A/N: And we're caught up! Chapter 30 will go up when I'm finished with 32 (likely on the 27th or 28th). Merry Christmas, everyone. Have fun and stay safe.

Not too much to say about the chapter, other than that it prods the fic in the right direction to be answering some burning questions that have been hanging around for twenty-odd chapters. XD


Chapter Twenty-Nine

It's a Troublesome Life

They landed in Slateport about fifty minutes later by Ren's estimate. As the engines powered down, Skyla's voice came crackling over the intercom again. "Bing-bong!" she said cheerily. "We have now arrived in Slateport City! I hope you had a pleasant flight, and you're not too deaf right now. In hindsight, I probably should have given you earmuffs. Sorry about that! Anyway, once the engines have shut off completely, please open the door you entered by. Someone should throw some stairs up there for you, I hope."

"She really is kind of . . ." Karl started, but trailed off with a helpless shrug.

"What's that?" Ren said with a frown. "I think I've gone deaf!"

Karl laughed. "Very funny. Now come on, help me out of this frigging seatbelt."

Ren struggled with his own first, unbuckling all of the many parts that had seemed so simple to clip together in the first place. By the time he could stand up, Karl was all but free as well.

"I got stuck in an Ariados web in Johto once," Ren commented as he watched Karl fighting to undo the rest of the clips. "It was easier to get out of than these things."

"You could've helped," Karl grunted as he finally extricated himself from his seat and made his way over to the door, tugging on the lever and shoving it open. He wobbled, almost overbalancing, but regained his footing and turned back to Ren. "Well . . . I guess this is it," he said as the large hatch at the back of the plane cranked open, admitting a couple of overall-wearing men who started untying some of the crates towards the rear and lugging them away.

"You're right," Ren said, glancing out the door as a man in a Day-Glo jacket pushed a wheeled staircase up towards it. "Hey, Karl . . . thanks. For showing me around the carnival and all that, I mean. I had more fun yesterday than I've had in a long time."

"Even when someone tried to ruin it by stealing our Pokémon?" Karl asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Especially when that happened," Ren said. "That was actually fun, too!"

"For some of us, maybe," Karl grumbled. "I was worrying my ass off back at the stage. Your Pokémon didn't even get stolen!"

"Yeah, but she sure thought they did," Ren said, chuckling as he remembered the thief's reaction. "I wish you could have seen her face."

"Oh, I'll see it someday," Karl said darkly. "I'll get you to point her out to me, and I'll punch her in the face for trying to steal Scar and Sableye."

"Oh, lighten up," Ren said, slapping the older boy on the shoulder. "All's well that ends well, right?"

"Whatever," Karl said. "But I'm not going to give up on getting her back. Anyway, this is where we go our separate ways, Champ. It was good to meet you." He reached his hand out as if he was going to shake Ren's, but evidently thought better of it, clenching his hand into a fist instead.

Ren grinned and bumped his own fist against Karl's. When was the last time I had someone to do that with? he thought, a sudden twinge of an unfamiliar feeling running through him. He let his hand fall slowly, looking at Karl's surly face one last time before he turned to head down the stairs.

The wind snatched at him as soon as he exited the door, forcing him to grab onto the handrail. A few steps down, he turned to look back up to the door. "Hey, Karl?" he said, raising his voice slightly over the wind.

"Yeah?"

"You go to Unova, and you catch that Absol, all right?"

"Of course I will," Karl said.

"Then you come back here, all right? Take your time, but come back to Hoenn. Start your Gym up in Fallarbor, and as soon as you get officially registered, you give me a call, okay? I want to be the first person to win a Gym Badge off you. No matter how long it takes you, I'm gonna be the first one through the doors."

"Deal," Karl said, grinning genuinely. "But don't count on winning! You've got a head start on me, but I'll pass you!"

"It's a promise," Ren said, then turned to carry on down the stairs. At the bottom, he turned and waved as Karl yanked the door shut again. Looking up to his right, he could just make out Skyla in the cockpit. She threw him a quick salute, which he returned. Turning, he made his way to the terminal gate.

Slateport was a very different city to Fortree, he reflected idly as he left the airport. Situated on the outskirts of town as it was, the airport road gave him a good view of the city, with its forest of glistening silver spires puncutated only occasionally by greenery and colour.

It was still relatively early in the morning – not quite eight thirty – when he left the airport, so he decided to walk home. It would have been faster to take a bus or taxi, of course, but he felt the need to walk a little to get his thoughts back in order. Back in the warmer temperatures of Slateport, he was grateful of the T-shirt he'd packed the previous morning. He would have been sweating by now had he been wearing the bulkier shirt he'd worn the previous day.

There was no footpath on the motorway into the city, so he deviated slightly and took a back way – a hiking path he, Tim and Cole had discovered seven years earlier that ran roughly parallel to the highway. It was cooler amongst the trees, although it was still a totally different feeling to Fortree. For one thing, the sounds of vehicles streaming by on the road less than a hundred metres away ruined the illusion. Still, the woodlands – such as they were – were fresh and relaxing after the cacophony of Skyla's cargo plane.

Struck by a sudden thought, he stopped and peered up through the trees, back in the direction of the airport. He couldn't see Skyla's plane, though; either it had gone already, or it was still grounded. He wondered if he would see the Gym Leader again. He'd liked Skyla. She was . . . bubbly. There were few enough bubbly people in his life, so Skyla had been a refreshing change.

Cecilia doesn't count, he thought with a tinge of bitterness that surprised him. Somehow, the world of dreams and its inhabitants seemed to be even further removed from reality than they actually were. It was like they existed only in his head, and they seemed to entrench themselves deeper in there every day. Every time the spirits crossed his mind, he realised again just how alien they would be to anybody he mentioned them to. It really was like they existed for him and nobody else.

Well, I guess they might as well, he told himself wryly. You can't tell anybody else about them. Imagine what would happen if all this got out. Someone could steal the Dreamlight, or try and study it. Someone who doesn't deserve it could end up with it . . .

I need to stop dwelling on this, he chastised himself wryly.

He elected to go through the centre of Slateport City for the first time in quite a while. Unlike the last time that he had passed through town, he kept his head up and didn't try to avoid people. While he still wasn't entirely comfortable with being an accessible public figure, he had been thinking back on Steven's advice and realised that it wasn't going to get any easier.

So he gritted his teeth and walked through Slateport's CBD, concentrating on the sights of the city that he'd hardly seen for the past five years. Some things had changed, while others hadn't. The cafe on the corner of 5th and Main was still going strong by the looks of things; today's special was apparently a Magikarp Sundae, whatever that was. His favourite bistro on 6th was gone, though.

"Bugger," he murmured as he stood outside what was now a fashion boutique. He glanced at the shops on either side just to make sure he was in the right place, but there was no mistaking it. Geraldo's was gone.

He'd had his tenth birthday there almost five years ago. His dad had flown in from Unova just for the occasion, and his aunts and uncles and cousins had all turned up too. The staff had noticed the air of festivity and made a fuss of him, and all in all, it had been the best birthday of his life.

"Remember this place, buddy?" he said quietly, tapping the release switch on Zangoose's Poke Ball. The Pokémon looked swiftly around the crowded street as if expecting a threat, but Ren just laughed softly and waited for the realisation to hit.

He hadn't been expecting an overly emotional response from Zangoose, so it came as something of a surprise when the Normal-type reached up and put a clawed paw on his hand, looking up into his eyes with an unnaturally soft expression.

Yes, the place held memories for them both. The birthday dinner had not only been a birthday party, it had been a celebration of Ren's imminent departure to become a Pokémon Trainer. At the height of the evening, Ren's father had proudly presented him with a single Poke Ball, thus setting into motion a chain of events that had reached far beyond what any of those present could have imagined. That night had been when his life had truly begun.

He thought back for a moment to the times when he didn't have Zangoose with him. It shocked him to realise how empty his life had seemed in comparison. Even though his partner had been caustic at first – and admittedly, still remained abrasive and violent – they had grown up together. Zangoose had only been young when Ren's father had captured him, so the two had gone through their formative years together. Ren had achieved more in five years than he had ever dreamt possible, and he had done it all with Zangoose by his side. It was a sobering thought, really.

"Ooh, it really is him!"

"Seriously? No way!"

"Look, he's even got the Zangoose! See?"

"Go talk to him, then! Go on!"

"He seems busy . . ."

Ren tilted his head back and sighed lightly before turning to see who was talking behind him. Two girls about his own age were standing a few feet away on the pavement, clearly trying to talk without him noticing. He cocked an eyebrow at them expectantly. "Can I help you two with something?" he asked.

You sound like a douche, his subconscious told him with quiet glee.

"Um . . ." said one of the girls, approaching him cautiously with her friend in tow. She was short and blonde, wearing a red tank top. "Are you . . . Ren Goodwin? The new Champion?"

"That's me," he said, making sure to smile. He didn't really want to come off as arrogant.

"Wow, that's . . ." she breathed, seemingly unable to find anything else to say.

"I went to Ever Grande to watch the League!" the other girl said, stepping out from behind her friend. She was a little taller, with long brown hair and a nervously toothy smile. "I was in the crowd when you battled Steven!"

"Ah, that's great!" Ren said, glad to have found some familiar territory that probably wouldn't cause him to make an ass of himself. Hopefully. "I was kind of overwhelmed by how many people turned up, actually. I didn't realise it was such a big deal to so many people!"

"Well, uh, I don't normally go, but I'd heard that the guy who won the Conference was from Slateport, so I got a bunch of us together and went along to support him – I mean, you."

"Ah!" Ren said, snapping his fingers as he remembered something. "Was that you guys in the crowd at the final match with the big red 'SLATEPORT REPRESENT' banner?"

"Yes!" the brunette squeaked. "Yes, we made that for you! I can't believe you actually saw it!"

"Are you kidding? It was great to see that up in the stands," Ren said. "It really helped me calm down, actually. I was so nervous when I went out for that battle, and seeing some hometown support was . . . something really special, actually. So thanks for that."

"I told you that you should have come," the brunette said slyly to her friend. Neither of them seemed to have anything else to say, so Ren tried again.

"Well, thanks for coming along. The number of people there was amazing, and to be honest, I don't think it's really sunk in yet how big it is." What's this? he thought absently. I'm actually talking to fans – holy crap, I have fans – without stumbling or running away? Since when could I do that?

"Well, uh, congratulations!" said the blonde, sounding even more uncomfortable than Ren was feeling. "Hey, uh, I know you're probably busy, but . . . do you think you could, like, sign my Poke Ball or something?"

"Yeah, I can do that," Ren said, a strange sort of pride rising in his chest. "I don't think anyone's asked me to sign anything before, though. Much less a Poke Ball."

"I-if that's too weird, I think I have a book in here or something!" the blonde said, digging through her bag.

"No, that's fine," Ren said, raising a hand to stop her. "Is there a Pokémon in here?" he asked as she handed him a red and white sphere.

"Yes, it's my Zigzagoon," she told him.

"Can I see it?" he asked on the spur of the moment.

"O-of course!" she said.

Ren went to push the button on the ball, but he paused before he did. "You know, I can't believe I forgot to ask your names," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm Aura," she said. "And this is Kelsey," she added, gesturing to the brunette.

"Nice to meet you," he said. "Now, let's see what your Pokémon looks like."

"It's not very strong," Aura said hastily, reaching out a hand as if to stop him, but then snatching it back quickly. "Nothing like what you're used to at all, of course!"

"That's not necessarily true," Ren said, releasing the Pokémon and crouching down to examine it. The furry Normal-type with its spiky brown coat eyed him warily, scooting backwards to hide behind Aura's legs. "Every Pokémon has its own distinctive kind of strength. While some may be more powerful than others, each will shine in its own way. You just have to find that one place where it excels and capitalise on that."

"Wow," Aura breathed. "That's . . ."

"Impressive," Kelsey finished. "Do all Champions, like, talk like that?"

"Like what?" Ren asked, tilting his head upwards to look at her.

"Well, as soon as you started talking about Pokémon, you got kind of distant," she said. "Like you weren't really there."

"Well, I guess it's kind of natural," Ren said. "Most people act a bit weird when they talk about something they're really into. As a Champion, it's expected that that 'something' is Pokémon. But anyway, Aura's Zigzagoon here . . . well, you're right. It doesn't seem to be all that strong to begin with. But there's a high level of trust there as well. It seems that it's likely mistrustful of everybody but you, which can be a plus or a minus depending on how you work it. I'd actually suggest getting it more used to other people, because I can tell it doesn't spend a lot of time outside it's Poke Ball. Start with your friends, people you trust. People like Kelsey here. That way, you should be able to take steps towards making it more confident. Confidence wins more battles than strength sometimes."

"Seriously?" Aura said as he straightened up, returning Zigzagoon to its Poke Ball. "Where did all that come from?"

Ren thought about it for a moment. "Observation," he said at length, nodding. "Have you got a marker or something?"

"Sure," she said, waving a hand impatiently in front of her face, "but how did you do that?"

"I just . . . looked at Zigzagoon and made some inferences based on what I saw. It's actually remarkably easy to draw those sorts of conclusions when you look at a Pokémon."

"For you, maybe!" Aura said, handing him a permanent marker. "But that was amazing. I think I saw a guy from Unova doing something like that on TV once. You know, looking at Pokémon and talking about their bonds with their Trainers and things. He wasn't quite as, er . . . useful as you, though. It was kind of, like, a psychic thing where he told the Trainer things about their Pokémon. They were really impressed and all, but he didn't give them any advice about where to go in the future."

"There you go," Ren said, handing her back the Poke Ball and the marker. "Sorry if it's a bit messy. My signature's pretty rubbish. But could you remember the name of that programme, by any chance? It sounds interesting."

"Sorry, I can't," she said. "But thanks for the autograph! I mean, wow."

"Um . . ." Kelsey said. "C-could you, like, sign something for me, too?"

"Sure, that's fine," Ren said. Could I . . . get used to this? Well, no, it would always be weird. But I could deal with it. These two are nice. They're just people. Why was I scared of people?

After he signed one of Kelsey's schoolbooks, Ren made his excuses and headed on towards home, leaving Zangoose out of its Poke Ball to walk by his side. The Pokémon seemed to enjoy the fresh air, having had few enough outings in the last few days.

The rest of his walk through the city passed relatively calmly. A handful of people waved or smiled at him in the street, and he made an effort to respond in kind. It was easier than he'd thought it would be. He remembered what Bella had said to him on Saturday evening: Your problem is that you've let what you think other people think about you affect what you actually think about yourself. She'd been a hundred per cent right, he realised. He'd had trouble accepting his role as a sudden celebrity because it had seemed so alien to him. He had made assumptions about how people viewed him; sure, there was a lot of truth to those assumptions, but he'd blown it way out of proportion.

Realising how foolish he'd been wasn't a good feeling. Still, though, better to work it out now and stop being an idiot about it than carry on trying to run away from everything.

After passing through the centre of Slateport, he found himself once again in the suburbs, which soon gave way to the beach road that snaked its precarious way up towards his house. Due to the fact that the road ran roughly from north-west to south-east, he found that the morning sun was in his eyes much of the time, so he kept his head down, watching the slightly cracked road passing beneath his feet.

Once again, he found his mind involuntarily slipping back to the world of dreams. He knew that something as important as the possible end of the world as he knew it should probably be hovering at the front of his mind all day, but it seemed to float in and out of his consciousness at random. He only thought about it a couple of times a day, he realised. Does my subconscious just not care? It certainly seemed that way. He knew he should be spending more time thinking about it, given its importance, but there was still a dream-like quality to it that made it hard to hold onto.

Not for the first time, Ren wondered if they really had just been dreams. Sure, they had felt real, but dreams often did. Steven – logical, level-headed Steven – had been convinced they were real, which ought to have spoken volumes in favour of them being reality, but somehow Ren found it difficult to accept. The whole concept was ridiculous, of course. Travelling to a different world in his dreams, a world occupied by magical spirits and living shadows that fought a bitter, eternal war? It sounded like a fantasy novel. It was entirely possible that the Dreamlight was simply some form of talisman that gave the wearer bizarre dreams. He had heard of such items, possessed by Ghost-type Pokémon that lived only to bring mayhem and confusion to people's dreams.

Stranger things had happened, though. There were legends from all over the world of giant Pokémon with total dominion over the elements. Even in the Hoenn region, he had heard of three legendary golems that had been sealed beneath the earth over a thousand years ago so that they would cease their destructive rampage. He didn't know how much truth there was to such stories – he had never paid much attention to supernatural myths and legends – but there was a lot of supposed evidence.

A sudden thought struck him, causing him to stop dead. Rather than such legends proving the likelihood of the world of dreams being real . . . wasn't it possible that if the world of dreams were real, the other myths could be too? Was it conceivable that the fabled giant dragon called Rayquaza, for example, actually existed? If one was possible, the other might be too. Sure, they were entirely different matters; the world of dreams seemed to exist on a separate plane – if he assumed it existed at all, which he was admittedly inclined to do – whereas the myths dealing with giant dragons and leviathans were, relatively speaking, much more mundane.

A strange feeling rose up inside him, causing him to shiver. A mixture of apprehension and excitement, heralding the possibilities that were opening up. Such legends were seeming more and more likely by the second. If an entire parallel world populated by mysterious creatures could exist, why couldn't a giant dragon? Why couldn't the myths of the Hoenn region have a basis in fact?

Something else occurred to him equally suddenly as he stood on one side of the coast road, eyes shaded against the sun with one hand. Among myths of dragons and monsters, of giant birds of thunder and enormous canines that ran on water, there were smaller, less grand tales. Stories of ghosts and spirits, of dead people unable to move on and find peace. Cecilia had told him about the spirits that had tried to cross into his world. We end up trapped there, she had said, intangible, drained of all our power and sometimes even unable to speak – what you might know as . . . ghosts.

Ghost stories were immensely popular, being made into books, movies and video games, but he had never paid them much attention. If what Cecilia had said was true, though, the ghosts that were said to haunt various secluded spots around the world might actually be real. Furthermore, they might be able to banish his doubts about the world of dreams. If he met one . . . if he could talk to one of them while wide awake and in full control of his mind, he would be convinced that everything happening in the world of dreams was actually real.

Of course, he still had the problem of how to go about talking to a ghost. If they were so open as to talk to anybody who came wandering by, all of their secrets would have been exposed years ago. All he could do was hope that they might recognise the Dreamlight.

Did Steven ever think of this? Did he talk to ghosts?

As he resumed walking, Ren made up his mind. He would seek out a ghost to confirm the existence of the world of dreams. He was sick of being uncertain.

Until that point, though, he would have to continue to treat the world of dreams as if it was indeed real. He couldn't afford to make any foolish mistakes.