Link (liNGk):
Verb
1. To make, form, or suggest a connection with or between two things.
"I think that it's good you're getting out, Steven. A real good thing, I'd say."
The young man laughed in response to his father's statement. "Is this the reason you called? I'm not a shut-in, you know." He set his bag on a flat-topped boulder, then positioned his PokeNav against it. The last thing he wanted was for this prototype to fall into the lake below—the developers would throttle him.
"You don't look like one, that's for sure!"
Steven fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead took the time to inspect his appearance in the lake's reflection. When he realized his tie was crooked he fiddled with it, smoothing the silky fabric against the white shirt. Work wear wasn't the easiest to travel in—especially the pants, which were rather form-fitting to his posterior, but he was getting used to it.
It would have been much easier to take a car, he realized, instead of going by foot. But it had been so long since he had been inside of the Petalburg Woods, so he decided to go by foot. Besides, he doubted that anyone would be out at six in the morning; it would be peaceful and relaxing, a sort of break before the rush of the day.
"I leave the office sometimes," he said. "Aren't I outside right now?"
"You left because of work, you workaholic!" His father's laughter buzzed through the PokeNav's receiver. "PR made a good call, though, having you advertise the company by taking the League Challenge. Pre-orders for the newest PokeNav are through the roof!"
"I am not a—!" Steven paused, realizing he couldn't really argue back. After all, he did convert a portion of his office into a bedroom just so that he could cut out his commute to work. "I have my reasons," he said instead.
"You're twenty, boy. You should be trying to avoid adult responsibilities, not welcoming them with open arms."
"And exactly what do you think I was doing these last few years?"
Steven turned back to his reflection, running a hand through his hair. He had debated slicking it back for a while now, just so it was a little more professional looking, but in the end he decided to keep the same, only slightly messy hairstyle he adopted in his teens. He had given up a number of things within these past few months, so keeping his hair the same felt inconsequential.
"So, Steven, how far along are you? You left pretty early, so you should be out of the forest soon."
"Well…" Steven looked around for the wooden sign he had seen about ten minutes ago and, seeing the corner peek out from behind a tree, jogged over to it. "About a fourth of a mile," he said. "Though I'm not sure if distance means to the exit of the woods or to the actual city."
"Right. Oh, I know this is last minute, but could I get you to run an errand for me?"
Steven hesitated; his father's "errands" somehow always ended with him at dinner with a person of the opposite sex, usually with his father hoping that he'd become romantically attached.
"I'm not trying to set you up this time, Steven, I promise." Oh, sure. How many times had he heard those words come out of his father's mouth?
"Didn't you say that the last time I agreed to one of these 'errands' of yours?"
"I mean it this time!" His father said. "It's just a dinner with the CEO of a financing company..."
He recognized that tone. "And who else?" The dirt path Steven had been walking on became asphalt; if he squinted, he could see the exit. Not much longer until he was out.
"…and his daughter."
He debated hanging up. "Dad. What did I tell you about setting me up?"
"To not do it. But Steven—!"
"Not now, dad." Steven stopped his brisk pace and leaned against a nearby tree. "I appreciate the thoughtfulness, but I'm sure I'm capable of getting my own dates." He glanced over at the exit one last time and caught a glimpse of a person sprinting inside the forest, going off the asphalt path. Curious and worried for their safety, Steven began to jog after them, if only so he could drag them back onto the path.
"That's only until they find out about the rock collection!"
"You mean rare stone collection. If I were to be specific, I'd call it a—"
His father groaned loudly, interrupting him. "Steven, that's exactly what I'm talking about!"
Just a few more feet.
She willed her legs to move faster, lungs to pump harder, as if pushing her body to its limits would edge out the dark images that loomed at the outskirts of her consciousness.
A dimly lit room; a metal table, a tray of sharp instruments.
She willed herself to fly, fly…fly, damn it!
Being held against her will. Purple liquid, thick like Combee honey.
At this point her lungs were burning, like she was inhaling fire. It didn't matter. She didn't dare stop, not even for a moment.
Needles breaking through her skin. Something burning; someone shouting.
Burn, she urged her lungs; burn so that the fires in her chest could turn her nightmares into ashes!
Sickly sweet poison that crawled down her throat.
The ground suddenly slipped out from under her feet, and she was tumbling, scraping against the earth. Curses escaped her lips.
That voice, crawling beneath her skin. "Titania."
Finally, she stopped rolling. Shaky arms tried to lift her back onto her feet. But her body was tired, and her arms gave way and she collapsed onto the dirt.
She shut her eyes tight, feebly pushing back tears. Arceus, she was so weak.
"Are you okay?"
Hands gripped her arms, lifting her to her feet. Too weak to even brush the dirt out of her eyes, she allowed herself to be led by this passing stranger.
"Watch your step," she heard them say. They were whispering, as if she'd break if they spoke too loudly. "There's a large root." She still tripped over it anyways. The stranger caught her, helped her back onto her feet.
After a few moments, the stranger gently pressed down on her shoulders. "Sit," they said. She complied. Gentle hands tenderly wiped the dirt from her face; she didn't dare lift her eyes to look this person in the face.
A hand lifted her leg. A moment later, a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness your scrape doesn't look too serious." It still hurt, she thought to herself, the pain throbbing all along the length of her calf muscle.
Even when the stranger let go, her leg remained poised in the air. She felt like one of those wooden dolls, the ones with the adjustable limbs; if the circumstances were different she might have laughed.
The hand returns, gently rotating her leg. "This might sting a little." A gentle warning, followed by the smell of rubbing alcohol and another image—of a distorted face, of a syringe dripping with purple liquid.
"This is going to sting. Try not to scream, Titania."
Her vision went dark. Again, the nightmare she had shoved to the edge of her awareness clawed its way forward, sinking its talons deep into the marrow of her bones. She couldn't help her reaction—she screamed and jumped to her feet, tripping over herself as she scrambled away.
"Hey, wait!"
But she was already running again, disappearing into the cover of the trees.
Steven was excited about his upcoming battle. Even though it had only been in operation for six months, the Petalburg Gym had already proved itself to be one of the most difficult in the Hoenn circuit. Getting to the Leader was a challenge in itself, as the hand-picked gym trainers were past League qualifiers. But defeating the Gym Leader would be no easy feat, either—rumor has it that early on in his career he had been offered a spot on the Elite Four. Those who earned their badge (and they were relatively few) were shoo-ins for the Champion League.
Of course, Steven expected to be lumped into the few. He had no qualms about his strength as a trainer—he was considered a strong contender for Champion, even with only seven badges. The fact of the matter was that he was one of the strongest, if not the strongest trainer in Hoenn. Winning his eighth badge was inevitable, especially because his Steel- and Rock-types could deflect any move this normal-type gym could throw at him.
"All right," he said, exhaling deeply. "It's show time." Steven pulled the door open and walked into the lobby, expecting to see gym trainers awaiting the arrival of a challenger. But there was no one, not even a receptionist to man the desk (which itself was just a table with a swivel chair). Steven double-checked the hours of operation on his PokeNav—yes, the gym was open today. He wondered if they were out for an early lunch.
"Wait, what? You're kidding!"
The voice—a girl's—had come from the direction of the battle area. Steven, immediately assuming that the voice belonged to a gym trainer (or to the receptionist, at least), began to walk towards the source. He needed to have those battles within the next couple of hours—he was going to take the afternoon to look around Petalburg Woods for that screaming girl. He was a worried for her, if not a bit curious about her situation.
"What do you mean, 'you let everyone else go for the day'? Are you telling me that I have to handle every single trainer from now until closing—by myself?"
The door that led to the battle area was propped open with a wooden chair. From a distance Steven could see the man he recognized as the Petalburg Gym Leader standing on the field, his arms crossed over his chest. Steven thought he looked as imposing as he did in pictures and on TV.
"Titania," Steven heard him say, addressing the unseen girl, "you're the only one that hasn't met the quota yet—the one you put into place, if you don't remember." The man sighed. "Besides, your grandparents are coming over, and we promised your mother that we'd close the gym early to help with the cooking. We're not pulling a 'Wallace' on you."
Steven understood the reference. Wallace was a close friend and another League contender, and the water-type specialist had once recounted the story to him. Apparently, all the Gym Trainers had come down with food poisoning except for Wallace (a bad case of sashimi; Wallace was vegetarian at the time) around peak trainer season. Instead of closing down the gym until more trainers were well, Wallace volunteered to take on their work—which meant he was battling from the moment the gym opened until closing, sometimes eight hours a day. It was only a few days, but Wallace had to take a month off just to let his Pokemon recuperate.
"I know, I know." Steven turned his attention back to the conversation. In the time it took for him to think of Wallace, the girl who had been speaking appeared in Steven's viewing window. His first thoughts were that she looked a lot like the Gym Leader—black hair that reached her shoulders; a stern, but clear gaze; a small mouth that curved downwards, giving the impression of a pout. Steven's second thought was that she was rather pretty.
The third thought came quickly, but the moment it was processed it blew the other thoughts out the window. Steven could be wrong. The girl he had seen this morning had been covered in twigs and leaves, and any exposed skin was raw and bleeding slightly; this one was too put together, too attracti…er, too calm. Though he hadn't been able to get a good look at the face of the girl—she had kept her head down, even when she fled screaming—Steven was 99% confident that the girl standing before him was the same girl he had met in the forest this morning.
Thank Arceus she looked all right. Steven pulled the door open, deciding that it was time to stop eavesdropping on their conversation and get back on schedule.
"Hello," he said, bowing slightly. "I hope I'm not interrupting, but I was hoping to schedule a battle."
The girl—Titania was her name, right?—recognized him immediately. "Steven Stone!" She placed her hands on her hips and gave him a once-over. Steven felt his face warm slightly at the stare.
"I was waiting for your challenge." When he turned he saw the Gym Leader with his hand outstretched. "I'm Norman Maple, the Gym Leader here. She - " he gestured to the girl with his chin; she, in turn, waved. " - is my daughter, Titania, and also a trainer here."
"Nice to meet you both," Steven said, taking Norman's hand and giving it a firm shake. "I came when you first opened, but the line to this gym was so long that I opted to save this gym for last."
"Well, I hope we're worth the wait." The bellowing laugh that came from Norman reminded Steven of his dad's. "Let me get you up to speed on how this gym works. Before you can challenge me, you have to battle one of my gym trainers, who all specialize in particular Pokemon stats—speed, attack, defense, et cetera. The least you have to do is impress them, but the easiest way to do that is to defeat them."
Steven nodded. "That's simple enough."
"Don't you think that's a little unnecessary?" Titania crossed her arms. "I mean, we know how Steven Stone battles. League favorite, remember?"
"Even so, Titania, we can't show favoritism. Besides, this would help your quota."
"It's like you want me to lose, dad."
"It's no problem for me," Steven added quickly. "I think that a quick win would be a good warm-up for my Pokemon."
He wondered if the provocation would slip past her. He said it quickly and lightly, as if to cut back on how arrogant it sounded, and non-trainers wouldn't think much of it, but any trainer with a competitive bone in their body would know his words were a challenge.
Case in point: Norman was clearly aware of his intent, looking on at the two of them with an expression Steven could only interpret as curious delight. When both men made eye contact with one another the older broke out into a knowing grin.
"A…warm-up?" Steven turned his gaze back to Titania, expectant for her reaction.
Oh, boy, was he enjoying it. She was smiling—it was a beautiful smile, for sure—and if it weren't for the fact that the room temperature suddenly dropped thirty degrees Steven probably would have been a little more dazzled by it. There was no mistaking it: not only had she caught on to his challenge, she was ready to send him to the gates of the Distortion World to meet his maker.
"Right, I suppose you need a little…thrashing," she said, the words sounding as if they had been pushed out from between her teeth. "Allow me to give you the warm, Maple welcome."
Titania found a number of things satisfying: running in the Petalburg Woods, fresh cheesecake, and pushing her Pokemon to their limits. Today, she had to add one more thing to the list: Steven Stone's angry and frustrated face.
All the handsome, but with a dash of flustered.
"Eevee, follow up Quick Attack with Sand Attack!"
He looked like he wanted to throttle her, and while she couldn't blame him—Lairon was practically blind with all the sand flying around—it was just so damn satisfying to watch him.
"Blow the sand away!" he said, crying out. "Give it a full-body Metal Sound!"
"Underground, Eevee! Dig!"
Titania stood her ground, trying her best not to fall flat on her back at the force of the sound wave, which might as well have been an attack. She already knew about Steven Stone as a trainer, but holy Arceus, his Pokemon were insanely strong, even when operating at half their power. Forget beating her dad—she was positive that he could become League Champion.
"Ah, I'm antsy," she muttered to herself. "Better end this. Eevee, knock 'em back! Last Resort!"
Lairon's armored head snapped backward, lifting the rest of its body into the air.
"What?" Steven Stone's surprise was to be expected—Eevee weren't known for their strength, and against the heavier Pokemon their attacks usually did no damage. Titania was aware of that…but she was also aware of the power of surprise attacks. Paired with Last Resort, knocking back a behemoth of an iron lizard was a like blowing air at a pinwheel.
"Make Lairon go belly-up, Eevee!" She cried out. "Quick attack right to its center!"
"Send 'em flying! Iron Head, Lairon!"
It was too late for Eevee to dodge, even with Lairon being airborne. The impact of the heavy metal Pokemon on Eevee's frame sent the fox Pokemon flying across the gym and into the back wall of the arena.
Titania ran to check over Eevee's condition. "You all right?" Eevee growled then shook off the move, barking twice to indicate that it was still able to continue. Titania sighed. "If you're sure you want to do that. Quick Attack!"
"You haven't had enough of us yet?" Steven said, taunting Titania from across the gym. "I guess it's time for me to teach you a lesson! Lairon, Iron Tail!"
"Oh, crap!" Titania grit her teeth. Eevee couldn't handle being thrown across the gym again, especially when the damage was dealt by an opponent over sixty times heavier than it. "Eevee, Quick Attack-Dig combo!"
"Not a chance!" Steven Stone cried out. "Let's end this, Lairon—Earthquake!"
Titania made a last minute decision. "Double-time it!"
When Lairon's attack hit the ground the whole building shook so badly Titania (who actually fell this time) thought that the ceiling would crash down on them. When the dust cleared she saw that the gym floor had actually split apart, multiple fissures stretching from Steven Stone's side of the field and into the wall behind her.
"Holy shit," she breathed. "Holy shit."
Across the way, she could see Steven with that smug grin on his face. Titania knew he thought he'd won, and she didn't blame him for it. But the battle wasn't over yet.
She looked for the telltale sign—a wagging tail, a twitching ear. The seconds ticked by, and for a moment Titania believed that she and Eevee lost the battle. Immediately she thought of how to help her Pokemon recuperate: a hot bath; nice food; relaxing music. The worry was short-lived, however, when she saw two little paws poking out from right under Lairon.
"We're not done!" Titania said, pumping her fist into the air. "Eevee—Hidden Power!"
He lost.
He, the indomitable Steve Stone, the trainer voted as the "favorite" to win the League, had lost… to an Eevee. Granted, he had let down his guard at the very end, which led to that surprise assault from the opposing side, but even so: it was an Eevee. It shouldn't have left a scratch on the Lairon he so carefully raised.
"Thanks for wrecking the gym, Mr. Stone." When he turned he found Titania walking up to him, a grin plastered on her face. "I haven't felt an Earthquake that bad since I was in Johto."
"Well, it's my Pokemon that are incredible, not me," he said, giving her a half-smile. "I think it's even more incredible that I lost. Honestly, it stings a little."
"Surprise attacks can do that," she said. "In any case, our battle was an exception. If this were a six-on-six, though, I'm sure I'd be a goner." Then she crouched, holding out her hand to Lairon (who was feeling much better after eating some berries, a gift from Norman), allowing it to sniff her hand before she began to rub its head.
"I'm glad you think I'm strong, but this battle tells me you're formidable yourself." He crouched as well, tenderly spraying a Hyper Potion in the more banged up areas. "You'll be at the League, right?"
Her hand stopped moving; for a moment, she was silent. Then, "No, I'm not. I don't even have any badges."
Steven's eyebrows shot up. "Really? I thought you'd have at least one."
Another beat of silence. "I got one from Goldenrod, so that doesn't apply here."
Titania went back to petting Lairon, but the fact that the smile disappeared from her face made Steven begin to panic. Clearly, he had stepped on a land mine, just as he had in the Petalburg Woods where they first met. If he wasn't careful, she might run away from him again.
He quickly took hold of her hand and stood, bringing her to her feet. "Look," he said, scrambling for words, "I'm…" He took a deep breath, spoke again. "I'm glad you look better than this morning."
Titania's brow furrowed. "This…morning?"
"In the woods," he explained. "You ran away screaming, so I was going to look for you, but then I saw you here and—"
"That was you?" Her voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. Steven couldn't help but notice the way the color seemed to drain from her face. "Don't…don't tell my dad." Her free hand gripped his arm. "Please."
Steven's gaze traveled over to Norman, who was on the phone about fifty feet away from them. "I won't," he finally said, "if that's what you really want."
The breath of relief that left Titania sounded a little ragged. "Thank you. I just don't want him to worry about me. He'd take it too far."
"I mean, you were screaming—"
"I was half asleep and probably dreaming about something," she reasoned. "I usually go for a run a couple of hours later, so I'm not used to being up this early."
Steven was half sure that she wasn't telling the truth, but he allowed it to slip by. "By the way," he said, changing the subject, "what did you think of my battling? Did I pass the test?"
"Pass?" The serious tone in her voice had vanished. "Oh, please. Like I said, our battle was pointless, since we all know that you're more than qualified to take him on."
Titania pointed in the direction her father was in. "You can go and schedule with him, though I would warn you that the earliest we can probably book you is tomorrow morning. We have to fix the field."
"Right, sorry about that," Steven said, smiling sheepishly. "Tomorrow it is." He would have preferred not having to rearrange his schedule, but he was at fault and would have to accept the consequences. Oddly enough, however, he found himself minding it less, simply because he looked forward to assessing Norman's strength for himself.
"I'm sorry if that messes up your schedule, though."
He shook his head. "I have a free afternoon." Now that he didn't have to go looking for her, that is.
At that moment, Steven heard Norman say his goodbyes to whoever was on the phone. "I'm going to schedule that battle now," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
Titania nodded. "Of course, pretty boy. It's not every day that my dad gets his butt handed to him."
Titania had been scrubbing the stubborn food residue from the bottom of a pot when her father came into the kitchen, his face lit up in a grin.
"I don't know if I said this yet, but—" he clapped her on the shoulder, making her drop the pot into the sink, "—you were phenomenal out there, Titania. I wish I had taped it."
"All I did was tell Eevee what to do," she said, responding lightly.
"But you commanded with the kind of skill and competency only a Gym Leader is capable of," he countered. Her dad gave her a wide grin, the kind she rarely saw on his face. "I think you're going to be a great one."
She sighed. "Dad, we went over this."
"I'm not saying you have to take over right now," he added quickly, almost interrupting her, "but a couple of years down the line, when you're ready to start taking on greater responsibilities—"
"Dad." She set down the sponge and turned to face him. "I already told you, I don't want to take over the gym for you."
"Then what do you want to do?" The smile had disappeared from his face as quickly as it had come, and her father had taken a defensive stance, crossing his arms. "Because I think you're wasting a good opportunity."
"I…I don't know," she said, answering truthfully. "There's just a lot I don't know about myself, and if you would just give me the chance to go out on a journey—"
"No."
Titania wanted to pull her hair out. At nineteen years old, she was the only person she knew (and she meant that literally) who hadn't taken at least one year to go off and explore a region; and, while she couldn't complain about the relatively comfortable life she had lived, she couldn't help but feel envious of her friends, who had found out a lot about themselves and what they wanted to do on their journeys.
Up until recently, she never had to think about the future—everything had been set up for her, as if the universe had hand-picked the destiny she was going to wear—and she had accepted it without question and without argument. But now, things were different.
"Dad, please," she begged. "I'm only asking for a year, and in this region! I won't be far from home, no matter where I end up!"
"Absolutely not!" Her father's expression seemed to tighten. "You know it's dangerous out there."
"I just want to find myself," she said. He turned to walk away and she grabbed his arm, saying, "I just want to understand myself again—I want to know what I'm supposed to do with my life!"
"And I can tell you that!" Norman said, his volume quickly rising. "You're meant to take over for me!"
"No, I'm not!" She fought the tears that pricked her eyes. "Why don't you get it, dad? I hate being at the gym! It reminds me of—" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "Dad, please, I'm only asking for one year."
"You can't protect yourself!" Norman said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "It's not safe out there!"
"Yes, I can!" Her tears were falling now; she couldn't hold them back anymore. "The self-defense classes—my Pokemon—"
"Pokemon won't be able to keep you safe from the Teams!" By now, they had drawn a crowd—her mother and her two younger siblings were standing at the door, watching the exchange with wide, worried eyes. "Hoenn isn't safe!"
"Then we shouldn't have moved back here!" She said, matching him in volume. "You're being overprotective—"
"What I'm being," he said, "is smart! You think you have your life figured out—"
"—but I don't!—"
"—but I already know that you can't take care of yourself!" His body was trembling with anger. "I'm not stupid, Titania—you always get yourself into trouble, and it's always me that has to come and rescue you!"
"No, you don't—"
"You think you're an adult now? Newsflash, kid: you couldn't even protect yourself from Hale!"
Titania stared at her father, mortified into silence. A moment later, a horrified expression appeared on his face, and he reached out to her. "Titania, honey, I…I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"—no, it's fine, dad." She shrugged him off, then turned to leave. It actually wasn't, and they both knew it, but her own pride wouldn't let her admit the truth. "I'll just go."
Steven watched his dinner company exit the restaurant, one hand swirling around the glass of Bordeaux that had been ordered for them. As expected, Mr. Basile, CEO of the Basile Financing Company, and his daughter had done their best to make their best impression on him, his father's stand-in. They had taken him to the priciest venue in Petalburg and ordered the most expensive items on the menu, including the wine, which remained only half drunk when they left. They even paid for his dinner.
"Lavish and wasteful," he murmured to himself, picking up the receipt to once again look at the expenses. "And yet, they don't tip."
This display was all calculated, of course—Devon was about to take a number of projects, all of which were expected to be especially lucrative, and his father was looking for companies willing to invest in them. The Basile Financing Company was obviously one of those contenders and, knowing his father, the deal was just about sealed in stone... pun intended.
There was also the matter of women. Steven had met with a number of financing companies over the past few months, and each and every President or CEO with a female in their family had brought them along—he was no longer surprised when a girl "just so happened to be dropping by" or "was on break from university".
The Basile girl was no different than he had expected. She was rather pretty, as these types tended to be, and she paid him a lot of attention, but she was also very much the spoiled princess. (Quite literally, the lock screen on her phone read "Spoiled Princess".) He knew that the Basile CEO was hoping for a possible marriage, but Steven definitely was not interested. Fortunately for him, his own father was a fan of love-based marriages, which meant that he didn't have to marry for the sake of the company.
A good thing, he supposed. He wasn't especially inclined towards having relationships, given that he was always on the move, and ever since the end of his last relationship (about two years now, he estimated) he decided that when he fell in love—the kind of love that had been between his father and mother—that he'd never let that person go.
Steven took another sip of wine, looking out the window of the restaurant at Petalburg. He could see the gym from here, standing atop of a hill on the opposite side of the city. First thing tomorrow, he would battle Norman and earn the Balance Badge (because, of course, victory was a given). Hopefully, he would be able to see Titania, as well.
She was an interesting character, though Steven supposed it was because she was shrouded in mystery. Why had she been running through the Woods at six in the morning? Why was she so clearly distraught? What was her true extent as a trainer? Why had she never taken on a Gym Challenge?
One thing was clear, though: Norman intended for Titania to succeed him as Gym Leader. When he had gone to schedule his battle all Norman could do was boast about Titania's skill as a trainer and how great of a Gym Leader she was going to be. Steven wondered what she thought about it.
He could ask her tomorrow.
"Shall I go fetch your check?"
Steven's head snapped around to find a waiter—the same one that had served them earlier—looming over him.
"No worries," he said, replying automatically. "I've already…" He trailed off when the waiter rolled up his sleeve, revealing the very familiar Team Magma symbol on his arm.
"On second thought," he said, "I'd be very happy for you to do that."
"Right away, sir."
The waiter walked away, and Steven fished out his wallet from his pocket. He placed cash inside the original check—he made it a principle to tip well—and handed it to the Magma waiter, who returned only a few moments later with a manila folder.
"You have a good night, sir."
"And you, as well."
Steven rose from the table, leaving the half-eaten food and drink behind.
It had been years since they had come together as a whole. Their entire existence was founded on a deep-seated rivalry—they were polar opposites, plain and simple, and it had been that way for a very long time. Rumor had it that they were forming a coalition, but neither side could believe it. Their Leaders could hardly stand to be in the same room; working together? Impossible.
At least, that's what they had been certain of until they stood together on the stage. They lacked the animosity of previous confrontations and, while they weren't looking each other in the eyes, the fact that they were being civil towards each other was enough to force the crowd into a tensioned silence.
The Magma Leader, Maxie, stepped forward to the podium. "Members of Team Magma and Team Aqua," he said, "thank you for being present at this emergency meeting. We understand that the relations between our two teams have not been the most ideal, but we implore you to take what we say next to heart."
He paused, taking a moment to survey the room. "I, Maximillian of Team Magma, and Archibald of Team Aqua, stand before you today in a show of alliance."
Murmurs broke out amongst the crowd, a low rumble of clear discontent.
"I understand your concern," Maxie continued. "We have been a divided in action and in goal for almost a decade. However," he gripped the podium tightly, "Archibald and I are in agreement that the time has come for us to return to our original, allied state."
At this, the crowd's murmuring grew more frenzied. Maxie turned his gaze to Archie, who then stepped up to the platform himself.
"Listen," he said, his booming voice echoing in the room. "It's not like we're dissolving the teams or anything—we're just moving as one unit, with one goal. Aquas will be Aquas, and Magmas will be Magmas."
"However," Maxie stepped up to the mic again, "We are not doing this out of whim. Our parent group—from which we had originally stemmed from—has contacted us again with an operation that requires the efforts of both teams."
He out a remote from his pocket then pointed it at the projector. Behind them, the words flashed on the screen: "Operation: Statum Nexus".
"The Iunctis Orbis, that is, our parent group," Maxie said, "has chosen Team Magma and Team Aqua to lead the operation here in Hoenn. This plan has been in the works for over ten years, and it will be the grandest undertaking by any one organization." He stepped back, allowing for Archie to step forward.
"This ain't the normal kinds of things that we've been doing lately," Archie said. "This is the big leagues, and we're about to weather a storm so fierce that it could rip apart Hoenn in an instant—what we need from you," he pointed out into the audience, "our members, is your commitment to see this plan through until its completion."
"Because when you do," Maxie said, once again taking the mic, "we all will be greatly rewarded."
At this, Archie frowned. "I wanted to say that," he whispered to Maxie.
Maxie simply said, "Sorry," though Archie knew he wasn't sorry at all.
"To lead us," Maxie said, "the Iunctis Orbis has sent in their most capable person. Archibald and I know the extent of his abilities, as he is a former colleague of ours—and a former Magma—as well."
More murmurs, this time from a group of Aquas.
"Chill," Archie said, pushing Maxie off to the side and taking over the mic. "He may have been a Magma, but even I have some respect for him. And don't be fooled—he's young, but he could probably kick your ass in battle and in a fight."
Maxie crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. Honestly, Archie needed lessons in proper public speaking.
"That being said," Archie continued, "everybody, please welcome our new leader, Chad Firesco."
There was a bit of clapping, but for the most part, the audience of Aquas and Magmas could only stare as a young man stepped out and onto the stage. He was young—couldn't be more than nineteen—and with his blond hair, blue eyes, and handsome face the majority couldn't help but think that he belonged on a magazine cover and not in the midst of a den of criminals.
"Thank you Maxie, Archie," he said, nodding at the two Leaders. "I understand the confusion of the Magmas present today—I may have been affiliated with them, but I certainly did not associate with many of my teammates." He adjusted the mic, bringing it closer to his mouth. "I was a member of the covert special teams, so I did not have the time to assimilate with the rest of you, which is a shame."
"However," he continued, "I have to cut all friendly chat short. Today, I am here with orders from the Iunctis Orbis: usurp the Hoenn League."
Caroline watched her husband pace across their kitchen floor. "I know I was harsh, Caroline," he said, suddenly turning to her, "but I'm trying to protect her. Why can't she understand that?"
She held out a bagel to him. "Come and eat breakfast, Norman." He shook his head, refusing the food. Again, she offered the bagel; this time, he sat down at the dining table next to her and took the bread.
"She knows our situation," he said, scooping up cream cheese with a spoon and spreading it on the bread. "We have to be diligent about our safety."
At this, Caroline sighed. "Norman, she's not upset about that. At least, not just that."
"And what, should I just let her do what she wants? Let her walk right into the giant danger zone that this region is?"
"Titania needs an apology, Norman." When her husband turned to her, brow furrowed in confusion, she added, "I think you were out of line to yell at her."
Norman put down his bagel. "I know, Caroline. I just can't help but think—"
"What you think doesn't matter right now," she said, interrupting him. "What's more important is that you make up with your daughter. We can discuss her requests later."
The sigh that left Norman's lips seemed to go on for forever. "I shouldn't have yelled at her." Running a hand through his hair, he said, "Maybe I'm a bad father."
Caroline's fork clattered when it hit the plate. She cupped Norman's face with her hands, forced him to look her in the eyes.
"Don't you dare say that," she said. "You're not."
"I don't know, Caroline." His entire expression drooped—clearly, his actions had bothered him more than she'd thought. "Not when I'm restricting Titania as much as your father did to you."
Caroline shook her head. "You do it to protect her—out of love, Norman." She shook her head. "My father did it because he's an asshole." She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Norman, listen to me: you're not my father."
He was silent for a moment, and Caroline opened her mouth to speak again. At the last second, Norman looked up at her, the corner of his lips turned up in a smile. "Of course I'm not. Otherwise, our love would be incestuous." He kissed her, and she giggled. "You always know what to say."
"Did I ever tell you," she said, changing the subject, "that I was engaged at seventeen?"
"You said he was an old man," Norman said.
"He looked like a Swalot with a toupee." Caroline shuddered, thinking back on the man's face. "And he was twenty years older than my father."
"So when you were seventeen, he was…"
"Sixty-seven."
Norman laughed. "You must regret marrying me, then."
She shrugged. "Yeah, because he was loaded. You, not so much."
"But you thought I was hot, and that's all that mattered." He kissed her again, this time a little more passionately. When he broke away, he whispered, "I love you, Caroline."
"And I love you, hot stuff." Caroline wrapped her arms around Norman's neck and nestled herself into his chest. It was okay to be grossly affectionate, she reasoned, since May and Max were already at school. "That was the last straw, though," she continued, "when my father arranged a marriage for me. The night before our engagement was supposed to be announced, I…"
"You what?"
Caroline felt her breath leave her. "Norman. Her alarm."
"Alarm?"
"Did you hear it go off today?" She rose to her feet and began walking in that direction. "I always hear it go off."
"She's been getting up pretty early, though," she heard Norman say as he trailed after her. "We might have just slept through it."
"I never sleep through anyone's alarms," Caroline said. She hoped she was overthinking things—that Titania wouldn't actually follow in her footsteps—but the ominous feeling that had piled up in her gut left her feeling so very unsure.
"Titania?" Norman knocked on her door. "Titania, are you in there?" No response.
Caroline, impatient, forced the door open, slamming it against the wall. "Titania!"
She wasn't there. Everything else about the room was in place—the bed was perfectly made, the bookshelf overloaded with paraphernalia, books strewn across the desk because they didn't fit on the shelves. Only Titania was missing.
Actually, scratch that. A closer inspection revealed that so much more had disappeared from the room: her favorite red duffel bag; clothes; the family picture that had always been on her desk; her PokeNav charger; her wallet; her Pokemon. Caroline's worst fears had come true—just like her, Titania had run away from home.
And that's a wrap! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you stick around to find out what happens next!
Please let me know what you think by leaving a review. I always love hearing from you guys! (Also, how many of you also read To Find?)
Until next time,
Khryseis
