” he replied, his tone almost coming off as kind, “But not until we figure out what’s going on within you.” Dico felt ashamed that one of his own village members was being influenced by a demonic pokemon, possibly even Giratina himself. In his eyes, it was the true mark of a leader that failed. He wanted nothing more than to correct this failure. To him, this was not cruetly.
Volo stared into the water in the basin, studying his own reflection. As the water rippled, his reflection distorted and twisted. That is when he recognized himself, more so than when the water was still. “What is inside of me?” Volo asked innocently.
Dico observed Volo’s behaviors for a moment before answering. Volo’s eyes were darting from the basin, to various parts of the room over and over. He continuously tugged at the fabric of his clothing, and he had the darkest circles painted the skin beneath his eyes. Dico snapped his fingers, “Look at me,” Dico remanded, to which Volo obeyed, “What do you think is in you, Volo?” Dico asked.
Volo broke his eye contact and looked behind Dico at the large art portrayal of Arceus’s rings carved into the marble wall. He then looked back into the basin of water, This time, his reflection was still.
“..Nobody.” He said quietly. “There’s nobody there. Not Arceus. Not even me.” Volo answered back softly with no real expression.
Dico shook his head ever so slightly, sighing to himself with what could’ve only conveyed disappointment.
“Volo…” he began, “What happened? What happened to you, and when did this…darkness take over?” He finished, standing right in front of Volo, looking off into Hisui’s sky, which looked like it had been painted that evening. Volo felt a tear forming in his eye, and wiped it away as quickly as he could. “I don’t feel…” he began.
Dico turned to him and stared daggers into his eyes.
Volo swallowed hard, and looked behind Dico into the scenery that lied beyond. “I don’t feel like…I’M something dark.” he finished.
Dico’s face grew angry. Or was it weary? Volo couldn’t tell, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t winning this debate. Dico plunged his hand into the water, to which Volo instinctively jumped at. He was fully expecting to get water splashed into his face anytime Dico got near the basin. Noticing his jumping, Dico was pleased with this reaction. Volo could be ‘tamed.’ At least, that’s what it meant to Dico. Gently removing his hand from the water, Dico circled the basin, snapped his fingers in front of Volo’s face. Volo knew this meant to follow him.
As they walked around the temple, Dico spoke. “You’ve done something bad, Volo.”
The words cut deep. Volo looked away from Dico, and into the second water basin that they approached. There he saw himself, but older.
Volo snapped back into where he was, staring into Lake Verity at his reflection.
Volo found himself doing this often, reliving his days at the Temple of Sinnoh with Dico, pondering the things he could’ve done or said differently. If there was anything. Could he have done anything, SAID anything, that would’ve prevented him from doing what he did just weeks before?
He didn’t know the answer. Maybe he really was taken by darkness. Maybe he does lack goodness in his soul, maybe there isn’t a soul in there to hold anything. No matter the answer, what’s done was done. All Volo had to do with his life now was to dwell on it forever.
Volo felt a tear forming in the same eye that had just relived childhood. The tear hit the water, rippling his reflection into an unrecognizable image staring back at him. As it cleared back up into his image, he felt a sadness so intense that he could’ve mistaken it for rage. Volo let the tears form in his eyes and let the lump in his throat grow, as he spoke to his reflection.
“You…” he began, becoming increasingly choked up, “You did something bad.” He said, his tears falling into the reflection again. Volo’s silent tears turned into a steady cry, closing his eyes now and placing his hands into the water as if he was trying to reach himself. “You did something bad, Volo..” he whimpered through his tears, “And you cannot fix this.” Volo’s soft cry led him to lie on his side, letting the gentle tide from the lake gently lap against him as he lay right on the shallow shore, allowing it to move without him.
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