Author's Note: A collaboration with The Fighting Irishman based in his Trodaire universe. Before someone complains at me that Calme/Calem is misnamed, I know what the 'default' name is, but have chosen to use a different one. This is partly to divide the character when he is the MC from the character when he is the NPC, partly to help give him his own individuality. As always, flames will amuse me and remind me that some people really are cannon Nazis. If you enjoy Trodaire and Sabrina in this, a link to The Fighting Irishman can be found in my liked authors.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, things would be pretty similar to now, but I don't own it so suing me is pointless.

Cost of the Crown

Nagi

The morning was bright, sunlight turning the leaves a translucent green as a young teen set his feet on the path out of Vermillion to Saffron, having arrived via the SS Anne the previous night. He looked average, though dark skinned for the Kanto region, black hair falling down into brown eyes that seemed a little too jumpy. His white spattered black shirt and jeans were rumpled as if he'd slept in them, and his boots were scuffed and worn from the long paths any young trainer walked. His hat had the Pokemon league logo on it and a bright red feather, and if his hands strayed to his Pokeballs a little too often and he turned at small noises there was no one outside to notice. The guard at the gates of Saffron waved the youth through after a few suspicious looks, and the boy looked around at the bustle and hustle of Saffron City.

"Like Luminose…" He murmured under his breath, fingers twitching at the memories that city brought up. Good ones, yes, but also so many bad ones. He'd come there after his first gym win, still enjoying what seemed to be an innocent journey. He'd met Professor Sycamore, gained another partner for a brief time on his journey. Serena and he had chocolate in that silly little café and pretended they were drinking coffee because that was more grown up. He'd met Diantha there, and Lysandre. His mind shied away from thoughts of Lysandre, and of his fate. He touched his Pokeballs one at a time, assuring himself that his Pokemon were still at his side.

"Amber, Izanagi, Tempest, Robina, Google, Garden." Names for each of them, to remind him of who they were, not what they were. Some might be content to call them only by their species, to say that they knew their Charmander from a thousand's thousand of others, but he had named them from the moment he'd first known them. It reinforced that they were his friends, his partners, the ones he protected and who in turn protected him. Arceus help any thief foolish enough to steal them, because he would not show pity. He shook himself out of his mood, striding forward. The words of the hiker named Calem ringing in his head.

'Yer headed teh Kanto, Li'l Stag? Yer'd best look up The Fight Club in Saffron when ya get there. Trodaire'll whip yeh and yer Pokes inta the best shape of yer lives. Ifen yer gonna pull off what them hoity-toity's want of ya, yeh'll need to be in it. Tell 'im Calem sent ya, and thanks him fer teachin' Waler them moves.' Words he had taken to heart. Diantha had asked him to go in her place, as one of the children holding the Honor of Kalos, as one of the Champions of the Kalos league, and as a Master who battled with an almost unknown outside of Kalos type and with the Mega Ring. What it meant was that she didn't feel confident enough in herself and that she thought a change of scenery would do him some good. Maybe it would. Maybe being far, far away from Kalos would make him stop dreaming of Route ten and of Geosenge Town every few nights. It was worth a try, anything was at this point.

Hours later, he was reminded of why he hated Luminose City and now hated Saffron almost as much. Too big, too strange, too many people going too many places. At least Luminose had Gogoats that could get him where he was going. Saffron lacked that convenience. He was tired and more than a little frustrated by it all. When he'd tried to ask people where to find The Fight Club many of them had brushed him off saying they were busy. Either people in Kanto had a lot poorer manners towards young Pokemon trainers then those in Kalos did, or his looks were weighing against him. Kanto didn't have many darker skinned people, that was more Orre and Unova and his somewhat missed Kalos. Here, his dusky skin and wider eyes were unusual, exotic, foreign, and foreign in general was something all leagues distrusted equally. And wasn't he here to kick the beedrill's nest at the acting Kalos Champion's request? Kanto and Johto trumpeted about the Dragon Masters, about the power of the almost legendary type. How only Ice and their own kind were really effective on them and Ice was so fragile it was funny to watch them burn trying. In Kalos, they had long since learned that powerful as Dragons were, there were things that could stop them far easier than their own kind or Ice types. He was here to shatter their illusions, to show them what Kalos had kept hidden and protected over the decades and centuries. He was meant to be the death knell of the legend that Dragons were almost invincible, that it took patience and luck and hard training and planning to beat them. They were right to mistrust him in that. But all he really wanted at that moment was directions to the stupid training gym. Without much hope, he approached an older man whose face reminded him vaguely of a Froakie's and the Conkledurr next to him, speaking softly.

"Erm, please sir my name is Nagi, I'm new and a little lost here. Would you happen to have directions to The Fight Club? A Hiker named Calem told me it would be a good place to try and train myself and my Pokemon." His voice was soft, a breath of a musical accent to it, and not yet broken from childish treble to adult tones. He didn't hold much hope that the man would even tell him where to go, but the Conkledurr looked well trained and wise. Perhaps he might have a chance of finding his way there before dinner time after all.

Froakie-face stared at him pensively, his eyes squinting slightly.

"Eh? The Fight Club, yeh say?" He asked.

Nagi tried not to groan at the fact that the first person that appeared even vaguely helpful also appeared to be somewhat senile, and instead kept his cool.

"Yes, the Fight Club. You know it, right?" He asked. Now Froakie-face was positively beaming, and immediately rushed forward and grabbed Nagi's hand and rapidly began shaking it.

"I sure does, kiddo! I work dere!" He said. Nagi couldn't believe his stroke of good luck, and now was slightly ashamed that he had earlier doubted this man's mental competence. "Call me Paulie, everybody does." The older gentleman said. "'Course, most locals jes' call me good ol' Paul, but I's suspectin' you wanna keep 'er simple, yeah?" He asked.

Nagi tried to ignore the fact that his accent was rendering him near-incomprehensible, so he just smiled and nodded and hoped that was the right thing to do. And he was right.

"Swell! Jus' follow me an' Conks here. As a matter of fact, we's headin' back dere anyways!" He gestured to the box that the Conkeldurr was carrying. "As a matter of fact, dat box dere is fulla donuts, cuz today's Friday and every Friday is donut day at the Fight Club!"

Conkeldurr grunted.

"Ok, ok, it's mostly jes' for me, but it's still a day the same!" Paulie was now approaching near-impossible speeds for the way he waddled as he walked, and for a moment it was hard for Nagi to keep up. But keep up he did, and before long they turned a corner of the street and there was the blasted place he was looking for.

It was a lot different than he'd expected. Whereas he had been expecting a building that would look somewhat ornate and traditional, this place sorta looked like a plain old boxing gym. It was square on the outside, and painted in depressing bland colors. But then again, beige was probably a better choice than you'll never take me alive copper. But then Nagi walked inside, and he saw where all of the money was being put. There was a beautiful boxing ring in the middle of the gym, currently unoccupied. There were a bunch of hung heavy bags to the right, and in the center there was an open space no doubt reserved for cardio exercises. Nagi's stomach instinctively protested at the thought of that. Yet despite this, Nagi saw no sign of the mysterious Trodaire.

THWOCK. THWOCK-THWOCK. THWOCK.

He heard that, though. Letting his curiosity take the best of him, Nagi followed the source of the noise to the back corner of the gym, and was blown away by what he saw. It was one of those old-fashioned wooden dummies he'd seen in video clips of old-school martial artists, but those were pudgy old guys in what looked like overblown ponchos. The person hitting this dummy was a woman, and a strikingly gorgeous one at that. She was fluid like water hitting that thing, and for a moment there was silence save for her drill. Then, she finished with a snap kick to the base of the dummy, and without turning around spoke up.

"Who did you bring with you, Paulie?" She asked. Paulie blinked.

"Eh? Oh! Jes' some kid lookin' for the Fight Club and…" he trailed off, and looked at Nagi apologetically. "Sorry kiddo. I forgot ta ask why yer here!" Nagi shrugged, still kind of in a daze from the display, and spoke back.

"I'm looking for Trodaire." He said.

"And if you'd just turn around, you'll find him." Came another voice. Nagi turned to the source, and there he was.

Trodaire didn't look like what he expected. He had expected a meathead, someone whose muscles bulged like a Machamp. This guy was kind of wiry, built more like a runner than a power lifter. He was wearing a black hoodie and sweatpants. His complexion was pretty dark, and Nagi felt relief that not everyone in this city was whiter than snow. But it was the hair and tribal tattoos that caught his attention. Judging from the ornate display that criss-crossed the side of his face, it was clear that he was Orrean. And his hair had been shaved into a short Mohawk. He looked positively terrifying, the way his stone-cold eyes were eying Nagi up like a predator stalking its prey.

At least, he was until the mystique was shattered by a groan in the background.

"Ugh. Trodaire, I asked you to get a hair cut, not a Mohawk!" The woman hissed, putting a violet sweatshirt over her black tank-top.

Trodaire sweat-dropped.

"Aw, come on Sabrina. It's part of my heritage! People in my tribe cut their hair in all sorts of crazy manners! You'd be surprised how nutty it could get. This is positively tame." He shook his head and looked back at Nagi. "Ignore her. She's always a little amped up after beating the snot out of a wooden dummy."

"I heard that, dust rat!" Sabrina said, but there was a trace of playfulness in her tone like she wasn't really bothered by the line. Trodaire rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, what are you here for?" He asked.

Nagi drew in a slow, calming breath, knowing that Trodaire didn't mean to come off as intimidating. There were some people who just did so no matter what. Sabrina watched him, noting the slight jumpiness and the breath of psychic talent from the boy. Not enough to limit him to being exclusively a Psychic type user, but enough that most Psychic Pokemon would take notice. It felt raw, untrained, probably just an intuitive gift for bending luck his way or knowing when he should back away and not expose his back to a person or Pokemon. Still, it was there, and she could feel at least two Psychics in the balls he carried. Nagi pushed his cap up a little, feeling the Mega Ring bounce against his wrist.

"I'm sorry for my impoliteness, my name's Nagi. A hiker named Calem suggested your place when I met him in Kalos. He said to thank you for teaching Whaler, and that you might be able to help me and my Pokemon get in better shape." Nagi managed not to flinch from the assessing looks he was being given. "We're here at the acting Champion of Kalos' request for a tournament, and none of us are too sure we can put up even a decent show, since we're all so young." Trodaire looked him up and down.

'Kid's jumpier than a Buneary in a Shinx's den. Can't be more than fourteen, but genius knows no age. Still, that level of jumpiness ain't normal.' Trodaire raised an eyebrow, deciding to at least see Nagi's team before he made any decisions.

"Well, let's see them. I can't tell you much if I don't." Nagi felt a little bit of relief, his nerves becoming a bit more plain, even Paulie noticed.

"Eh Kid, Troddie ain't gonna do nothings to yer Pokes that yer don't sign up for! He just needs ta see 'em to decide how to help 'em if he can!" Nagi nodded a little, embarrassment flushing his face at being caught in his nerves. Tierno and Trevor never seemed to, but they could just be being polite and ignoring them for his sake. Shauna wouldn't notice if he took a Timburr's two by four to her head. Serena, well Serena had her own problems, most of them identical to Nagi's but the two of them had rapidly discovered that shared bad experiences did not equal helpful. Nagi carefully eyed the room for the largest clear space, then released his Pokemon.

"Phox?" The first questioner was bipedal, her face and fur coloring similar to a Ninetails only more yellowish and with large reddish tufts coming out of her ears. Her arms were covered in reddish fur like sleeves, with black hands coming out of them. In one of them she grasped a stick, the tip of it blazing but never being consumed. Her chest fur was yellow with a streak of white across her stomach, and her hip and leg fur was reddish with orangish markings, bushed out in a way that resembled a kimono or robe, ending at her black paws. She eyed Trodaire with an assessing look before craning her head around to see what was going on in her environment. "Delphox?"

"Goo?" The next party member Trodaire could look into her eyes and almost see the back of her skull. She was obviously not the brightest Pokemon in existence, but she practically radiated a 'HI! Let's be friends!' vibe. She was white with a purple underbelly and some green spots, a bipedal again creature with curving horns as well as two little stubs on her forehead. She frowned, clearly not liking the drier environment she found herself in, little drips of goo plopping on the floor. Nagi made an apologetic face, mentally planning on cleaning up after her. "Goodra?" The Pokemon whined, looking anxious on spotting Trodaire.

"Ty?" The grunt made Trodaire look up. Whereas the first two were about human sized, the third member dwarfed the other five. Large, bipedal with rocky brown skin and strong back legs and tail, push ups would clearly be this Pokemon's bane given the huge jaw and the teeny tiny forearms it sported. It had a grey and white underbelly, some yellow scales distributed across its body and framing its eyes, and a huge ruff of white spikes around its neck. Trodaire wasn't even sure if it was a male or a female of its species, just that it was big, and eyeing him with a disdainful look. "Tyrantrum?" Trodaire as well as Sabrina and Paulie hoped that the name was not indicative of the species nature, but given the look it was giving it probably was.

"Sylveon." At least until the fourth member spoke and it cowered. Here Trodaire felt at least on somewhat familiar ground since the speaker was an Eeveelution plain as day, but not one he'd ever seen before. Light pink body with a darker pink back, tail, and boots, the Pokemon also had feelers in the shape of bows with ribbons that had some blue at their tips at his left ear and at his neck. The insides of his ears were blue as well, and most people would look at him and assume that he either belonged to a girl or a gay man, was Normal type, and was weaker than all get out. The large blue eyes gave lie to some of that theory, confident and with a 'please underestimate me, I will enjoy handing your pride to you when I'm done stomping on it' look to them. Trodaire wasn't too sure the Pokemon was Normal type either. Maybe Flying or Ground, unless it was a type no one had seen before. Strong though, if he could cow a Pokemon several times his size. The young Eeveelution yawned in a skull cracking way and flopped on the floor, clearly not interested in expending excess energy.

A chirp turned Trodaire to the last two of the lot. Gardevoir was a familiar species amongst the chaos of new ones, though it was clear this one would probably have been a Gallade but for her gender. She was as sturdily built as her kind's frame would allow, and the look on her face suggested she was far more content with trying to hit things than with blasting them with Psychic power. She wore an odd stone caged in a filigree ball on a slender chain around her neck, and was playing with the crest feathers of the final Pokemon. A large, cranky looking bird shifted from taloned foot to foot. It was primarily red and gray, with black tips on its wings and gold stripes through its black tail. It clicked its black beak and chirped again, hopping forward to look at Trodaire and Paulie to see if they were interesting. Nagi sighed, looking at them all.

"I'm sorry, I'll clean up after them, I forgot Google tends to leave a mess behind her." The dense looking one smiled at the name. "This is Amber, a Delphox. Google is a Goodra, Tempest there is a Tyrantrum, Izanagi is the Sylveon down there, he's also the only guy. Garden is the Gardevoir, and Robina is the Talonflame over there. Like I said, we're all fairly young and while we're good, we all know we could be better." He reached out to pet Izanagi to calm himself. "Um, do you need to know their typings?"

"That would be helpful, yes." Trodaire said with a small smile. Nagi knew that the guy was teasing him slightly, but didn't let that rattle him. So, clearing his throat, the young Kalos native began.

"Well, Amber is a dual Fire/Psychic type." He began. He noticed that Sabrina took interest in that, and Nagi ventured a guess that she was a Psychic trainer herself. "Tempest is dual Dragon-Rock." The large beast grumbled in agreement, and once again Trodaire prayed that its name was not indicative of its nature. Nagi walked over to the slightly amorphous Goodra. "Google here is a Dragon." At this, Nagi noticed Trodaire's eyes widen.

"No shit, that's a Dragon?" He asked. Nagi narrowed his eyes, slightly offended.

"Why, doesn't she look like one?" He asked. Trodaire walked up to the creature and stared it straight in the eye.

"No, no, she does. It's just…she looks so huggable." Trodaire finished lamely. Without turning around, he addressed the snickering coming from Paulie. "Say a word and I'm knocking your old face in, Paulie."

Google seemed pretty pleased at Trodaire's compliment, and let out a happy "Gooo!" Deciding to move on, Nagi pointed to the serious-looking bird. "Robina is a dual Fire-Flying type." Trodaire nodded.

"She's got the hot-headed look of a Fire type. And I know that Gardevoir is Psychic, right?" He said. Nagi shrugged.

"Sort of." He said. Trodaire raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, 'sort of?'" He asked. Nagi sighed.

"That's what I was getting to Izanagi for." Nagi said. "He's a Fairy type, and Gardevoir is part-Fairy."

There was a pause. Trodaire shrugged helplessly.

"Sorry, I've never heard of them before." He said.

"I have." Sabrina said. Everyone turned towards her. "Though admittedly, I thought that they were just a legend from a really long time ago." Nagi felt his chest puff out with pride.

"Well, they're not, and they are the secret that Kalos has been keeping for a very long time." He said.

Well, one of the secrets, anyway.

"Fair enough." Trodaire said. "I, uh, don't really know the type match-ups that Fairies go against…but frankly, that sort of thing doesn't matter here." He said. Nagi raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" He asked. Trodaire smiled.

"Did you watch the last World Tournament?" He asked. Nagi nodded.

"Well, sort of. The TV reception was really bad, so my mom and I were listening to it on the radio." Nagi smiled. "Chip Skarmory nearly had a heart attack on the air, it sounded like."

"Precisely. Because Steven Stone beat Lance when type match-ups weren't necessarily in his favor." Trodaire said. "And I trained him how to win like that." He gestured to the gym around them. "I'm not a champion, Nagi. Hell, I don't even have a Pokemon of my own. But I train champions. And trust me, by the time we're done here your team is going to be eating lightning and crapping thunder."

"Why do you keep using that line?" Sabrina moaned.

"It's a great movie, shut up." Trodaire said without turning around. "But that begs the question: what is your real goal?"

"Sorry?" Nagi asked.

"Your goal. Nobody comes in here just 'looking to get strong.' Naw, you have a purpose to being here. You have to. You might not know it yet, but you'll realize it while we're at it, and before long you'll be able to tell me in a single sentence why it is that you're in my gym." He smiled, and cracked his knuckles. "For now, we're gonna settle with the first thing that I do to every trainer's team that comes into my gym…conditioning." Nagi noticed Sabrina and Paulie shudder at this.

"What does that comprise, exactly?" Nagi asked. Trodaire's grin was positively devious.

"Oh, you'll see." He said. He brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply. "Boys! Got some work for you to do!"

There was a commotion in the back, and before long a few Pokemon had come rumbling out of the back weight room. Nagi recognized them from pictures. A Sawk, a Throh, and a Machamp?

Uh oh.

"Nagi, these here are three Pokemon whom I've become acquainted with courtesy of their master. That would be Kanto Elite Four member Bruno, by the way. They aren't my Pokemon, but they are my assistants. And they are going to be judging your team." He said.

"In what regard?" Nagi asked. Trodaire smiled wider, if that were possible.

"I'm getting to that." He turned to the six Pokemon before him.

"Listen and listen good." He began. "Here at the Fight Club, we do things a little bit differently than anything you've ever done before. There isn't any light sparring or silly practicing of moves against a willing partner that you might see in other League-sanctioned gyms. My gym is hardcore, and as such the things that I will put you through are decidedly hardcore. Let me make myself clear: you will hate it. You might even hate me. At first. Because if you stick to this program that I am putting together for you, I promise to you on my soul as an Orrean that you will be the baddest group of fighters the world has ever seen. You will be dominant. You will be powerful. You will be legendary. And above all, you will be brothers and sisters forged in the fires of training from hell. Because make no mistake: this is hell, and I am Giratina the devil." He looked at them and let the speech sink in. "That being said, I am not heartless. I will not put you through this today. You just got into Kanto, for Arceus' sake. Go to a hotel or anywhere that you are staying. Get some rest. Eat well. Prepare your bodies and minds. Because tomorrow is when it all begins. It will not be easy. I want you to be ready." He turned to Nagi. "You can return them to your Poke Balls, Nagi. That's all for today."

There was a series of flashes, and before long it was just the four humans standing in the gym again. Sabrina cleared her throat.

"There are some good places to stay a few blocks down the road. I'm headed home now, but it's not out of the way and I can show you. Would you like to come?" She asked. Nagi nodded.

"Um, sure. That would be great." He said. The two of them left, but not before Sabrina turned back and gave Trodaire a small wink.

Great speech, Tiger.

He smiled a little, and let his thoughts become readable.

Eh, I've done better. But thanks.

She smiled, and before you knew it they were gone.

Paulie and Trodaire watched the doorway in silence for a few moments. Then Paulie found his voice.

"Fairies? What kinda stuff is they alls about?" He asked. Trodaire shook his head.

"I don't know, Paulie." He was pensive. "But whatever it is, I know that this is going to be big."

"Maybe you should ask dat one frienda yers, Arach?" Paulie asked. Trodaire shrugged.

"He's vacationing with his family. I'm not going to disturb him until he gets back in a few days." He said. He turned to Paulie. "Alright, let's lock up for the night." Paulie nodded, and got to work turning off the lights. Trodaire continued thinking.

He'd lied, after all. He had heard of Fairies.

Well, not Fairy Pokemon, per say, but fairies from the old pulpy myth book he'd read in Orre.

They weren't pretty and sweet and benevolent in those stories.

They were devious and sly and possessed a cruel side when provoked.

And they murdered dragons.

Trodaire saw that Sylveon's bored expression hidden behind two cold blue eyes, and he shuddered. He also saw that kid again in his head, with that reserved nature and melancholy eyes.

Who was this kid?

And more importantly, what had he seen?

Sabrina also found herself wondering what Nagi had seen. The boy was polite, but evasive about many things. Why the acting Champion of Kalos would send a fourteen year old in her place. Why she was an 'acting' Champion. His mother also seemed to be a touchy subject, though in a more rueful way. It was clear Nagi resented the acting Champion, an actress named Diantha. All she'd managed to get there was a dodging 'She doesn't fulfill her obligations very well.' Yet the same could be said of Alder when he was Champion of Unova, and Nagi appeared to find at least him amusing. Nagi also seemed closed mouthed about his training journey, only murmuring that it hadn't been quite what he expected. They parted ways at the hotel she suggested, and Sabrina returned to her home. When she got there, Alakazam had his head turned in the direction of the hotel she'd left Nagi in, a pensive expression on his face.

"That child bears burdens he is far too young for. What they are is obscured, but they are his to bear until Creation itself takes them from him. He is right to be scared." Sabrina raised an eyebrow. What could obscure something from Alakazam's sight? Very, very few things, all of them old and powerful.

"Be that as it may, he's here and he wants Trodaire to help him train. That's something Trodaire can deal with." Alakazam let out a huffing sigh.

"As you say. Let us hope what laid those burdens on him does not come looking to lay more."

Nagi sighed, looking at the clock. Two in the morning, but the reminders of route ten wouldn't let him sleep. He tapped Amber's ball, letting her out. After a few stretches, she turned to him, establishing a link with those still in their balls so that Nagi could feel them as well.

"We… do we really want to do this? It'll be hard, and there'll be parts of it that won't be fun at all." A wry smile twisted his lips. "Not that we haven't done hard before, or run straight into hell not knowing what we were doing." Amber let a soothing noise, and Izanagi mentally snorted in agreement.

"Giratina the devil? Better the devil than either being we've already run into." He remembered the low challenging bellow of the great stag, dark eyes with x's impossibly within them, the high pitch hunting scream of the wyvern, wings and tail spread as it sought to return all to dust. Lysandre's howled curses as the ruins collapsed. AZ's sorrow, so enduring whether or not the man truly was what he and Lysandre claimed him to be.

Charm's battered and still form.

He drew in a breath, stopping the memories before they overwhelmed him. That was the past that could no longer be changed, this was the present and nowhere near where he and they had all lost so much.

"So, do we walk away and embarrass ourselves? Or do we give the devil his due?" Tempest bellowed in his mind, the great roar of a beast that had roamed when the Legends were still carving the lands into its forms. She did not know what backing down was, and Garden was in a sense egging her on, a rill of desire to be better in her mind. Robina's thoughts were chirps, inquisitive ones that told him she was at least willing to give it a go. Izanagi's thoughts were bland and bored, he'd go along with whatever Nagi wanted as long as he didn't think it was too stupid. Or something Steel showed up and he had to climb a wall to get away from it. That was likely to happen come to think of it, if Steven Stone trained there. Google felt anxious, but she liked Trodaire, he hadn't thought she was stupid looking and not-a-Dragon so she'd try her best. Though she would no doubt whine through parts of it. Nagi looked at Amber, the oldest of his team, remembering when he'd held her as a Fennekin.

"Well, sweet sister? If you don't desire to, we won't." Nagi waited for her response.

Amber stared into the flames on the tip of her stick, eyes unfocused. She brushed her fur into its most proper position, and put the stick away, the flames dying as she did so. Her thoughts were a warm blaze. Images of Trodaire, of the gym, of the sense that this was a place they could learn and grow. Notations of Sabrina, of Paulie, of the fact that though he had no Pokemon to call his own there was the sense that there were ones who would die to protect Trodaire as they would their master. Curiosity, what could the Orrean teach them?

And after a long mental silence, the sense that if Giratina itself could teach them to be better, to not fail those depending on them, well then the devil would get its due one way or the other. Nagi smiled, slipping a Poke Puff out of his bag and handing it to Amber.

"Then I'd best try to get some sleep. We've a busy, busy day tomorrow."