To call the journey uncomfortable would be putting it lightly…

In our hurry to leave I didn't really think about it before beyond strategy, but Grovyle, Dusknoir and myself as a trio is probably one of the worst combinations for a team anyone could possibly imagine. Not for lack of power or strength—in those terms we're a pretty good mix—but because of our history. I can hardly speak a word to Dusknoir without Ri around and he and Grovyle have next to no reason to get along together either. Even with whatever all happened between them in the future, they are far from being the best of pals.

What this results in is several hours of overwhelming, awkward silence throughout the length of the way to the Miracle Sea. What exactly are former arch enemies who were once trying to kill each other supposed to talk about? Hey, remember that time you tried to slowly and brutishly execute us? No? Well, remember that time we fired our strongest attacks into your vortex of a stomach? Sure, we have some good memories to share from the true future, but the others are stronger in our minds: The former are more like… stories you hear about yourself and know are true, like when you were a baby, but you don't remember them all that personally. There's a difference.

At least I have Marill and Azurill to talk to and distract me, or had for little while anyway. As sudden as it was, they were quick to come along, but where for the first few hours they were nothing but balls of unrivaled energy they're now curled together—taking a long and much needed nap. Now, with Dusknoir and Grovyle attending to their individual thoughts on opposite sides of Lapras' back, I'm left alone with mine. And they're eating me alive.

Why didn't Ri and I realize sooner that Manaphy was getting sick? We can use aura: We should've sensed that something was wrong. We had a responsibility to care for him and we couldn't even see just how badly he needed to be in a different environment.

Not to mention, as important as it is to find this medicine, I can't shake the feeling that I should be home with Ri and Manaphy. I know I couldn't do anything—I can't even use my aura to help heal people like Ri can—but what if something happens while we're gone? Part of me is worried and another part simply can't stand the thought of being this far away.

It's not just because of Manaphy being sick either if I'm completely honest with myself: Ever since coming back from the future, I've never done anything like this without Ri by my side. Sure, we'd split up while doing chores or on a couple of missions, but everything else we've always experienced together. I'm glad that at least he's there for Manaphy, but I can't help but feel anxious since he's not here with me.

Considering that it didn't take much convincing for Lapras to take us to the Miracle Sea, I think he gave me his Relic Fragment so I'd have a part of him with me rather than to talk her into the journey. He knew he could watch after our little guy and he knew I could handle this without him. He trusts that Dusknoir, Grovyle, and I can do this without fail. I only hope we can manage it, because if we don't find the Phione Dew and get home quick—

I shake my head and look out at the expanse of water glimmering in the evening sky. I don't even want to think about it.

It is when I notice how strange the water looks that I push myself up and scoot over for a closer inspection. It seems to glisten with an odd, golden light flickering across the surface of the sea and down into its depths. It's almost magical. Ri would love this… I can't help but think to myself in silence, It's so beautiful. Maybe someday in the future we can come back here and see this again. I draw my knees to my chest. Maybe we could bring Manaphy with us.

"You can thank the properties of the rocks within waters for that shimmer," Lapras says. I crane my neck upward to find her glancing back at me. "There are many rare stones you can find here."

It's all I can do to offer her a small smile, "Not that I'm surprised, but you sure know a lot about seafaring."

She gives a single nod, "My family line has served Dialga and the Guardians of Light for generations, but I was waiting for the Chosen Shield for quite some time. Even while I was told to stay near Brine Cave, I learned much about the waters on this side of the Grass Continent."

"Chosen Shield?" I echo, but then I remember something. Back in the future I read a book that talked about something like this. Each of the Guardians of Light is represented by something according to why they were chosen: The Sword, the Shield, the Torch, the Song, and the Eye. I represent the sword—the text clearly talked about the Dimensional Scream when it mentioned it—and Ri must represent the shield since he protects the various boundaries of realms as a gatekeeper with his Relic Fragment. I don't remember much about the other three.

"The stories are as old as time itself, but remembered only in fragments," she continues, "but I've always been told that one of my ancestors journeyed alongside the first Guardians of Light. And when their lives neared the end and it was time to prepare for the next generation of Guardians, they vowed to ferry them across the realms.

"We're here."

It looks like just another speck of the wide ocean to me, but I trust Lapras' sense of direction and stand with Dusknoir and Grovyle getting onto their own feet not a second after. I imagine that they've had plenty of time to mentality prepare themselves for some time now. Now it's time to get to work.

I lean down to gently stir the young boys awake, "Marill, Azurill, we've made it." It takes a minute to rouse them, but soon enough my prodding and the promise of food snags them out of dreamland and back to reality. I give them some berries and a couple of lava cookies to share with each other and not a moment after feel the wave of cold and lethargy as Azurill's torrent from Soak washes over Grovyle, Dusknoir, and me. The waters in the Miracle Sea are nowhere near as freezing as the ones in the Surrounded Sea as we each jump in, so that comes as a small grace.

"I'm not sure where you'll find the Phione," Lapras sighs, "so watch the seabed from above before drifting too far down. Try not to get swept in any currents either."

"Please be careful," Marill adds.

"Count on it." With the stakes as high as they are, there's no room for failure. Manaphy's life is depending on us.


The ocean is silent.

Maybe it's because of it being nightfall, but really we're too deep for the light of the world above to reach us anyway, so I don't know how anyone who lives here could tell. Either way, unlike in the Surrounded Sea, there's not a soul in sight. It feels like we're alone down here.

It's impossible to tell just how long as passed as she swim beneath the sea, but it must be awhile. It's long enough for me to hear Dusknoir and Grovyle start whispering behind me about turning back for the time being. I do what I can to ignore them: Until I feel the effects of Soak fading, I want to keep looking. We can't afford not to.

"It's been a long time already," Grovyle mutters, "We'll drown if we don't hurry back to the surface."

"That's if the water pressure doesn't kill us first," Dusknoir counters with that cold reminder. He has to know I'm listening, because he then calls after me, "Lira, if we die down here, it won't matter if we can get the Phione Dew or not."

"Why are you worried about dying anyway? You're a ghost." I know it doesn't actually work that way for Ghost-type Pokemon—they need to eat, sleep, and breathe just like anyone else—but teasing him like that is really the only way to save myself from losing whatever control I have over my nerves.

Of course the Gripper Pokemon just begins to berate me at that. No matter what it seems like I'll always have a gift for getting on his bad side. "You have a natural affinity for endangering your own life, don't you? With such recklessness, how in the world you managed to summon an army of rebels under your leadership is beyond me!"

I've already stopped bothering to listen, but as he continues to drone on I notice a sudden blur of motion in the distance. I'm not sure what kind of Pokemon it is and I can barely tell what it looks like with the way it camouflages with the landscape of the sea, but I focus in on its aura signature and start to follow it. Maybe it's because I'm so desperate to get that medicine… I actually think that their aura feels a little bit like Manaphy's.

With the way I take off, my teammates don't really get much of a choice except for chase after me. Though I can only trust my instincts, I have a good feeling about this. Moreover, I want more than anything right now to find someone who can help us. This is the first person we've seen down here and there's no chance I'm going to be picky.

As fast as they swim, it's a miracle that we can catch up. Eventually though, we find ourselves led to wide clearing along the seabed illuminated with vivid glow-rocks. We're far from alone here: Adding the Pokemon that we followed, there are eight Water-types all gathered around one another in a cluster of chatter. They appear to be singing, but while it's beautiful I can't make any sense of the words.

Seeing them all startles me in a way nothing else could though. At first I think they're all Manaphy's, but when I take another look I notice some subtle differences. For one thing they're a little smaller, and for another they have deep blue markings detailing their eyes and forehead instead of pale yellows ones. What's most distinguishable though is that they only have one antenna where Manaphy has two.

Could they be Phione? For a moment, all I can do is marvel at them. "Could that be a pre-evolution for Manaphy?" I ask in a whisper. I know some species of Pokemon, such as Azurill and Budew, that are only born as they are in certain conditions.

"It's hard to say," Dusknoir answers with a faint shrug, "but it's apparent that they're related somehow."

"In that case, maybe they'll be more inclined to help us," Grovyle rounds us both to take the first steps toward them.

A sudden, vicious roar piercing through the atmosphere halts all of us though before we have a chance to get near them. There's not even a moment to think of what's happening as a massive figure darts from the far right—any from the barrier that is a towering series of rock formations—and barrels straight for the group of Water-types. With a piercing shriek, they split apart to where the hulk of a Pokemon now looms over just one of them, and now I can make him out plain as day.

Out of all Pokemon that we could possibly have the unfortunate luck to run into, it's a Gyarados.

Years ago, when I was a little kid and Grovyle and I were on the run together, I remember having crossed the path of a Gyarados that worked for the resistance. He was easygoing, patient, wise… I really doubt he and this one are one in the same. This Gyarados has a greedy, malicious sneer that would make anyone want to recoil.

"I found you at last!" his voice booms with a loud, obnoxious chuckle. If he notices us behind him, he either doesn't notice or doesn't care. "You're the Phione, right? You make the cure-all? Phione Dew? Well, rejoice! From now on, you all answer to me! All Phione Dew belongs to me from now on!"

"Wonderful," Dusknoir groans with sarcasm dripping from that single word. He casts me a sidelong glance, "Nevermind a natural affinity for self-endangerment: You're all but a magnet for attracting these scenarios…"

Once again, I choose to ignore him. This would explain why we didn't see any other Pokemon on our way here though. Unless they're the sort to lead and care for a school of Magikarp, Gyarados are renowned everywhere for their horrific and fearsome natures. This one though… He's just a bully, and Arceus knows I won't stand idly by and let him have his way.

Placing my hands on my hips, I move forward and raise my own voice to a shout, "You know, we're all trying to take you seriously, but it's a little hard to with that massive underbite you've got."

That certainly catches his attention. With the way he jerks his head in my direction and glowers down at me, I should probably feel more that I do. "Oh? Now who might you be?" he practically spits, "You look like you've got a bone to pick with me, missy, but you're about a million years too early to pick a fight with me!"

Even if I felt an ounce of feel for him, I am a mother with a desperately sick child and no patience whatever, and he is standing in my way. "Well, if you're that much a geezer, then you should know to pick on someone your own size!" I curl my hand tightly into fists and shift my feet along the rocks, "You want a fight? Bring it!"

He growls dangerously, "You'll regret not running away while you could! No mercy for meddlers!" With a fierce cry, he rears his head back and a harsh light begins to build within the confines of his jaws. Hyper Beam. It is with no small amount of effort that I through myself out of range of the attack—Grovyle and Dusknoir also managing to veer out of the way just in the nick of time. He's strong alright, but nothing that any of us haven't faced before.

"Remember that he's a Water and Flying-type. Fighting-type moves will be weak against him," the Tree Gecko reminds me.

"Right," I grimace, "Of course they are…" Fighting-type moves are one of my strongest points and even if I had fully mastered Bite by now I doubt there's any way I could use it in this situation. I need to find an opening.

Dusknoir takes the lead, his fist crackling in a haze of electric sparks and bubbles far more powerfully than it would normally—this environment acting as the perfect conductor to all that energy. The difference in size doesn't mean a thing as he drives the attack right into Gyarados' abdomen—and where most of my moves are weak against the latter, his deal double the damage.

The sparks seem to race away from him and trail across Gyarados' body from all over as the Atrocious Pokemon howls in pain and rage. Curling his mouth in a wicked leer, he swiftly lashed out at Dusknoir with a powerful Aqua Tail that send the Ghost-type flying past us.

That's it though: There's my opening. Without any hesitation, I leap onto Gyarados' tail and race up it and along the path of his back—knife-handing the layer of flesh between armored plates as I move with my aura amplifying the blows—until I reach the back of his head. Then, I use Quick Attack to drive my foot against his skull.

Grovyle quickly takes to my idea and uses it for his own, trailing up Gyarados' form just as I had only instead using Leaf Blade to make quick, precise cuts along his body. The instant isn't long-lived though as the latter uses Twister to hurl us both away from him in a spiraling vortex. I cry out as I'm sent flying, thankful that we're in the water or else I can't imagine how harsh the landing would actually be as my back slams into the ground—spurting up a rupture of sand all around me.

The rush of water moving past me warns me ahead of time as Gyarados uses Aqua Tail once more in attempts to flatten me to the ground: I manage to jump away right as it comes crashing down and fire an Aura Sphere right where his head should be to give me time to maneuver around him. His tails swing for me a second time, and I duck low as I race to rejoin my companions at their side—but of course none of us are as fast as Water-types in their own element.

A haze of shining pellets fly overhead next as Grovyle uses Bullet Seed to cover me. It's just enough of a distraction that I can lunge a safe distance away and take a few seconds to try to think of some kind of plan. And feel a distinctive feeling in my chest like a needle pressed against my lungs. We're running out of time.

Dusknoir moves past me and uses Thunder Punch once more against the giant. This time the latter actually reels back from the blow, so I know we're wearing him out: We just need to hang on for a little bit longer.

His fangs begin to crackle with a bright, white energy that I recognize from his earlier attack: His thinking about using Hyper Beam again. We got lucky the first time, but I'm not so sure that he'll miss this next round. And it'll be lights out for anyone who gets struck by that attack. Even with the amount of time he'll need to recover from using it, I also know that he'll still have enough stamina to keep fighting. So what can we do when really logical way he could be taken down is if we could turn that fire power against himself.

My eyes widen. I shoot my gaze over to the Grass-type, "Grovyle! Get behind me! I need you on defense!"

He shoots me a look, but doesn't question it—which is good, because he probably won't like what I'm planning anyway. He jumps into position without a word and readies an Energy Ball into the palm of his hand. I watch on as Dusknoir lands another hit only to be subsequently knocked away just as he had been the first time, and that's when I make my move: I fire another Aura Sphere. Not a powerful one, but one that should definitely get his attention.

I know I couldn't do it again if I tried as it strikes the Atrocious Pokemon clean on his snout. He snarls down at me with a vengeance and I clasp an arm around my chest. Let him think I'm hurt. Let him think I'm the weak link. I glare back up at him, Aim for me, big guy. Just like I want you to…

He does exactly what I hoped he would, stretching his gaping maw open once again to use Hyper Beam. Grovyle fires his Energy Ball to keep Gyarados a certain distance from me, then he's pulling at my arm to try to drag me away. I hold my feet firm against the ground though, pushing his away and bracing myself to Endure the attack.

Grovyle's timing with his own shot makes it so I don't have to face the attack at full force, but the aim is true enough that I still scream from the searing energy washing over me before I can grit my teeth. My legs shake unsteadily as the force behind the blast threatens to knock me back.

Copycat…

Even hanging onto consciousness by a thread, I notice the white light that consumes me and see the play-by-play of the move within my mind's eye. My arms move on their own accord, my hands placed wider apart than they normally would be when I summon an Aura Sphere, as I feel a swell of energy gather in them from both myself and the surrounding environment.

It feels like, no sooner have I gathered it, it leaves my hands in a blinding flash—the recoil enough to throw me in the opposite direction. For however off my aim may be thanks to this, the closeness and size of my opponent easily compensates. There's no way for Gyarados to dodge the taste of his own medicine tosses right back at him. He howls in furious agony as it hits and then, stumbling, finally crashes to the earth himself with a thunderous rumble as a wave of sand kicks up and blankets over the area.

The pressure in my chest is building. More than that though, I can't move. I'm used to channeling my life energy for attacks several times over, but that wasn't like anything I've ever done before. That kind of power wasn't meant to be controlled: It just explodes out of you until you don't have an ounce of energy left to spend.

Grovyle races the short distance back over to me, pulling me up from underneath my arms and hovering around not just to keep me standing, but to make sure Gyarados won't lash out another attack as he raises his head with a tired groan and glares at us.

"Gah!" He moans, faltering as he starts to pick himself back up, "Don't… Don't you ever forget this!" His eyes burn hatefully, but there's a gleam in them that he won't try anything further. Whatever advantage he thought he had, he now knows that we're not exactly ones to be trifled with either. And just like that, in a maddened dash, he shuffles awkwardly off of the ground and dives into the distance without a trace. With all luck, hopefully he won't be coming back.

"Do I even need to mention how risky that was?" Grovyle mumbles near my ear.

"You can if you want," I sigh, "That is if I can stay awake long enough for a lecture." My entire body is already screaming at me for that stunt, but something else concerns me more: Our breathing—all three of us—has grown labored. I know it's not just from the fight. Soak is wearing off and the effects are getting worse.

The Phione still seem shell-shocked over what happened, but soon enough they all begin to cheer in their mix of words that I care barely make sense of. Finally though, I do hear a few cries in our own language. "Oh! Very good!" exclaims one that I believe to be a young girl as she swims closer to us, "Very good! Very good!"

I quickly notice the small, golden box held within her hands as she crosses the rest of the way over to us-holding it out to me. It's more on wishful thinking, but I already know what it is as she places it within my hands and I clumsily unfasten the clasp of the container. Inside is a vial of a shimmering aqua mixture that can only be the Phione Dew.

"This is our thank you!" she beams.

However, I struggle to show my gratitude in return. My chest is burning now and all of my body hurts. Grovyle's arms slip away from me and I notice even Dusknoir struggling to hold himself up. We have to swim up: We have to get to the surface now!

I can't even manage to say anything, but I use my aura and that's all it takes to tell them just how badly we need help. In an instant, the Phione swarm over us. With the box in tow two of them grab ahead of me, a pair grab Grovyle, and four of them grab Dusknoir. Then we're soaring at a breakneck pace—up, up, and up, back to the surface of the ocean. Back to fresh air, back to Lapras and the others, and back home at last.