Chapter Text
The paper in his hands crumples from the too tight hold he has on it. It warps as it grows slowly wetter from the tears that drip off his chin. He doesn’t care. It isn’t the original anyway, just a copy taken from an ancient book. A diary.
Arms wrap around him, the tight hold grounding him in reality, but not enough. His hands shake, but he forces them to steady so he can read the words on the page again. And again. And again.
He reads it over and over, until his vision blurs so badly he can’t see and the clinging arms turn into two sets of hands which gently take the paper from him and lead him away. They force him to sit, they hold him while he loses control of his emotions.
He may not be reading it anymore, but the words are burned into his mind.
We have made a terrible mistake. One we can never hope to make reparation for. Years ago, we condemned a man to death, believing him to be a monster. Our caution was warranted, and many have tried to comfort me with the knowledge that we did not know any better.
They are wrong. We made assumptions based on nothing real. We were wrong. I was wrong.
I chose to drive away an injured man, a man who was visibly suffering, because of nothing but fear. I can only think now of the fear he must have felt. My own can have been only a mere fraction of his when I drove him away. When I sent him to his death.
But he did not die. Somehow, this man persevered. He befriended the Noble Lady Sneasler, and I tried to drive him away from her as well. I have thanked her for not allowing me to do so. I do not know if she understood. She has barely acknowledged me since her Warden’s departure. I cannot blame her for this.
I think back on the times that I met the Lady’s Warden. On the times he helped us. Helped me. Why did he do it? Did he really not hate me for driving him away as I did? Every time I spoke with him, he was friendly. He did not hesitate to help us. But he was also suffering, still. I could see it in the way he held himself, the way he spoke less, the new scars that appeared every time I saw him. He was suffering and I allowed it to continue because, despite having never been anything but kind and helpful, I still feared him.
I didn’t realize my mistakes before it was too late. I wish that I had been kinder. I wish that I had been less afraid and more willing to help. There is much I could have learned from this man, had I only given him a chance. I regret the things that I have done.
He still lives on among us in the ways that he touched all of our lives. In my own beloved Pokemon, raised by his caring hand. In my mentor, Warden Gaeric, who would not be here today if not for his intervention. In Warden Lian, who has come into his own, and who speaks of Lady Sneasler’s Warden fondly as a source of encouragement.
I may never be able to change what I’ve done, but I wish to honor the man whom I failed so badly. Tomorrow, I will make a speech. I will speak to my people of caution, fear, and cruelty, and I will speak to them of compassion. Never again, as long as I live, will another suffer needlessly because of fear.
Never again.
Finally, though I know this message will never reach the Warden, I wish to put words I would speak to him down in writing anyway.
Warden Ingo,
First and foremost, I wish to apologize for the cruelty that I inflicted on you, and the cruelty of all the others who followed my lead. You never deserved such treatment. We called you a monster, but if anyone’s actions could be called monstrous, it would be my own. I would never expect your forgiveness for the wrongs that I have done to you, but I wish for you to know how deeply and genuinely regretful I am. I hope that wherever in Palkia’s great space you have gone, you are happier there. I hope that one day you can heal from all the pain we caused you.
We will never forget you,
Lady Irida of the Pearl Clan