Chapter 8: Burn

Disbelief. All fear faded into the background, belittled.

"Why?" She blurted, incredulous.

"You are in a position to aid the Time Gear investigation."

"But I can't do anything special." Flo elbowed her. She suddenly realized that was an incredibly stupid thing to say.

"You aren't aware? Truly?" Dusknoir paused, as if waiting for confirmation. Ashen just looked at him impatiently, not entirely sure that she wasn't being mocked. "From the vision you described it's clear that you have the Dimensional Scream ability." He paused, searching for some sign of recognition. The vulpix gazed back impassively, glad that her previous fear seemed to have dissipated. "When you touch significant objects, relevant to your path in life, you see visions of the past or future. These can be helpful. I hope that with these we can track down Grovyle's location, or gather more information."

"I'm not leaving without Flo." Now that Ashen's fear had deserted her (quite suddenly and almost disconcertingly) she felt increasingly angry that he had ever been able to inflict any unease on her whatsoever.

"Stop." Flo growled: a command. Dusknoir and Ashen turned to face him in confusion. "You're interfering with Ashen's mind again. I can tell. She let you in when she was surprised."

This was getting ridiculous. She had to be able to prevent this somehow; he wasn't even a psychic type.

"Well," the ghost replied unpleasantly, "you certainly have extensive psychic abilities for a dark type. I've always wondered if that typing was a misclassification, what with the altering of perception and everything. But anyway, if you insist I will withdraw."

There was something removing itself from her head, a quick jerk accompanied by almost-pain, and then fear jarred itself into her consciousness again. She could not prevent herself from flinching away from Dusknoir. It made her so furious, so undeniably and innately wrathful that she should be so irrationally scared. She let the anger overrun the fear and blasted Dusknoir with another fireball.

This time he did not bat it away, it took him unawares. The ghost stumbled backwards slightly, holding his stomach in such a way that betrayed far more pain than his face let on. He was shocked into silence for a few minutes, and then he continued,

"We really can't allow you to remain so… reckless. Fire types are supposed to be level-headed, it's the only way in which they can be in full control of their powers. If you keep losing control like that then you'll waste all of your power at once in a combat situation and you'll attack your allies whenever you're angry with them."

Ashen didn't reply. He had deserved it, but she supposed it was beside the point.

"But anyway, I digress. Flo is accompanying us because the Dimensional Scream ability needs a trusted partner to work."

She trusted Flo..? No. Ashen had to focus now on what mattered, on what was really suspicious about that statement.

"You seem to know a lot about it." The fox's voice was cold. She was made impatient and exhausted by her fear, too tired to be roundabout and polite. "A suspicious amount."

"I knew an acquaintance with it, back home. We talked occasionally. Anyway, am I not famed for my knowledge?" So he was famed for his knowledge. Know thy enemy. "We should be getting on now. Maybe someone in town will know where we can find a fire-type, you need more training before you could even accompany me to any of the dungeons we have leads in."

He led them out of the dingy cell, and although Ashen was suspicious and angry she did not protest further. Her and Flo were getting out, and after so long in that claustrophobic hell-hole simply the feel of the wind or sight of the sky was exciting. It was odd, she supposed she hadn't been there for such a stretch of time, really, but it had seemed like longer than it was. For Flo it had been longer.

They passed Luxray and the magnemite without comment, although Luxray glared at them again. She seemed angrier with Dusknoir than anyone else, though, she noted. And the lion looked like she'd carry a grudge. Hopefully they'd never have the unfortunate experience of revisiting the Treeshroud Forest Detention Centre, and then any resentment would be meaningless.

The light outside hit Ashen like rockfall, hard, uncompromising, and unpleasant. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness quickly and easily, but the light burned her. It was warm, though, and pleasant on the skin. But overall she just felt overwhelmed by all of the stimuli she was suddenly exposed to, and found herself increasingly aware of her improved hearing and sense of smell. In the distance she could scent rotting leaves and moss and tree bark.

Flo. She instantly felt had that she had not thought of him earlier, for if she was like this after less than two days how would Flo be coping? His dark typing could not be helpful. Quickly she turned to him; he was putting up a brave fight against the sun's soft glow, but you could tell that he wanted to cringe down into the ground. Maybe he was determined to not hold the party back.

They walked meanderingly down through the trees, the duo slowly adapting better to the sunlight. There wasn't anything particularly noteworthy until they came to what could only be the entrance of the mystery dungeon; intertwined thick thorns framing an obvious door. Dusknoir walked in without hesitating and they had to trot to catch up to make up for their instinctive hesitation, no time to object.

On the first floor there was a carnivine, lurching towards them with an uneven, zombielike gait. Ashen stood back with Flo and Dusknoir handled it, felling it with a single punch that seemed to blaze with flames. It fell to the ground unconscious and charred. This terrifying image reinforced Ashen's feelings when Dusknoir was concerned. Flo looked on, and then asked,

"How does that work? You're not a fire-type."

"I use the fire. I can summon it on a whim and do the same with electricity and ice. It's something I learned to do, from drawing on my surroundings." He paused, and then realized the purpose of Flo's question. "It's very different to a fire-type. They are used by the fire, it is part of them. Because they have to draw it from within themselves it cannot be summoned so thoughtlessly on command, they have to feel it. I just use the heat around me, so my fire is weaker, and would not work under certain conditions."

"There's got to be another way, though," Ashen blurted rashly, "I mean I can't just stifle my emotions all the time and only let myself feel when I want to burn something. That can't be the way all fire-types do it."

"There could be another way, but I've never encountered it." The ghost replied, with a shrug.

They moved on further into the dungeon. It was fairly easy to navigate, because Dusknoir led the way and tackled every pokémon they came across. He also used their equipment (which he had picked up as they exited the detention centre) with great efficiency and knowledge, making their journey easy. They encountered little difficulty for the first eight floors, pausing only to eat occasionally. The x-ray specs the ghost-type wore made finding food easy.

However by the ninth floor they had dissolved into a slightly boring routine, letting themselves relax as much as was possible. Ashen and Flo were more concerned with sightseeing and learning the occasional tip than fighting, and Dusknoir stopped checking the corners of rooms, or peering in from the corridors before entering.

So there came a point when they marched into a room, carelessly, bored, only to be faced by fifteen foes.

They were instantly pushed backwards into the corridor by Dusknoir. His arm felt strangely substantial – he seemed to be able to choose when he did and did not solidify. He then briefly looked through the bag for an orb before shrugging and throwing it backwards. Ashen caught it in her mouth, lowering it to the ground since she could not hold it.

"Stay back." Were his only words to them, but they were spoken with a gravity, forcefulness, and raw aggression that they dared not question.

He threw himself into the fight violently with brute strength. His fists collided with multiple foes seemingly at once, rather than trying to avoid enemy attacks he simply took them and then remained unchanged. He was as impenetrable and unstoppable as a wall.

The ghost lunged around in a semi-circle, taking out five in one sweep. Another came up to his front and hit him with its vines, but he merely latched onto them and tugged them towards him, then returning the vine whip with a violent flaming punch. He allowed the kadabra and kirlia to twirl around him and hit their psybeams into his stomach with no outer display of weakness, before sending beams of shadow across the room crushing everything in their wake, leaving twisted limbs and darkened unconscious forms. He was terrifying, godlike, with seemingly unholy power that knew no boundaries.

He had no qualms about crushing feral pokémon that knew no better. What was more terrifying than this was that he seemed to hold no anger towards them either, they were simply in his way. Acting angrily towards something makes sense, it can be explained, but obliterating something so totally when no grudge was held…

Well, it certainly set a precedent. Flo seemed to be experiencing some of Ashen's primal fear.

In the space of minutes every foe had lapsed into unconsciousness, although the majority would never awaken and those who did would live out short, lonely lives before their various crippled limbs would pull them out of the race for dominance and food. Dusknoir stood triumphant, but his face held not even a glimmer of feeling. He looked lost.

Then something darker returned and they continued in silence, Dusknoir seeing no purpose in further talk, Flo and Ashen simply intimidated out of talking.

Ashen tried to burn the scene of slaughter onto her memory. There will come a time when I am in his way, she told herself, and I must remember to avoid it or escape it, lest I end up like them.

"Hello everyone, this is Ashen, and her partner Florar."

The vulpix and zorua faced a crowd of around ten pokémon. The diglett Ashen had asked for directions was there, as well as a wigglytuff that radiated power and a loudred that was looking at Flo with suspicion. The former human's fear had been exhausted from travelling with Dusknoir for so long, but facing so many pokémon whilst waiting for what could only be judgement still sent shivers of anxiety down her tails.

It was just awkward, they seemed to want her to say something, but what could she say? Dusknoir's introduction had been enough, surely. Flo nudged her.

"We're going to, uh, do our best to capture Grovyle!"

The words were weak and flopped around her ears like a wet fish. But they must have been the right thing to say, because everyone cheered very suddenly and quite disconcertingly. She tried to smile, and hoped that what came out was more than a grimace. Flo had certainly mastered a beaming grin.

"EXCUSE me oh GREAT and AMAZING DUSKNOIR," the loudred shouted, or it was certainly at the volume of a shout even if it had not been intended to be one, "BUT do you KNOW who this ZORUA is?"

"Yes," Dusknoir replied with practised regret, "It is true that not too long ago these two pokémon were inmates at Treeshroud Detention Centre- "

He was interrupted by an almost comically unanimous reaction of disgust and rejection. Everyone displayed some kind of shock or revulsion, and Ashen's empathy flooded her with resentment for her own presence here. She looked at Flo for guidance, feeling as if she was about to cry. Flo did not look fazed.

"It's okay," he whispered to her, the words lost to the others in the flood of outrage, "You remember how Dusknoir fought back in the dungeon. He can win them over, we know it suits him to have us around. And besides, Wigglytuff-"

"SILENCE!" Everyone was cut off abruptly by Dusknoir, "It is true that these pokémon were criminals in the recent past. But their crimes were petty, and they have completely reformed. Their loyalty has been pledged to the cause of stopping Grovyle, and I will take personal responsibility if my judgement in trusting them is wrong. I hope that you will treat them like the equals they are."

There was a small rumble of dissent but no outspoken disagreement.

"Then it's settled!" The wigglytuff said cheerfully, "These are our new friends! Cheer for Flo and Ashen, everyone!"

"…hooray."

The chatot began to flounder in the wake of so little enthusiasm. He hissed something in the crowd's direction that Ashen didn't quite catch, as a result they cheered with violent, forced enthusiasm. Flo giggled quietly besides her at their discomfort and obvious fakery.

"Okay apprentices, that is all!" The chatot crowed. Everyone cheered once more and then dispersed. Dusknoir began talking to the bird; they seemed deeply immersed in some kind of tactical discussion. Flo trotted over to the wigglytuff and Ashen did her best to follow.

"Did you know my father?" he regarded the normal-type carefully, "Zoroark the Wall-Breaker."

"Oh! Yes, we were friends. Haven't heard from him in ages. How is he?"

"He's gone."

Then there was silence, absolute. Something thudded onto the carpet, Ashen looked down. They were Wigglytuff's tears, she had not noticed that he had begun crying because his face was the same. He didn't ask what had happened to "Zoroark the Wall-Breaker", although maybe he would have eventually had Dusknoir not intervened at that moment.

"I've found someone who will help with your training, Ashen," Dusknoir loomed over them ominously, "come with me."

A/N: The next chapter hasn't been started yet, but should be soon now exams are over! I'm also working on a special episode about Grovyle... fun fun fun. Every chapter so far has been from Ashen's perspective, do you think I should change for a chapter? Not first person or anything, just more about them. Maybe occasionally but not most of the time?