Chapter XXI

Nova ran like a tempest.

The breeze felt like roaring waves as she darted through the night, her Golbat and Staravia soaring above her, Barry's footsteps growing distant as he and his Prinplup fell more and more behind. Still, she didn't wait for him; she just flung herself out of Hearthome, over sharp rocks and through trees, her hair whipping her face.

Nova, herself, had no idea how long she had been running. She had no idea where she was running.

All she knew was that her feet were leading her towards the voice. Towards the scream.

Because, by Arceus, the last time she had heard that scream-

It had been when she had thought Puck was dying. It had been before she had even properly met the girl who had screamed.

And that girl had been—

"Bebe," Nova called out. "Bebe!"

There the small girl lay, coughing, a hand to her mouth – a hand that, after another cough, shone red in the moonlight. Her mask abandoned beside her. Her Glameow still and unmoving beside her.

"Bebe?"

Nova fell beside the child, a hand pressed against her face, shaking her as she coughed up another mouthful of sticky, filthy, bloody red.

"Bebe!"

The gladiator leaned close and breathed in – smelling ale and smoke and… and…

Livia the Golbat screeched, and Nova understood.

Poison.

Nova's heart sank in her chest.

"No…" she breathed out. She lifted the child in her arms, cradled her in her chest. "Bebe…"

Bebe's eyes fluttered open then. She held the gladiator's hand, slick with blood, tears in her eyes. "Nova? It… It hurts…"

"Oh, no, Bebe…" was all Nova could gasp out. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry…"

Nova sobbed, then. Sobbed as she screamed for help. Sobbed as she yelled for anyone – anyone at all who would hear – and wiped the tears from Bebe's eyes. She swore at Arceus. She swore at the one or two men who passed by her and shook their heads in sympathy. She swore at herself.

For failing. For not looking out for her.

For letting her die.

No, no, no, no…

"Am I going to die, Nova?"

Bebe's teeth were slick with red as she spoke. Nova squeezed her hand.

"You are not going to die," she said. "You hear me, Bebe? You're going to be fine."

"I'm scared, Nova."

"You're going to be fine. I'm going to carry you to Hearthome, and we'll get to Joy, and she'll have something-"

Bebe squeezed her eyes shut and groaned, curling up tighter. Nova held the girl to her chest – as if she were the one dying, as if Bebe was the one who could save her. The kohl smudged around her eyes, running down her cheeks like black tears as she watched Bebe twist in agony, in horror, in anguish-

She couldn't move the small girl without causing her more pain. And there was no way she would be quick enough. She needed Joy here.

"Someone, help us! Please!" Nova cried out. "Someone! Bailey, go get Joy-"

Nova's chest was heaving. Her body was shaking. She hugged Bebe tighter, face twisted with helpless rage, teeth bared, fingers curled like claws.

She would find the person who poisoned her. She would find them and tear their fucking throat out with her bare hands.

But for all her rage – for all her strength as she tried to lift Bebe in her arms – there was a foe that she couldn't defeat.

And that was death itself.

"I'm scared, Nova…"

Nova smoothed Bebe's blonde hair. Straightened her dress. Smiled through her tears. "I have you. Don't be scared. I'm here. Nova is here…"

"A goodnight kiss?"

A sob.

"Bebe, please, you'll be okay…"

Nova's face crumpled, her shoulders wracking and shaking, her heart and voice hollow as she cried. Bebe pressed a small, trembling hand to Nova's cheek, smudging it with red.

"A goodnight kiss, Nova?"

And what could Nova do? Let the small child go without saying goodbye?

So, with her eyes closed, Nova kissed the girl on her bloody cheek. On her golden hair. On her small, small hand. Blood on her mouth. Water in her eyes. Shadows rolling around her.

She had made a promise to Joy. She had made a promise…

And now…

With one final heartbeat, her promise was broken.

Joy came only seconds after, Barry, Happiny, and Bailey right behind her. She took one glance at the dead girl, at the dead Glameow, at the crying gladiator with her Golbat.

And the healer's face crumpled.

"Bebe! Bebe!" Joy cried out, collapsing beside Nova, snatching the child into her arms. "My baby, no… Please wake up. Wake up! Please, please…"

Nova felt sick just watching her. She felt sick and angry and numb and tired and hurt-

"What's this?" Joy suddenly asked.

The healer's hand was on the mask beside Bebe, the paper scrunched up on it. Her red eyes skimmed the paper, reading and reading, sobbing as she read, her teeth gritting as she read and read and read-

And suddenly, Joy dropped the paper and slapped Nova on the face.

"You bitch!" she hissed. "You absolute fucking bitch!"

Nova held her face.

Sick. Numb. Angry. Tired. Hurt.

And too weak to say anything as the healer wrapped her fingers around her neck and squeezed.

"I'll kill you," Joy snapped. "I'll kill you, you bitch. You stinking whore. You fucking-"

Nova didn't fight back, even as her vision turned dark. She let Joy scratch her face, let the healer slap her again and again-

Even in her numbness, she could hear Barry telling Joy to back off. She could see him and Bailey working together to rip Joy away from her throat, could see him telling her never to touch his best friend like that ever again.

"Leave her, Barry," Nova said quietly. "Let her."

But Barry refused. He held Joy tightly by the wrists.

"All of this is because of you," Joy was crying out, desperately trying to yank herself free from Barry's grip, her gaze locked onto Nova. "If we had never met you, Bebe would still be alive. None of this would have happened. You filthy fucking whore. Look what you've done. Look what you've done, you murderer!"

Even Barry was stunned by the words. He jerked back, and suddenly, the healer was out of his hands and back onto the gladiator, reaching for her throat, ready to strangle her.

It was then that knights came. One of them screamed something about the girl with pink hair going mad, and with a short word from Barry, they were all pulling Joy back, saying something about taking the mad witch to Hearthome, something about waiting for her to regain her senses.

Joy screamed and cried and swore in their arms as they marched her back to Hearthome. And Nova could only watch and croak, her hands still wet with blood.

A few knights stayed to ask if Nova had killed the small child in her lap. Nova almost said yes. Barry interrupted her and told the knights to piss off.

And, when they were gone, Barry fell beside his best friend and touched her shoulder. Prinplup and Staravia and Golbat all whimpering beside them.

"Nova…"

"Go to Hearthome and tell the knights that Joy is not a mad witch. Make sure she's okay for me."

Barry frowned. "I want to make sure you're okay."

"I'll be okay if you fucking go and look after Joy."

And though the blind boy looked dubious, he finally stumbled onto his feet.

"I'll tell your Pokémon to come look for you here."

"Just go."

She didn't see when he left. She was too busy reaching for Bebe, straightening the girl's hair, touching her cold cheeks.

And, as she leaned down, the gracidea flower fell from her hair and onto Bebe's heart.

Just like that, the gladiator knew exactly what to do.

Lucas, who had been chasing after the screaming and swearing for himself, had found Barry before the gladiator had even reached Hearthome. There was a quick exchange of words – something about Bebe being dead, something about Joy being taken by knights, something about Nova sounding like absolute death.

The blind gladiator even cried, then, with his Prinplup and Nova's Staravia keening behind him. And Lucas snapped to action.

He barked orders to the nearest knights he could find, demanding that they find the knights that took Joy and release her immediately. With a weak smile, Barry insisted on coming with them, linking his arms with a knight and asking them if he could wipe his snot on their armour.

Then, Lucas was running further into the grassland and rocks. He tried to look for a trail of blood, but there was none at all – just the smell of ale and sweat.

And, as he followed the scent, he found himself outside the Lost Tower. The pillar of stone that only the royals and legionaries used to bury their loved ones.

There stood Nova, blood on her hands and face, Bebe in her arms, Golbat behind her. She was just by the entrance, where two knights stood, blocking the door.

"What do you want, miss?" one of them asked her. Ignoring the limp body in her arms.

"I want to bury my sister."

"And who is your sister?"

"Lady Bebe or Floaroma."

The knight arched his brow. "Is she a legionary? A royal?"

"No."

"Are you a legionary? A royal?"

"No."

"Then piss off," the knight said with a snort. "Toss her in the river. Dump her in the waste. It all gets sent to Twinleaf, anyways-"

He screamed as Golbat scratched his face. The other one reached for his belt, to grab his Pokéballs, but Lucas took a step forward.

"No," he called out to his fellow knights. "She may pass."

Nova didn't even turn back to face him. She just slipped between the knights and darted into the tower.

Both her Golbat and Lucas followed her as she ran up crumbling staircase after crumbling staircase, her gaze as hard as steel, her face completely blank.

And Lucas could only watch as she reached the top – not even panting – where only the true royalty lay. Not even the children of kings and queens were buried there – only the kings and queens themselves.

But it was there that Nova chose to fall to her knees and dig with her bare, bleeding hands. She threw mud everywhere, letting it splatter her face, but being oh, so careful not to let a single bit of dirt touch the small girl on her lap.

Lucas knew he would be in trouble for helping her. Hell, he was already in shits for letting her pass.

Yet, he still moved to her side, sank to his knees, and helped her dig. His own nails bleeding as he scraped the cold, hard dirt. His own tunic dark with mud.

And, by Arceus, when Nova glanced up at him with utter shock and agony in her face, when she reached out and touched his cheek and nodded-

He knew what he had to do.

Even if it meant throwing himself into shits.

Nova didn't stop digging for a second until she and Lucas had dug a hole deep enough and long enough to fit Bebe's body. Even then, she didn't let herself rest – she swallowed down the knots in her throat and lowered her friend into her grave, saying a last goodbye, kissing a final farewell.

When she found whoever had poisoned her, when she got her filthy hands on whoever wanted to hurt the girl who could have changed the world with her infectious grin and big ideas and endless stretches of hope-

She would make them bleed. She would make them suffer.

Why would someone poison Bebe? Why? Why? Had someone at the dance spiked the apple juice for sport? Were there other people in Hearthome, choking on their own blood, taking their final breaths?

Livia moaned as Lucas flattened the dirt around them. Nova turned to the Golbat and touched her face.

"Livia," she said softly, "I want you to stay here and guard this grave with your life. Can you do that for me, my love?"

The Golbat nodded and nudged her head against Nova.

Still, Nova felt sick. All around her, there were graves of royals – graves with tall, marble statues of the dead, graves with poems written over the tombstones, graves with silk and flowers draped over them.

And all Bebe had was a single gracidea flower atop her grave.

A few minutes later, though, Lucas was standing up and moving to the corner of the room, where the stack of unused tombstones lay. Then, he was dragging one towards her, sweat along his brow, quietly fixing it upon Bebe's grave.

He took out his sword, placing it close to the stone, ready to write, when Nova snatched it from his hands.

"I want to do it," she told him.

It took her more than a few minutes to remember what Bebe had taught her about spelling. About writing the girl's name. Bibi, Beebee – what did the spelling matter when she was dead?

But Nova didn't carve a single letter until she was sure she was right.

Because it did matter. Her friend mattered.

And so, there and then, November of Twinleaf wrote her very first word.

Bebe.

And, somewhere behind and before and above and beneath her, two voices spoke. Watching her in a way that she couldn't watch them.

"…poor wee lass. time has been cruel to her…"

"…AYE…"

"…and who killed the child?..."

"…ONLY TIME WILL TELL…"

"…and i suppose now is when i acquaint myself with her?..."

"…AYE. BE NICE TO HER…"

"…don't be ridiculous. you know i'm never nice to anyone…"

So, readers and writers, you must be wondering: what was on the letter that Joy had read?

Well, since I'm feeling oh, so generous – and, in all honestly, rather pitiful towards your weak little hearts – I thought I'd let you see the letter for yourself:

This is a warning, November of Twinleaf. End your gladiator journey here. Go back to the wastes.

Otherwise, this lass won't be the only one who suffers. Your other friends will be next.

So, you see, lovely readers and writers, the letter was meant for our dear November.

'Tis a shame our sweet little bitch can't read, aye?

I'm sorry. This wasn't even a spontaneous decision. I knew this would be happening from the second I decided to introduce her.

And now, with this chapter concluded, we are well into the tango that is this second arc.

Also, I decided to rewrite the prologue, for anyone who is curious to do a quick reread. The initial prologue had been written and published well before I had fully fleshed out my plot to myself, and it showed. I quite like the revamp.

Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited, and reviewed. Every notification that arrives in my inbox makes my heart skip a beat. Thank you very much!