A/N: I've actually written up to Chapter 30, and I have up to 27 published on other sites. I fell behind on posting it here at some point, so I'm posting kinda rapidly for a while to compensate. ^_^ I'm saving this note now, so if this chapter appears before Monday (NZST) kindly smack me on the back of the hand/head/whatever. I don't want to flood anybody.

Chapter Twenty-One

More Dreams

Ren left his mother and Cole chatting at the kitchen table, excusing himself to his room. No sooner had he opened the door than his Pokenav – which had been sitting on the floor by the bed – rang insistently. He picked it up guiltily. "Hello?"

"Mr. Goodwin," said a disapproving voice on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Etois," said Ren tiredly. "Sorry, I went out and left my Pokenav behind. Have you been calling long?"

"Only about half an hour," Gerard said drily. "But no matter. I am simply calling to inform you that your transport to Fortree has been arranged for tomorrow."

"Oh, good," Ren said. "So, what's happening?"

"Well . . ." Ren heard a note of disapproval in Gerard's voice.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked.

"Not as such, but . . . well, all I can tell you is that transport has been arranged."

"Wait, seriously? Nothing else?"

"It has been requested that you be waiting outside your house at eight-thirty tomorrow morning."

"Requested? By whom?" Ren frowned.

"Again, I have been asked not to say."

"So you spent half an hour calling me just to tell me that you're not actually allowed to tell me anything?"

"Essentially. I feel it is something of an exercise in futility, but you are nevertheless informed now. Oh, and besides . . . I have spoken to the organisers of the Mauville Contest, and they are more than happy for you to come along and simply watch the proceedings on Thursday. They would like you to present the ribbon to the winner as well, but that will hardly be too strenuous, I imagine."

"Of course. Yeah, I can do that."

"Very well, then. Now, are you able to find transport to Mauville on Thursday?"

"Mauville? Oh, yeah, that's fine. I'll just take a train, or maybe I'll go by Cycling Road. Either way, I'll get there myself just fine."

"Excellent. So remember, eight-thirty tomorrow. Have fun."

"Sure," Ren said, suddenly not entirely certain that he would. As the line went silent, he let his Pokenav drop to the bed beside him.

You can't afford to be all uncertain now, he scolded himself. For Arceus' sake, you've been through too much already to let this kind of thing get to you. Nodding firmly, Ren took a deep breath, letting the warm, slightly dusty air fill his lungs. Feeling slightly better, he headed downstairs again.

"Are you all sorted for tomorrow, then?" his mother asked as Ren reentered the kitchen and pulled up a chair.

"Yeah. Well, I think so. He wasn't very clear. It seems somebody wants to surprise me. I'm just meant to be waiting outside at eight-thirty in the morning. Maybe they're sending a car, but I have no idea."

"How enigmatic," she mused, an amused twinkle in her eye. "I guess you'll just have to wait."

"Whoa, hang on!" Cole interjected. "What's going on here?"

"I have to go to Fortree tomorrow," Ren said. "They're having a festival of some sort . . . come to think of it, I actually don't know what that's going to involve. But I'm turning up as the Champion."

"Oh. Promotional stuff, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ren said.

"You all right with that?" Cole asked, peering intently into Ren's eyes.

"Why wouldn't I be all right?" Ren countered, feigning puzzlement.

"Hmm," Cole said, seeming somewhat unconvinced. "Never mind, then. It was just a thought. Still, that's pretty cool. I guess you have a whole lot of these things going on, huh?"

"I'm . . . busy," Ren admitted. "This is how life is going to be for a while, it seems. I don't expect it'll get any less hectic anytime soon, but I guess it'll get easier as I get used to it."

Cole's eyes narrowed slightly as he observed Ren, but he evidently decided to let whatever had just crossed his mind pass without comment, for he turned to his aunt and engaged her in conversation about Aunt Mabel.

Ren looked down at the dark, varnished whorls of the table, letting the voices of his mother and cousin fade into background noise. Cole had seen it in his eyes, he realised. While he had made light of his heavy duties as Champion, he should have known that he couldn't lie to his older cousin. Even if his lips spoke falsehoods, his eyes would always betray the truth. He had seen that understanding in Cole's own eyes.

But what should I do? There was no way he could admit to how difficult it was. It wasn't like the world of dreams, which had to remain secret for an entirely different reason. In fact, there was no logical reason why Ren shouldn't admit to Cole how much trouble he was having, but still something stopped him. He supposed it was pride. He had spent so many years proving trying to prove to Cole – and to himself – that despite his age, he was able to hold his own with the older boys. Admitting how hard he was having it right now would somehow ruin that, he felt. I'm fourteen now, he told himself, clenching a fist under the table where nobody could see it. I've got to stop relying on other people here.

Then what am I doing in the world of dreams? he wondered suddenly. I'm just leaning on Elly and the others there. I can't even look after myself – they have to do that for me. But what can I do? There's nothing for it – nothing except making up for it by being as independent as I can here.

"Ren?" Cole prompted, leaning across the table to poke him in the forehead. "You awake there, man?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just a bit tired, still. What is it?"

"I know you're busy tomorrow, but do you think you could drop by and see Aunt Mabel on Wednesday? I have to go back to Lilycove tomorrow, so I can't go with you. But I really think she'd appreciate it, you know? She's not herself these days, but she was really happy to hear how well you did at the League. I'd say she'd enjoy it if you went to talk to her."

"I'll do that," Ren said. "I think . . . yeah, I think she'd like that."

"Good," Cole said, standing up suddenly and heading for the door. "Now, I have to go. Mom made me promise to be home by four. Things to do and all that, you know?"

"I know how that is," Ren said wryly. "See you . . . next time I see you, then."

"Yeah, I probably won't see you in the morning before we both leave. Good luck with all the stuff you've got going on, Ren. And bye, Aunt Thalia. I'll stay in touch."

"Goodbye, dear. Say hello to Roger and Mary for me, would you? Tell them I plan to drop by tomorrow if I can."

"Sure thing," Cole said, and with that, he was gone.

Ren took a deep breath and let it all out at once, standing up from the table. "I'll be in my room," he said.

"All right, dear. Dinner will be about six, I imagine. What do you plan on getting up to till then?"

"Um . . . I don't really know," he said. "I'll find something. Read a book, maybe."

"You could just stay here and talk to me, you know. I get awfully bored with just the radio for company," she said lightly.

Halfway to the stairs, Ren paused. He heard the slight challenge in her voice, and he shook his head helplessly as he returned to his seat in the table.

"So," he said. "What shall we talk about?"

The best part of four hours later, Ren excused himself to go to bed early. It wasn't exactly as if he was keen to return to the world of dreams, but he felt a certain obligation. He had to apologise to Salinthia, for starters. Uneasily, he wondered if the spirits would ever see him the same way again. He remembered Steven's warning about not getting on their bad side. They are certainly more than capable of making your life hell if you offend them. He shivered as he sat down on his bed, suddenly unwilling to go to sleep.

On a whim, he reached across to his bedhead and pressed the release switch on Zangoose's Poke Ball. With a pop that seemed louder than usual in the otherwise tranquil evening, his partner Pokemon materialised next to the bed.

Zangoose leapt to the alert, claws raised defensively, and scanned his surroundings quickly. It took him a couple of seconds to work out where he was, at which point he glanced questioningly at Ren as if to ask, 'Why did you bring me out if I don't get to cut anything?'

Ren smiled. "Easy, buddy. Just needed a little . . . company." He slung his legs up on the bed and fell back into the pillow, sighing deeply. After about twenty seconds of silence, he rolled to the side to find Zangoose observing him balefully, red eyes just barely elevated above the level of the bed. "You really don't know what to do, do you?" he mused.

Zangoose cocked his head slightly to one side. Well, duh, Ren imagined him saying. Zangoose had never been one for conversation, even as far as Pokemon were concerned. The Normal-type was the main fighter on his team, not a healer or a source of emotional support. Nevertheless, he had been with Ren the longest out of any of his team, and Ren felt a certain sense of calm wash over him with him in the room.

"You want to sleep out of the ball tonight?" he asked. Receiving nothing but a wary, slightly confused glare, he clarified: "I'll feel better if you're there. Wake me up if something . . ."

He stopped and swallowed. What was he worried about? Was Salinthia going to make good on her threat? Would it even be necessary? If what she had said was true, and the Soul Bonds really were deteriorating at a faster rate than before, he would have no choice but to stay in the world of dreams. That prospect didn't endear itself to him.

"Just wake me up if anything goes wrong, okay?" he amended.

Still looking at him askance, Zangoose moved back from the side of the bed and curled up under the window, bushy tail wrapped defensively around his body. His red eyes remained open, however, fixed unblinkingly on Ren.

Anybody else would find that really creepy, Ren thought with some amusement. He looked back into Zangoose's eyes as he felt sleep begin to tug on his eyelids, and drew some comfort from the almost tangible connection between them. As he finally closed his eyes, he realised that he had never truly appreciated how lucky he was to have partners like he did.

"What are you, really?" Ren asks Afro Glameow. He is sitting cross-legged on a giant red mushroom flecked with white spots, sipping sweet, steaming tea from a delicate china teacup with coloured flowers on the side. It's surprisingly tasty, though he isn't normally fond of tea. He replaces the cup on its saucer with a delicate clink, noting as he does the thin white gloves that encase his hands.

Afro Glameow is curled up on a slightly smaller mushroom just a couple of feet for him, but for once it looks anything but threatening. Much like Ren, it is apparently enjoying a hot tea of some kind, lapping it happily out of a saucer. It appears totally at peace with the world.

"Oi!" Ren tries again, snapping his fingers to get the Pokemon's attention – an effort not exactly aided by the gloves on his hands. "Why do you hang out here, anyway? What are you?"

Afro Glameow stretches luxuriously, taking a final lick from its saucer as it does so. Fixing its eyes on a point somewhere behind Ren, it leaps lithely across onto Ren's mushroom. When Ren doesn't react except to take another sip of his tea, it nudges his elbow insistently with its springy afro, mewling gently.

"Oh, what is it?" Ren snaps, slightly peeved. He turns around, though, and is faced with a familiar-looking black portal. "Oh, right. It seems I have to go now." On a strange whim, he reaches around the afro and scratches the unusually benign Pokemon behind the ear. It lets out a purr, but nudges him even more insistently toward the portal.

"You really want me to go, don't you?" Ren says thoughtfully. "Why's that?" No answer. He shrugs. "Fine. I'll see you on the way back through, I guess?" Without waiting for a reply, he puts a hand out behind him, allowing the portal to suck him through into the second ring.

"Hello, you," said a familiar voice. It didn't sound too friendly, but Ren opened his eyes and did his best to smile anyway. He was in Steven's secret conference room in the Slateport Devon Corp. building, sitting in one of the chairs. Staring at him from across the table was Elly, looking to be in remarkably better health than the last time he'd seen her. Her lower left arm bore a long, thin scar from elbow to wrist, but it looked as if it had been there for years, appearing as little more than a slightly discoloured line. He still shuddered to look at it, though, remembering the violet blood that had been running freely from it the last time he saw her.

"Um, hi," he said. "Are you . . . I mean, is everything . . ."

"Everything's fine," Elly said. "Well, it's as fine as it's going to get. Now come on, the council wants to talk to you."

"Wait!" he said as she stood up, kicking her chair backwards.

"What?" she asked icily.

Ren winced, but carried on. "I just thought of something. About the Iehkti'na . . . if they're that intelligent . . . or rather, if they realise they need me alive in order to survive themselves, why did they try to kill me that first night?"

"I . . . I don't know," Elly said, looking as though it pained her greatly to admit it. "I can only guess. But you're right – that doesn't really match up with what Nekros was saying."

"It wouldn't really benefit them if I died, would it?" Ren asked.

"Of course not, moron," Elly snapped. "You die, the Soul Bonds die with you – and so does everything else. As much as I hate to single you out as special or anything, you're kind of the most important person in the world – in two worlds – right now. But don't you dare let that go to your head, you hear me?"

"All right!" Ren said, raising his hands in defeat. He grinned, despite the seriousness of the conversation. "I'll try not to mention it again. But seriously, why the sudden change with the Iehkti'na? It's going to bother me all night now."

"My best guess is that in the second ring, they're just as dumb as they normally are. That Nekros seemed to have them under its control somehow, but he – it wasn't in the second ring with us that night. Those smaller Iehkti'na probably couldn't follow as complex an order as 'Don't kill the yehktira' when the big boss wasn't around. But hell, what do I know? They're obviously some kind of intelligent now. Maybe they have a government! Maybe they had an election between then and now, and the old leader thought it would be a good idea to knock you off!" Her voice rose steadily in pitch until she was almost shrieking, and Ren winced.

"You seem kind of on edge," he commented, hoping it wouldn't start off another tirade. Of course, he realised what was happening. He had seen Elly's eyes after the battle. She had to be feeling completely useless now. She had spent seven hundred years thinking she was invincible, only to have the uncomfortable truth handed to her all at once by her greatest enemies. She would be lost, afraid and likely feeling extraordinarily redundant. He wasn't going to mention any of this, though. Somehow, he got the impression that it would be better to let her think he still only saw the facade she had put up. Rather than hiding her anger, she was using it as a shield to cover up everything else she was feeling.

"On edge? Who, me? Look, are you out for a beating?" she growled. "Look, never mind. Whatever. The council – myself included – wants to talk to you, and you don't keep the council waiting."

"Not if you have gossip-mill Cecilia around, anyway," Ren muttered, remembering her snide comments the last time he and Elly had arrived late. With something close to shock, he realised that he was worried about Cecilia. Of course, he was worried about everybody in the world of dreams, but it was different somehow. Cecilia didn't seem as strong as the others. While Elly and Salinthia gave the impression that they were completely able to take care of themselves, thank you very much, Ren couldn't help but worry about the waif-like girl with her green-gold hair.

"Are you coming or not?" Elly demanded.

With a start, Ren realised that she had somehow opened a portal to the third ring without him noticing, which was surprising given the remarkable amount of noise that usually accompanied the act. He considered passing comment, but thought better of it and stepped through without a further word.

"Come on, mortal," she said briskly at the other end, practically dragging him away from the portal.

"Mortal?" Ren said quizically. "Since when did you call me that?"

"Since I started being in a bad mood," she snapped, heading for the council building with Ren at her heels.

"Nope, I'm pretty sure you've been in a bad mood ever since I first met you," he said, somehow finding it in him to poke fun at her some more.

Everywhere around him, he saw pain. It lay on the Glade of Shifting Light like a blanket, stifling everything light or colourful. The sky was an uncertain grey, the unlikely marble buildings were dull, and the spirits went about their business with quiet footsteps and downcast eyes. It made him want to bite his tongue and follow Elly silently and reverently; these people were in mourning for the first time in centuries. Even so, he couldn't help but feel that a little levity was necessary.

"Are you ever, you know, happy?" he asked, speeding up a little to walk alongside her.

"It has been known to happen," she said, eyes remaining fixed straight ahead.

"Really? When? What makes you happy?"

"It usually involves no annoying yehktira asking stupid questions, no dead friends, and no imminent threat of Ragnarok."

"Ragnarok?" Ren asked, frowning. "Isn't that-"

"Yes. It's a myth belonging to an ancient people in your world. The final battle at the end of time, where the gods and the giants would fight. This giant serpent would kill this god, that other god would kill some particular giant wolf, and another god would turn traitor and slaughter all his brothers before dying himself or something. One of our yehktira several decades back told me about it."

"So why mention it now?"

"We have a similar belief, actually – that there will be a final battle to end all things. Unlike the legend from your world, though, our prophecy told us nothing specific. We know we will fight, but we don't know who. We don't know when, where or how. We don't even know what will happen afterwards, if there even is an afterwards. It's terribly nonspecific."

Something in Elly's voice seemed to change as she spoke. It was almost like she was reciting something she'd said a thousand times before – yet there was no sense of boredom or frustration. Just an inexplicable feeling of . . . awe? "And this . . . you call it Ragnarok too?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes, well. We didn't have a name for it, so we borrowed yours. Why are you so interested, anyway?"

"Oh, well . . . it just seems to me that maybe . . . just maybe, Ragnarok could be coming soon."

"You think I don't know that?" she hissed, rounding on him suddenly. "You think that every single person you see around you doesn't know that? Why do you think everybody is so quiet, Ren? It's not just because we're in mourning. No, we've lost friends and family before. Not for centuries, sure, but our memories are long. We can all feel it coming, Ren! We know the end is coming! We-"

"Stop," grated a voice from behind them.

Ren jumped, turning to see who it was, although he was almost certain that he knew. Sure enough, he saw Maho limping towards them, half-dragging one leg and hunching his shoulder beneath his massive coat.

"Spellcaster General," Elly said respectfully. "Was there something you wanted?"

Maho nodded his head awkwardly. He crooked a finger awkwardly at Ren. "Lab," he croaked.

"Oh, right!" Ren said guiltily. "Sorry about that. Cecilia said-" He cut off when Maho raised a hand sharply.

"Later. Come," he said with apparent difficulty, before turning and limping off again the way he had come.

Ren watched him go with a slight sense of apprehension. "You think he's mad?" he asked nervously. The Spellcaster General was a rather menacing figure, and Ren reasoned that Maho would probably have good reason to be upset about Ren's trespass into his laboratory.

"I wouldn't think so," Elly said. "He probably just wants to talk – or, well, communicate in some way – with you. Maho likes yehktira, mostly because he's our lead researcher. He's likely to grill you a bit with regards to the Soul Bonds."

"But I don't know anything about them other than what you've told me!" Ren protested.

"You don't think you do," Elly corrected him, starting off again, leaving Ren to catch up to her. "Anyway, go talk to him after the council is done with you."

Ren sensed that the conversation – such as it had been – was over. He hurried after Elly, his mind returning to what she had been saying a couple of minutes ago. Ragnarok . . . Was it actually going to happen? Would he be a part of it?

And most of all . . . would he survive it?