Disarming Voice
In my journey to date, I had seen the resting places of six legendary pokémon. One was hidden beneath a deathly waterfall, one was buried under thousands of pounds of desert sand, one was hidden deep within a mountain, one was placed within the extinct remains of a volcano, and one lay within the very foundation of an entire village. At no point did I expect to find the sixth pokémon out in the open, just sitting there on a dais where every man and his bird pokémon could see it.
"Kind of strange to see a religion based on a pokémon," I suggested.
"Not that unusual," Nova said, edifying me to the religious history of other regions. "Shintoism and Buddhism are widely practiced, plus there was an entire cult Sinnoh a while back worshipping the creation of the universe. Maybe twenty years?"
"Oh, yeah. I remember hearing about that mythology. Arceusm, right?"
"It's actually pronounced 'Ar-kay-izm'—not 'usm.'"
I shrugged. "I've heard it both ways."
Two steps in the front door, we were accosted by a monk shrouded in floor-length yellow robes, tightened around his midsection by a belt that looked like a rope. The robe had a hood, but he wore it down around his neck, revealing a head that was so round and clean-shaven you could bowl with it.
"Welcome, young ones, to the Jinn Temple," he spoke. "I am Brother Madrine. Here you will find enlightenment and meaning in the daily toils you have endured." He motioned to the backside of the temple where laborers were busy constructing a brand new extension to the narthex. "We worship the spirit of Indusylph, the divine representation of wealth, commerce, and communication. Our order preaches that earnest work and honest profit will light your path toward peace and prosperity far more effectively than the ravages of wars ever could."
I was confused. "You guys actually relish hard work?"
"Aye."
That part of my brain that hated doing schoolwork had become flabbergasted. "Why? Sitting around and doing nothing is so much more fun."
Madrine was unfazed by my candor. He retained his soft smile. "Let me ask you this: How can leisure have any meaning in the absence of hard work?"
Nova chuckled beside me. "That's what I say about it."
"Pssh," I replied, elegantly spitting all over the closest pew. Good thing the monk sitting there had his hood up.
Madrine continued his soliloquy, unfazed by my disbelief either because he was used to it or he didn't notice. "Productivity speaks greater to the soul than relaxation does. Firstly, hard work develops self-respect. Have you ever spent time playing a video game only to look at the clock and realize the time has come for sleep? You wiled away your entire day completing a task that contributed no development for you or others around you. You have gifts meant to be shared with the world. When you waste the most divine gift of time, you show you are content to dwell in selfish mediocrity. Is that truly how you wish the world to view you?"
"Sounds like an awesome day," I said.
"On the contrary, one should endeavor to fulfill one's true potential and make every precious hour count."
"That makes sense to me," said Nova with a shrug.
I scowled at her. "Don't fall for his malarkey." I looked back at the man. "You said self-respect was the first benefit of hard work. What's second?"
His smile widened, despite my resolve to antagonize him the whole way. "Hard work fights depression. Humans are hard-wired to feel the benefits of utility. That is, we desire to feel useful. Robbed of that feeling, we languish in an abyss of despair, without a clear identity or purpose."
Shaking my head just slightly, I said, "Admittedly I feel a sense of accomplishment when I finish a project. Sometimes that project is a really hard level on a video game, though." Honestly that was just to bait the guy. The Elder thought video games were a bottomless pit of dwindling intelligence. Never mind the fact that the games I played gave me the timing and coordination I would one day need to climb the waterfall without getting myself killed. Old folks just don't understand sometimes.
"Tell me, Gus. What is it you do with your days here?"
"Here? Well, I go to the bird gym and learn the weaknesses of battling bird pokémon."
"Is that so?" he asked. "It must have taken hard work to bring yourself this far. Think back to when you first began. Are you the same person you were at that time?"
"No, actually," I said. That seemed like the answer he expected to hear. "I drank from this clay goblet in the desert and metamorphosed into my present state. Before this, I used to be much taller and a woman."
Somehow Madrine ignored my flippant remark. "Whether through transformation or maturity, the troubles you have endured and the obstacles you have overcome refined your character and made you into a better man."
Nova laughed to herself. She was getting a kick out of watching me try to make this man break the party line, but I was failing. "Man! You are unflappable!"
"It is true," said the man, beaming with pride. "I cannot be flapped. It is among the benefits I derive from my worship of Indusylph. Would you hear our modest prayer?" He failed to wait for an answer before he bowed his head and chanted a short mantra. "Come to me, O guardian Indusylph, for without your aid, indolence and lethargy may claim me when only through struggle and labor can I achieve greatness in your name." He looked up at me. "Do you know what that means?"
I was still feeling glib. "That without your invisible friend a shiny object would stop you from dressing yourself in the morning."
"It means that faith in Indusylph will give us the strength to devote ourselves to hard work and prevent us from falling into a spiral of inanity." Same thing, different words.
"Isn't Indusylph a bird?" I asked, pushing harder now with my skepticism. "How is a bird the best example of hard work? They don't even have thumbs."
Madrine still bore the heavy-duty smile that could come from sleeping with a coat hanger in his mouth overnight. "Our vespers will begin shortly. Perhaps you would stay and bear witness? You may even find the opportunity to speak with Prior Roremani. His guiding light is what founded this religion. He will hold the answers to all your questions."
While the monk walked away from us, I asked Nova, "What's a vesper?"
"I'm not sure either," she said. "Let's take a seat over here and find out." Not only could we find out a little about this Indusylph religion, but every pew had a clear view of the altar where Indusylph's pokéball waited. I say "waited" and not "rested" because there was no doubt in my mind that someone was on his or her way to steal the legendary pokémon away.
We found out that a vesper was an entire prayer service scheduled for the evening time. The service began with a rendition of that same plea to the bird deity not to let us grow lazy and to always be the early bird. When the voices of an entire cathedral congregation attempted to speak in unison, it sounded very monotone and drone-like. As soon as they finished, everyone stood and withdrew from under the pews a hymnal, providing them the words to butcher and music to ignore. Although rhythm wasn't awful for most of them, they just sang in whatever key they wanted. Never had my ears experienced such torture, and I'd twice been subject to the relentless screams of Brooke's little whismur/loudred pokémon.
When the song finished, everyone sat down except for the guy on the podium in front of Indusylph. Older than The Elder, his monk robes were nothing like Madrine's. Instead of plain satin, he wore violet silks that reflected light as readily as a mirror would. No hood shrouded his face. Instead, he wore a miter the size and shape of a baby phanpy, bedazzled with jewels that matched Indusylph's pokéball in rarity.
"He must be the representation of how hard work leads to riches," I commented snidely to Nova. "I would have thought some kind of morality guide would choose a more humble appearance."
"I recognize him," she said.
"You do?" Feeling bad about mocking the religion for a moment, I asked, "He's not your dad, is he?"
"No!"
"Oh, good. Because I mean it. He's way over the top with the money. Why not just fashion his robe out of money directly? Or throw it at us. That's a good way to prove your level of wealth is something we'll never obtain."
Nova interrupted me. "Seriously, I know that face. I can't remember the guy's name, but that's definitely him. He was on the documentary I watched about the Cult of Arceism. I'm pretty sure he's the same guy who founded that cult."
"Really?" I wondered, suddenly intrigued with the service. The man on the altar had moved on to reading from their scripture, which was also located beneath the pews and conveniently bore the image of the old man's smiling face. "What a nice coincidence that this religion's sacred, ancient text just so happens to have its patriarch's visage as a logo. I thought Arceism died out, like, fifty years ago. How could the guy still be alive?"
"He was very young when he started it," Nova explained. "I imagine most people have forgotten about him since then. I don't remember the name on the documentary," Nova said. She struggled with it, though. The guy probably used a different name from his previous cult, and it was stuck on the tip of Nova's tongue. Finally she gave up. "I don't think he went by Prior Roremani back then, but I can't recall what it was."
"Don't worry about it," I said, flipping through the book. "We'll ask him about it after the show."
"You mean 'after the service,'" she corrected me.
"Either works for this situation."
After Minister Moneybags finished his sermon, he engaged the congregation in a call-and-response prayer that apparently everyone already part of the Jinn Temple knew by heart because I didn't see it written anywhere. Not very visitor-friendly. Next on the agenda was a call-and-response musical number where, once again, the term "musical" is giving this particular congregation a little too much leeway. Friar Fancypants said aloud one more prayer, and then everyone recited the benediction, which sounded a lot like the plea for focus that Madrine had told us but rephrased entirely using synonyms.
Nova frowned as the congregation began to exit the cathedral. "That service really dragged on. I thought it would never end."
"I had fun," I said. The sacred text of their religion was still in my hand. "There are some truly fascinating stories in here! Did you know that when Indusylph was still a chick, it battled against the divine Arceus who created the universe and lost? Big shock, I know. But through a combination of determination, perseverance, and old-fashioned formula storytelling, Indusylph trained hard and proved that hard work can overcome any obstacle—even divinity, apparently." I closed the book and slid it under my pew. Hopping to my feet, I surveyed the area to locate our next quarry. Abbot Affluence disappeared from the dais momentarily after the benediction, but his shiny robes were hard to miss as he made his way back to the altar, probably to count the change from this evening's collection plates.
"Excuse me, Pastor Prosperous," I shouted. The pews were close together so I had to sidle my way down the row to reach the aisle that he had just traversed.
Already on the dais, he slowly turned to look at me. It's possible that look of irritation on his face was the result of my name-calling. "Visitors to our humble temple?"
I laughed so hard I snorted a little. "Humble, yeah." Finally the distance between us shrank to only a few feet. He stood over me on the raised dais, glaring down past his flaring nostrils in a way that must have made him feel so powerful. It made me feel safe if it rained inside.
Pointing gently as I spoke, I said, "I have a few questions about that." He followed the trajectory of my finger to the pokéball towering over his head.
"Yes, kid. Indusylph is a real legendary pokémon," he said. As if he thought he could anticipate my questions, he added, "You may not see it. That glass case hasn't opened in almost a thousand years and it will not open tonight."
He somewhat predicted my question. "You're saying people follow the advice of a bird pokémon without ever even seeing it?"
"The example set by the stories of Indusylph is where we draw honor and glory," he said. "Read the scripture and you will understand the tenets of Jinnism."
"I was reading a bit during the battle of the bands you had there between the choir and the congregation. Your sermon was also intriguing. Seeing as I'm new, can you give me the Cliff Notes version?"
"Of course." His words were friendly but his expression was anything else: conniving, dismissive, and angered mixed in a bowl and plastered onto a human head. "First, to live your life as Indusylph would, you must plan your day. Reasonable people squander much of the day wondering what to do next. Know your schedule and be diligent. Set worthy goals, considering what you must accomplish that day and endeavor to prioritize it. Your goal should always benefit yourself and your fellow man. Every action you take in the day must affirmatively answer the question, 'Does this help my goal?' Likewise, do not begin with goals that are unreasonable for it will only discourage you when you might otherwise succeed on the path.
"Eliminate distractions." He glanced at Nova when he said that. If he thought girls were nothing but distractions, then I could explain how he had the time and patience to invent two different religions. "Being human, you will find it nigh impossible to be industrious from dawn to dusk. To combat that human nature, follow the guidelines affectionately referred to as the 48-12 Rule: Complete forty-eight minutes of nonstop work fully focused on the goal you established, and then take a twelve-minute break to rest your mind and restore your mental capacity."
"Fascinating philosophy," I said. It really didn't sound as much like hooey as I thought it would. I asked, "How is that different from Arceism?"
In a flash, the color drained from his skin. Roremani quickly pasted on his face a smile of such understanding and forgiveness that I almost atoned right then and there for the sin of knowing too much. But no amount of prevarication or friendly banter could hide what he revealed to me in that fraction of a second. Nova was right. He was the same guy in the Cult of Arceism. He started this worship of Indusylph as another get-rich-quick scheme, and it was successful.
"I'm afraid I know very little about Arceism," he lied. "That sounds like a Sinnoh religion."
"It is," I conceded.
Nova stepped in with her two cents. "Don't you think it's kind of strange for a religious leader to have no familiarity with other religions of the world?"
That wasn't a road I wanted to travel with this guy. I pushed her aside and put myself directly between her and Roremani. "Sorry about that, Reverend Rich-man. I just want to confirm: Indusylph is definitely in there?" I pointed to the pokéball again.
Roremani was happy to segue, no matter how abruptly. "Of course. That case is impenetrable. The forefathers of this temple saw to it the pokémon would never be disturbed."
"Is there any kind of key to open it up?"
"There is no such key," he said. "If there ever was, it has been lost to time. It is likely gone forever."
"You've tried bombarding it with pokémon attacks?" I thought it was a valid question. Sure, most trees were strong enough to resist a head butt from even the most hardheaded of creatures, but one could never be too careful with this particular box.
Roremani sighed. Finally my questions exhausted him and he was forced to sit in the pulpit. "Fire can't melt it, rocks can't smash it, steel can't pierce it, and psychic maneuvering has proven futile in picking the lock. Consider its construction to be something of the fifth element—a substance heretofore unknown to humanity and, therefore, unconquerable."
"What about electricity?"
"This glass-like material is an insulator," he replied. "What is this truly about?"
"Yeah, Gus," Nova said. She gently touched the crook of my elbow. "Why are you so curious about that pokéball?"
Of all my options, the truth seemed like the easiest explanation. But not the one I went with first. "I'm a box aficionado," I said. "The fact that this receptacle has remained undamaged for a thousand years fascinates me. I would love to build a replica for my Voltron action figures—you know; help the value appreciate by keeping it in mint condition."
For reasons far beyond my comprehension, neither of them bought my story. Nova was even so audacious as to tell me flat-out, "That's not true. The only receptacle you mentioned the whole time we've been in here was the pokéball itself."
I glared at her across the span of an instant. "Way to tattle on me," I snapped. I turned back to Roremani and admitted proudly and with full, open body language, "Alright, I confess. I'm worried that someone will soon be here to steal that pokémon."
Nova gasped. "What?"
"Preposterous," scoffed the patriarch. "Such a feat is unheard of. Nay, it is impossible. No human or pokémon alive can infiltrate that box."
"You underestimate the resourcefulness of Team Omega," I assured him. "Plus, I'm not so sure they're all human." I listened to the old man hem and haw for a few minutes, fully realizing how ridiculous the notion may sound that a thousand-year-old religious relic may suddenly be of interest of people. "If you're so certain of the pokéball's security, then it can't hurt to let me keep an eye on it for a few days, right? I can help guard it as long as I'm in town."
"Guard it?" the old man said with a laugh. At first I was sure he would object on the grounds of some fabricated right to privacy. To my surprise, however, he said, "You may aid in the protection of this shrine if you so wish."
"I may?" I asked, taken aback by the answer. Suddenly I wanted more. "Okay. My compensation is five percent of the collection plates."
"No," he replied instantly.
"How about a special psalm tomorrow telling Byrd to accept my gym challenge a couple of days early?"
"No." Again, no hesitation at all.
"Access to a water fountain so my pokémon and I don't dehydrate."
"Deal." See? You just have to lower your standards enough and people are much more amenable. "Now I beg your leave." He shuffled away as quickly as his old legs would take him. His gait might be smoother if he weren't weighed down by all that opulence, but he escaped further conversation with me, just as he'd wanted to. His robes dragged the ground behind him and he walked with a hunch. I know it was just a side effect of aging, but it looked like he could have been dragging luggage behind him.
Nova looked puzzled when I turned to her. "You are so sure someone will come to steal that pokéball?"
"I am," I said. "Never more sure of anything. In the mother of all coincidences, why do you think one of the Elite Four is staying in the village? Do you really believe such a high-ranking pokémon official would come to this backwoods place just to announce for an air show? No, she knows there's something going on and she wants to be here to nab the perpetrators in the act."
"Maybe she'll arrest that fraudulent crone." Nova's tone was dripping with disgust. She couldn't understand how people could be so easily duped by the ramblings of a man who already proved himself a con artist to the people of Sinnoh.
"One problem at a time," I said. After all, Roremani was just suffocating the economy by leaving people with a little less money. Compared to Team Omega's ambition of gathering legendary pokémon, throwing the whole ecosystem into chaos each time, a little economic fraud was small potatoes.
In my zeal, I had forgotten to schedule my gym challenge with Byrd at the Jinn Temple. Turns out he wouldn't have accepted it anyway. He admitted that while he can appreciate anyone with the bias for action to seek him out as soon as possible, he considered time at the temple to be sacred time. Those who interrupt his worship time there also upset him, thereby lengthening their wait for an official challenge, if they even receive one. Long story short: I had three days to prepare for my gym battle while protecting Indusylph's pokéball from Team Omega.
For the next three days I practiced as much as I could with the other trainers in the gym, practicing with my smaller pokémon to grow accustomed to treetop battles. It took some time for them to move well enough to handle the fluid, stealthy ways that birds could move through the air. Several times I had a miniature heart attack when Siggy or Conch fell off a tree branch and I barely managed to return them to their pokéballs before they could fall very far. Fortunately Clara could fly and Reggie had sharp claws that helped him stay put whenever he got scared.
Reggie was getting good at leaping from limb to limb, too. He never once got stuck… after the first time he got stuck. Seriously, there was just this one instance where my poor immolion climbed so high he was terrified to climb back down. After I regained my composure and stopped laughing at the pathetic mews coming from such a large feline, I returned him to the pokéball to help. He was fine ever since that moment.
I spent lunch breaks at the Jinn Temple, always with either Conch or Siggy. Since they struggled the most when battling so high above solid ground, I allowed them to be the ones guarding Indusylph in my stead. I brought them lunch and dinner each day, often stopping to listen to a sermon preached by Roremani.
After one particularly rousing sermon about how everyone should work hard while young so the body will be well trained to work hard when it's old, Roremani approached me with a telling grin on his face.
"You've been here a lot lately," he said. "Are you still convinced some wicked force will attempt to steal our guardian spirit?"
"I'm surprised the thought never occurred to you," I said.
He put on that kind of smile your grandfather might when he's about to tell you a secret that took him forty years to realize, and he's hoping you'll understand without that forty years' experience. "I believe we are safe from that eventuality because he is our guardian deity. Every citizen of this village is a sentinel to keep Indusylph from harm because his presence maintains our wellbeing. Without him, pokémon would grow wilder and may begin attacking people outside or even within the village."
I said, "I've heard that before."
"Then you understand that people can be trusted to act most securely in their own interests. If something is keeping you safe, why change anything?"
That sounded an awful lot like superstitious behavior to me. It's like claiming you avoid bad luck because you've never walked under a ladder. Like if just one time you walk around a ladder and experience some form of bad luck then you're going to start walking under it every time instead? I don't think so. But I chose not to voice my opinion in this matter. I noticed the people of Wolfram got a little testy whenever I questioned them about their religion.
"You're still okay with my coming here?" I asked, confirming what he had told me earlier.
"Your request was to help maintain the safety of Indusylph. Of course you may." He beamed at me. "After all, you may be doing Indusylph's work in your own way."
"Really?"
"Oh, yes," he insisted. "Just ask yourself this: Does your current goal benefit yourself and those around you?"
He gave me a moment of silence to reflect on my answer. I guess I hadn't thought it through until that question was asked of me, but Roremani preached Indusylph's "teachings" as a way to convince people to set goals and work toward them every day. Technically, wasn't that what I was doing? I came to the temple each day to ward off Team Omega, and any effort to keep them away was surely beneficial to my fellow humans. Not only that: It benefitted me and my pokémon by urging us to grow stronger—strong enough to fight off any one of those super-powered Omega officers that might attack.
"It seems you have your answer. You would make a fine apostle in the service of Indusyph," Roremani said. He appeared to be pleased with himself as he turned away from me, still dragging that luggage underneath his gown. Before he was too far, he called out, "Enjoy the service when you come in tonight."
With his back to us, he didn't hear Nova say, "I don't like that guy."
"Holy cow!" I yelped, startled by her sudden presence. "Nova? When did you get here?"
"I walked in with you," she said, giving me a look.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. You said you were going to check on your fishtain and Indusylph, and I said I was going to hear whatever baloney the preacher was doling out today."
I shook my head. "I have no recollection of this."
"You had half a meatball sub in your hand."
"I remember the sandwich," I said. My stomach growled pleasantly. "Definitely remember the sandwich. In fact, you've convinced me to go for another."
She nodded, but she didn't stand up to follow me. Her glare remained fixed upon Roremani as he conversed with other parishioners of the temple.
"You're seriously annoyed with Cardinal Luxury?"
"He's a fraud," she reminded me.
"He's not harming anyone. Plus, I don't think this is technically illegal. People have every right to stop listening to him at any time. There is no coercion for them to continue their worship." She didn't seem to buy my excuses. "Are you going to be offended if I go back to the gym and keep training?"
Nova paused for a painfully long moment before finally answering, "Go ahead. I'll be along soon."
"Okay." Hesitantly, I backed away from her step by step, keeping my eye on her each moment to ensure she didn't shoot me any dirty looks. When I reached a safe distance from her, I turned and hurried out the temple doors as quickly as I could. All that and we're not even dating, I thought to myself.
Finally, it was the night before my gym challenge with Byrd. I stopped by the Jinn Temple once more to check on Siggy. As always, he was comfortable in his hammock, swaying gently with the current of air flowing through the narthex. He showed no signs of any action whatsoever, let alone signs of battling a would-be thief.
"I don't get it," I complained while I fed Siggy. "I've only ever been a few days ahead of Team Omega. How are they not here yet to steal Indusylph?"
Nova had joined me for the sermon once more despite her glaring contest with Roremani's backside. "How are you sure that you're ahead of them?" she asked poignantly.
I was struck by the lightning bolt of epiphany. She astutely pinpointed the root of the whole problem. "Of course! You must be right. Use your head, Gus!" I smacked myself in the side of the head, eliciting a wince and a soft yelp from Nova. "All the other temples were hidden. You just happened to be there when they were uncovered. This temple is out in the open air! How could anyone not know where Indusylph's pokéball was located?"
Nova frowned. "Are you saying Team Omega already knows about it?"
"They have to." My voice dropped as I admitted to myself the unfortunate next step I had to take in order to protect us all from Valence.
Late at night, I crawled upside the second tier of the double-eave roof atop the Jinn Temple. I slid back down twice, but finally I found the right posture to shift my center of gravity where I needed it. Siggy popped open one of the small windows for me and I slipped inside. Although there was sufficient moonlight breaking the stained glass inside the spire, the darkness of the cathedral was almost absolute. Worried for my safety, I clung to the support joist and rode it like a fireman's pole, only it was fatter than a pole and had corners that dug splinters into my skin. Siggy tried to help remove them, but he just ended up lubing my forearms and pushing the splinters further in, so I thanked him and called Reggie out to literally shed some light on the situation.
The temple looked like it always did, although the shadows cast by Reggie's flaming hair were even creepier when I considered how easily something or someone could hide in the space between the pews. I stopped when I thought I saw something duck under a pew. Reggie pounced, but nothing was there save the hymnal and Roremani's self-published ancient religious text. I didn't wait for Reggie before heading down the main aisle like I should have. A stanchion jumped out and clocked me right on the leg before falling over and clanging loudly on the carpeted floors. Carpets weren't thick enough to absorb the sound from the marble foundation, apparently. After swearing at the inanimate object about how many of its children I would murder, I held my throbbing leg in silence and waited to see how many people heard that. After five minutes of nothing happening, I stood up.
With Reggie in front and Siggy bringing up the rear, we made it to the altar without further incident or causing any alternative alarms. The glass box shielding Indusylph's pokéball was right where it always was. So odd to me how easy it was to break in. All I had to do was finagle the lock and get the box open. A legendary pokémon was not only being worshipped out in the open, but its nightly security was abysmal.
Of course mine was the best strategy. If Team Omega was after this pokémon, then I had to protect it from them. I couldn't stay in Wolfram Village forever, attending daily services and waiting inside the Jinn Temple. I had to take action. Brooke knew the truth even before I did: A legendary pokémon was safer with me than it was locked away inside its forgotten temple. Especially when that temple was frequented every day by hundreds of people.
Indusylph was out of reach, so I called on my secret weapon to help me reach it. She snorted in defiance at my request, but Elly obediently turned around and squatted beneath the raised dais. Her backside formed something of a staircase for me to climb, and I didn't have to worry about my weight squashing her like it would Reggie or Siggy. Elly was easily taller than I needed her to be to reach the lock.
The locking mechanism on the box wasn't at all what I expected. I had brought some thin, pointed implements with expectations of reaching inside and pushing a locking bar out of place. But this was a puzzle lock about the size of my hand. Although miniature, it was nearly identical to the other puzzle doors I had seen within the other legendary temples. The difference was not only in the size but in the sheer number of holes available in the pegboard lock. I counted more than four hundred holes, plus I had more than one hundred pegs available. By my precise calculations, the number of possible solutions was longer than my natural life if I started counting right away. It also seemed to me that, unlike the earlier locks I encountered, which were clearly amorphous without the pegs in place, this one had a distinctly round shape.
Luckily for me, I had some experience with these locks. That prior knowledge gave me a starting point. All I had to do was look up. The design within the stained-glass windows was the key. Without the pegboard for guidance, it looked like a ten-pointed star surrounding an eight-pointed star. I tried to replicate the image within the lock's concentric circles, using the handle in the center as the focal point.
It was an unusual design. Of the eight holes possible inside the innermost circle, I only used two: the very top and the very bottom. The second layer offered another sixteen holes. I placed a peg in every alternating hole, lining up the top and bottom pegs with the first circle I completed. Each successive layer had more holes available. I filled in every hole that perfectly aligned with the innermost circle, forming a straight line bisecting the circles. The next two circles accepted pegs in almost every slot, but the two outer circles had only a few to give the appearance of the star's shine, and the outermost circle was empty—a ruse, most likely, to present the puzzle as exceptionally more challenging than it already was. I ended up using only seventy-four pegs and left the others outside the pegboard.
My design wasn't perfect at first. The lock didn't open right away. In all honesty, I had little reason to think it, but I was certain that star was the right answer. I whipped my head back and forth between the pictures and the board in an effort to figure out where I messed up. I shifted a few pegs here and there until I heard a noticeable click!
"I did it," I uttered. The side of the box slid open as the invisible security mechanism loosened its grip. Now there was literally nothing to stop me from grabbing the pokéball inside. The moment felt surreal. This was the first time I went for one of these pokéballs while absolutely aware of the implications. I was going to take the power of a legendary pokémon into my hand.
The moment of contact felt anticlimactic. Nothing happened. No Omegas burst into the room to flank me, no divine light shone down from the heavens to worship me as the Chosen One. Just me standing on the back of a wyrmnir with a pokéball in my hand. But there was something wrong. It felt light. Too light. On a whim, I pressed the switch in the center and unlocked the pokéball. The mechanism slid out of place and the ball popped open.
It was empty.
Apologies begin for the late post. I had a wedding to attend this weekend, which involved a round-trip drive one state over. I got home on Sunday and almost immediately got sick. It's difficult to focus on writing/editing when you keep praying to the porcelain god. Great weekend and an awful weekend simultaneously.
Thanks go to Riverlightillusion for proofreading for me again. Even if I don't leave too many typos behind, hearing a few initial thoughts is helpful for ensuring I get the tone I wanted. And as is common for the past several chapters, thanks to Psychotic Ralts for contributing Nova to the story. In the next chapter, we'll find out what happened to Indusylph. Any preliminary guesses are welcome and exciting to me.
Trivia: In case you haven't noticed it yet, Indusylph = industry + sylph, industry being "energetic devotion to a task or an endeavor." A sylph is one of four elemental beings alongside undine, salamander, and gnome. It is also the name given to the violet-tailed sylph, a gorgeous hummingbird I used as a model for Indusylph's physical appearance.
