Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, Pokémon, or any of the characters present. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. Pokémon belongs to Nintendo and Satoshi Tajiri.
The city was breathtaking. There were a couple towering buildings, but nothing was frivolous or extravagantly constructed. All the structures were made of stones and hardened sand, giving them the color of wheat baked by the desert sun. Adobes imbued with tiny glass fragments lined the streets. In front of them were tented booths and stalls with merchants making offers to curious passersby. And despite all this—or perhaps because of—a mystic aura of tranquility permeated through the entire town.
"This place is amazing," breathed England, "I haven't seen anything like it. The only place back home that could possibly compare is the city of Bam." Heracles flicked his ears.
"This town really is something; it's the oldest city in all of Diasama. You'd be impressed by its history and what it's been through. Of course, what you see is only half of what it has to offer." They had entered the plaza, a huge agora with four small pools circling a long stone pillar located dead center of the town. Several flying pokémon were wrapping colorful wreaths around it in preparation for tomorrow's festival.
But China noticed something peculiar as he gazed around. "Where is everyone?" There weren't nearly as many pokémon out as there should have been for a city this size. With the exception of the workers and a few merchants and buyers, it was practically empty.
"It's too hot out for many. More will pop up toward evening time when the sun sets."
"Though you can expect to see a lot out tomorrow," grinned Sadiq, and Heracles agreed to that with a nod.
"Hey, guys, Excadrill's waking up." The group paused and turned to see the mole stirring on America's back. His eyelids slowly fluttered open and he groaned.
"Ngh…what in the world happened? Where am I?" He glanced around, spotting the sand buildings. "How in the world…we're already in Magirena? How…?"
"You fell unconscious while underground," England answered, "We think maybe you got too close to the shifting sands." Excadrill blinked, an expression of complete confusion on his face, before bolting upright.
"What!?" he exclaimed as he frantically checked over his body. "Did I touch it? Alpha above, please tell me I didn't touch that stuff!"
"Don't worry. You're fine," America assured him. The Excadrill relaxed just a bit.
"Then I must thank ya'll kindly for saving my life. Never has that sort of thing happened in all of my crossings." Gupta and Heracles stared at the nations and Sadiq.
"You managed to escape the shifting sands?" The Delcatty sounded somewhat impressed.
The Zoroark jerked a thumb at himself, smirking. "And I helped."
"Really?" Heracles didn't believe him.
"He did," China nodded, "He helped us out of the tunnel right when the sands were about to get us, aru." Gupta gave his friend a tiny warm smile before looking at Excadrill. The guide flinched, his eyes going wide for a few seconds.
"Ya' the one speaking with telepathy?" The Lucario nodded. Gupta's eyes then shifted to Heracles and Sadiq. After a brief second, both stepped forward, having gotten some command from him. Excadrill by then climbed off America's back. "Uh, sure, I won't mind. Though I really do feel fine now." Sadiq offered his arm to the still wobbling mole. Once Excadrill got his bearings, the three headed down a side street.
Calling over his shoulder, Sadiq said, "We'll meet you guys at Herc's inn once you're done. We'll make sure your buddy here gets all rested up. Gupta will lead you to Madam Mismagius's place." The Lucario beckoned for them to follow, and the nations obliged. He led them past the markets to a small clearing where there appeared to be a staircase heading down into the dirt. The three hesitantly walked after him, the memory of their last underground adventure still fresh on their minds. England went first followed by America being uncharacteristically close behind and China bringing the up the rear. The main stairway going down had several side paths that branched off and veered to different locations, much like the streets above. So that's what Heracles meant– half of what the city had to offer was underground. Rather than adobes, pocket-sized dens and caverns housed various shops, services, and homes.
Eventually, they came upon a long hallway, upon which numerous life-size statues lined the way. Most of them were of what appeared to be ancient creatures, a few resembling dinosaurs. At the end of the hall was a single polished wooden door. Gupta knocked before opening it and walking inside.
The chamber was a fair size with the walls blocked from floor to ceiling with shelves containing books and unknown items. A long table stood in the middle. Papers and maps and scrolls with cryptic symbols were everywhere; they cluttered the table, floor, shelves, and the few stools that were in the room. From the ceiling dangled crystals of every color of the rainbow, and they all glimmered in the light of the nearly melted candles. And at the other end of the table hovered a creature England could only describe as a purple cloak wearing a witch's hat. This odd pokémon had its back to the guests, so fixated on the red feather it was twirling in its tendril.
"But you see, Avalon, that's what would happen to normal feathers after they're burned. In the case of…" She trailed off, interrupted by a distant voice coming from the crystal ball perched on her table. "Well, have you ever seen a magenta Ho-oh? I thought not. Now I haven't yet asked one to douse itself in fire for me, but that doesn't mean those feathery beauts aren't coated with something to keep from burning. Just think, once we discover the secret to their rainbow-making ability, the sooner we can find the answers to why—"
Gupta coughed and the purple being looked back in surprise. Upon seeing the nations she squealed in delight. "Yay! Guests! Strangers! Pokémon I can leave an impression on!" She flew across the table, through Gupta. As in literally through him. America's face blanched.
"G-g-g-g-ghost!" he stuttered, taking a frightened step back. England and China also retreated some, though their expressions of shock nowhere near America's level. The ghost froze right in front of them.
"A ghost!? Where?" She looked around and spotted her reflection on the crystal ball, distorted and warped out of proportion. "Yee! A ghost! Help!" She rushed toward America and hid behind him. Terrified, the eagle dashed away, stumbling over the clutter on the floor. She gave chase, desperately trying to hide from herself behind America, while America was desperately trying to get away from her. This very quickly turned into what could have been a comedy act of two people running in circles, only this wasn't nearly as funny. It was stupid, in fact. England growled at America's childish antics, and he opened his mouth to yell at the two.
"Madam Mismagius. May I suggest that you cease this at once." Rather than England, the voice from the orb was the one who sternly suggested that to the pair. The two fleeing stopped in their tracks, turning their attention toward the ball. England was impressed. It might have had something to do with how he demanded attention with such a firm though not scolding voice. Or how he managed to make himself heard over the ruckus without even yelling. Or how he carried a light but wholly recognizable British accent. The voice continued, "That is not another ghost; that is your reflection." Madam Mismagius blinked.
"Really?" She hovered toward the ball. "Oh, so what do you know? It is me." She laughed at herself as she picked it up. Then she stopped suddenly, frowning. "When did I get so fat?"
"Reflection, dear," the voice reiterated with remarkable patience. Madam Mismagius shrugged. America took the opportunity to scurry behind England.
"Why did the pokémon we were looking for have to be a ghost?" he whimpered. England shushed him as Madam Mismagius floated back to her side of the table. She glanced curiously at Gupta. The Lucario bowed respectfully. Then he stepped out of the room and closed the chamber door behind him.
The purple ghost grinned at the trio. "Sorry about that. You had me worried that an evil spirit had followed me home again. I swear, you excavate one Cofagrigus tomb and suddenly it's as if you're a beacon to all ghosts everywhe—"
"Ahem!" The mysterious voice already had to remind the lady to stay focused. Poor soul.
"Huh? Oh right. Thanks Avalon. Gee, without you I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached to my ne—"
"Welcome, travellers," the one named Avalon greeted the nations instead. Madam Mismagius pouted.
"That's my job. And I was getting to that." She once again smiled at the group. "Hello there! I'm Madam Mismagius. But you can call me Madam if you like. Or Mismagius. Or just Magius, really; I'm not that old. I know Madam Mismagius is a mouthful for some. Anyway, what are you here for? Chief Stoutland was the one who sent you lot to me, yes? Gosh, I haven't seen that old hound in ages. I really should drop by his village."
England coughed, not quite sure how to address this capricious pokémon. "Yes, he did, um…Madam. But how did you know?" Madam Mismagius smirked.
"Because I'm a psychic."
The Gallade blinked. "Really?"
"Pfft! No," she laughed, "I just said I was a ghost, didn't I? Gupta told me through telepathy. He saw the seal outside. He may be a psychic, though. I never asked him."
Avalon groaned quietly before asking kindly, "So your purpose for being here, if I may ask?" China answered, looking at the Mismagius.
"We're here on business to learn about the Time Adamant's location. Chief Stoutland said you would know about it, aru."
"Indeed I do! Indeed I do!" cheered the Mismagius as she zipped around in a circle above her seat. "I just gave my report on it at the symposium last month. Were you there by any chance? I didn't see you at any of the seminars, but I have to say whoever was in charge of the order of the presentations was crazy for thinking—"
"Maybe I should be the one to help these fellows," interrupted Avalon.
"But I—"
"You're not nearly as focused as you should be, Madam Mismagius. Not your fault, dear, just poor timing that you had some Figy wine before our earlier chat."
"But I like Figy wine…"
"Of course you do. Now, let me talk to our visitors properly, please." Madam Mismagius huffed in resignation. She muttered an odd incantation under her breath, and gradually the chamber began to swirl away into mist. The nations glanced around in awe as the room altered and they were thrust suddenly into the midst of a foggy forest.
"Where are we?" America wondered.
"You're still in Madam Mismagius's dungeon, good sir. What you see is just an illusion for the mind created by the Madam's exquisite spell." A small creature emerged from the mist, green all over with black marks surrounding its eyes. It looked like a fairy of nature with its thin wings and small antennae perched delicately on its head. "A pleasure meeting you gentlemen. My name is Avalon– humble Celebi at your service." He bowed with a scrape.
"Pleasure to meet you." The small creature shook England's proffered hand. America was still looking around.
"This place is all in our heads? That's neat! But why are we here?"
"A twofold reason, really. The first to meet you, the second to protect you. Dialga cannot overhear what is spoken in the mind. America, England, China– you have come here for directions to reach the Time's Adamant and return home." This was all a statement spoken in such a matter-of-fact tone. The nations were mildly bewildered.
"That's true," said China, "But how could you have known that? We never revealed that to Gupta. Nor did we give you our names."
"Ah, but you didn't need to, good sir," smiled Avalon. England snorted.
"Let me guess: you're psychic?"
"Technically speaking. But that's beside the point."
"Wait, hold on…you said you're a Celebi?" The Braviary's eyes narrowed as he struggled to remember something. "That name sounds familiar. You, uh…oh! You're a Legendary!" Avalon gave a modest nod. "Don't you control time?"
"He protects time," Madam Mismagius corrected him with a smile, "And plants. This forest you see is his home. Beautiful, isn't it?" America muttered something about how even England's weather was better than this. "Oh! So do you know these pokémon through time wandering, Avalon?"
"Naturally. But we are again getting off topic. First, my dear, I'd like to point out that we are not conversing with ordinary beings." He ignored Madam Mismagius's incoherent sputtering. "You are anomalies of time, and I don't just mean in this world specifically. Even within your own realm you've been through eras most beings can only dream of seeing. So let me warn you gentlemen that whatever age-old experience you have in your world will do little to help you here."
"We're aware," the Mienshao said. "Chief Stoutland was quick to inform us of this upon arrival, aru. But we have gotten quite strong since then."
"But you must get stronger still. I understand that you see yourselves as humans with a goal to restore your true forms, but if you expect to survive in our world you must abandon the thought and accept the forms you have now."
Utterly confused, all three nations stared at him. "What do you mean?" asked America a bit defensively.
"You are pokémon, my good sirs. Since your arrival in this world, I have been keeping watch over you, and what I've seen is most discouraging. You have powers I'm sure you've never dreamed of possessing, and yet you let them go untapped. Let me remind you that you are not limited to mastering just one move. You will require a variety of attacks if you wish to survive your confrontation with Dialga; the Great Dragon is certainly one whom you cannot take lightly."
The three were now as speechless as Madam Mismagius. They were all thinking the same thing. "Confrontation!? Who said anything about us having to fight Dialga!?" England nearly shouted. Avalon bowed his head.
"Unfortunately, you will not have any other choice. To use the Altar of Time requires you to place the Time's Adamant upon it, thereupon restoring Dialga's power to him and releasing him from his seal. All of the altars are designed as such. But if you wish to meet your friends again you'll have to do just that."
The Celebi sighed, giving himself a brief respite. "I say all this because, as the Protector of Time, it is my duty to eliminate all anomalies that threaten the stability of our timeline. However, I have no desire to actually fight you. My kind are peacekeepers by nature. The way I see it it's in my best interest to help you gentlemen reach the altar rather than hinder you. But be warned: Diagla intends for you to summon him unknowingly once you get there. At that time, he will try to not only annihilate you but reinstate his reign over these lands. His attack earlier was just a means to hasten your progress."
"Cheater!" Madam Mismagius shouted, causing everyone to jump. "He can spy on them even when sealed away and he can attack from his time prison too? He's a cheater!"
"Finer words haven't been spoken, Madam. As I'm sure you have just surmised, the Great Dragon can also sense these beings' disturbance to the time-space continuum. He sees them as both his obstacle and key to regaining former glory. We mustn't let that happen."
"You can count on me!" Madam Mismagius held her tendril up in salute.
"Why can't you just send us into the past? Why use the altar at all if you can control time?"
"I protect time," Avalon immediately reminded England, "To control time means that I have influence over the course of history, which I unfortunately do not. Think of me as like a bookkeeper reading a scroll. I can start at any point of the narrative—beginning, middle, or end—and see what happens next, but I cannot change what has already been written. I must guard this metaphorical scroll from damage lest the contents be ruined and the story no more. You and your friends are like spilled ink slowly staining the scroll. The sooner we clean up this mess, the less damage our story—and thus time—will sustain. Was that a good enough analogy for you?"
England, America, and China let that all sink in. So they had to get stronger if they wanted to stand any chance against Dialga, who planned to strike once they reached the altar and freed him. They wondered if things could get any worse for them.
Madam Mismagius sighed sympathetically. "I know what you boys must be feeling. I get it all the time when my fellow scientists laugh at me during presentations. But like I always say: you can't let the impossible get in the way. No one believed I'd ever find a use for a Clamperl's pearl, but lo-and-behold, I discovered its psychokinetic boosting abilities through sheer determination and accident alone."
"I apologize that our first meeting turned out to be quite a depressing one," the Celebi bowed fully to the trio, "But with both our future and your lives on the line, the situation necessitated your immediate enlightenment. I'd get you to the stone myself, but even my powers are useless against your overbearing temporal auras. But fear not. We will meet again once you gather the stone, and I shall lead you to the altar. May you gain more experience by then. Madam, we shall continue our talk about a Ho-oh feather's properties at another time. I'm sorry we had other matters to attend to." Madam Mismagius waved it off, not seemingly bothered. The foggy woods swirled and faded away back into the candle-lit chamber where they started from. There was no sign of Avalon, him too disappearing with the illusion.
"Don't worry, Avalon's not usually a stick in the mud," the ghost chuckled lightly, "We usually have much more interesting topics of conversation. Though what he said before wasn't uninteresting in the least. Are you really from another realm? And you're not pokémon? So what are humans? You have to tell me everything! How you got here, how you picked those forms—"
"Please, Madam," all three groaned. How Avalon was so patient with her was a mystery. "We don't have time for this. We just want to know where the Time's Adamant is. Tell us and we'll be on our way; we'll train as we get there." England rubbed his hand over his face.
The Mismagius cocked her head to the side. "You mean like give you a map?"
"That would be preferable. Do you have one?"
"Of course I have one. I discovered it while stuck in some lost ruins. My research hinted that the actual stone's location would be there, but all I found was the map to it instead. All my work wasted." The nations were left awkwardly staring at her once she finished and continued to simply float in place.
"Aren't you going to give it to us, aru?" China prodded.
"What? You want me to give it to you?"
What did you expect we wanted!? England couldn't help thinking rather irately. Madam Mismagius crossed her tendrils.
"I can't just give you lot the map! I may have found it, but it's not mine. It belongs to someone else. I'm just keeping it safe for them until they can properly claim it."
"Then can't you just tell us how to get to the Time's Adamant?" America huffed, frustrated.
"Of course I can. You'll need the map though."
"Stop playing with us!" China warned. He prepared a Focus Blast between his paws. His companions did nothing to stop him. "Either tell us how to get there or give us the map! We have no time for your nonsense."
Madam Mismagius's eyes narrowed fractionally as she studied the blue ball. "Focus Blast. Fighting type. Special attack. Natural move. Radial length: Medium-short." She read off the statistics in a clinical tone. "You can fire that if you want. It won't hurt me the slightest even at close range. Though it will be bothersome to clean up the mess afterward. And I just got the table to stop wobbling too."
"Are you really asking for us to hurt you?" England stepped forward, his palms now glowing a faint green with magic.
Madam Mismagius stared at him. Then she listed in the same calculatory voice, "Confusion. Psychic type. Special attack. Natural move. Aura strength: thin, vibrant." She blinked. "Why use the attack Confusion? Wouldn't a Psychic attack be more effective? Not that I haven't dealt with psychics before. That seems to be their preferred move." She turned expectantly to America. "Okay, now show me what moves you know. Please, please, please!"
There was a knock on the door. Gupta stepped in. Immediately upon seeing the nations in attacking positions he stiffened for a brief second in shock before dashing along the wall and leaping between the three and the ghost. He assumed an attacking stance of his own, forming the blue staff between his paws. "Calm down, Gupta. No worries. They were just about to show me what moves they knew. I just wanted to know everything about these guys. Nothing seriously bad was about to happen." Gupta cast her a sideways glance. Then he slowly lowered his staff.
"Please, Madam, isn't there anything you can do to help us? We didn't travel all this way for nothing; we were told you were the only one who could get us to the stone." Despite his better judgment, the Englishman was willing to start pleading with her if need be.
"Tell you what." The nations weren't getting their hopes up with whatever she had to say. "I can tell you that the owner of the map will be partaking in the festival tomorrow. Why don't you participate as well?"
"Are you saying we'll find them there?" England asked, a tiny note of hope seeping into his voice. The Mismagius nodded. "Alright then. We'll look for the map's owner then." Full of joy, Madam Mismagius clapped. She then turned to the Lucario.
"So what'd you come for?"
Gupta gestured toward the nations.
"Oh, okay." Madam Mismagius grinned at the three. "Gupta says your friend has fully recovered, and he'd like to give you something as gratitude." As she let Gupta usher them out of her chamber she waved to them goodbye. "Please come back soon! I want you to tell me everything about your world before you leave the city."
Upon entering the Anápafsi Inn's spacious lobby, Sadiq greeted the three with a laugh. "So how was it? Madam Mismagius drive you crazy?"
"That would be putting it mildly, aru," sniffed the Mienshao. England sought for Excadrill, who walked up to the trio when he spotted them.
"There will be a slight change in plans. We'll be attending the festival tomorrow if that's alright with you. There's someone we have to meet with who can help us."
"It's alright with me," nodded Excadrill, "And to make sure ya'll have got everything in order how about I pick ya'll up the day after, sometime around noon. We can meet up here." The three nodded. "Great. Now I've got something for ya' boys. As thanks for getting me out of that tunnel, how about I treat us all to some drinks? Ya'll can come, too, misters Sadiq, Heracles, and Gupta."
"Count me in," the Zoroark grinned. Heracles nodded. Gupta held up a paw, declining the offer. "Don't mind him. Unlike the lazy cat here, Gupta actually does his duties like he's supposed to." Heracles kicked his leg.
"I'm much obliged." He decided to wait in the lobby for them as the nations checked into the hotel. They paid with two more pieces of chargestone.
"Let's hope we don't have to barter for anything else," muttered America to the two after he handed over the crystals. "Those were our last two pieces."
Heracles led them through the underground hallway. Since all but the lobby was below ground, it was comparatively much cooler here. The hardened sand was smooth as marble, glossy as glass, and gave the faint illusion of them being in a reasonably fancy if not exotic hotel. Strange colorful hieroglyphs and symbols lined the walls in an intriguing design.
"You each will have your own rooms," said Heracles. He showed them China's room first. There was a modern-day bed in the corner, probably the most shocking object in the room. Beside it was a tiny wooden table that had to be a nightstand with a candle resting on top. Across the room was a low shelf filled with papers, scrolls, and books. A lamp made of hollowed stone hung from the center of the room; a fire inside it was already lit. The walls were blank save for one strange-looking word that was etched over the bed. The letters were odd and England could almost swear they spelled out 'Wisdom'.
They stepped inside. "These rooms were added fairly recently. We're still in the process of decorating, but they should do for you in the meantime. The straw in the mattress is the finest and softest grown in this region, so you will have the most restful sleep. And since many scholars rest here at the inn, all rooms have a selection of reading material provided." China picked out a book and opened it. Inside were letters reminiscent to the ones on the wall.
America whistled. "Not bad," he said. The Delcatty then showed them America and England's room, which were identical to China's with the exception of the words over the bed—America's looked like it had 'Courage' and England's 'Loyalty'. The nations put down their belongings and made back for the lobby.
Excadrill, Heracles, and Sadiq were already waiting by the front door. "Ya'll ready?" The large mole led the way outside and down the now slightly more populated street. Down the main street and just past the plaza was a small building with a thin cloth serving as the door. The six stepped inside. They were instantly hit by the amiable chatter and wave of hot air.
"Afternoon," a creature that could be best described as a fusion of an anteater and a furnace greeted the group. The newcomers returned the greeting and took seats at the long bar as there were no available tables large enough to fit all of them.
"Six Type-Specialties, please," Excadrill ordered.
"Coming right up." The bartender went to fetch their drinks. When he returned, he passed them thick glasses full of colorful syrup-looking beverages. England glanced at his, unsure if the golden drink was some kind of beer or juice. America's drink was light blue in color and China's bronze.
"Drink up," Excadrill encouraged, and he took a swig from his own glass. Already bracing his stomach, England took a cautious sip. It was a little thick, not unlike melted ice cream. Odd texture aside it was…actually…it was delicious! The rich flavor of warm honey mixed with a pinch of peppermint and earl grey was an odd concoction almost worth dying for. England was instantly reminded of home, of relaxing in peaceful solitude in his parlour and enjoying the best hot cup of tea in his life. He couldn't stop the compulsion to sigh in utter contentment. His companions' reactions mirrored his own.
Heracles smiled. "This must be your first time drinking a Type-Specialty. Each drink is made with your type in mind to give the best possible flavor."
"You're probably thinking of home right now," added Sadiq as he took another gulp, "I know I sure am."
"There's got to be a way to bring this stuff back home with us," sighed America.
As they whittled away the time with friendly chatter, the conversation slowly drew back to the mishap in the tunnel. "I just can't believe I got so careless," the large mole said, shaking his head. "Ya'll had to be pretty smart to get through there and manage to climb your way out. And with me weighing ya' down. And trust me, I know how heavy I can weigh."
"What weight? You weren't heavy at all," chuckled America. England smirked.
"Then I must be as light as a feather to you the way you knocked me down. Guess I know who to call for if ever I want a free ride." The Braviary's smile fell somewhat.
"Yeah. Guess so…"
"Well, I was the one who actually got us through the tunnel in the first place," China quickly reminded them.
"That's true," agreed America. Sadiq was about to make a remark when he paused. His head turned toward the entrance where a large tan and brown falcon of sorts was stepping through.
"That can't be…" he muttered, standing from his stool and earning the confused attention of Heracles. The large bird with the mane of red and yellow feathers was approaching.
"Hey, bartender, make room for—Sadiq?"
"Hey! I knew it was you!" He and the female bird hugged, and the latter in turn laughed and nuzzled Heracles.
"Sadiq! Heracles! Long time no see. Staying out of trouble, are you?" She earned two equally unapologetic looks from the two. "You know I'd just hate to have to ruffle up your fur if you two keep acting up. Remember the last time?" The three laughed at whatever memory they shared, though the nations didn't miss the Zoroark and Delcatty shoot each other a dirty glare. "Who're you guys?" The bird was addressing the nations. Sadiq answered for them.
"Some friends I made in the desert. America, England, China, I'd like you to meet my friend Amelia. We go way back– she's part of a wandering troupe. Our clans meet up every once in a while to exchange news. Amelia, say hi to the boys." The bird instead slapped a wing on the back of England's shoulder.
"England, huh? I've got a friend you have to meet. And I won't accept 'no' as an answer, you hear?" She grinned and winked at the disgruntled Gallade.
"So your friends are here also?" asked Heracles.
Amelia nodded. "Just two of them."
"Where are they?"
"That's a good question," Amelia put on a frown. She fluttered back to the door and shouted out, "Alice! Chun-Yan! Come on already!"
A few moments later two more females stepped inside. "You don't have to be so loud, Amelia," the one that vaguely resembled England chastised. She looked to be wearing a flowing white skirt, and her "helmet" had two long pigtails instead of a horn.
"Oi, Amelia. We were looking at some jewelry our troupe could use in a future spectacle. I found some bangles for Madeline. Look." A sea weasel with light orange fur and two tails held up a paw with thin golden rings dangling from it. Amelia admired them.
"Oh, these are pretty." She then let her friends say hello to the Zoroark and Delcatty before gesturing to the nations, specifically England. "Alice, I may have just found you a mate." England choked on his drink as Alice's face went dark red upon hearing that bold declaration.
"Y-you can't just decide things like that, Amelia! I've said before I have absolutely no interest in males. I do enjoy my status as single, thank you very much."
"But he's perfect for you," insisted the bird with America near tears laughing behind her and Excadrill slapping the now coughing England on the back. "You two are related; isn't that enough?"
"How about the fact I don't know him?" Alice retorted angrily. She then brushed past her friend, deliberately avoiding any eye contact with the Gallade, and sat next to Heracles, as far away from the nations as she could get.
"Don't get like that," Amelia pushed the seat next to her to make room for herself. "You know Francine teases you about being the only Gardevoir in existence without a suitor."
"We're not discussing this now," hissed Alice. "And if you're so interested in getting singles together, why don't you have yourself that one over there?" She nodded toward America.
"Me? With a Braviary?" Amelia snickered. But then she paused, as if actually considering the thought. Chun-Yan walked up to the nations, the first to properly introduce herself.
"Hi there. I'm Chun-Yan."
"Hello. I'm China. Pleased to meet you, aru." The Mienshao bowed his head politely.
"My name's America."
"Greetings. I'm England."
"He even has the same funny accent as you." Alice kicked Amelia in the leg
"My name is Alice," the lass said, finally turning to them. "It's safe to assume you're participants in the festival?"
"Just recently," answered England, "It was more of a last minute thing."
"Then that means you'll be in town to see our show," Amelia said with a smile. Heracles and Sadiq perked up.
"Are you going to be doing the opening ceremony?" the Zoroark wondered.
"That's right." Sadiq jerked his thumb at the girls.
"You fellows are in for a treat tonight. These girls are known all over for their jaw-dropping performances."
"Stop it, Sadiq; you're making me blush," Chun-Yan giggled, her cheeks turning a light shade pinker. "But we're not doing any opening ceremonies until we check into the inn first. We had literally just arrived at the city before Amelia split to find this place."
Heracles waved his paw flippantly. "No worries. There're plenty of rooms still available. These three each received one just earlier today. I can let you share a suite if you want."
As Heracles offered the girls living arrangements, Excadrill moved to slide off his seat. "I think I'll be heading back now. Gotta' get back to Sandslash and make sure everything's alright on his side of the desert. I'll be sure to come back for ya'll the day after tomorrow." He walked outside after saying his goodbyes to Heracles, Sadiq, and the girls.
"I think I'll return back to the inn, if that's alright with you two," England said, standing as well. "The books back in our rooms interest me. Maybe there's something in them that can help us on a travel."
"Good thinking," said China, "America and I will stay here a bit longer and see if we can find any more information about tomorrow's festival, aru. We'll catch up with you later." England nodded, bid a farewell to the others, and left for the inn.
England was lying on the bed, book in hand, looking at the words but not really reading them. It wasn't that he didn't understand them; most of the symbols resembled the letters in the English alphabet, and he could with a bit of effort read most of the text within. No, his thoughts were instead on how to find this mysterious owner of the map. Madam Mismagius said nothing about what the fellow looked like or where to find him. Or if it was a 'him'. And what if they didn't want to hand over the map? England couldn't think of a reason why they wouldn't want to, but if that outcome happened, then what? He groaned quietly to himself. They were so close and yet getting nowhere.
Sitting up, he returned his focus to the page. The book was a collection of scientific studies performed in Diasama, and while none of them gave any hints to the Time Adamant's location, several pages did provide information about the species of pokémon that lived on the continent. Pidgeot like Amelia lived either in the Vasand Desert or just north of it to avoid competition with the Braviary and Mandibuzz in the south. Gardevoir like Alice were a branched evolution of whatever species of pokémon Gallade evolved from; England noted this had to be what Amelia meant by the two of them being related. And Floatzel like Chun-Yan were actually quite rare around these parts. More than likely she came from a coastal region.
There was a light tapping on his door. "Come in," he answered, not looking away. He heard the sounds of the door unlatching and feathers ruffling. "What is it, America?"
"It's, uh…" For some reason the American sounded a bit unsure of himself. "Just wanted to say we found out a bit more about the festival. It's kind of like the Olympics back home; the pokémon here just hold a bunch of tournaments and games in the name of camaraderie and that jazz. Heracles says they expect a lot of participants this year." England grunted a noise of acknowledgement. He truthfully was more interested in the passage explaining how Gallade had the power to imbue their blades with different elements. He just had to try them out, particularly the move the book called Night Slash. "So what are you reading?"
"Just something that might give me an edge in battle," England answered. America came around and peeked over his shoulder.
"You can seriously understand that?"
"You can too," the Englishman retorted, "Unless you're telling me you seriously forgot how to read." America stared harder at the words.
"I guess it does sort of look like English. Well that's convenient." England pointed to a crude sketch of a Gallade using an attack.
"Avalon said we needed to master several new moves. I want that one in my arsenal." He could already picture himself using his blades that were enveloped in that powerful dark aura.
"That's…that's cool." America looked away. "Listen, England…I'm sorry for what I did earlier."
"Honestly, you should be sorry for a whole host of things you've done." England remarked, sitting up, "What in particular are you apologising for?"
"Back in the tunnel…when I…" Was he still upset about that? It wasn't like England was dead. He himself already chalked it up as America being too clumsy. "I promise that will never happen again, England. I swear. Do you…can you forgive me? I just…need to hear it…is all."
England rolled his eyes. Once again America was getting upset over his sense of wounded pride and lack of heroism. If he was expecting the Gallade to say something along the lines of heroes make mistakes, he had another thing coming. "America, in case you haven't noticed, now isn't the best time to let your fantasies of being the hero get in the—"
"No…" the American said in barely a whisper, "Not for that…"
"Then what…?" At first he couldn't understand what he meant by 'not that'. But ever so slowly did the answer click.
America wasn't upset because he thought he failed at being a hero.
He was upset because he legitimately thought he had killed England. And for whatever reason he couldn't get over the guilt.
But at the same time, it wasn't entirely his fault, England realized. America had reacted out of reflex, and he unfortunately happened to be behind America at that particular time. But he supposed the boy couldn't see past that. England averted his own eyes, slightly ashamed over his earlier assumption.
"L-look, I don't blame you, okay? It was an accident. You being more of an idiot than usual isn't going to be the end of me."
"But I—"
"Look, it's fine or whatever. I forgive you. Happy? Though just so you know, I read Gallade are able to exhibit dormant abilities of self-protection when in danger. I would have been fine either way." America's stare was fixed on the Gallade for several long seconds. Then he nodded, a small smile upon his face.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Really now, you get worked up over the silliest of things. Makes me wonder how you can claim yourself the hero." America chuckled, though England did note how it wasn't up to par with his usual laughs. "Are you still here just to annoy me?"
"Pretty much. And to tell you that China and Sadiq managed to convince the girls to let us watch them rehearse before the ceremony starts. We figured they could give us tips and show us some new moves."
"But they're performers. What use will we have with their moves?"
"Not sure. But they've got to be better than nothing." England conceded to that. He watched America head for the door and give one last grin to the Gallade. England could still see the eyes holding back some guilt, but at least now they were a bit clearer than before.
England returned to the book, his mind mulling over the new moves he planned to learn, the shame America would have to overcome, and the grueling task of locating the unknown map owner if they ever wished to see their world again.