Chapter Twenty Four: Sunset
"Where have you been?"
Charlotte's reflection grinned broadly back at him, and Mr Adiem unleashed the sigh that had been building up for days, all his anger, frustration and fears coming out in one furious, defeated noise. He cast one final look down at Jubilife, admiring the way the sinking sun shone off the cars and buildings, seeing the people carelessly buzzing about beneath him, moving between work and home as if that was all that mattered. Arnold could watch them all day, letting the mindlessness of the world he had sworn to guard distract him from everything that had happened. He had stood by this window a lot while he waited for Charlotte, watching, wondering what would happen next rather than dwelling of what already had, hoping to forget what he had seen and searching instead for the answers. He had held back his emotions for days now, sleeplessly trying to focus on anything else, but it looked like his time to stew was over.
"A smile isn't an answer," Arnold said sharply, spinning around and facing Charlotte properly.
"I've been busy," the ghost replied, shrugging as she floated across the room.
"What happened in Sunyshore and at the League is more important than anything else," Adiem snapped, collapsing with a groan into his chair. "For the love of god, you're immortal! You have all the time in the world; you could spare a small portion of that to helping clear up this mess!"
"You're annoyed, I can see that," Charlotte pouted, and she clicked her fingers. Two glasses and a bottle of whiskey soared out from the drinks cabinet and settled on the table.
"You open them, I am down a hand," Adiem replied, raising his bandaged left hand.
"The girl or the boy?" Charlotte asked, waving her hands to make the bottle tilt and fill a glass.
"The boy." In a second, Adiem saw his face again: the anger burning in his eyes, the delight in his smile as he drove the knife through his hand, the screaming, the never ending screaming…
"What a little prick. So I take it he got to the orbs after all?"
"Yes," Adiem replied curtly, grabbing his glass and swallowing the chocolate coloured liquid in one. It burnt his throat, his eyes watered, but the rush through his system dulled his pain and silenced his memories. He wanted to stay annoyed with Charlotte for making him wait so long, but now that she was here, Arnold finally had someone he could talk to. It was depressing in a way, that Charlotte was the only true companion he had left that could distract him from the horrors of the world, but that was a thought for another time, another drink.
"And is he dead?"
"No." The glass was refilled, and Adiem downed it again. This time, he wanted to forget; forget the failure, the crushing knowledge that he had failed after so many years… "Again."
"Steady soldier, I'm still on my first," Charlotte smirked, but she obliged, magically tipping the bottle and then clinking their glasses together.
"A toast? To what?" Charlotte paused, dwelling on the question with her glass hovering near her long dead lips. A moment passed, and they spread in a smile.
"The future, and all the possibilities it may hold," she replied, beaming, and the two fell silent as they sipped at their drinks.
"You should have been there," Adiem said finally. Even as he said the words, he knew the blame was ill placed, but he felt like placing it anyway. "I told you to do what you had to do. You could have stopped him, held him and Cynthia back, done something to stop them getting there."
"Arnold, you know as well as I do that my prophecies are set in stone – literally," Charlotte replied, eyebrow mockingly raised as she stared condescendingly down at him. "I try and I try and I try to change the future, but despite my many centuries alive, there have been few occasions where I have actually made a difference. Move the meeting, ban him from the island, rig the competition, shot him in the head – Viktor Fischer was going to touch the orbs whether we liked it or not and there was nothing we could have done to stop him. That's why I targeted him afterwards." Adiem looked up and shot her a quizzical look, but it quickly dawned on him.
"The weather machine?" He asked, and Charlotte winked.
"I slipped in while they were at dinner, jazzed it up a bit. The second all of Dialga and Palkia's knowledge flowed through him, I imagined he would try and change the world, and the first place he'd look would be his own creation. I made it powerful enough to cause a scene – psychotic maniacs are so predictable, especially in our world. All they want is someone to pay attention while they plot and scheme and blow everything up and holler 'KILL THEM ALL' at whoever will listen. Once it began, Viktor would wait until his audience would arrive, and then he hopefully would have spilt some secrets about what he saw in order to impress whoever showed up. And then once he tried to really end the world…" Charlotte tossed her glass upwards and let it fall to the carpet, where it shattered. "Boom."
"Boom," Adiem echoed. The explosion had been visible across all of Sunyshore, the burning library illuminating every inch of the maze like city. He would never forget the image he saw when he arrived: half of the three storey building collapsed into one, thousands of books burning like the world's biggest bonfire amongst it, The Square glowing like the depths of hell. And there, at the foot of the stairs, Gabite sat on the head of a Luxray statue, Cynthia lying unconscious at his feet. The Cave Pokémon had looked up as Adiem arrived and gave him a look so intense and hate filled that those narrowed eyes would never leave his nightmares.
"Is the boy dead or not?" Charlotte asked, twirling her finger so the glass reformed sans whiskey. Adiem looked up at her and shrugged, shutting down his memories once again.
"The girl suffered burns; her skin was all red and black from the smoke. If she hadn't gotten medical treatment as quickly as she had, she would have died within the hour. But the boy… no sign of him, no signs of either of his Pokemon… just a lot of burnt books." The words hung in the air between them, and Adiem took a touch of pleasure in noting how dejected Charlotte looked. Normally so pleased, so cocky, so all knowing; it was about time she was made to feel human.
"I will hunt for him as best as I can, but there is no telling what he will do next or where he will go," Charlotte said, putting her glass down and turning to face him. "But that's what you wanted, isn't it?"
"Excuse me?" Charlotte flashed him a smile, and Adiem asked himself why she had chosen tonight to show up, three days after the event; he had presumed she was busy, but the way the conversation had turned, it seemed like something else was about to happen.
"Ever since I told you about Viktor, you have wanted to see what would happen if he succeeded. Deny it if you want, but I have kind of been expecting this all along. You never wanted me to kill him, you refused to cancel the competition, you kept the meeting time the same –"
"You have no idea what you are on about!" Arnold snapped. "You know very well why I could not cancel the tournament or –"
"Fine, that had to go ahead, but what else did you do to stop things? Where there any guards posted at the doors to your meeting? Did you send someone with the right skills to get Viktor after he got his powers, or did you send the one person he truly cares about, the one person who would never hurt him intentionally despite how much she hates him?" Her words rained down on him like fists, and Adiem was too shocked, too taken aback to respond, letting Charlotte smirk above him uninterrupted.
"You and Carolina… you have to pretend to be staunch, afraid of what will happen if all your secrets get out. But you want the world to know what all your dirty little secrets. I know you, Adiem, and you are still the same boy I met on Coronet back in 1945; curious, insatiable, always looking for answers, always asking what next, what now? You're always thinking one step ahead; you always have things plotted out for every eventuality, that's how your little media empire was able to rise through the ranks so quickly. Yet, for some reason, you weren't able to stop one boy who lives on the opposite side of the region from touching two orbs that have been in your protection longer than he has been alive. And maybe your empire is to blame. You had to kill Christopher after he touched them, and the good doctor vanished without a trace, but Viktor got away. And who better to track his movements, who better to see what he does with his knowledge and his power, then the man with a thousand journalists and reporters at his disposal, tracking every strange occurrence across the globe…"
"NOW WAIT JUST A MINUTE!" Adiem roared, but Charlotte had gone. Her glass lay on its side, still rolling from where it had been knocked over. Her disappearance was a further blow, as though she had kicked him in the stomach as well as tear about his very being. Adiem stared blankly at the space she had vacated. He knew why she had done it; she knew she was right, and was not going to give him the chance to fight back in an argument he would have already lost.
Pained, exhausted and defeated, Arnold fell back into his seat. For a moment it tilted violently backwards, and he indulged in a brief fantasy of him falling out the window and plunging the endless storeys to his doom. A quick, painless death, Mr Adiem thought as the seat steadied itself, imagining what a relief that would be.
He remembered the moment the thunder had sounded. He and Cynthia had exchanged a look then. It had been brief, only lasting a few seconds, but it had felt like more; Arnold could remember the way she had stared at him, trying to read his thoughts through his emotions, and he had wondered then if she knew it was his entire fault.
Adiem had told himself for months he was doing everything in his power to stop Viktor, that the boy would never touch the orbs as long as he protected them. He could have stopped this; cancelling the tournament, having Viktor killed sooner; posting guards outside the room. Arnold had never believed it would happen right up until the moment Viktor and Cynthia stepped through the door. Even then, he could have commanded Salamence earlier, ordered the Hyper Beam before the children could gather themselves. But something had held him back, held him back until it was too late to change course…
The power… after all these years, that mysterious power, always so far away even when it sat a few metres from him, had finally consumed him. He had so many questions that were still unanswered after all these years. If one person touched the orbs, if one person touched them and lived, then the mysteries that had led him to Mount Coronet forty years ago would finally be answered…
Mr Adiem turned and faced the window once more, this time staring at the spider-web crack left by his outburst the other week. He had told himself then that it was behind him, tricked himself into thinking that the orbs did not and would not consume his life anymore; he thought he had accepted the inevitable, dreadful position he had put himself in as a teenager, and had readied himself to end the life of a child. But the orbs had won out in the end… the orbs always won.
Arnold Adiem stood by that window for the rest of the night, face resting against the glass so that his tears streamed down its surface.
Cynthia awoke with a jolt.
All she could remember was fire. In her last seconds of consciousness, Cynthia could remember screaming and she could remember her flesh burning, but nothing else. She appeared to be alive, but that was impossible. Where was Gabite? Where was Viktor? Where were Castform and Volkner and Flint and her grandmother and Feebas and Adiem and Magikarp and Joan and Tiffany and… and… and…
"Breathe, Cynthia, you need to relax." Two hands firmly grasped her shoulders and pushed her squirming body back onto the bed. "You are in hospital, you are going to live, but you had serious burns and you need to relax."
The tone, that condescending tone, the sneer in the voice; Cynthia stared up at her grandmother as she forced her to lie down, a look of loathing etched into her sagging skin. She raised her arms in order to push her away, but something grabbed her wrist. She turned, angry, but Gabite quelled her temper with a simple look, that look she knew all too well, and Cynthia nodded and relaxed, knowing everything was going to be alright…
She awoke later, quieter and calmer. Her room was glowing orange. For a second, Cynthia thought of the flames again, but she tilted her head to the left and saw the window, the fading sunlight shining through. There was a grunt, and Gabite leaned into her line of vision, his face sullen as always but there was relief in his eyes.
"Hi….," Cynthia croaked, but the simple syllable was enough to make her cough. A glass of water was quickly thrust into her hand, and Cynthia gulped it down and quenched the fit before it started. She smiled wordlessly at her helper, but her face sunk when she realised once again it was her grandmother.
"Your welcome," Carolina snarked as she sat back down, a slight smirk on her face. "You must be feeling better if you're already disgusted at the sight of me."
"Why… are you… here?"
"You nearly died, Cynthia, I was not going to go back to Celestic Town and leave you to fight for your life on your own. Well, not quite alone, but I don't imagine Gabite are particularly graceful caregivers, are they?" She added, and Gabite grunted in retort. Cynthia raised an eyebrow, wondering what Carolina meant about going back to Celestic – and then it all came back to her. Viktor, Carolina, Arnold Adiem, the explosion, the lights, the screaming, Feebas, running, the boat, Gabite, Viktor, Castform, Magikarp, fire, and hatred, an undeniable, unavoidable hatred…
"Breathe," Carolina said sternly as a beeping noise filled the air. Cynthia looked and saw a heart monitor beside her bed, the large, chunky device ringing shrilly as her heart rate danced across the screen. "You went through a lot, but it is over now, you can begin to recover."
"How long… have I been… asleep?"
"Three days. We thought for a while that you might have damaged your brain in the fall, but the scans show no damage. I presume that Gabite must have caught you before you hit the ground floor; it's the only way you could have survived." Cynthia faced her Pokémon again, and despite his grim exterior, Gabite's lips curled in a sort of smile.
"Thank… you…," Cynthia groaned, and the Cave Pokémon nodded in acceptance. As he nodded, a thought suddenly occurred to her, and Cynthia frantically looked back around to her grandmother.
"Where is… Viktor?" Carolina frowned, her eyes narrowed. "WHERE IS HE?!"
"We have no idea. There have been men scouring that site for the past three days, and there is no sign anywhere in the life of human, alive or dead. There is a lot of ash and rubble covering the floor, but the fire was stopped before it could have burnt his body, and if he was there, we would have found him."
Cynthia tried shutting her eyes, hoping it would block out the pain, but faint memories of those last moments in the library came rushing back to her, too unbearable and too painful to remember. Instead, she looked at the ceiling, focussing on its plainness, its whiteness, avoiding the truth for as long as she could.
But even that wouldn't stop her mind going into overdrive. If Viktor was still there, then Gyarados would be as well, and if there was no sign of a giant blue serpentine water monster, then Viktor was long gone. Where was he now? How injured was he, physically and mentally? Did he still have those faint powers from the orbs? What state were Castform and Gyarados in? She knew Viktor was capable of doing everything he had threatened – the big question now was just how and when he would make his next move.
"This is your fault." She turned and looked at Carolina, hatred coursing through her body. "I saw you, watching Glory arrive; you knew we were coming and what we wanted. If you knew the orbs were so dangerous, you should have tried harder to stop us, you could have prevented all of this!" Carolina stared incredulously but silently back at Cynthia for a few moments, letting her words wash over her, and Cynthia glowered at her, daring her grandmother to respond, daring her to belittle her, mock her, condescend her; she was ready for it now, she was ready to tell the old bitch exactly where to shove it.
"You are right, in a way," Carolina purred back simply, her dark eyes narrowed as she stared back at her granddaughter. "I knew something would happen when I found out the book was not as protected as I had first thought, and when Arnold warned me about you and the boy, part of me knew you had to be stopped. But the other side, the scientific side of me, it wanted to see just how far you could go… it wanted to see what would happen if you succeeded. Of course, I realised what a mistake we had made after the fact, but even now, I want to know where the boy is… I want to know what he learnt…"
"YOU'RE SICK!" Cynthia yelled, and Gabite reared up beside her, his body tensing. "You knew what we were doing was wrong, and you… you… you just let us waltz in, practically daring Viktor to touch the orbs…"
"Oh, come now, Cynthia, don't be so petty!" Carolina snarled, the moment of compassion and honesty fading. "You knew perfectly well what you were doing at the time; if we had tried to stop you, it only would have pushed you harder to get to the orbs and we merely would have delayed the unavoidable. You do not realise the grander workings at play in this situation, forces a lot more powerful than you are involved here, and –"
"Oh yes, here we go!" Cynthia laughed, the anger dulling the pain in her throat. "I knew we would get here soon enough; you, the high and mighty mistress of knowledge, the one with all the answers, and me, your stupid, silly little granddaughter who you must hide all this from!"
"You are stupid if you think that you should have been involved in any of this!" Carolina roared, getting to her feet and looming over Cynthia. "You are twelve, for goodness sake child! These orbs are two of the most powerful but unknown devices in our world, and you think I should have told you about them over breakfast? There are secrets I have been sworn to keep, and I have been trying to keep them for the majority of my adult life, but you believe yourself worthy of being a part of these mysteries? You stupid, foolish little girl! The world is a much bigger place than Celestic Town or Sunyshore City, there is a lot more to it than just you or me or our relationship and what you think you are owed in life. I love you and care for you, but you have always been an arrogant, demanding child with the highest expectations of anyone I have ever known, and you let your vision of the world rule your life to the point of no return. Viktor is alive, he is somewhere out there with information no person is supposed to have, and you must accept that, while I must and will accept some of the blame, the fault is entirely yours!"
"GABITE GA!" Carolina fell silent as Gabite stepped forwards, hands glowing red and fire dancing in his eyes. He was poised ready to attack, and Carolina quivered under the weight of his glare. With a final look at Cynthia, she turned and marched out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind her. As soon as she had left, Gabite relaxed, lowering his arms and turning cautiously towards Cynthia.
But she could not look him. She could not face anyone anymore. Cynthia rolled onto her side, angry, upset, hurt, but above all else more aware than ever of what she had done. She wanted to hate her grandmother, to let her words fade away unable to hurt her, but there was no ignoring Carolina now. Cynthia stared at the fading square of light shining through her window, watching as night fell across Sunyshore, and she simply stared, the pain, the guilt, the truth too much to bare thinking about anymore.
They arranged to meet at dusk.
Minerva was sweating by the time she reached the boulder. The sun had been high when she had left home, and though it was nearly night fall, the long walk in the suffering heat had been suffocating. It was not helped by her heavy bag weighing her down, a combination of cheap plastic straps and too many contents rubbing her shoulders and back raw. Even as she had thrown all her worldly possessions into it, Minerva had known it was not the right thing to bring on a journey across Sinnoh, but he had not given her much time, and with her parents unable to know, her tiny school bag had been her only option.
Her feet ached as well. Minerva had only ever been this far out of the city by car; she had never imagined how long it would take to travel on foot. She had been in awe at first, marvelling at how the towering pillars of rock had shortened the further she walked, shooting back into the ground until they eventually disappeared. Long grass that danced in the wind replaced it on either side of the battered road, and Minerva had marvelled at these new sites at first, thinking of how many she would experience on her trip, but the longer she walked the more her feet hurt, the less the views seemed appealing.
Finally, after what felt like hours, she reached her destination. The large, smooth rock stood out in the plains that bordered Sunyshore, like a pimple on an otherwise unmarked face. Minerva sighed and sank against its surface, collapsing in a tired heap and staring back at the city she had just left. The sun was falling below the far off mountains to the west, casting a pale orange hue like a dying fire across the sky. The lower levels of Sunyshore were cast in darkness, while the cliff top houses soaked up the last minutes of fading light. Minerva knew her parents would be one of those people, perhaps beginning to wonder where she was, their fear increasing the lower the sun sank, not realising that they would never see their eldest daughter again.
This is the right thing to do, isn't it? Minerva had been asking herself this all day, ever since the note had appeared by her window. She had packed quickly and prepared for her departure, but her initial excitement had since fluctuated all day, fear and doubt creeping into her thoughts. She looked around; there were no people, no Pokemon, nothing except for tall grass dying in the summer heat and the odd house left to rot for eternity in these barren plains. There is still time, I could go back if I want to, Minerva told herself, and already she wondered what lie to tell her parents when she finally walked back through the door.
"Hello Minerva."
She leapt back to her feet and spun around. Viktor sat atop the boulder, staring beadily down at her. The stories of the fire at the library had circulated throughout the city, rumours of what had happened and who was involved spreading like a disease amongst the scandalized tourists and gossip-hungry locals. However, Minerva and her family alone had been told by Joan and Peter that Viktor had been involved and was now missing. Minerva had been shocked, but unlike his grandparents, she knew that Viktor would not have died, that he would have escaped somehow. His note had confirmed it, and part of her had come her today just to see him again.
"You're not hurt," Minerva said blankly, unable to conjure up anything else to say.
"No, I'm not." Viktor slid down the stone so he towered over her, and Minerva felt a rush go through her body. It had only been a few days since the port, but he looked much older; something burned in his eyes as he stared at her, and his gaze made Minerva want to apologise for everything she had done this summer. She opened her mouth to speak, but Viktor silenced her with a finger.
"Did you bring supplies?"
"Yes, all here," she replied, tapping her bag, and Viktor nodded. He seemed to be both there and not there, his intense focus on Minerva beginning to feel as though he was simply looking right through her. Minerva felt intimidated, but was too breathless and tired to say anything. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you survive?"
"I must have moved through space after I fell," Viktor replied. "I don't remember doing it, but I woke up in these fields. Gyarados and Castform and the book were with me, so the voices in my head must have known what to do even if I didn't. The powers have gone now though, I cannot seem to use them anymore. It is a shame, but I have the book, and I have my knowledge."
"You moved… through space?" Minerva whispered.
"Yes, pay attention," Viktor snapped suddenly, his face quickly and briefly twisting with rage. Minerva stepped backwards in shock, but Viktor went back to normal and turned away, staring at the pathway ahead. "I need to leave this city, I will likely never return. I have gained a lot of knowledge recently, and it is now my duty to spread what I have learnt and find people who share my belief that these secrets that have been hidden from us must be protected. I need you to help me, Minerva; I cannot do it on my own." He suddenly spun around, his eyes wide and intense, and he grasped onto Minerva's shoulders.
"Haven't you ever felt like there is so much injustice in our world?" Viktor whispered. "What happened to my parents never should happened, and what happened to me over the last few months has all been the fault of those around me. I have to do everything in my power to stop this injustice from carrying on, and I need your help to do that."
He isn't making any sense, Minerva thought. She was beginning to regret coming here now, seeing how mad and unhinged her neighbour seemed to be. Something must have happened in the library, a knock to the head that had made him go crazy. Minerva was frightened and concerned; this was not the boy she had fantasized about for so long. Yet something had been nagging at her all day, and now that she stood here, listening to him ramble, Minerva finally worked out what it was.
"What about Cynthia?" The letter had been a pleasant surprise but a surprise all the same: why did he want her, the girl who had teased him, goaded him, mocked him, threatened him, why not Cynthia, the perfect, infallible, strong, courageous Cynthia who had waltzed into their lives and ruined everything? What wasn't she being asked to undertake a grand journey with him?
Viktor did not answer the question with words, but his face revealed everything. Minerva had to hold back a smile as she saw the anger in his eyes, watched as his lips twitched into a frown, the pain and betrayal shining through every feature; it was glorious to watch.
"Cynthia… she let me down when I needed her most," Viktor whispered, a quiet rage burning with every word. "She led me down this path, she led me towards the truth, and then realised that wasn't what she wanted in the end. I… I will not deny that it hurt, but Cynthia is behind me now. I will reveal the truth, whether she wants me to or not, and I need your help to do so. Will you come with now?"
Minerva paused, the answer seeming so obvious, but could she go through with it? She looked up at Viktor, he looked down at her, smiling so casually and perfectly. When the note arrived this morning, slipped through her open window, Minerva had been so overwhelmed to have been summoned like this, to know she was in Viktor's thoughts as much as he was in hers.
But there was no denying what had happened over the past weeks: his betrayal, breaking her window, their battle, all the nasty words he had thrown at her on the pier. All that had hurt Minerva so much, and even though she never thought him dead, part of her had been pleased to hear he and Cynthia had failed in whatever their grand schemes had been. She almost wanted to turn and leave him now, a final punishment for all he had put her through, for choosing Cynthia instead of him, for treating her like some stupid little school girl…
Yet, at the very end, he had chosen her. And that meant everything.
"Of course, Viktor. You know I would come with you." Viktor nodded, his smile widening. He reached inside a bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a book; its cover was burnt, but there was something imposing and powerful about it, and Minerva stared curiously at it.
"This book, it is the sole proof of what I want to tell the world, except for what is inside my head," Viktor explained, opening the thick, leather bound volume. "It is not from our world, but from another, a place that those fuelling the circle of injustice wish to keep secret. I can see why they do not want us to know about it, but I have enjoyed reading about it all the same. My favourite entry so far is about a place called Persia, ruled by kings for thousands of years." He smiled, a wide, cheerful, terrifying smile, and he looked down at Minerva as though she was prey. "I will be a king like them one day, and I will have a name worthy of a ruler." He slammed the book shut, shoved it inside his sack-like bag and hoisted it to his shoulder, still staring down at her. "Viktor Fischer is dead, my name is Cyrus now."
And as simply as that, the boy she thought she loved walked away, the last bit of sunlight hitting his greasy hair and make it shine. Minerva watched this new man walk away from her and briefly turned back to Sunyshore; there was still time to leave, she could walk away now and regret nothing. She had gotten the answer she wanted; she had bested Cynthia in the end; what more did she need?
A king needs a queen...
Minerva ran to catch up, and Cyrus smiled as he led her out of the city. He knew he would never return here. He knew he would not see Cynthia again for twenty five years. He knew the girl walking beside him would die soon after.
And knowing that felt glorious.
I won, I won, I finally won won won won won.
There is the final chapter, folks. Epilogue is up next and that will be the end! Hope the conclusion of the Adiem and Charlotte storyline was satisfying - a bit more on Cynthia and Viktor/Cyrus to come.