Perching silently atop Quagsire's blue and shiny head, Lyra traveled onward, the sun burning at her back and stinging her arms. All around them, the ocean hummed and breathed, and in the distance, whirlpools fizzed and foamed.
Quagsire gurgled and swam onward, trying his best to keep Lyra above sea level. He slipped, though, and fell under for the third time that voyage, submerging Lyra up to her waist in cool water. Despite this, she made no complaints. He was smaller than her, and she was impressed by his guts and strength thus far. For a moment, Lyra imagined herself riding Furret and drowning them both. In another moment, she wondered why she HAD TO ride a pokemon at all. "This is why those swimmers were laughing at us," Lyra murmured, finally understanding her position—surely, it'd be more respectable to swim by her own talents. "This is completely unnecessary! Quagsire. Do you really wanna do this?"
Quagsire spoke to the best of his ability—churning up air bubbles from his mouth. His small, beady eyes blinked. Yes. I want to show you I'm strong, he indicated, in his own unique words.
"Hmm." Lyra frowned. "You don't have try and prove anything. This isn't a test of courage!"
Quagsire continued gurgling, frantically paddling beneath the surface. But if I don't show you that I'm strong now, he revealed through chokes and gurgles, you'll give away my spot on the team. Right?
"That's true," she admitted, pulling her hat over her face; "But I will replace your position on the team, regardless. You ARE a part-timer, after all. But if it helps any, know that you'll receive full retirement benefits. AND a golden parachute!"
Quagsire went under completely at this, submerging them both beneath the dark, choppy water. Lyra's ears clogged. Opening her eyes—which stung from the sea salt—she blearily saw Quagsire staring at her through the shadows. Somehow, they had been dragged deep into an undertow.
Did he dunk me? Lyra wondered; If he did, I can't blame him! A skilled trainer may make up a well-crafted half-truth until getting to shore. Something like: "Give up your spot? You'll be with me forever." Lyra thought this all was very true, at least until she recalled that most people couldn't talk to pokemon anyway. In effect, this sad actuality rendered her entire scenario presumptuous and devoid of any realism! Ah, that's right! I too was once unable to talk to pokemon, she recalled further. I didn't care, either, at least until Ethan bugged my dad for such knowledge. Ethan. I suppose... he was gifted at understanding and nurturing nature. So much so, that when we were a little older, Ethan easily had me listen to the Tentacool mumbling in the water. It was scary at first, but then... it made everything feel right. Even now, the reverberating cries of those creatures, carried by nearby currents, presented themselves as the raw voice of the water.
Reaching out and grabbing Quagsire's fin-like paw, Lyra slowly swam with him and floated up through angled pillars of sunlight, the two hand in hand, like wanderers of a fifth dimension. Surfacing to the loud world above, Lyra gasped for air and they continued onward to Cianwood, and with haste, for both Amphy's sake and Crystal's. If Lyra was still going to pull off her mysterious plan, she knew she had to finish this detour first.
Crystal, I promised to help you, Lyra thought, remembering the absurd promise she'd made days ago at the National Park, despite Crystal's clear protest. Because I believe in your heart! And I believe in Ethan's. This wish for the two to be together... for Lyra, this was a wish from long ago—her reason for departing on her own path, without regretting, and without looking back at theirs.
Because, in her eyes, Ethan and Crystal were forever on the route above her.
In that same way, even if she spent these days just blindly running down past them, she still earnestly wished for their one connection.
Hand in hand with Quagsire still, Lyra fiercely kicked to keep her head above as they swam. "Back there! Did you dunk me on purpose?" she asked, still gasping for breath. "Come on, are you mad at me?"
Quagsire shook his head, his voice bubbling out.
"Oh... didn't mean to accuse you! I simply thought you had good reason to."
The current was too strong, so Quagsire had given out. He was leading them through the water now, wholly tired from his expedition, but safely tugging them both away from the force of several whirlpools. I thought he was getting back at me, Lyra thought; Yes. I wonder... Don't pokemon ever get sick of carrying us? Being in and out of boxes, being taken out for brief stints and promising battles, only to be shelved.
Pulling Quagsire close, Lyra rested him on her back. "I'll take it from here on out," Lyra declared. "Because I just realized something! Though our paths are inevitably different, we're still together on this one—even if its span is temporal. In this moment alone, I can change it to its opposite. So!" She briefly ceased her rambling to struggle for air and balance. "Enjoy this rare opportunity to surf on a human. And whenever you feel like it, brag to your fellows about it. Uwahaha!" She laughed and paddled on. "I'm sure it'll be quite the conversation starter."
Quagsire opened his giant mouth and grinned eagerly.
Closer and closer to Cianwood City's shore Lyra swam, Quagsire happily riding on her back. Humming, she pulled out of the water at long last, with seaweed clinging to her face, and took her first steps on the new land.
A light flashed—startling her and Quagsire.
"Perfect!" a man said in rejoice. "Its title shall be 'Sea Debris'."
"Hey!" Lyra exploded, genuinely angry. "Don't take people's pictures without their permission!" She then turned aside. "And remember kids, if you do, don't post them on the internet."
"Oh? But you've given me permission before. Don't you recognize me?"
Lyra thoughtfully narrowed her eyes at the bald, sweaty man. "Hmm... Yeah!" She pointed at him rudely, with Quagsire still holding onto her head. "You're that photo booth guy from the Goldenrod Tunnel!"
"Cameron's the name." He nodded. "I've been needing an emotionally stirring photo for a friend... Would you be alright with this being published?"
Lyra's mouth opened wide—her eyes shrinking to tiny black beads and her face turning a shiny, vivid blue. Uncannily, she resembled the pokemon clinging to her cap EXACTLY. "Uh... well..." she answered, quite unsure about this compromising position she had been photographically captured in.
"I'll pay you."
"OK," Lyra piped. She glanced at Cameron expectantly, smiling—waiting for him to pull out his wallet. Quagsire leaned over the girl's soppy cap and stared soulfully at the man.
Cameron sweated. Such pressure. And when's she going to put the heavy load down? he wondered. That... that's not normal.
"Yo!" a mysterious man yelled, breaking the awkward silence and rushing up from behind them.
Lyra toppled over in surprise, flinging her and Quagsire across the sand.
"You're the girl Morty was talking about!" the mysterious man declared, shaking a finger at her. "The girl... who saw Suicune!" He watched Lyra with an air of hesitation. "You do know Morty, right?"
"M-Morty?" Lyra repeated and pushed herself upright, paling profusely at his continued mentioning. "Ye... H-he is... the devourer of wayward souls. The torturous master of the underworld..." Her head rattled around like a shaken juice canister. "Otherwise known as... The Demon King. URFG." Her face plopped back into the sand and her body convulsed and curled—much like a piece of plastic on a stove top. After a few heavy seconds of shrinking and stiffening, she went still and at last there was no further movement.
Investigating this phenomenon, Quagsire poked her with a stick.
"It appears she died from fear," Cameron said, taking a picture. What an inspiring subject!
"No! You can't do this to me!" The mysterious man dove headlong into the sand (in his fancy purple suit and all). Grasping Lyra's shoulders, he shook the life back into her. "You can't go now... I FORBID you from TAKING Suicune's secrets with YOU!"
With oval, monochrome eyes, Lyra stared up at the man blankly. Who is this guy? she wondered; Is he... is he a wizard? Noticing his short white cape with its smart giant red bow-tie (which was not unlike the one on her own cap), she instantly understood his and her pained, intertwined destiny. Their reason for existence. The sole purpose of their converging path.
She had to have his cape at any cost.
Noticing that Lyra had returned to him, the man let go of her and stood up, his hand on his chest. He cleared his throat. "Sorry about that," he said and made himself take a deep breath. "Lost control there for a moment! I get so choked up about Suicune that I can't help it... I've been chasing after it for ten years, you see..." He then muttered to himself; "Ten whole years... chasing Suicune... irreplaceable time... disowned by my whole family..."
Wow, Lyra thought, quite sad for him. This guy has problems!
Her recognition was proof alone!
"My name is Eusine," the man said at last, fluttering his white cape. "I've always wanted to see Suicune up close. I've wished to see it running on the waves... But I haven't seen it around lately... Suicune is beautiful and grand. How it races through towns and roads at simply awesome speeds... I've decided." He held out a hand out to Lyra. "I want you to tell me everything you know about Suicune!" He helped pull her up.
Hearing Eusine's words as quiet, tuned-out static, Lyra scoured him with deep-set envy. Such excellent fashion sense... she thought, verifying the parts of his outfit with her auto-targeting eyes; Purple silk waist coat, matching trousers, ruffled high neck shirt, white gloves... cufflinks... stick pin...
NO, this cannot be! Lyra thought, her face suddenly down-lit (revealing all its uber-realistic features in full contrast). This man... This man is... He is...
He is my FASHION RIVAL!
"Well?" he inquired.
"ONLY ONE CAN BE SO POSH," Lyra spoke in defiance, shielding her cap with her hands. "I AM SUCH." But then she remembered Eusine's inquiries and felt obligated to respond. "Uh. Hh... Suicune was it? A girl in a yellow skullcap caught it. It's on her team now."
The man collapsed on his hands and knees, sinking into the sand in despair. "So it's no longer running free..." he lamented tragically. "What is the chilling autumn sky without its northern wind?"
"OH, I know this one." Lyra punched her palm. "A miserable little pile of secrets."
"Uhh..." Cameron scratched his head, unsure of where the conversation was heading (and unwilling to find out). "I've gotta get back to work. Later." He walked off.
"Hmh?" Lyra looked around. Feels like I'm forgetting something... Lyra thought, Eusine weeping silently at her feet, like a true man. "Ah! Wait—my money!" Lyra yelled after Cameron. You forgot to pay me!
Having successfully retrieved Amphy's medicine, Lyra held the pharmacy bag close and walked alongside Eusine, who had since followed her to discuss EVERYTHING about Suicune and Crystal. During this time, the sun had fallen through the horizon and Lyra had already told him all the outrageous lies required to set up her greatest scheme yet.
"Hn," Eusine emitted, folding his arms. "So if that's the case, then..."
"Yes," Lyra said, standing guiltlessly in her boldface lie. "I heard it myself. Crystal may be the unbeatable princess, deemed worthy by Suicune through trial, but Suicune will follow the one who manages to best her. This is Suicune's Secret Test of True Worthiness." She paused. "Patent pending."
"I see." Eusine nodded in determination, taking Lyra's words as absolute truth.
"But Crystal is a magnificent gem who will only appear once, and only under certain circumstances. I heard she'll be in Olivine City tomorrow afternoon," Lyra said; "In front of Glitter Lighthouse. You understand?" She raised her fists at him. "That's your chance to engage in battle and win Suicune's approval!"
"Yes." Eusine contemplated this positively. "At... At last!" He gazed out at the ocean. "My chance... Suicune!"
Lyra whacked him on the back. "Right! Good luck then! Gotta catch 'em all in your pokeball. Ball."
"Right. Thank you for all your help." Eusine bowed. "Good-bye!" And at that, he briskly walked away. Lyra waved him off.
Quilava watched Lyra in confusion as she fished her pokegear out of a plastic sandwich bag (which she'd secured it in prior their voyage) and quickly dialed her childhood friend. Impatiently tapping her foot and listening to the line, she jolted when it picked up. "Ethan!" Lyra screamed into the mouthpiece.
"Yagh!" Ethan screamed in response, quickly settling down. "Wah! ...Lyra? Is that you?"
"Y-yes. I've got some BAD NEWS."
"W-what is it? What's wrong?" Ethan asked in alarm.
"I-it's terrible," Lyra choked, grasping the phone close, her brow tensed, "a WIZARD, an evil wizard is after Crystal! You HAVE to save her." She let Ethan gasp before continuing the rest: "The world is in danger!"
"What?!"
"Let us meet tomorrow afternoon at Glitter Lighthouse! Don't be late, you're the only one who can SAVE her!"
"Um, Lyra, ah—"
She hung up the phone.
Somewhere in New Bark Town, Ethan stared at his beeping pokegear in disarray. What kind of phone call was that? he wondered. "First she made that weird prank call nights back and now this..." He panicked. "A wizard?!"
"Meet you at Glitter Lighthouse? Fine. I'll be there," Crystal said, hanging up on her end.
Lyra sank to her knees on the street, closing her pokegear and chuckling evilly. She leaned against someone's front door. I've arranged for everyone to meet... she thought. Yes, my plan is going along smoothly.
"La vaa?" Quilava questioned, suspicious over what she was doing.
"UWAHAHAH," Lyra threw back her head and laughed wildly. "My plan intensifies! The plot thickens like your mother's stove top pudding! It's operation, 'Crystal's Cupid'!" She beheld the air with open hands, guffawing to a crescendo. "MWAHAHA! No one can ever stop me..."
Quilava shivered in apprehension. This would certainly not end well.
Without warning, the door behind Lyra opened, sending her crashing backwards.
"Ah-ah-AHHH!" a pokemaniac yelled, nearly fainting at the sight of the sprawled girl on his doorstep.
Lyra quickly stood up, rubbing the back of her head and then bowing repeatedly at him. "Sorry! Meant no harm!" she apologized. "Name's Lyra. I was just, uh, borrowing your doorway for a bit."
"Just don't steal it!" the pokemaniac sobbed, holding his face fearfully.
"What! I am righteous!" Lyra declared. "I am the night! And I never take anything that's properly nailed-down!" She then turned to Quilava and muttered: "He also has problems." As if she had any right to judge. In response, Quilava whipped his head back and flung snot everywhere.
"I see, urk," the man said with a gulp. "My... My name is Kirk. A Pokemanic." He shuddered but welcomed Lyra and Quilava inside anyway; "Sorry, but I'm still in shock! A guy about your age broke into my home recently. He had piercing eyes and long red hair and..."
Lyra tensed up, pulling a mental lever on slot-machine of all the hair-endowed people she'd encountered in her life. Ironically, a Cue Ball reared its (burnished) head briefly before landing on the right image of her rival. Silver? she thought, missing MOST of what the Pokemaniac had said.
"...I know it's my fault... Because I just love to brag about my rare and prized pokemon..." Kirk continued; "And everyone in Johto knows about them—"
Lyra sweated. I know where this is going, she realized. "So! That guy stole one of your precious pokemon?" she interrupted.
Kirk clasped his mouth momentarily and slung his hands about like a dork. "H-how," he sputtered and gulped, "how did you KNOW?"
Lyra frowned and crossed her arms in a very business-like manner. "His name's Silver. You'd better be careful," she warned. "Because when he wants something, he'll stop at nothing to get it. He's what one might call... HARDCORE."
Kirk jumped. "That sounds like a compliment."
"Wha? I'm just telling how it is!"
The Pokemaniac looked over his shoulder and teared up at the sight of the empty carpeted pet tower in the corner of the room (along with its adjacent scratching post and fuzzy springy ball). "That horrible monster took," he managed out with a sob, "my precious little baby son!"
Lyra gasped. "Silver stole an infant?!"
Pokemaniac Kirk then laid out blurry photos of a big-eyed purple feline doing activities such as: rolling with yarn balls, hiding in cardboard boxes, wearing tiny sweaters, and eating out of colorful pet dishes. "He was just so. So friendly. TOO friendly, always sniffing, hands, his blankets, so curious, wanting attention, napping in the window sill without a care in the world... that was his favorite spot... But sometimes he'd meow his little head off because he wanted out! But he couldn't go outside, I never let him, because he is a house-trained domestic breed."
"Oh." Lyra held her chin, finally understanding.
Pokemaniac Kirk then slammed a pokeball on the dining table before them. "That monster. He took my FUR baby... so now all I have left is my Shuckle." He relapsed into sobs. "What do I DO if he comes back?"
Lyra's soul burned with flames. "You'll do battle," she said, feeling Kirk's loss and shedding a single tear just for him. "To the death."
Kirk's skeletal makings almost sprang from their flesh prison. "To the DEATH?" he cried. "But I'm not strong enough! You though... You look strong!" Kirk regained hope. "Could you look after Shuckie for me?"
Confusion rearranged Lyra's face, like pixels on a glitched-out screen. "Look after your pokemon? I thought you were going to send me on some quest to get your Sneasel back... Well! I don't think you should give away your only defense, so keep Shuckie here with you, right on your belt, at all times!" Lyra put a hand on the Pokemaniac's shoulder. "Sorry, but Silver is my fierce rival. He's always popping out from the shadows, ready to steal my luck, so don't think I'm a safe bet for storage."
"But he hasn't stolen from you YET, right?"
"Hmm..." Lyra pinged her neurons for an answer. "I guess not, technically. But still... You need to prepare, for when he comes back. FOR BATTLE." Lyra proceeded to grip the Pokemaniac by both shoulders. "Do you UNDERSTAND?" She squeezed with unending might. "You must train for that day! Avenge your house Sneasel!" She calmed her voice. "Or just breed your Shuckle with a Ditto and pawn the baby on the GTS for a new Sneasel... I dunno."
Pokemaniac Kirk squealed from the pressure inflicted by her hands. "Will do!"
And so, Quilava and Lyra left the Pokemaniac's house, her mind heavy with Silver's recent fur-infant thievery—at least until she caught sight of the city's gym and was merrily distracted.
Under night's cover, Silver scaled up the windmill pole and kicked himself off it, landing atop Lyra's house. Digging his nails into shingle after shingle, he pulled himself up and scurried across the roof. I have to see her... he thought to himself. So far, he had searched all the nearby cities for Lyra and all the routes and places in between. He had even looked around Cianwood City for a bit, but then fled when he got sidetracked and stole a pokemon. He couldn't help it!
I need to see her... Silver thought; To confirm that creepy gym leader's story about her. I need to know the truth. Landing on the rail of the second-story's tiny balcony, he slunk across it and pressed his hands against the window frame and (unknowingly) peered into Lyra's room. Nothing... No one's in there. He scowled. Not willing to let his efforts go to waste, he pressed his palms against the glass and quickly rattled it, expertly jolting the lock up. With both hands still on the glass, he slid the window open.
Silver plopped down onto the floor inside—the thin, green window curtains brushing past his face. Lyra's sweet scent, lingering all around, alerted him of his location. "Must be her room," he whispered, adjusting his eyes under the moonlight. It was a sparsely decorated room, a loft with no door, and a dim light shone through from the downstairs. Damn, Silver realized, looking down at the open staircase; Now I can't turn any lights on. Someone must be down there, so I have to be silent. Going for Lyra's desk, he opened a drawer—and for a moment—wondered what he was even looking for. He immediately theorized a diary, or whatever it was that all girls documented their bizarre secrets in.
When he opened the first drawer, however, he found it brimming with junk: security envelopes, a recorder, dubious disks, cables, glass jars overfilled with colorful gimmicks and cute decorative erasers. Sheets of pokemon stickers. Dismantled electronics and packs of pocket tissue. Screwdrivers. Hotel shampoos. Barbecue lighters. A mini bar. For Silver, it was like opening a space shuttle door to an alien landscape. So this is... what a girl's junk drawer looks like... He quickly closed it and sat in disturbed silence. Against his better judgment, he opened the drawer below it and discovered a stockpile of patterned and lacy fabrics. Some were folded, but some were not. Tiny garments. Some with straps.
His face turned red when he realized what they were. Why... why does she keep her underwear in her DESK? He slammed the drawer shut, holding his face in embarrassment. She's so disorganized! Standing up, his elbow bumped a precariously stacked tower of CD and video game cases. To the floor they crashed, loudly, somehow bumping the button on her nearby Wii. It hummed, its disc player spinning.
It's like she set this up on purpose... he considered, glaring at the console angrily.
"Lyra?" a woman's voice called out from downstairs.
Silver froze, his heart racing. Is that... is that her mom? He clenched his fist. "Crap," he hissed, panicking like it was his first break-in all over again. I... I have to use force, I can't let her turn me over to the police! He grabbed the handle of something metal from atop Lyra's desk, even though an intense hatred pressed inside him. A hatred for what he felt he had to do next.
~To Be Continued...~