The red, blue, and yellow lights converged like a beam of pure energy in the center of the Luminalia Stadium, the largest and most prestigious venue in the Kalos region. The roar of the crowd was a thunder that vibrated the ground and the metal structures. More than one hundred thousand people, mostly young but with glimpses of all ages, chanted a name in unison, a syllable that resonated with the force of the Normal-type attack "Roar":
"A-SHER! A-SHER! A-SHER!"
The heat of the moment was almost physical, an electrifying aura that enveloped the atmosphere.
And then, everything stopped. The lights pointing to the center suddenly went out, plunging the stadium into a dense, instant darkness. There was a collective gasp, a dramatic pause that only an artist of his caliber could afford.
A single spotlight of white light, bright as a sunbeam, suddenly turned on above a raised platform.
There he was.
Asher.
On the giant LED screens surrounding the stage and the stadium, his image was magnified, capturing every detail. He was a sixteen-year-old boy, with a fame that made him seem like a timeless figure. His black, somewhat messy and medium-length hair fell just above his shoulders. He was almost 178 centimeters tall, with a slender and graceful figure. He wore a scarlet velvet jacket embroidered with a pattern reminiscent of a Ho-Oh's feathers, over an immaculate black shirt and trousers. His eyes, an intense and deep violet color, shone under the intensity of the light, adding an air of enigma.
A silence spread through the crowd as he brought the microphone to his lips.
A soft, melancholic, and complex melody began to flow from the speakers, accompanied by an acoustic guitar. The song title was globally known: "Ghost Echo," a ballad about loss and reunion that had catapulted Asher to global stardom.
His voice rose, velvety and crystal clear, filling the immense space effortlessly. It wasn't a powerful voice in the traditional sense, but one that possessed a resonance and purity that touched the innermost fibers of anyone who listened to it.
"Shadows move where the light gave up, A world of dreams, where did my soul anchor? Hearts of stone, but you, a crystal, Gave me a past that wasn't real..."
The people were mesmerized. On the screens, Asher was seen closing his violet eyes in the instrumental climax, letting the music speak. Beside him, on a pedestal, his Pokémon companion, a Gardevoir with a red silk flower pinned to its chest, floated gracefully, its arms extended in a pose that seemed to absorb and amplify the emotion of the music.
When the last note faded, leaving only the guitar's reverb, the stadium exploded. The audience roared, shrieked, and applauded.
Asher allowed himself a smile, a genuine expression of gratitude that made the screens erupt in camera flashes.
"Luminalia!" he exclaimed, and his voice, though amplified, maintained that soft, melodic tone, contrasting with the frenzy of the environment. "Thank you! Thank you for the heart you put into this city and this night!"
He bowed slightly, touching his chest. "Now, I want to ask you something..." He paused dramatically.
"... Are you ready for this show to truly begin?"
The answer was a thunderous scream, louder than the previous one, a hurricane of youthful energy. "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"
Asher smiled from ear to ear. "Well, let's go for it!"
An aggressive synth-pop track burst into the speakers, mixed with the unmistakable roar of an Engine. The lights went wild, pulsing to the heavy beat. The ballad was over; now it was time for euphoria with his hit "Rapid Fire."
VIP Interlude: The Contract and the Kalos Chess Game
While the energy on stage reached its peak, in the VIP suite of the Pokémon League, the frenzy was perceived only as muffled background noise.
Two women watched the scene: Diantha, the unrivaled Kalos Champion, and Malva, the Fire-type Elite Four member. Malva had a lazy, playful smile as she watched the young singer on the screens.
"No doubt about it, Your Highness," Malva commented, her voice hoarse and charged with a subtle mockery. "They love him. They adore him. Few artists have such power over the masses."
Diantha, with her elegant aura and impeccably dressed, kept her gaze fixed on Asher's image.
"Asher's stage magnetism is a phenomenon worthy of study, Malva," Diantha replied, her tone perfectly measured. "He is the perfect combination of talent, youth, and that air of noble mystery that fascinates Kalos."
Malva chuckled, a dry sound.
"But getting back to the point, Princess, and forgive my frankness..." Malva leaned in a little closer. "... Aren't you jealous of all this adoration your fiancé is receiving?"
The question hung in the air, sharp as a Dragon Claw.
Diantha's face did not flinch. There was a pause so long that Asher's voice, singing about the thrill of speed, filled the silence.
"Jealousy?" Diantha asked, the word stripped of any real emotion. "No, Malva. I am not jealous. Jealousy is an emotion reserved for those who fear the loss of something they truly value."
Diantha took a sip of her drink. She kept her gaze fixed on Malva.
"Asher is a contract, an alliance, and a fundamental piece in the political map of Kalos. His talent is an asset that the League and the Elite D'Ashef intend to preserve and, if necessary, control."
She smiled then. A small, tense smile, completely devoid of joy.
"As for being my fiancé... It's an arrangement. A calculated move in the great game of the Kalos nobles."
Malva leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms.
"The Princess is relentless," Malva whispered, with a genuine smile.
"Indeed," Diantha concluded, watching the crowd wave their lights.
The Echo of Lost Time
As he danced and sang with perfection, the heavy beat of "Rapid Fire" became a tool to silence the external noise and allow his mind to wander.
I am not from here.
It was the only thought, the only certainty that remained intact since sixteen years ago. His consciousness, his soul, his complete self, had been transplanted into the body of a baby, without a soul of its own, who had been born to then be adopted into one of the richest and most prestigious families in Kalos: the D'Ashef.
His new mother, Countess Elodie D'Ashef, a woman of cold beauty and imposing elegance, had welcomed him with a devotion he had never imagined. His adoptive father, Count Victor, a man with the rigidity of a Stakataka, had given him the name Asher (blessed) and the D'Ashef surname, opening the doors to a life of opulence and a perfect alibi.
As he grew, the noble world of Kalos was revealed as a gilded cage. His parents wanted him to dedicate himself to the Elite, to keep the D'Ashef name high, even orchestrating his engagement to the Champion Diantha, a power play he detested.
Music was his escape, the only place where he could mix the influences of his previous life (pop, rock, electronic music melodies) with the organic beauty of the Pokémon world.
I am a ghost, he thought, moving to the rhythm. An echo of a dead world, trapped in a diamond.
The chorus of "Rapid Fire" hit again. The part that spoke of living life to the fullest, without looking back.
Asher took the microphone with both hands, letting the music take over him. If he was going to be an impostor, he would be the best this world had ever known. He would use the fame to do what he wanted, what pleased him. Music was a perfect disguise, a glorious noise that drowned out the murmur of his ghost consciousness.
The song ended with an electronic fade-out. The stadium exploded again in applause and screams.
"The next one is a new one!" he shouted, and the stadium went wild at the mention of unreleased material.
As the lights dimmed to make way for a more intimate set, a message flashed discreetly on his floor monitor: "C. D'Ashef waiting in your suite. Says she has urgent news. MAXIMUM level."
Asher felt a chill. Countess Elodie. Urgent news of Maximum level. Had his secret been discovered? Or would it be something more related to the Kalos nobility?
He took a deep breath. The show must go on. He approached the microphone, his violet eyes fixed on the stadium's horizon. His expression returned to that of the enigmatic Bard.
"This is a song for all those who seek something beyond the horizon, for that light that guides your path... This is Shining Star."
The melody began. A soft, almost ceremonial, flute melody. While he sang, his mind was no longer on the stage. He was planning. Three songs were left until the end. He had to prepare to face the Countess.
The Ghost of Time had to keep dancing in the light. And then, he would have to face his shadow.