Chapter Eight

A Conundrum for Corundum


Though it had stopped raining well before midday, droplets of rain still clung to the office window. Beyond the glass panes, the fields of the Verdant City Park gleamed a lush emerald. Once dying dried grass now shone in thick green waves, as if magically revitalized by last night's storm.

As usual, however, Stadium Master Corundum Earthshaker was too busy to even glance outside. As the esteemed manager of the equally reputable Verdant City Stadium and governor of Verdant City itself, Corundum rarely ever had a moment to spare. And when he did, it was most certainly not for something as trifling as the scenery.

Leaning back in his spacious swivel chair, the middle-aged Tyranitar clacked his claws impatiently together. His sharp black eyes were focused on the monitor screen in front of him, where the image of a stony-faced Dragonite was currently displayed.

"Patrols found the Fearow's body on the route outside Mercury," the Dragonite was saying now, head bowed so deeply that only her slender antennae were visible. "It was frozen solid to the ground. Aeolus had his share of enemies while he was still living in Verdant City, I'm assuming."

Still twiddling his claws, Corundum gave a tired laugh similar to sandpaper scraping against cement. "Aeolus was a zealot," the Tyranitar said shortly. "And a rather annoying one. Someone clearly saw fit to put him in his place, though whether or not that someone was a Verdant citizen can't be told. At any rate, it's not our problem. Aeolus and his little escapades have been taken care of, and that's the end of that."

The Dragonite's pale golden forehead furrowed into a disapproving frown. "Your fellow Stadium Masters, including myself," Tiamat said sharply, "think the Fearow posed a much greater threat than that. Don't you have any idea of the talk floating around these days? Stories about an ancient race of Humans called the Pokémon Trainers. And a legend about a young man known as the Martyr…"

"…who reportedly led a Trainer and Pokémon army against the Masters long ago. And lost," Corundum finished for her. He sighed and rubbed his rocky-hided temples with the flats of his broad paws. "I fail to see how these little fairy tales concern me, Tiamat. If you'll excuse me…"

"Legend also has it that this Human, the Martyr, left behind a sacred object known as the Rainbow Wing," the Dragonite broke in, undeterred. "This object was to be used to revive and summon a Legendary Pokémon, one that would be an extraordinary weapon in the hands of an individual they call the 'last heir' of the Martyr. This 'heir' would be the savior of the Ringed, one who would return freedom and harmony to all…or something banally predictable like that."

"I'm sure those tales have a lot of appeal for the Ringed masses," Corundum replied with a sigh. "But we all know there's no proven record of the Pokémon Trainers anywhere. And frankly, the idea of Humans enslaving Pokémon is absurd. No more than a ridiculous fantasy concocted by the Ringed Human factions."

"Whether it is fantasy or fact," Tiamat said, her intent gaze darkening into a glower, "the matter still remains that many of the Ringed believe it nonetheless. And the number of believers is growing rapidly. If an individual such as this legendary 'last heir' did appear, we could have an enormous revolt on our hands."

Her dark eyes smoldered at the thought. "When he was still alive," she went on, "Aeolus was a threat because he possessed something very powerful indeed. He had alleged proof that the Pokémon Trainers once walked this world. He had the remains of the legendary Rainbow Wing."

Corundum's face scrunched up in skepticism. "And some bits of feather and dust can incite rebellion?"

By this point, Tiamat's eyes had become mere pools of inky black, her leathery forehead a furrowed map of wrinkles. "As you've said, the legend of the last heir has much appeal to the Ringed," she replied delicately, expression clouded and unreadable. "Many even claim descent from the Pokémon Trainers and their Pokémon. And once a bond that tangible has been fixed in their stubborn little heads…"

She sighed again, growing tired of beating the subject. "The point is that the remains of the Rainbow Wing were not found with Aeolus's body. The Wing was taken beforehand by some unknown party."

"So we'll send someone out to find it. I have just the individual in mind."

"That is fortunate, Master Earthshaker," the Dragonite replied stiffly. "See that you do that. In the meantime, I have a small gift for you. Something which, if needed, will provide the perfect bait for this Wing snatcher. I've sent it from Midnight Mesa with a special messenger. Watch for it."

"Bait?" Corundum grumbled. "What do you mean by that?"

But the monitor screen blinked out before Tiamat had a chance to respond.

Suppressing a yawn, Corundum leaned back against the chair and rubbed his stony eyelids with a paw. He had enough to worry about already, what with it being Festival Week and all. Verdant Stadium would be holding special tournaments and events every single night, and, as Stadium Master, Corundum was expected to oversee each and every one of them. It was enough of a headache without having to get all riled up about some lunatic running around with a bunch of shiny feathers.

Forcing himself back to attention, Corundum checked the clock on the far wall, then reached for one of the many stacks of papers on his desk. He still had ten minutes before he had to meet the fire marshal to discuss new fireworks regulations. If he was lucky, he could review some of the vendor permit applications he'd been trying to finish before Tiamat's call had thrown everything off schedule…

"SURPRISE!"

Corundum bolted about a foot off his seat. "What the…!" the Tyranitar roared, extended paw dropping onto the chair arm. The shout was instantly followed by the strident blowing of a kazoo and the tossing of colored confetti.

"Happy Festival, Dad!" came a merry voice from in front of the open door.

Eyes darting downward, Corundum caught sight of a young Larvitar standing on the carpeted floor, a red kazoo in one paw and a handful of confetti in the other. Somehow, he had managed to ease open the door while Corundum had been distracted on the phone.

"Feldspar? What are you doing here? You could have at least knocked!" the Tyranitar informed his only child sternly.

As he flung the remainder of his confetti into Corundum's face, Feldspar grinned. "Aw, Dad! That's no fun!" he protested in a mock pout. "But don't you remember? I wrote you a letter just last week about how I was coming over today!"

Corundum did recall some kind of letter from Feldspar. It was still sitting next to his desk in a growing mound of yet-to-be opened mail. "Must have gotten lost by the Pidgey Express," the Stadium Master replied quickly. "Aren't you supposed to be in school at the Midnight Mesa?"

"We're on holiday for the Eight Days of Festival!" Feldspar explained happily. "Oh, gimme just a second! I need to go and get something…"

Corundum sighed as the Larvitar ducked back into the hallway. He quickly checked the clock again. Two minutes of precious time had already passed. Well, Feldspar always meant well, that much could be said. The little Larvitar was a good student, a spirited young Pokémon, and shaping up to be a decent successor to the title of Verdant Stadium Master. Still, Corundum could not help but feel burdened by his son's sudden arrival. His busy plans had not included catering to Feldspar, certainly not during the Stadium's most frenetic time of year.

"Oops! Sorry about that!" Feldspar's voice floated up from the hall. "Uh oh! Be careful with…!" There was a loud clatter as twenty some boxes all hit the floor at once.

Poking his head out the door, Corundum saw his son, as well as a silver-furred Eevee wearing a red ribbon, half-buried underneath a landslide of gaudily wrapped presents.

"Hi, Dad," Feldspar said sheepishly from under a golden package nearly as large as he was. "Sorry about the mess. I'll clean it up as soon as I…ouch!"

As the Larvitar struggled out from the pile, raining boxes in every direction, the little silver Eevee smacked him on the head. "Don't leave your stuff lying in the hall like that!" she scolded, shaking a paw at Feldspar. "Else someone could get really hurt. Someone like you, you, you!" She giggled, causing Feldspar to turn as red as a polished ruby.

"Hello, Himeka," Corundum wearily greeted the young Eevee Master. "Here to register your Ringed team in the match tonight?"

Himeka's grin illuminated every feature of her round little face. "Yep! You didn't think I'd forget, did you? Better not have! Better not, not, not!"

Though Himeka was infamous for forgetting to register until the last possible moment, Corundum didn't bother pointing this out. Her father Gruff Madison, after all, was the city's Chief of Security, Corundum's foremost colleague, and one of the richest Masters in the entire region. Gruff's little Eevee daughter had grown up with all sorts of toys and servants to carry out her every whim. Corundum had never thought it wise to raise children in this manner; Feldspar, for example, had never been allowed such pampering.

But when Himeka had gotten interested in the Ringed battling business several years ago, back when it had started to become a popular fad among the youngsters, Himeka's father had bought his daughter some of the best Ringed fighters in the entire region. Consequently, Himeka had quickly become one of most successful competitions at the Verdant Stadium, consistently winning battle after battle with a bare minimum of training. Rumor had it that all of the young Eevee's Ringed team were free to roam the city and practice at whim.

Himeka had always been immensely proud of her Ringed battlers. She made a point to enter every single competition at the Stadium. And despite the strain this must have put on Himeka's Ringed, they still usually managed to put on a good show.

Corundum had watched Himeka's Ringed many times in the arena before. One, a black-haired Human boy who went by the name of Cro, often made Corundum uneasy with his piercing stare and imperious disposition. That was another way in which Corundum disapproved of Himeka's loose training methods. Leave the Ringed to their own devices, and you never knew what they might be plotting.

Oh, sure, they were obedient enough. Most had to be, if they wanted to survive. But Ringed like Cro always stayed unnervingly aloof, never caring to form bonds with their superiors. They did not fight for their Masters out of love or loyalty, only to hone their own abilities until the time came to break away. And this obvious lack of devotion could not be worth even the sharpest fighting skills.

The Tyranitar figured Cro was one Ringed who would not remain satisfied with his condition much longer. If she had any sense at all, Himeka would have any fighters like that boy put down immediately.

Of course, the little Eevee was far too proud for that. Or perhaps Himeka was just plain thickheaded; Corundum wasn't really sure which.

"Just give us a minute," Corundum informed the Eevee, trying his best not to let his rapidly mounting irritation creep into his voice. "I need to have a small talk with my son." He waited for Feldspar to choose the appropriate presents before heading back into the office. Feldspar followed as best he could, staggering a bit under the weight of his boxes. Himeka padded in as well, even though she had clearly not been invited.

"Here's your Festival present, Dad!" Feldspar said proudly, standing on the tips of his paws and placing a box onto Corundum's desk. "I made them all by myself, and they're really good! Well, at least, I hope they are."

"I'm sure they're wonderful, Feldspar," Corundum assured his son. "But listen. While you were at school at the Midnight Mesa, did the Stadium Master there give you something to bring me?"

Feldspar nodded and stacked a second box on top of the first. This one was not wrapped in metallic paper and bore the official seal of the Midnight Mesa as its only decoration. Without a word, Corundum took the box and pried it open underneath his desk.

Inside was a long colorful feather resting atop a cushion of black velvet.

This is supposed the perfect bait for the Rainbow Wing thief? Corundum mused, staring down at the iridescent piece of plumage. Tiamat did say that Aeolus only possessed remnants of the Rainbow Wing.

A half-smile twisted the rocky features of Corundum's weathered face. It seems that we have parts of the Wing as well.

"Open it!" Feldspar burst out eagerly. Himeka, who had been climbing onto the desk for a better look at the gift, lost her grip and fell off with a yelp.

Startled, Corundum looked down at his son. Ah, of course.

Taking Feldspar's present in his claws, he ripped off the careful wrapping. "It's wonderful," the Tyranitar declared as a decorated metal tin was revealed. "Thanks, Feldspar. It's just what I needed. A wonderful little box. Extremely useful; I can keep my pens in it."

"Oh, Dad! That's just the tin!" Feldspar laughed. "The real present's inside!"

Corundum pulled off the lid and set it aside. The smell of fresh granite shavings filled his nostrils as he peered down. Homemade rock cookies filled the box to the brim, all cut into fanciful shapes such as stars and crescent moons. "Very nice," the Tyranitar said, moving to put the lid back on.

Feldspar beamed. "Go ahead and try one!" he urged. "I made sure not to put any burnt ones in."

"That's okay, son. I think I'll save them for tonight's dessert. And speaking of tonight…" Corundum pushed the cookie tin to the side of his desk. "Feldspar, the Eight Days of Festival is one of the busiest times of the year, especially for the Stadium. I'm afraid I won't be able to spend much time with you today. How about tomorrow? We can go to the park together; how about that?"

The Larvitar's usually bright face dimmed a notch or two. "Oh," Feldspar said, trying his best to hide his all-too-obvious disappointment. "It's nice of you to offer, Dad. But tomorrow I have to leave. Uncle Obsidian invited me to his Festival party and I promised I'd be there. Maybe…maybe I could just hang around with you tonight?"

Corundum chanced another glance at the clock. Now he had less than three minutes left before his meeting with the fire marshal. "Look, Feldspar," he said with as much kindly patience as he could muster, "I've got a Stadium to run, and, right now, I frankly can't handle any distractions. It's been wonderful to see you again, and I'm sorry that this had to come up. But look on the bright side." Corundum leaned forward and put a claw underneath his son's bowed chin. "You can use the extra time to study for your finals."

"Finals?" Feldspar repeated numbly.

"Yes, the school finals you're taking after holiday," Corundum replied. "Want to make sure you study hard and get good grades. Verdant City doesn't want an academy dropout as its next Stadium Master!"

At this comment, Feldspar's already glum face darkened even more. "I…I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Dad," the Larvitar gulped. "You see, I've been thinking a lot. And…well…" He gulped again, obviously floundering with how to finish the statement.

Only one minute left. Sighing, Corundum tore his gaze away from the clock and tried to smile encouragingly at his son. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Himeka carelessly smacking a stack of folders off the desk as she tried to reach for a cookie. "Let's talk about this some other time, Feldspar," Corundum said tryingly, wincing as the papers tumbled down in the background. The beginnings of a long-suppressed migraine were beginning to throb beneath the Tyranitar's temples. "Give you some time to think and…"

"No, I've thought about it!" Feldspar interjected hurriedly. "I've thought about it a lot! And after all that thinking, I decided that…well, maybe I don't want to take over as the Verdant Stadium Master when I grow up."

Corundum's stony brow furrowed at his son's declaration. "You don't want to be Stadium Master?" he echoed incredulously. "You can't seriously be thinking that…"

"It's not just that I don't want to do it!" Feldspar babbled on, flailing his paws. "I don't think I'd…what I'm trying to say is…well, you know…I'm…er….just not the person for the job."

"Serving as Stadium Master is an extreme honor," Corundum replied edgily. "More than that, it's your duty." The pain in his head was coming in swift, unrelenting waves now. It was only exacerbated by the sound of the phone ringing in the background, accompanied by the crash of Himeka knocking over a half-filled mug of coffee as she scurried back towards the door. "You know there is no other person for the job, Feldspar," the Tyranitar growled, the irritation he'd worked so hard to conceal finally seeping into his voice. "Please don't argue with me."

"But Dad, you know how I feel about those Stadium matches!" Feldspar whined in protest. "And I was thinking of…oh, I don't know exactly what I want to be yet…but…but being a Stadium Master, I know for sure that's definitely not what I want to do, and I don't see why you keep forcing me to…"

The last of Corundum's reserves of patience finally wore through. "Enough!" the Tyranitar snapped, slamming his hefty paws into the desk. One made a large crack in wooden surface. The other sent Feldspar's metal tin of cookies crashing against the wall. "Do not argue with me, Feldspar!" the Tyranitar roared, black eyes blazing. "YOU are going to become the Verdant Stadium Master whether you like it or not! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Dad," Feldspar muttered, avoiding both Corundum's gaze and the sight of the spilled cookies.

"What was that?" his father barked.

"Yes, sir!" the Larvitar blurted out.

"Thank you, Feldspar. You may go now."

As Feldspar trudged dejectedly out of the office, Himeka pranced forward from her hiding place by the door. "Are you really, really the Stadium Master's son?" she asked the Larvitar, eyes wide in innocent curiosity. "I didn't even know he had a son! Really, really!"

Feldspar didn't look up.

Making a face at the retreating Larvitar, Himeka scampered back, large black eyes now turning to the tin by the wall. Her petite paw eagerly scooped up one of the rock cookies that had fallen out. Smacking her lips in relish, the Eevee chomped down on the treat's corner.

And dropped it a split-second later, howling and clutching at her mouth in agony.