~(M)~
His son had been an inspiration ever since he left.
According to testimonials from the other scientists, there's been a swell of bravery lately. Surely that was partly from himself: the return of their most valued molecular biophysicist would spark some inspiration into their hearts. And the fact that he had a decent plan of action for fighting against the Rocket Empire was certainly a cause for excitement. But there was still a sense of eagerness and initiative that was atypical among the "inspired scientist" community. His colleagues were the same people that he kept secrets from—the people that he had consciously decided to lie to in order to keep them from stopping him from crossing the portal in the first place. Now they were the ones bossing him around and volunteering for the most dangerous of necessary tasks.
No, the source of that sort of starry-eyed bravery couldn't have come entirely from him. Leo had definitely left his mark here.
That morning, his coworker Fred returned to the lab with a bundle of Master Balls that he'd obtained after tracking down an underground market for them. They'd been fresh out for the past week, and restocking had been a task that Professor Oak tried to keep at number-two on the priorities list for as long as possible.
The fluorescent lights of the Unova lab brought a glow to the glossy white walls and the waxed floor. Professor Oak rested a hand on a Master Ball that lay on the table beside him. It was an item whose existence he despised, and he didn't hide his revulsion at all. The moment his fingertips touched the ball, he grimaced like he'd just stuck his hand in a pile of dog crap.
On his other hand, he wore a thick purple glove with a finely tuned electromagnetic signaler at its palm. It was prototype version 2.1 of their soon-to-be main weapon against the Rocket Empire, a step up from prototype 1.4.
With the help of the souls, the team had been able to collect observations about how they behaved. After comparing the behavior of encapsulated Pokémon souls, they'd come to the conclusion that the Master Ball's mechanism of capture was different from those of normal Poké Balls. The soul within the encapsulated Pokémon got locked into the ball itself. This both kept the Pokémon tied to the ball and ensured its obedience. With that spiritual disconnect, all Pokémon felt themselves at the mercy of the trainer who captured them, and so felt obligated to obey their commands. It was a coercive and sinister form of encapsulation.
Their first prototype managed to overpower the Master Ball mechanism by a clever modification of the separated souls. Souls apparently already had a certain pheromonic attractive property to them: in areas where many souls lingered in the Pokémon world, those with spiritual knowledge would meditate and let their own souls be lifted from their bodies. All Articuno needed to do was channel the souls properly, and they were turned into components that powered a device that pulled the soul of the captured Pokémon out of the Master Ball and back into the host's body.
They would rely on this prototype if need be, but it did have a souring downside. It required the exhaustion of Pokémon souls to function, meaning they would eventually have to harvest more. That required both learning how to do so and…actually doing it. Needless to say, after spending two years on the other planet harvesting souls, it wasn't a very appealing option to Masquerain.
It was certainly encouraging that they had the separated souls to experiment on, since they were practically useless for scientific purposes inside of Pokémon bodies. They behaved so erratically, and they were nearly impossible to observe. There was so little rhyme or reason to them—so little predictability. But it was clear that the way they responded to certain electromagnetic signals and combinations was repeatable and ingrained in their very nature. After all, that was how the capture mechanism for Pokémon worked. Perhaps, the team thought, there was some sort of combination of signals that would do what they wanted. Some assortment that would reconnect the link between body and spirit.
The exposed souls gave them a little bit more room for observation. It was like there was a language that they spoke: give one a certain combination of frequencies, and it would spit something back. Give it a different combination, and it would spit something else back. So, after creating a mathematical model, gathering data, running prediction models, doing a least-squares regression, plugging the multiplier into a singular value decomposition, validating that the orthogonal vectors were representing what they were expecting, and doing some experimentation on the unknown directions, the team found what they were looking for: a combination that reversed the effects of the Master Ball.
Well…maybe. Hopefully.
"Roy," Professor Oak said in a defeated tone, "you're crazy. And we thank you for that."
"Just throw the ball, you wuss," Masquerain mocked. "Worst case scenario, you need to free me with v1."
Oak sighed and gripped the Master Ball. "If you used your imagination, you could probably come up with worse cases than that. But I know I can't talk you out of this."
"Please explain to me why I don't feel an unstoppable urge to obey your every command," Masquerain growled.
"Oh, calm your feelers, I'm throwing it." Oak tossed the Master Ball at him as if it were a piece of trash. It gravitated towards Masquerain, tapping at his wing before opening up.
He'd never felt the sensation of capture before. It was like he was being cradled—his body gently melting away into a freeform buzz of energy. It wasn't tight or constraining. It was the opposite, in fact. He felt like he was able to move in ways that he'd never been able to move before. He was almost—
Suddenly, a darkness swept over his being. Thick, black, menacing hands encased him, pulling at something deep in his mind. It felt like his brain had been snagged by a fishing hook, and he could feel the natural movements of the surrounding current gradually pulling it away.
When he was ejected from the Poké Ball, and his body rematerialized, he definitely felt a part of him missing. Every inch of him felt out of place, like an empty zombie in a hollow shell.
There was definitely a such thing as free will, because he knew for certain that he did not have it anymore.
He eyed the Master Ball in Oak's hand. This was a bad idea. He just gave up full control over himself. With that ball in hand, Oak had a part of him held hostage—the part of him that gave him a will to live, and a sense of guidance for his decision-making.
He only had one choice: offer himself as a slave. Give him every reason he could offer to make sure he didn't get abandoned. He could survive with his soul stuck in a Master Ball, but only if he knew where the Master Ball was at all times—only if his soul was still there to communicate to him, if only slightly.
Oak stared at him in ponderence. What was the man thinking? Was he considering whether or not he was worth tossing to the side? Was he waiting for him to prove himself worthy? He wasn't the strongest Pokémon, but he had a couple of skills. He could talk, for example. That had to be worth something, right? Maybe he should say something. But speaking without being told to speak? No, he wouldn't dare to do something so reckless.
"Just for the record: you have been captured, yes?" Oak asked.
Masquerain vibrated his head up and down. "Yes. Yes, I have," he stuttered.
"Good," Oak said. He set the Master Ball aside and flipped a switch on his gloved hand. "Then let's set you free."
The glove didn't produce anything more than a dull buzz, but behind the boundaries of vision and hearing, it ejected an energy that the layperson would consider magic. Masquerain felt something vibrate within his abdomen, and then the Master Ball suddenly opened up. A blue wisp shot at him at the speed of sound, digging into his body and snuggling itself back to where it belonged.
And just like that, everything came back. He was himself again. The paralysis of fear melted away, and his mind and motivation swam energetically within his own body once more.
He smiled. He knew he shouldn't have expected anything different. Oak got cooped up over nothing.
"It worked," he said nonchalantly.
"Do you feel any different?" Oak asked. "Are you experiencing any discomfort or mental trauma or—?"
"—Dr. Oak, I'm fine," Masquerain said. "I've got my free will back. You had it for a moment, but that device brought it right back to me. It works. I promise."
Oak nodded hesitantly. "Just to be sure, we should wait a few days. Let us know if your body starts acting strangely. In the meantime, we'll run some tests on other Pokémon as well to see how they respond, since you're a bit different from the others on this planet."
He took off the glove and tossed the busted Master Ball out of his sight. He then pulled a pen out of his front pocket and walked over to his desk where he took a seat and began writing in his notebook.
"For the first time in a long while, I'm fervently looking forward to the future, Dr. Garland," Professor Oak said over his writing, letting a small smile creep out from his lips. "In all likelihood, this prototype will be sent to the US Army. And once the Rocket Empire knows that this technology exists, they'll crumble faster than they rose." He looked up at Masquerain. "If you're right, and this prototype works, then our work here will be done."
Masquerain smiled at the thought. It was exciting to think that soon, all this would be over. Things would be just as peaceful here as they were on Leo's side of the galaxy.
"Go get some rest, Roy," Oak said. "You've definitely earned it."
Masquerain nodded and flew away, making his way to the outdoor summer night. He was kind of in the mood to retire—to settle down and just relax for the better part of his lifetime. Of course, he knew it would never happen: he loved his job too much to quit it. But in that moment, the only thought that invaded his mind was that he had done enough. And it was time for him to take a long, well-deserved break. Stare at the sky, try his hand at some casual battles, make light conversation with the townsfolk, and, now that he'd experienced his soul being ripped out of his body, maybe inform himself a bit more on qualia theory.
It was going to be a good life.
~(C)~
It was the 2nd of the 9th of the 433rd.
Now that Locket had gotten his memories back, he couldn't help but feel critical of the Pokémon dating system. The months were just numbers? Really? There were only twelve of them; why not give them pretty names like the humans did?
He continued pouting internally as he thought up possible new names for the months. Pidovuary, Zekrober, Elektember, uh…no, nevermind, those are just stupid.
Well, boring month names or not, it was still the 2nd of the 9th of the 433rd. And a ship was due to be making port any minute now. Platoon 4 had accepted the responsibility of the Training Camp's first priority mission since their reinstatement, and Locket was proud to take his part as well: delivering all of the Will Boxes from Chide.
Machoke carried a chest full of belongings that once belonged to Sula, while Victini and Snivy led the way with Locket as they stepped foot on the brick road of Amber Falls. The summer air was finally starting to retreat, and a slight chill gripped Locket's body.
"Hey, before we go to the docks, can we look for a medic?" Snivy asked.
"What? Why?" Locket asked.
Snivy took a few deep breaths before saying with a shaken voice, "I think I may have been poisoned."
Locket looked at Snivy more closely: he was hyperventilating and sweating, and his pupils were heavily dilated.
"Snivy, you look horrible!" Victini said. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"
"I only just started feeling it," Snivy mumbled. "I think it was the ariados. It…." He put a hand to his head and stopped for a second.
Machoke distributed Sula's belongings over to one hand and picked up Snivy with the other. "I know where the nearest emergency doctor is," he said. "Follow me, and pick up the pace."
Machoke led the way, walking briskly down the road. Locket and Victini stayed close behind him. Snivy quivered and murmured, keeping his sensitive eyes protected from the sun by burying his face into Machoke's skin. After only making a single turn ahead in the city, they approached a large red plus sign that stuck out against a building on the side.
They walked into an empty waiting room that smelled like disinfectant. From the back room came a smiling Simipour wearing an apron. "Hello, hello!" she called out. "Who needs help?"
"I have a Snivy here," Machoke explained. "He was poisoned by an ariados less than an hour ago."
"Oh no, I'm so sorry to hear that." She sounded genuine, but not shocked—as if she'd heard it before, but it broke her heart every time. "Is he still conscious?"
"I'm doing my best," Snivy grumbled out.
"Well, that's good. Why don't you make yourself comfortable over there, alright? You'll be all better in a bit."
Machoke slowly set Snivy down on one of the seats. He shivered and curled forward, clutching his chest. The leaf on his tail wilted a bit, the very tips curling inward.
Simipour was only gone for a few seconds before she came back with a small vial of a pink liquid. She walked up to Snivy knelt down to him. "Chin up for me, okay?"
Snivy lifted his head upward and Simipour pushed the vial into his mouth. Snivy promptly took control and grabbed onto the vial himself, drinking the rest of the serum. When he finished it, he handed the empty glassware back to Simipour and sighed.
"There you go," Simipour said. "You should be feeling better in a minute or two. Please stay seated while the medicine does its job. Do you have any water?"
Snivy nodded shakenly and produced a waterskin from his satchel.
"Good," she said. "Stay hydrated once you recover. It'll help flush the toxins out."
"Thank you very much," Victini said. "How much do we owe you?"
"Oh, it's just 300 for the—" she suddenly looked between the four of them, "—Wait a minute. I know you. You're Machoke and Victini from the Training Camp. And you're…Locket, right?"
"That's right," Locket said with a modest grin. "Wow, I wasn't expected to be recognized in public."
"I've been following the aftermath of the Arashi very closely," Simipour said. "I have personal reasons to be very interested in what ended up happening to them. I'd like to thank you two for being so open with the press. There was a lot on your shoulders there that you were willing to reveal, and a lot that I'm sure lots of others would have preferred to keep secret."
"Well, between you and me, there are quite a few things that I didn't disclose," Locket said. "But this world deserved to know the truth that was relevant to them. The response so far has been very positive. The number of Pokémon who see me as a hero seems to be much higher than the number of Pokémon who despise me for having aided my father in the end."
"How did it feel to learn that Masquerain was your father?" Simipour asked.
Locket thought for a second before saying, "It was redeeming. I mean, the realization hit me like a stampede, but it was comforting when I fully digested it. I didn't have too many hard feelings against him when I found out. It was just…nice to know that I had a father again, you know?"
"What did you think of him before you found out?"
"Well, he was smart, that much was for sure," Locket said. "He had a strict rationality to him that my own brain seems to have too. And when he found out that I was his son, it was like a flip switched. All of a sudden, I was all that mattered to him."
"Aww," Simipour said, cupping her hands together. "That's so sweet!" She walked over to the door and closed it. "You know, I—I don't want you to tell anyone this, but…I actually knew Masquerain myself."
Locket blinked. "You…you did?"
"Yes. I was a medic in the search division of the Arashi. Masquerain, Dewott, Weavile, Abra…I knew them all. The number of times I've healed Dewott's sprained ankles and bandaged his bleeding wounds—" she laughed. "He was always a great fighter, but always so headstrong. And Masquerain…truly an admirable Pokémon. Very smart, like you said. And very unfairly treated after I left."
"Why did you leave?" Locket asked.
"I didn't like the death," Simipour said. "It was too stressful, too heartbreaking."
"And yet, you're a doctor," Machoke interjected. "Surely you deal with death more often than the normal Pokémon feels comfortable with."
Simipour giggled. "I didn't like the murder, let's say. I did everything I could to keep everyone alive, but…well, you can't save them all. And besides, I preferred to be on the side that healed, not destroyed. Even when destruction was necessary."
"From what Masquerain had implied when he was with me, it sounds like you left at a good time," Locket said.
"Oh, a perfect time," Simipour said. "Weavile…probably would have killed me if I stayed around for much longer. I got very lucky."
"At least that bastard is dead now," Snivy said.
Simipour nodded. "Oh, where are my manners? May I ask what brings you four to Amber Falls?"
"We are…making a special delivery," Machoke said.
"Ah," Simipour said with a nod. "Will Box."
"Yes, ma'am."
Simipour bowed her head in understanding. "I'm very sorry."
Machoke shook his head. "It's all part of the job."
"That doesn't make it any more trivial. You should know that the Arashi admired your Training Camp very much, even though you were their adversary."
Machoke nodded. "Well, like you, we prefer to be on the side that helps others."
Simipour smiled again. "Well, it was a pleasure getting to meet you all. Snivy, are you feeling better?"
"Yeah, much better," Snivy said with an active wag of his tail. "Thank you so much."
"It's my pleasure. And don't worry about paying; you're welcome here anytime."
"No, no, we insist," Victini said as she handed Simipour a small sum coins. "It's really not that much. We don't want any preferential treatment."
Simipour cupped the money in her hands and nodded. "Very well, then. Have a good afternoon."
"Afternoon?" Locket questioned. "Were we really in the dungeon that long? What time is it?"
"It was approaching twelve-thirty last I checked," Simipour said.
"Well shoot, we're running late," Machoke said. "Thank you for your service, Simipour. And I'm glad you stayed safe."
"Thank you, Machoke," Simipour said. "Take care."
It was a twenty-minute walk from Simipour's medical center to the docks. Grand schooners and trade ships lay at the ports, with burly dockworkers carrying cargo crates and barrels onto land. Flags from foreign lands waved beside the masts in the skyline, and the smell of spices and other exotic luxuries blended into the salty air. The afternoon chatter of commerce and prices rang wide, and the crowd of Pokémon around the shore shielded the foursome from the sight of any Minuns.
"Which ship is his?" Snivy asked.
Machoke poked his head up, scouting over the horizon at the distant masts. "I think it's that tall one over there," he said, pointing over at a ship to their left.
Once identified, they marched through the docks and approached the ship. It had bright yellow sails rolled up, with crewmates carrying sacks and chests onto the docks.
"There he is," Victini said, pointing ahead. Locket followed her finger to a group in the distance. He spotted a gruff Minun with a floppy right ear a bulky upper body. He was chatting with a Nidorino and clutching onto a small chest.
"So, who wants to tell him?" Snivy asked.
"I will," Locket said.
"You sure?" Victini asked. "Machoke and I have broken bad news plenty of times before. We've gotten pretty good at it."
Locket shook his head. "I want to be the one to do it."
"Alright," Victini said. "You can break the news however you want, but don't dance around the subject, okay? It'll be hard for him to hear, but you need to be direct with him and tell him precisely what happened. Leave no room for confusion."
"Understood," Locket said obediently.
He turned away from Victini and took a couple of steps forward, but found himself slowing down. The Minun was relaxed and refreshed. He was leaning against a crate, laughing along with the Nidorino. He looked so happy, so excited. He was finally home—seeing his wife and kids again was probably the only thing on his mind at the moment. Did he really have the heart to tell him that they were gone?
The Minun's eyes perked up to Locket, and he stopped his partner's jabbering with a gesture of his hand. "Hello there sir," he said to him with a gruff and rhotic voice. "Is there…something I can do to help you?"
Locket collected himself with a sigh and walked up to him. "Is your name Samuel?"
"Aye, it is," Samuel said. "I'm sorry if we've met before; you'll have to remind me who you are. Are you a friend of Sula's?"
"Not exactly," Locket said, doing all he could to keep his tone official. Once he broke the news, he could lend an arm, but until then, he needed to be straightforward, like Victini said. "I'm with an organization known as Machoke's Training Camp, and there's some important stuff you need to know. Could we find somewhere to speak a little more privately?"
"Uh…." He looked over at Nidoran.
"Go on ahead. We can talk later," Nidoran said.
"Alright." Samuel turned back to Locket. "That table over there ought to do. Before I left, I'd always go there to think whenever I was in the city."
Locket turned around. On an elevated grassy flat, a number of vacant tables and chairs lay before a large statue of a Whiscash. "Yeah, that'll be fine," he agreed.
The two of them navigated away from the ports and took a seat across from one another. Samuel set his chest down off to the side. Locket felt his heart accelerating as he tried to find the words he was going to say. Memories of the Arashi raid started to come back to him—the fire, the screams, the blood, the fear….
"Hey, kid," Samuel said, snapping Locket back to attention. "You got something to tell me, right? Hurry it up, then. I've got a chest full of pay and a wife that needs to help me spend it." He ended with a jaunty laugh.
"Sorry," Locket said. "Um…are you aware of the events that have been going on over the past two years here in Neothina?"
"Yes, yes, of course!" Samuel said. "A bunch of crazy bastards calling themselves the Arashi are tearing everything up, right? Wreaking havoc and burning villages to the ground and all that."
"Well—" Locket started, before Samuel went on.
"I might have been on a ship for six years but that doesn't mean we're shut out from everything that's been going on. And don't think I don't know a thing or two about Machoke's Training Camp either; you're the ones sticking up to them. Now, listen, I respect your profession, but if you're only here to give me a number of safety protocols or something, then save your breath. I don't bloody need it."
"No, it's not that," Locket quickly said. He felt a lump forming in his throat, but he pushed himself to stay well-postured.
The smile ran away from Samuel's face. "Well then, what is it?"
"Samuel, the village of Chide was attacked by Arashi invaders last month," Locket said with as much precision in his words as he could muster. "Your wife Sula and your son Plusle were killed in the raid. Your other son was killed a couple weeks later after the Arashi invaded Cherish."
Samuel stared at Locket with soft eyes and a mouth stuck half-open. He was stiller than the overhanging clouds.
"I'm very sorry."
A few more seconds passed. "This is…." Samuel began. "No….No, no, this isn't happening."
"I'm so sorry, Samuel," Locket said.
Samuel shook his head and looked at the ground. His breathing began to accelerate.
"Listen," Locket said. "We're here: we'll do everything we can to help."
"Oh, shut up, why don't you!" Samuel snapped. "You've helped quite enough! You were supposed to be there for them. You were supposed to keep this from happening. What good are you if you can't even protect my family? Why in the bloody hell would I want your help?"
"You don't have a home to return to. The Training Camp can offer you support until you get back on your feet," Locket said.
"I'll find my own place, thank you very much," Samuel growled, darting his eyes away from Locket and glowering at the patch of grass next to him.
"Samuel, listen."
"No." Samuel rose to his feet. "I've heard enough from you."
"I knew them very well, Samuel."
Samuel stopped. His teary eyes locked onto Locket's.
"I…." Locket had to take a moment to compose himself, but he felt himself crumbling. Memories of his time with Flux came clouding back to him, and tension started to concentrate into his eyes and cheeks. "I was there when Chide was attacked. I had already been a part of the village for a while at that point. Your two sons…they were the greatest joys of the place. I was there. I saw everything burn down. I looked after Minun after both of us went to the Training Camp, and I…I still miss him so much. You don't need to go through this alone, Samuel."
Samuel sighed and closed his eyes, letting the tears fall down his cheeks. "Sula had my entire voyage memorized," he said. "Everytime we made port, I'd be welcomed with letters from her. Dozens of them, written during the long months while I was at sea. She talked about the kids and the town and how much she missed me. I was hardly able to send back letters, and…oh, Mew, the ones that I did she wouldn't have been able to show the kids."
"Why not?" Locket asked.
"I was a lonely rabbit in the middle of the sea and my wife was on my mind. Is it really that much of a mystery?" Samuel said with a sniff. "Listen, I…I can stay at this Training Camp for a bit if you want. I suppose I wouldn't mind talking with you about the kids. I could show you some of the letters Sula wrote to me: I've kept all of them."
Locket nodded. "I think I'd like that."
"I think I'll need to spend a bit of time with myself first," Samuel said, his voice trembling. "I'm going to stay the night in the city and try and…get my mind sorted out."
"Would you like to see what was left in the Will Box?" Locket asked. "Everything that was saved in the attack belongs to you."
"Oh…yes, of course," Samuel said. "Did you come with others?"
Locket nodded. "Follow me."
Slowly, the two of them returned back to Machoke and the others. Locket noticed just how offensively bright and cheery the sky was. Samuel tried to maintain a stoic posture while he marched forward, but his eyes gave away all of his shock and sorrow. Tears were streaming down his face as he approached, turning his exhales into shivers and his inhales into snivels.
They all met on the side of the road, where the docks and the sidewalk converged. "Hello, Samuel," Victini said, her voice somber and low. "Have you decided what you would like to do?"
"Aye," Samuel said. "I'm going to spend the night here, and then go to your Camp tomorrow, if that's okay."
"Of course, that's perfectly fine," Victini said. "Do you want to look through the Will Box before we go back?"
Samuel simply nodded.
Machoke set the chest on the ground and opened it. Samuel peered inside. Remarkably, a smile adorned his face. He reached in and pulled out a painting, about as wide as his head, of a family of two Plusles and two Minuns.
"Just as I remembered them…" Samuel said softly as he gazed into the portrait.
A few tweets by distant birds sounded before he finally set the picture aside and looked back into the chest. He nodded. "Yes, I recognize all of these things. Sula definitely had a good eye for what to hold onto. I trust you'll take good care of everything here until I return for it."
"Of course," Machoke said. "Will you be holding onto the picture?"
"Yes," Samuel said, picking the painting back up. "This was actually made the day before I went on my voyage. The boys weren't a day over two." He sighed and said, "To hell with the money I sent them. I never should have left. That voyage was nothing but heartache for me and my family. Maybe if I was there, I could have helped them, or at least given them some comfort before they died. My poor babies…."
Locket wished he could say something to make everything alright. He wished he had some comforting promises that he could make to ensure him that things wouldn't be so bad. There weren't any magic words, though: it was going to be hard, and he was going to have to suffer through grief, just like anyone else would in an awful situation like this. Locket put a hand on his shoulder and stared at the painting with him. The least he could do was let him know implicitly that he would be there for him.
"Is there anything else you need to bring back with you from the ship?" Victini asked. "Anything we can help you with?"
"Uh…yes," Samuel said, pulling his eyes back from the picture again and standing up. "There's a chestful of belongings waiting for me in the hull. You're not allowed on the ship, but if you could keep an eye on my coffer while I unloaded, that'd be appreciated."
"Of course we will," Victini said. "And I'm very sorry for your loss."
Samuel turned around and walked back to the docks. His ears sagged below his head and his step was slow and grounded.
"How much have you told him so far?" Victini asked.
"Not too much," Locket said. "He knows that the Arashi killed them, and he knows that I personally knew them. I didn't lay down the details, though."
"I hope you know that he's going to want to know them before we leave," Victini said.
Locket folded his hands and looked at Samuel's painting. "I know."
When Samuel returned with his luggage in-arm, Machoke took it off of his hands and carried it for him. Samuel picked up his money and his painting and the five of them walked down the street until they found an inn along the Amber River. The innkeeper was an elderly female Swanna with hoop earrings. She gave Samuel a room on the first floor, with a view of the stream outside of the window. Machoke set down all of the belongings he was carrying, and Samuel placed the painting on the nightstand.
When everyone was inside of the room, Locket closed the door behind him. Samuel looked at the Training Camp members and said, "So, you're still lingering around. I assume that means there's still more you need to tell me?"
"Only if there's more that you want to hear," Machoke said with a steady voice.
Samuel was silent for a second, then nodded. "Of course." He sat down himself, leaning at the end of the bed. "Charmander, you said that you…knew my family?"
"I did," Locket said. "I lived in Chide for a couple of weeks before it got attacked. I quickly became friends with your two sons. They loved to explore and play. They were absolute joys: the highlight of the entire town."
Samuel chuckled. "Yeah, those are my sons, alright. How was my wife holding up?"
"She was doing well," Locket said. "The kids I'm sure were a handful for her, but she was happy and attentive. Did you know that there was a mystery dungeon near the village?"
"Oh, the little one to the west with the water-types? Aye, it was an easy little thing for us electric-types. I'd bet they were big enough to go through it all on their own."
"Yeah, well, the first time they went through it, Minun got lost. Plusle had the genius idea of telling Sula to come to me for help, and…well, me being a fire-type, I didn't fare too well. Minun ended up being the one saving me when I went in to find him."
"Ohh, that's my boy," Samuel cooed.
Locket nodded. "When…when the attack came, Plusle and Minun were in the woods. I was in the village at the time myself. After the library caught fire, I told the mayor to ring the bell and alarm everyone. But by that time, the entire village was surrounded by the Arashi. Your son Plusle went back to see what was happening and told Minun to stay behind. And…he got slaughtered along with everyone else in the village. The only reason I survived was sheer luck: Snivy and the rest of the Training Camp arrived just in time to save me."
"Are you sure that…everyone's dead?" Samuel asked. "Is it possible that…maybe some of them ran away?"
"I'm sorry, Samuel, but everyone was accounted for in the end," Victini said. "We found your wife and son's bodies along with everybody else's."
Samuel's ears lowered. "Do you…know how they died?"
"We can't be sure," Victini said. "Given the nature of the Arashi attack, it's likely they were either killed by a pursuer or…burned alive."
"Oh, dear Mew…." Samuel put a hand to his head. "What about—what about Minun? Was it the same story when Cherish was attacked?"
"No," Victini said.
"Machoke's Training Camp is actually in the village of Cherish," Locket explained. "After the events at Chide, both your son and I joined the Training Camp. However…the Arashi eventually found out where the Training Camp was. They staged an attack, overthrew the town, and we became prisoners. Now…the Arashi wanted me specifically to cooperate with them. They were looking for an ancient location called Articuno's Fountain, and they believed that I was the only Pokémon capable of finding it."
"Why you?" Samuel asked.
"The details are very complicated," Locket said. "Let's just say that it has to do with my upbringing."
Samuel nodded. "Very well."
"Well…I refused to cooperate."
"Of course," Samuel said, as if it would have been blasphemy to do anything else.
"And, well…by this point, I had gotten very attached to Flux. He was—"
"—I'm sorry, did you say 'Flux'?"
"The Training Camp distributes nicknames to recruited Pokémon," Machoke explained. "It's to eliminate back-end confusion. 'Flux' was your son's nickname."
"Oh, okay, I see," Samuel said. "I like the nickname." It looked like he tried to summon a smile, but he couldn't quite manage.
Locket nodded. "Your son liked it too."
Samuel leaned forward. "Sorry to interrupt. Please go on."
"No, it's fine," Locket said. "Like I said, I'd gotten very attached to Flux. In fact, I loved him like he was my own: I wanted to see him grow up and be happy, and he started looking at me as something close to a father. Or maybe a brother. Regretfully, I made the mistake of showing my affection to him in public." He realized that the tears were coming again. He was silent for a second or two, but he realized soon that his emotions were destabilizing more and more with each passing second. He tried talking a bit faster. "The Pokémon that was holding us captive noticed this, and…well, to scare me into compliance, they killed him in front of all of us. I begged and begged for them to let him go and keep him alive. I told them that I would do anything for them. But they didn't listen. They wanted to show me that they were taking this seriously. They wanted to show me that the next time they threatened to kill someone I loved, they meant it."
"Heartless bastards," Samuel whispered. "Tell me they've at least been hanged for what they've done."
Locket nodded. "Weavile, the Pokémon that ordered his execution, was hanged three days ago in Suntower City. Apparently it was the first public execution in years."
"I don't even know how someone could be so evil," Samuel growled. "M-makes me sick." He looked up at Locket and said. "I'm glad that he at least had a friend with him before he died. Thank you for being there." He rose to his feet. "Now, I, uh…I'm sorry to kick you out so suddenly, but I don't think my heart can take much more of this."
"We completely understand," Victini said as she stood up. "We know this isn't easy. Please stay strong. And don't forget that the Training Camp is here to support you: lots of our members have had to deal with loss as well."
Samuel nodded. "Thank you for everything you did. All of you."
Locket approached Samuel and hugged him tightly. "I'll never forget the joy your family brought me," he said. "I'm sorry I couldn't save them."
"Locket and I can come back tomorrow to help you move your belongings to the Training Camp," Snivy said.
"I'd appreciate the company," Samuel said as he let go of Locket. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Locket nodded. "Hang in there until then, alright?"
"I will, lad," Samuel said.
Machoke lifted the chest back up and stepped out of the inn along with the rest of the Campers. A light breeze brushed over Locket's head. He sighed. "That was hard."
"Yeah, no kidding," Snivy said. "I feel completely drained, and I hardly even did any talking."
"You handled it very well, though," Victini said. "Much better than I could have done."
"Really?" Locket asked.
"I didn't have the connection with Flux that you had," Victini said. "You were able to show him both strength and sympathy, and he listened to your every word. I think he has a lot of respect for you."
"Well, today's mission is accomplished," Machoke said. "Let's hurry on back: I need to get to the kitchens soon."
"Right," Victini said as she started walking down the road. "Let's get going."
Locket started following Victini and Machoke, but Snivy tapped him on she shoulder. "Remember…?"
Locket perked up. "Oh, right! Hey, Victini, Machoke."
Victini and Machoke stopped and turned their heads.
"Snivy and I are actually going to stay behind," Locket said. "The Amber Falls Orchestra will be playing a concert here tonight. Snivy and I are attending."
"Oh, I heard about that," Machoke said. "The conductor is the famous composer, right? Sunny the Hawlucha?"
"That's right," Snivy said. "We've been interested in attending for a few weeks now."
"Will you be back in time for dinner?" Machoke asked.
"I'm afraid not," Snivy said. "We'll probably be back at around midnight."
"Understood. Have fun, and be safe on your way back."
"We will."
Victini trotted up to Locket and pecked him with a kiss. "See you tomorrow," she said.
Locket smiled and responded, "You too."
Snivy and Locket turned around and walked aimlessly down the road. Snivy led the way, keeping a foot in front of Locket at every step. Before they reached the docks, they turned left at one of the larger roads and continued their stroll as the buildings and streetlamps drifted beside them.
"I have the feeling this is going to be the start of a nice new friendship," Snivy said while they walked.
"Hmm?" Locket asked.
"With Samuel. I'm hoping we'll end up becoming good friends after this."
Locket nodded. "Yeah, I hope so too. I don't mean to make any assumptions, but I think he'd make a good Training Camper. He's strong, and he has a good heart. Plus, he just finished a six-year contract, so I'm assuming he's out of a job. I could definitely see him joining our ranks. Of course, we're not here to proselytize, but one can always be optimistic."
Snivy nodded. "For how downtrodden he was, he really did seem to appreciate you. I hope, in the very least, that he stays in touch with us."
They crossed another road, wary of the pedestrians walking perpendicular to them.
Locket shot a glance at Snivy. "So, um…it's been about two weeks now since we took Cherish back and got together again. Now that things are settled in, do you…do you think our friendship is going to last?"
Snivy hummed. "Well…I'd be hard-pressed to say 'yes' with certainty, but things are looking pretty good so far. Why? Are you having doubts?"
"Well," Locket mumbled as he rubbed the back of his head, "I've noticed we've been bickering quite a bit lately."
"Hey, you're to blame for that, Mr. 'I refuse to be persuaded into playing Dungeons and Druddigons with the platoon because I hate having any sense of imagi'—"
"—Snivy, I already told you: I don't see the point in role-playing when I'm practically role-playing right now. I'm a human masquerading as a Charmander, and—"
"—No, you're a Charmander that was merely a human at one point." Snivy flourished his cape as he pointed a finger at Locket. "Eject that thought from your mind, explorer, and embrace your true identity as orange-lizard man! Or, if you so wish, you may put on a different hat and play D&D with us."
Locket laughed. "Yeah, well, my point still stands. Are you really happy?"
"Locket, of course I'm happy. Look, one of the big reasons for why I ended up making that mistake and betraying you was because I didn't trust you. I held a secret because I was afraid that your reaction would have been dangerous. And I don't want to make that mistake again, so I'm trying to be as open as possible. I've been telling you how I feel about everything, telling you what's been going through my mind. And if that means that you have to hear about how I'm not too fond of your silly excuses for not playing Dungeons and Druddigons with us, then so be it."
"Okay, okay, you win; I'll make a character and join in the next round. But don't get upset if I make him a Charmander anyway."
"Awesome!" Snivy said. "See? This is what friendship's about."
"Caving in to the aggressor's demands?"
"No, it's about compromise! I'd be more concerned if we weren't bickering at all. That would probably mean that one or both of us are hiding something. And…yeah, that didn't turn out very well last time."
Locket hummed. "Our serious arguments do seem to resolve with compromise in the end. Oh, speaking of that, do you think we've gotten…better with the dungeons?"
"Well, it's been a week since you last burned me by accident, so from where I'm standing, things are looking pretty good. Don't let your guard down, though: I think both of us still have a lot to learn."
Locket looked around. The last houses of the city started to come into sight. "Hey, are we…going anywhere, or are we just wandering?"
"We're going to the forest," Snivy said. "I got a new flask and some tea. I figured it might be nice to relax in the woods a little bit, for old times' sake."
"Tea, huh? What type?"
"Persim," Snivy said. "It's got an interesting flavor to it: sweet with a bit of bite."
"So, are we going to make a little fire and heat up the water?"
"That's what I was thinking. You up for it?"
Locket nodded. "I think I'd like that very much. After all that interacting with Samuel, I need something to clear up my mind."
As they entered the woods, they gathered dried leaves and twigs from the ground and collected a few larger sticks. After they found a roughly open spot within the forest, they lit a small fire and fed it some fuel. Snivy pulled out his flask, a metal insulated container pre-filled with water. He heated it up, stuck a couple of tea bags into it, and let it steep.
Snivy handed Locket an empty tea cup and sat down. Locket took his own seat next to him. And at that, from beneath a wide and rugged oak tree, two young Pokémon reclined in the shade.
Locket stared out into the forest. Tailows and swablus and starlys harmonized with one another's chirps, decorating the sound of the shivering leaves with songs of the new season. The smell of dirt and flowers mixed with the smell of the steeping Persim tea.
"This world has a unique beauty to it," Locket said. "I'm never gonna get over it."
"I was thinking the same thing," Snivy said as he poured himself a cup. "May it never change."
Locket extended his own cup and let Snivy top him off. "Yeah, may it never change."
And so, in a world where adventure and exploration lay before their feet, they resolved to sit against the shade, sip their tea, and wait for a new show to begin.
THE END
