When: April 14, 2001; Blackthorn prefecture
Summary: Clair did not ask for this.
Warnings: Death, slight gore. This links into a larger fic-verse known as IR-verse.

~:: We fly to the heavens on wings of a dragon tonight ::~

"Get the wounded to safety!" Miyami had to shout to be heard over the crescendo of noise clattering the valley-front.

It would figure that the Rockets -everyone assumed Rockets given the uniforms- would attack under the cover of pre-dawn darkness. If it hadn't been for the young sentry they would never have known. While most of the Rockets were on fearow and pideot back, there were still those on the ground to worry about. She grit her teeth, ducking down when something headed her way. It didn't reach. Opening an eye, she saw her cousin Masaru's kadabra using Protect. Good. A look around and she nodded thanks before narrowing her eyes.

It was chaos.

Wardens on the ground, Riders in the air... A look around only proved it when she saw two Riders with the polearms in the thick of things. Thankfully she didn't see her daughter, or her sister's children. Thank the First Dragons. They were too young to deal with this shit of a draturd. "Make sure Ibuki stays at Fusube."

"Understood, ma'am," The ace Trainer beside her nodded and teleported out. She knew Clair, Lance, and the rest would manage to defend Blackthorn if any Rockets entered. No. It would not be needed, she was certain of it. They were Tatsuno; they'd protected and defended this region of Johto for millennia.

She took another look around, snarling to herself as she pulled on the bare minimum armour to protect her against pokemon attacks.

Rockets. Arceus condemn Kanto to the end of time! Couldn't they keep their own issues in their backyard? Sharding shellards of a draturd from a fresh queen. Her jaw set in hatred and determination as her helmet slid into place. She couldn't say she was shocked; Kanto had a 'habit' of proving Johtoan faith wrong time and again. Well. Time to do something about that. She didn't even have to look for the 'ball she wanted. She knew which one of her dragons it was.

"Bou. Let's go." The salamence roared as its mistress jumped on its back, hand finding the basic flight straps with ease. A jerk and up they went, two flygon Riders flanking them while a dragonair Rider whipped past, some sort of electric pokemon with it.

Miyami ignored it all, eyes on the pidegot and fearow that circled overhead, riders looking down with a smirk before they headed higher, taunting her. She thought she saw a flash of red, but it was impossible to tell and she wasn't going to jump to conclusions. Red hair could belong to anyone, not just clan members. She urged Bou onward and higher, leaving her escort behind to deal with any Rockets that tried to come from behind or below, following the fliers as they banked right then left, circling before finally hovering in the chill pre-dawn air.

Miyami's snarl was stolen by the air and the sound of her cape whipping behind her, but her thoughts were her own. Arrogant things, but she'd deal with them herself. The location of the Holyland was secretive and well guarded, but anyone who put in the effort could find the aerial location of the valley. It seemed the Rockets had done just that.

Mother wasn't going to like that and Father would be having a fit alongside her. They'd need to cover it up better, invest in better psychics and holographic technology-

She could think on that later, and more to the point, Father's role was Security.

Her hand went for the rifle at her side -

It never made it.

A shot rang out, followed by a cry of shock and a roar of denial as the salamence dove to catch the injured woman, Miyami's eyes were wide as her hand pressed against the shoulder wound, as if to starve the blood flow. Her other hand grabbed at the straps as soon as she could, ignoring the pain that lanced her anew. She twisted her hand into the straps with a grunt, heart pounding. Bloodloss was not something that she needed now at these heights with the air perilously thin, yet with her heart pounding and the panic that came with being shot...

Her adrenaline levels were spiking and there wasn't a thing she could do but end the fight now. "Destruction Beam."

The dragon roared, mouth opening wide as energy rapidly built in the gaping maw. Its head swung around as the Hyper Beam was unleashed. They were diving not a second later, executing a barrel roll. Eyes closed, her grip on the flight straps tightened as she put all her faith in the dragon that she called hers, trusting that it would not allow its master to die. "Defend me."

As they descended, her thoughts turned to Clair, and Kris, so new to the Clan but already one of them in spirit she was sure. To her sister and her nephews and nieces. They had to win, she was fighting to defend not just the Holyland of the clan and dragons, but Blackthorn and its way of life. If the attack succeeded here... She dare not contemplate what might happen. It was far too horrible.

Another shot rang out, this one just missing her and Miyami jerked on the straps to pull her dragon up. Her eyes caught sight of the pidgeot rider. They widened as the colour drained from her face. She knew him clear as day, even in the uniform and cloak and cowl. He was no Admin-

"No...Why..."

"Yes."

"We trusted you! Sayako trusted you!"

The rider smirked and her heart seemed to drop back to the ground. It was her brother-in-law. She was the only one who'd seen him and she was powerless against what was to come as he levelled his gun. "She still trusts me. She'll always trust me."

"You would shoot your own sister-in-law? You would murder the next Clan Head...?"

"Sayako will become the Head."

He was Kantan. She should have been more vocal against the marriage.

Stupid, stupid Kantan. They ruined everything.

"You fool. It will go to Ibuki." Miyami's eyes widened when the gun cocked, heart racing, mind locked in shock at his smile. He knew how it worked; he'd murder her, murder Clair, murder Kris, all so his wife could be Clan Head, all so he could be an Elder, because every spouse of the Head was an Elder. She knew that she should do something, but what? Neither she nor Bou could outrun or dodge a bullet this close, and she-

The shot rang out.

Miyami heard a shout, but it seemed so distant compared to the pain that blossomed in her mind. Looking down she saw the blood staining her chest. She knew then he'd hit a lung. If she didn't suffocate, he'd end her life. Her eyes widened in horror at the implications. They slid to the ground several thousand feet below, then back up to her brother-in-law. She made the choice then and there.

She was going to die, but she had to take him out, had to do something- "Destruction Beam."

The beam attack from the salamence caught the pidgeot side on and it screeched in pain. But that wasn't all. She saw the rider signal to something behind her. Turning, she watched in horror as the fearow she'd forgotten about until now dove towards her, its beak seeming to spin as it collided with the hind of her salamence, drilling into the flesh before pulling out, only to do it again and again.

She looked away as the dragon roared, turning to face its attacker. It caught a wing in it's mouth but not before the damage was done, spinal cord exposed and bone nicked in several places. It would not be long before the back end gave out and the deadweight dragged it down. A pity, she thought numbly. The pokemon had been one of her best fighters. The dragon had been her friend and she'd worked her arse off to gain its -his- trust. A glance up at the rider and she wished she hadn't.

The last thing she saw was the cold grin as he pulled the trigger yet again.

Both human and pokemon were dead by the time they hit the ground with a crack and snap of bones and metal.

The lights on her pokeballs flickered out, sealing the occupants' fates.

They had no way of knowing the murderer would remain at large, that most of the 'Rockets' would be killed, bodies tossed onto makeshift fires. They were criminals; unworthy of identification. The remaining 'Rockets' would flee; they would later be gunned down in back alleys by the mastermind, the blame pinned on various causes, including smuggling and drug running.

It was how it was.


"I'm sorry."

Thank the Queens Kris isn't here, Clair thought as she stared at the nurse like he'd grown a second head.

This couldn't be happening. Her mother couldn't be amongst the dead from the morning's attack. She couldn't. "Who?"

"The Rockets. We managed to deal with them, but not before..."

"The Holyland is a mess." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

Clair shook her head even as her mind raced. Changes would have to be made; she'd be forced into assuming the title of heir unless her grandmother chose her aunt, but that wasn't how clan politics worked. Sayako was second born and had not given birth to a daughter before Clair had been born.

"I understand."

"Riuko-sama is taking care of the funeral."

"Of course." Clair wanted to scream. The politics that were to come were not something she wanted to deal with. She was going to be the heir. Lance was a choice but he was a male and the clan hadn't had a male heir in well over two hundred years. It was as simple as that, but she knew that her aunt would protest and try to leverage his status as a Forest Child to her own favour.

Clair could hear the arguments now. It couldn't be helped though; the woman had always been like that and her husband would protest it even more. But the man was from Kanto. What would a Kantan know about their way of life-

Clair blanked her mind, unwilling to go down that path right now. "What of the Gym? Her team?"

"The League will decide."

Clair's face twisted into a look of rage. "Kanto would dare-?"

"They do," the nurse said with an apologetic bow.

"And the Johto Elite will dance along like always," Clair muttered bitterly before she exhaled slowly, relaxing her hands. "I understand," she said with a sharp nod.

She needed to warn Lance. She needed to make sure he wasn't in the crossfire of Kanto forcing a Gymleader on them, and Lance was, even without his gift, talented. If they couldn't find him, they couldn't attempt to shackle him to the Gym.

"But for now your mother's Trainers will run it." Thank the Immortals. "Her pokeballs were damaged in the fall and the team unable to be retrieved."

Her heart skipped a beat. Her mother had fallen to death? She calculated the height needed to break a 'ball and whimpered. At least it was only her mother's main team.

"They'll be buried with her," the nurse finished.

"I see." Clair dismissed the man with a wave.

Only once she was gone did the young woman collapse back on the couch and hug her bagon pillow. It wasn't fair. She didn't want this to be true; she wanted her mother to be here, not lying cold on a slab as they made the burial arrangements. Spectacular as they would be, it wasn't the same.

She wasn't ready for this. She was only twenty-one.

She'd have to tell Kris; the child had loved her grandmother even though they weren't related by blood. She'd have to let Lance know, if he didn't know already.

A sigh and she stood. She was to be the Clan Heir, if not clan Head. Unready or not, she'd been brought up with the understanding that she would one day be Clan Head.

She'd best get it done with before Kris heard it from another source.

As she exited the house, she started to dial Lance's number on her pokegear.

"Wataru. It's me," she started once he picked up. "I've got some news for you, little brother."

~:: With the heart of a dragon we ride ::~