Stepping into Hammerlocke City, now alone again, Dagda noticed one important thing. The city, which seemed to be built out of an ancient castle, was immense. There were streets lined with shops and houses as far as his eyes could see, and the stadium was massive as well.
It was built into the central tower of Hammerlocke, the castle looking like an elaborate fortress designed to show off the wealth and power of whoever owned it. It was something that modern architecture wouldn't dare try to replicate, the budget likely a number large enough to give some people heart attacks.
However, he knew full well that he'd be unable to challenge this town's gym leader. Raihan, a veteran trainer with many skills, between his mastery of Dragon types, to his Double Battle specialty and mastery over weather, he had earned his spot as the most powerful gym leader in the region.
Instead, Dagda had another goal. On his way towards the next Gym Leader, which he was told was to the west of Hammerlocke, Dagda would search for knowledge, and he'd train along the way. His first stop was a large local library. He wanted to find something.
He scoured the shelves, looking for anything about Halflings. A comic book, an old reference material, or even a fictional novel that seemed too informed on Halflings. He couldn't find much, and he honestly found it rather aggravating. Although, he did notice something.
It was about he himself. Since his attack, and since interacting with that Grimmsnarl, Dagda became fully aware of the fact that he didn't tie his hair up anymore. He'd grown more confident in the length and luster of his hair, something he'd always tied up since his childhood.
Secondly, the hair on his arms and legs. He had noticed that the shade of black across his body had changed a little, growing darker. Dagda thought it was odd, as he noted during his first battle with Bede that even though his arm was engulfed in flames, his hair was unaffected.
He struggled as he searched, able to find random books and research material on a great number of things, but none on what he was looking for. Was the region truly out of the loop? How long had they been out of the loop, infact? Or even worse, why were they out of the loop? Dagda shook his head. He didn't like that.
Perhaps it was an aspect of his self esteem issues redirected at something important to him, but Dagda was rather worried about the possibility that someone in charge of the region, be it their royal family's living members, the Pokemon League, or another group in the shadows, would close the region off like this.
He noticed that there were a lot of books about Galar, and only Galar. It was very rare for Dagda to come across something that mentioned all of the other regions, specifically Kalos, Unova and Sinnoh. It was a rather odd pattern. Even Alola had more material to look at than the other three regions.
"Is something the matter?" Dagda heard, snapped out of his trance by the librarian. She was a slightly older woman, heavyset with graying brown hair. She wore a pair of glasses that were chained, so to not hit the ground. Dagda shook his head, smiling.
"Not at all. I'm just having a hard time finding something." he said, quietly. She looked to him, narrowing her grayish blue eyes and making a face. "You think you can find what you're looking for?" she asked, and Dagda shrugged. "I don't think so. I'm sure at least an hour or two has gone by and I haven't found anything yet." he said, and she nodded.
"I understand. Although, I'm sure you won't find it." she said, and Dagda rose a brow. Was she aware of what he was looking for? Did he reveal his desire for knowledge with his movement, or the pattern of things he looked for? She shook her head.
She put a book in her hands down, scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Go to this address. Tell the person living there that I sent you." she said, and Dagda looked to the paper, and then to the librarian.
Something was off about this, but he chose to ignore it. He bowed to her, thanking the woman before heading out of the library. He looked at the adress, scanning various small streets built on what were likely once the halls of the mighty castle.
He noted that the number on the house was rather low, meaning that it was supposed to be close to the corner, if not right front of him. However, the name of the street was what he couldn't identify. Each house numbered, visible markings on the house itself or the mailbox that let Dagda know if he was close.
He soon noticed the sun was descending in the sky, leaving him agitated as he continued his search. Was this all a ploy? Did the librarian trick him because she didn't want him in the library? Or did she know what he was looking for and was trying to mislead him?
The one eyed boy shook his head. He looked about, noticing something to the west of his current location. He saw a street that was broader at the end than the others, and he jogged down it's brick pathway.
He noticed that there was a small turn in what looked like the wrong direction, and up against the black brick of the castle was a small house, something that Dagda would have missed if he didn't scour so thoroughly. And sure enough, it match the location on the card. With a small sign outside reading 'One Accelgor Way', Dagda approached the tiny house.
He knocked on the door, which was painted to match the head of an Accelgor, the house the same bluish color of the bug type Pokemon, which was a rare sight in Galar. He heard footsteps, and they were slow, and rather quiet. He looked to the doorknob, which was in the shape of a Shelmet's puckering lips, watching as it turned slowly.
When it did, Dagda glanced down, met with a very small, very old woman. Her hair was thin and stark white, her face riddled with wrinkles that made her look like leather. She looked up to him with blue eyes that were still incredibly bright, and she smiled. "How may I help you, Sweetie?" she asked, and Dagda shook his head, snapping out of it.
"Um… the librarian said for me to come here. She said that maybe you'd have the kind of book I was looking for." he said, and she hummed. The old woman shuffled back, her Shelmet slippers sliding across the dark wooden floor. "Come on in Dear." she said, and Dagda nodded.
He bowed respectfully before entering her house, hesitating as soon as he did. He noticed that it was much larger on the outside than it appeared on the outside. And from floor to ceiling, on every wall except the one by a small fireplace and a small TV mounted on atop it, were books. A massive amount.
"You can read anything I have as long as you put it back exactly where you found it. It took me some time to get it the way it is you know." she said, chuckling to herself as she began shuffling back to a single chair near the fireplace, surrounded by a pair of small tables, Dagda noticing a half knit hat resting on one. Dagda nodded to her again, finding the whole situation rather odd. He began looking, hoping that he could learn anything at all about Halflings, or what turned Galar into the canned trophy hunt it was.
The woman smiled, knitting at her own pace as she watched the young boy scour her collection. She could tell that he wasn't finding what he wanted, but he was finding a little something, because he spent a couple of minutes with each book, as if he was hungry for knowledge but starved on time.
She looked to the hat she was knitting. It was made out of one of her favorite materials. It was silk, but she managed to get it dyed blue from her fabric dealer. She did love having colored fabric to deal with. This hat was for one of the younger Hammerlocke children that spent time with her, a chipper fellow with an accent from his hometown of Hau'Oli.
She could see the fascination on the boys face start to shift, changing into frustration as he started to spend less time with each book. Of course, she could tell from her years on this planet that he wasn't uninterested, just agitated. Something was weighing very heavily on his mind, and he seemed to be looking for a book that could help him.
"You might want to look further back." she said, the boy glancing to the far wall, nodding his thanks to her before heading over. She knew her collection very well. It was special to her, and she could tell exactly which books he'd picked up, and what they were about.
Books about Sinnoh in Ancient times, books about the history of Pokemon in Hoenn. A book about the religious faiths found in Unova, and even about ancient Johto languages. She could tell that one of the books he'd put back in a hurry was about ancient Kanto forms of writing, and even one about Kalosian cuisine before the advent of the stove.
All were books that fascinated him, but she could tell that none of them were what he was looking for. Of course, he was getting closer and closer to his goal. She could really tell, as he grabbed a book she got at a book fair in Kanto, about the ancient Ransei region.
Dagda looked through the pages of the book, awestruck at what he was reading. There was an ancient region shaped like Arceus, and the warlords and shoguns of that time were the direct allies and champions of godlike Legendary Pokemon? Dagda found this incredible, and he noticed that each of the warlords was said to be incredibly strong.
They were a presence on the battlefield, and said to be a presence elsewhere, be it their status, clothing or what have you, as they were written in this book as being people with incomparable presence, the type that could control the focus of everyone around them. Dagda found this rather interesting and he flipped to the next page.
He noticed that the writing was a bit different, as if this page was written by someone different, the older, handwritten book made out of some kind of durable parchment. He began scanning the lines, his brow continuing to furrow.
This second author was obviously a doctor, as he began to focus on the function of the human body, and about differences of the people living in his land. He narrowed his eyes at some of the terms being used. He couldn't really grasp this ancient language, which was just barely the same form of writing he knew. It pertained to a woman named Gracia Akechi, daughter of one of Ransei's Emperor's. More specifically, it was about her pregnancy.
Dagda read many, many odd things that didn't sound normal, even to a shut in like him. They spoke of her pregnancy not being very long, only four, perhaps five months at most. It spoke of the woman having an immense shift in attitude, and even when she rose to prominence after her father's passing, it mentioned that she maintained this change in attitude.
However, Dagda noticed that it didn't speak much on her child, a girl that was rarely mentioned, spoken of in this tome with the name 'Hinata Akechi', a name that Dagda swore he'd heard in a play before.
He continued flipping through, noticing that the original author returned, and his tone shifted. It spoke of the disciples of the God of Divinity, Arceus the Divine One, rising up and using his worshipers to strike people down. It sounded like a horrid end to such a nice book. He flipped another page.
He was met with the final page, and the only thing on the page was a simple sketch. It confused him, and he stared at it intently. On it, there was a cherubic figure, a six winged infant wearing a black cloth. Being the only color in the book, Dagda assumed this was incredibly important.
The child had clear skin, it's eyes closed, posed in a cross legged sitting position with it's fat hands on it's lap. A head of black hair with flecks of pink about it sat on the child's skull almost like a crown, his body surrounded by the most peculiar things.
Firstly, there were a pair of wings that looked much like an Articuno's, but purple, pointing down. In the center were a pair of Braviary wings, and at the top, poised and broad, were a pair of wings that looked identical to a Zekrom.
Dagda looked to the bottom of the page, noticing but a few lines etched at the bottom of the page, long, elegant strokes that conveyed a sense of emotion unto them. He read them carefully, wondering exactly what this drawing meant.
'May he deliver us from the Dark Light. May he bring our honor back. He of the Emperor's blood, He of the Jarl's blood. Our Messiah, Ransei's final hope. Thorkrom Crossburner Hitoawa.'
The old woman smiled, laying the finished hat down on her table. He had found exactly what he was looking for.