A/N: This is the second installment of Wings of Flame. If you are a new reader to this series, then I strongly suggest that you go read the first one; that is, the one simply called "Wings of Flame." If you don't and decide to read this story first, then you won't understand why anything is happening, and that can be frustrating. To all my returning readers: Welcome! I hope you enjoy this story as much as you liked the last one (assuming you did, in fact, like the last one).

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Wings of Flame: Fire Island

Chapter 1: Cinnibar

We have been traveling for many months. I have never traveled this long before. We have passed through many cities, though only out of necessity. We avoid the cities as much as possible. We train; always, we train. Not a day goes by that we do not train. We must grow stronger, for what is ahead.

I watch her. She has changed much I first met her. She rarely ever smiles anymore. She used to smile all the time, but things were different then. Abadon was still alive then. Since his death, she has become more quiet and recluse. She blames Turner for what happened, and rightly so, but he is dead now too, so there is no one to extract revenge upon. Instead, we travel, and as we travel, we train. She has come up with a number of ingenious tactics for battle. She will not let what happened before, happen again.

With the scyther, there is not much to teach. He is old and past his prime, not able to do too many strenuous activities for too long. But he can control the plants, so he is good for long distance fighting, and his scythes are sharp. If this were a century or two ago, he might have taken the lead as we traveled, to cut a path through the forest for the rest or us, but there are not enough plants around now to be much of a burden.

I believe that I have improved greatly in strategy. When I was by myself I only had my anger. That aided in my strength and agility, but I was foolish in the way I attacked. Now my eye is sharper and I am able to spot an opponent's next move almost before they are aware of it themselves. I know how to taunt an enemy and make them frustrated, causing them to falter and become hasty, eventually bringing about their own downfall. I am much stronger.

It is the mew who has made the most progress, however. It was the scyther that originally gave her the idea. The mew was able to teleport as long as the scyther had a firm image in his mind. In other words, the scyther had to be the eyes for the mew. She took this to a new level. She trained the mew to see through her eyes. The child can battle now, though I imagine the sensation was strange at first: moving based on another's point of view. I have no wish to experience it, anyway.

She has also become quite adept at healing. When we go into a city for supplies, we get healing potions and the like, but also medicine for which most would simply go to a 'Center in order to acquire. The reason for this is that we no longer visit any 'Center, regardless of the wounds. She had had no luck with such places in the past, and now they only drag up unwanted memories. She says no good can come from them.

Currently, we are in the midst of another city, though not as large as most. The reason for this is probably because this town is on an island, and it is more difficult for industrial growth to occur here. There are quite a few farms, however, which is surprising. But I am told that the soil around a volcano is fertile, so that is the most likely explanation. She seems to know where she is going. She is walking on the sidewalk down a street that is filled with houses and apartments. There is no lawn between them. I follow from the shadows, and the scyther flies overhead with the mew, who makes them both invisible. She tried to explain this to me once. Something about refracting the light around himself and then having it meet up again on the other side. I don't care to understand the ways of light, only darkness. She has the milotic in a 'ball in her pack. We never allow ourselves to be seen in cities anymore. It might draw attention.

She still carries the staff weapon and her backpack. Inside the backpack is…what is left of the Char. She carries it with her in remembrance. She says it could help her cause when she gets to the volcano.

I now drop down from the rooftops and alleyways closer to her. She has stopped at one of the residence buildings and is standing at the entryway, unmoving. I wait, for I am patient. Finally, she reaches out with her right hand and knocks at the door. There is movement from inside and eventually the door opens to a rather gruff man. He stands still, as if frozen.

"The hell are you doing here?" the man said.

"Hello, dad," replied Erin. "Nice to see you too."

"I got a call that you got kicked out of the Academy. That was stupid of you. And it was a long time ago. You come here needing money? 'Cause I'm not giving you any."

"No, dad, I'm not here for money. I get by just fine."

"Then why are you here?" he asked.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by, see how you're doing. We hadn't seen each other in a while, so I thought maybe we'd catch up. We are family, ya' know."

"Yeah, but you got kicked out of the Academy! Do you know how much money it costs to send someone to one of those schools? Then you go and just throw it all away! If your mother was alive to see this-"

Erin abruptly pushed past the man into his home, interrupting him mid-sentence. "Mom's not dead, dad, she just left you. Get over it." She went and sat down on the couch in a huff, hugging her backpack in her lap. Chasm watched the meeting from a window ledge outside and could make out most of what was being said. She clung to the shadows and became practically invisible to anyone who wasn't looking for her.

Erin had told the others that she would be visiting her father before they continued their journey, with the hopes that they wouldn't rip each other's throats out and could behave decently. Maybe they could even repair their relationship.

The man stood in the middle of the carpet in front of the couch, scratching his head while he tried to think. "Where have you been, Erin? No one's heard from you in almost a year."

"I didn't know you cared," came Erin's sarcastic reply.

"Just answer the dang question."

"Around. I've been traveling," she added when she saw him getting frustrated again. "There wasn't anything else for me to do, and I didn't think you cared if you heard from me or not."

Erin's dad sat down in a nearby chair before continuing his enquiry. "How'd you survive? You need money for food and if you were traveling then you didn't have a job. You didn't steal did you?" he said, raising his voice. "'Cause I won't have a thief for a daughter!"

"No, dad," said Erin, calm as ever. "I never stole anything." Suddenly, something clicked in her head. There had been something nagging her since she arrived, but only now realized what it was. Erin sniffed the air. She didn't smell any alcohol. She would ask him about it later, but now probably wasn't the best time. "I paid for all my food." She knew where this conversation would lead, but he would have to know sooner or later. Her and her pokemon had slept outside enough and she wanted them to relax indoors for a while.

"Where'd you get the money, then?" Erin's dad asked her, glaring her down, daring her to defy him.

"I won it during battles," was her reply.

Her dad grunted and looked away. "You still doing that fighting crap? I thought you gave that up ages ago. I didn't know you could actually get money by doing that."

Erin paused a beat, hesitating, but not long enough to let it show in her face. Technically, she had fought people a few times to get some extra cash, so it wouldn't be lying. Maybe she could wait a bit longer before suddenly letting her dad know that she was actually one of the best pokemon trainers she had seen, and had only been training for less than a year. "Yes, I'm still doing it, and yes, you can get money for doing it, if you know where to look."

Erin, who only entered her pokemon in battles where there was discretion so as not to attract any unwanted attention (she didn't care from who; she didn't want any extra attention at all), liked it even less when she went into battle herself. She was so skilled that no one was a match for her, and that definitely brought about attention, but she needed money to survive. It amazed her sometimes how little skill some of the people she fought actually had. Not only did she attend the martial arts classes at her Academy, but she had also been trained by Turner, and then there was that dojo she stayed at for a while…

"What do you mean, 'If you know where to look'?" said Erin's dad, breaking her train of thought with another glare. "You weren't involved in anything illegal, were you?"

"Gods, dad," was Erin's reply as she hugged her backpack closer. "What is this, and interrogation? Why do you keep asking me all these questions?"

Her dad stood up out of his chair and looked down at her. "No one suddenly shows up after being missing for eleven months and doesn't expect to be questioned!" he hollered.

"And I told you!" Erin yelled back, setting her pack carefully down on the couch despite quickly standing up to challenge the man before her. "I was traveling! I'm not dead, I didn't do drugs, I didn't have sex, and I didn't kill anybody! Is that enough for you!" But I did watch people die, thought Erin. I watched him die right in front of my eyes. The bastard deserved to die that way, but not Abadon. He didn't deserve to die at all.

Her father saw the rage in her eyes and couldn't hold her stare. "How long will you be staying?" he asked as he looked away.

Erin's temper cooled and she shrugged, suddenly finding the carpet incredibly interesting. "I don't know. Maybe a day or two, if that's okay." Her dad shrugged in reply. They didn't seem to be getting off to a very good start.

Her dad looked out the window and his eye caught a sudden movement of the shadow that didn't seem quite natural. "What was that?" he asked himself, walking over to look out. "If it's those neighborhood kids again-"

"Dad, are you proud of me?" Erin asked, suddenly changing the subject.

Her dad turned sharply and stared at her oddly for a few seconds. "Why are you asking this now?

"Just tell me," prodded Erin. "Are you proud of me?"

He hesitated and motioned with his hand, as if searching for the right words. "Erin, you were kicked out of the Academy…"

"So if I had stayed and gotten a pokemon, then you'd be proud of me?" There was no emotion in her tone.

"Yes," her father answered, his voice almost a whisper. This time he held her piercing gaze. "Then I'd be proud of you."

Erin looked away first. "I thought so." She sat down again, the back of the couch facing away from the window and the man who stood before it. "Did you know that wild pokemon still exist?" she asked, changing the subject again.

"If there are any wild pokemon still alive, they stay well away from humans."

Unless they want to kill humans, she thought, which almost brought a smile to her face. And unless said killing-prone pokemon leads you to its home, where more human-hating pokemon live. There, a pokemon biologist would be happy for the rest of his life which, if the pokemon that would undoubtedly have surrounded him within the first two seconds have anything to say about it, would be rather short.

"I've seen some." When her father didn't reply (out of shock or out of disbelief, Erin didn't know), she continued. "I've seen a number of them." She stood once more and walked forward, in the direction of the kitchen, without looking back. "Though, they really only live in the most remote parts of the world now. I had to walk for days before I found a city, after I left that clearing with the old house…" This last part was said mostly to herself in a whisper, with eyes and a smirk that were remembering better days.

"What's that?" called her dad.

"Nothing." She turned and looked at him from across the room. "What if I had a pokemon anyway? What if, even though the Academy never gave me one, I got a pokemon some other way?"

"What, by stealing it?"

"Godsdammit Dad! Will you listen to me for five seconds without spitting out some sort of accusation!" Erin screamed, fed up with so much and not able to take more. She was shaking with rage and her fists were clenching and unclenching at her sides. "I told you I saw wild pokemon! Why wasn't your first thought that one of them decided to travel with me? Why did you automatically think that I had done something illegal? You always think the worst of me, no matter what I do! I don't know why I even bother!"

"Neither do I," came her dad's gruff reply. "If people saw wild pokemon everyday, then it would be in the news, like that war that ended a while back. Now you're making up stories about catching wild pokemon? You don't have any pokemon to fight the wild ones to capture them in the first place!"

A darkness appeared on the wall behind Erin's dad. Erin saw it in her peripheral vision but didn't look down. As Chasm stepped through and alighted onto the floor next to him, the portal closed. Only dark pokemon could create such portals between space, and they were also the only creatures able to withstand the environment within. Other creatures never came out.

"I never said I caught one," Erin said, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets.

Chasm took this moment to let herself be known to the other human in the room and strutted into his line of sight. He flinched drastically in surprise, nearly falling over himself in his quick retreat.

After his mild cry of fear, Erin's dad looked from the umbreon to Erin and back again, the meaning of his daughter's last statement finally setting in. "This…this is your pokemon?" he asked tentatively.

"Brilliant deduction," answered Chasm, not liking this brusque human in the least. Unfortunately, he had not taken any Pokemon Speech classes, and thus could not understand Chasm's witty banter. His loss.

Erin's dad, for the first time since her arrival, was speechless. His mouth opened and closed a few times, no words coming out. Erin, however, did not gloat at this, but instead stood where she was, her face void of emotion. She turned and opened one of the cabinets, taking out a bowl of spicy noodles and filled a pot with water to heat up so she could cook them. Chasm joined Erin in the kitchen, slightly bending the shadows as she walked past them for further mysterious affect. First impressions are everything, after all.

When her lunch was ready, Erin returned to the living room of her dad's apartment and sat down at the table, opposite from her father. He hadn't yet said a word, and was now glaring at her, one hand over his mouth in thought. Erin blew on the noodles to cool them down and took her first bite.

"You think you're somethin' special, don't you?" her dad finally said, his voice slightly muffled by his hand, which he hadn't bothered to move.

Erin swallowed her food. "What do you mean?"

"Don't be smart with me," he continued, straightening up and pointing at her. "You said you were traveling. You went out of your way to travel down here just so you could gloat about tricking some stupid pokemon into following you here. Well, I'm not falling for it. When you finish your food, I want you to leave, and I don't want you to come back."

Chasm hissed in his direction, the fur along her spine standing on end. Erin's expression still did not change, and she had continued to eat while her dad spoke. Now she put her fork down and glowered at him. "What would be the point of stooping that low?" she asked, her eyes darkening. "I've done nothing to deserve your treatment."

"Then leave! If you hate it here so much, why do you stay?"

Erin stood, her soup finished by now, put on her backpack and walked out of the house. With one final hurt glance backward she shut the door and swiftly strode off the way she had come, not waiting for her dad to get in one last insult. She hadn't waited for Chasm to follow, but she knew the umbreon would be waiting for her at her hotel room. Erin smirked to herself, but not out of humor. She had checked into a hotel before she went to visit her dad, knowing that she wouldn't be able to stay there, despite her hope that this time might be different. That was the meeting spot, and Chasm would simply make another hole in space, walk through, and appear in her room. Chasm believed in dramatic exits as well as entrances. Erin knew she would enjoy it.

When she was a few blocks away and her father's house was out of sight, Erin finally slowed her gait. She sighed and looked at the sky, letting her feet take over. Erin had walked these streets so many times as a child, she didn't need to pay attention to where she was going and she'd still get there. Despite her time away and the change due to construction, there was still something about how the street felt under her shoes that always stayed the same. The air was thicker here too, because of the volcano. But Erin was born in Cinnibar; heat was in her blood.

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She lay on her side, facing the wall, for some time. She didn't speak to us, and we had learned not to speak to her when she was in such moods. Her mind was so focused on her thoughts that nothing else got through. The first time, we were frightened for her health and the mew intervened. But she became angry, frustrated that her train of thought had been severed, and told us not to worry about her.

It became my understanding that at times such as these she is doing a special kind of thinking that must be handled carefully, or risk loosing everything up until that point. Almost like carrying a bowl of water that is slightly too full, but not being allowed to spill a single drop. And, if the bowl did happen to overflow, then being forced to start again from the beginning.

She did not want her concentration broken, and I was able to accept that, being of a contemplative nature myself. It worried the others more, but I was able to understand it. When she finally released herself of her trance, she began to stretch. This, too, had become a ritual, though one she performed almost daily. She stretched her arms, her legs, her neck, her stomach, and continued to limber up every part of her body, making sure that there would be no cramps or further complications for what was to come.

And, of course, I knew what was to come.

"I need to clear my head."

She rose, as I knew she would, and opened up her pack to prepare. Her staff, retracted, was resting on the nightstand. She would use that, as well as the long gloves she was putting on over her dark green shirt, and her dusty black pants that were stuffed into her sturdy boots. Wearing green, along with black, to blend into the shadows: that was another trick she learned at the dojo.

I think back on that now, as a happy time. Much of what this group has done over the past year has been done out of necessity, not pleasure. But searching for the dojo, that was her choice, and I believe she enjoyed her time there.

She searched for it in the first place in order to assure that she would be better equipped to keep her promise. Normally, they wouldn't have taken in an outsider. They only train those who have begun their training there at birth, they said. But once they saw how much knowledge of the martial arts she already possessed, they made an exception.

She already knew many advanced forms of fighting and was adept at using her enemy's strengths against them. She could stay out of her opponent's reach and could strike with surprising intensity. But here she learned the art of stealth. The humans here taught her how to blend in with the shadows, how to handle herself so that she could walk within a crowd virtually unnoticed, and how to move in complete silence.

I don't blend with the shadows; I become the shadows and bend them around me. I am unable to walk unnoticed within a crowd because I am not human. I move in complete silence, but she would not have been able to learn my way. It was good for her to have found this place and to have learned from them what she could. I gave her hints and helped her along when I could but, like the others, I mostly stayed out of sight.

The long gloves, a dark brown with black stitching, simply became a habit. The Master at the dojo wore them so that his swallow could rest on his forearm, and the others merely adopted the style as their own.

The dark green dress confused me for a time (being a dark type, I can fold the shadows to cover me and have no need for further camouflage). But shadows are not purely black, as most humans believe they are. Wearing only black to hide would make the shadows appear too deep and might cause someone to look a bit closer. But the dark green merely floats within the shadows, blends in, and the eye wanders on. It falls under the same logic of a growlithe, with an orange coat and black stripes, being able to hide in the tall green grass and rough foliage of a field. It shouldn't make sense, but it does.

After donning the proper attire, the process of which was helpful in its own way to get her in the proper state of mind, she crawled out through the window.

Quietly, and with great skill, Erin stalked through the neighborhood that she had once considered home. The sun was setting and dusk was approaching, a sure sign that the scum of the human race would be making their way out from their holes into the open air to perform mischief. Erin would deal with the small-time criminals in her own way. Many, if they cared, would call her a vigilante, but the only reason Erin did what she did in the first place was as a form of meditation. Strange as it may seem, the swift movements and almost ghostlike pattern of Erin's self-crafted style of fighting in the approaching darkness cleared her head. The fact that she was releasing the city of a few delinquents in the process was merely an afterthought.

Chasm joined Erin on such excursions as these. After all, it was, in essence, what Chasm had been doing when Erin first met her. Only Erin never killed her targets.

Usually Erin never had to wait long before a potential target was spotted. When forced to stay in larger cities out of sheer necessity, Erin and her group would find a spot near the Old City. A person could find trouble there at any time of the day, but Erin gathered some form of pleasure in the escalating gloom that, no doubt, Chasm also shared. It was relaxing.

She didn't have to search long this night either. Holding the retracted Bo staff in one hand, she slid in and out of the shadows – always invisible to anyone who wasn't specifically looking for her – Erin nimbly made her way across the city. She spotted a suspicious looking teenager, most likely no older than herself, trying his best to make his way through the alleys as silent as he could… and failing horribly. A deaf weedle could have heard him from a mile away. So, Erin followed him.

But then something else suspicious occurred. This kid was joined by another, and a few alleyways later, yet another person. None of them talked except to say 'hi' and then continued on after. Then, Erin still watching unobserved, her small group met up in a sort of meeting spot with six others. It was some sort of gang or club. The big strong guy who was poking people in the chest and giving orders must be the one in charge.

Chasm slinked up beside her. When she first began doing this sort of thing, Erin relied on Chasm's sharp hearing to find out what her targets were saying when she was any great distance from them. Erin stopped asking when she realized they never said anything important.

Erin maneuvered herself so that she would be able to see the whole gang as well as the alley opening between the two buildings. Whatever they were planning, they would either have to leave or bring something in, and the most likely way was through that opening. Erin was now close enough to hear their individual breathing, though not one of them had noticed her. She smiled. It was actually a genuine smile. Even if nothing else came of this night, she always enjoyed being stealthy.

The gang suddenly quieted. Erin focused. Something was about to happen, and that's when Erin would strike. She only attacked people when she caught them in the midst of some criminal activity. Or if they were attacking her, of course.

A man shuffled past the alleyway carrying a bag. He had probably been to the grocery store and was now returning home. Stupid; he should know better than to walk alone at this time of night in any neighborhood without protection.

"Excuse me, sir," said one of the gang members. He was smaller than the leader, but held himself with confidence. More than likely he was the second or third in command. "Could you spare some change? My mom's sick, see, and can't work, so my little sister's going hungry-"

"I don't give money to deadbeats," the man said, cutting off the gang member's obvious string of lies. He tried to push past him and continue on, but the gangster wouldn't allow it.

"Whoa there, mister, that wasn't very nice." His friends sitting in the alley took this moment to stand up and circle around the man, snickering and mumbling among themselves.

"Yeah," said the leader. "My friend here needs some help, and the courteous thing to do would be to give him money, but since you won't, then I guess we'll just have to take it from you to ensure that his sister gets something to eat tonight, won't we boys?" The rest of the gang laughed some more, and the man dropped his bag and tried to back away from his attackers, but there was nowhere to run to.

"Please, don't hurt me. Here," he said, his voice cracking, "take my money. It's not much, but you can have it all. I don't care, really." He accidentally knocked over his bag and a can rolled away, but that was not his greatest concern at the moment.

"That's real kind of you, sir," the leader said, stepping forward, "but now it's not enough."

He took another step and Erin moved. The entire gang was now in the street, completely encircling the poor guy in the middle. Erin dashed forward, light and silent over the rough stones on the ground. The leader raised his fist to strike and she darted through two of the delinquents and became nothing but a silhouette against the night sky as she jumped into the air toward him. The only sound that was heard from her at all was the shink of her Bo staff as it elongated to its full length. Then there was a crack and a thud, and before anyone could move, the large tyrant lay on the ground, unconscious.

The crowd fell silent and Erin took a defensive stance with her staff before her, eyes darting every which way, knowing what would come next. She turned to look behind the man she was protecting to make sure none of those gang members would be the first to realize what had happened and attack her. But Erin's eyes performed a double-take, seemingly without her consent, because it took her a second longer to comprehend what she was actually seeing.

"Dad?" she asked. But she had no time to listen to his reply, if he even made one. As one, the gang moved forward, now over their surprise that a girl had taken down their boss so easily. There were many more of them than her, and so what if she had a weapon? So did they.

One of them, probably a newer member wishing to prove himself, came at her with a wooden stick. The pointy end of a few nails were sticking out the top, and would cause a great deal of harm to anyone they came in contact with. That is, if they came in contact with anyone. With a swift jab of her staff, the stick was knocked from the guy's hand and he was left defenseless. Not that he had defended himself all that well even with the weapon. Erin swung the staff and he dropped like a light.

Another came at Erin from her right and slightly behind. She subtly twisted and brought her right fist up into his jaw.

"Another point for our team," came the innocent psychic voice of Nero within her mind.

"Where are you?" questioned Erin as she KO'ed another. She hadn't felt his presence inside her mind until that point, so she knew that he couldn't have been watching the fight through her eyes. He would have to be somewhere where he could 'see' it for himself.

"Above you."

Erin didn't need to question further. She knew he would be invisible and she knew he would stay there until she told him otherwise. She pictured him zipping around overhead, mentally laughing her opponents' futile effort. Erin focused on the task at hand, which didn't really need her full attention, now that she thought about it. These guys – no, wait, there was a girl there too – fine, these guys and a girl weren't worth much of her time. She had fought with a crazed madman, a horde of actual ninjas at a dojo in the middle of nowhere, and a pokemon, when her group had stumbled upon a nest of wild breloom when they traveled too close to a swamp. After all that, these punks were practice.

She punched the last one in the sternum, knocking the wind from his lungs. He limped away with the rest of his crew, not counting the few that were unconscious. They, obviously, stayed where they were.

Erin turned back to the man, her father (sometimes she hated irony), for some quality awkward silence on both sides. "Are you alright?" she finally said, breaking the silence.

"Yes." He said nothing further, but simply gave Erin an odd look that she didn't know what to do with.

"You should know better than to be out by yourself in this neighborhood after dark." Erin spotted the can that had earlier rolled away now make its way back into the bag, seemingly by itself. She actually had to suppress a smirk at Nero's small attempt to make her laugh, but she appreciated it.

"How did you do that?" he asked, talking about the fight.

"Easily."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, but I don't know if it merits an answer."

Her dad cringed. "I deserved that."

Erin was surprised; her dad had never apologized for anything for as long as she could remember, and that came darn close to it.

"Listen," he said, obviously fighting himself over something. "I… I wanted to apologize for earlier." Holy crap. She should be recording this. "I was going to try to be nicer but… old habits die hard, I guess. And you surprised me, since I hadn't heard from you in so long."

"I guess so. You gave up drinking?"

"You could tell?" He actually seemed glad at her question. That was new too. Erin tilted her head and looked at him in a confused and emotional way, trying to figure out what was really going on inside her father's head. He seemed to notice this on some subconscious level and said, "I've been going to these classes, these groups, that help people with that sort of thing. My teacher said I was doing really good… I've been trying to get my life back together, Erin, though I know I didn't show it too well this afternoon. After I threw you out I hated myself, because I thought I'd never see you again and that I'd missed my last chance to make things up to you…" He glanced up, saw her crying, and stopped talking.

"Did you really mean that?" Erin asked through her tears. Could they really be a family? A real family; the kind that cares for each other?

Neither had made a move toward the other.

"How did you do all that?" he asked, waving his hand at the destruction that Erin had caused, or what was left of it anyway. This made Erin smile as well. She knew her father well enough to know that his question was an answer in itself. Chasm, who was watching from the shadows a ways off, was glad. Erin's face had not broken into that big a grin in many, many months. The last time was when the Char was still around. The visit at her father's would be a good thing after all.

Erin remembered where they were. "Let's go home and I can tell you about it there." She sheathed her Bo staff and turned in the direction of her house.

"What, it's not a simple enough answer that you can't tell me on the way?" Her dad was trying, but the two of them still had some work to do. He picked up his grocery bag and followed.

"Fine. The simple answer is what I told you before: I trained. The answer you'll be satisfied with will take longer. To explain how I was able to defeat these people so easily I'll have to tell you where I trained, and then you'll want to know what I was doing there, and the people – and pokemon – involved."

"Pokemon?"

"Yes. One in particular, though. I've made a few new friends, too. You already met Chasm; she was the umbreon." Her dad grunted in remembrance. "There's more, but I'll tell you the rest at home."

"You just want to keep me waiting."

"Do you have to be so impatient?"

"Do you have to be so demanding?"

Nero followed behind, giggling to himself. Chasm felt something and glanced up, spotting the scyther on one of the nearby rooftops; a black figure outlined by the full moon. So, they were all here. Well, most of them, she corrected herself. Regardless, Erin's father hadn't gotten his last shock for the day.

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A/N: And didn't I promise you guys another picture? Of course I did. This one's not colored, and my scanner scanned the ink rather blotchy, but I still like it. I may color it later, but we'll have to see. You can find it at www (dot) boomspeed (dot) com (slash) charpal (slash) Erin2 (dot) JPG … Got all that? Great. Like I said, I'll try and remember to do something better at a later date.

I liked this chapter a lot. When I reread looking for typos, I really felt like my writing style has improved, especially since I first started Wings of Flame. I really appreciate any and all reviews that I receive, and don't feel like you shouldn't critique. Also, if updates get to be rather slow, don't worry; I'm still working on it, but I'm starting college next year so I'll probably be busy. But I will see this thing through until the end.

Hope you enjoyed it!