When Dagda and Ozzy departed from his house, Pops noticed that they were both in high spirits. He looked at his wrist, as if pretending to check a watch. "Took you long enough." he said, and Dagda smiled, chuckling to himself. "I just had a lot to talk about. We can go back. I need to get myself together because I wanna get going again tomorrow." he said, and Ozzy sighed. "Took you long enough."
When they returned to the village, Dagda noticed that Belphegor was about, seeming refreshed and well cared for. He was bandaged up, as Dagda could see on his wrists and forearms. He did seem slightly restless, as he didn't have his pillow with him.
The child noticed Dagda, smiling as he approached and looked up at him. "Thank you for saving me, Dagda. I'm really grateful." he said, and Dagda smiled. Ozzy tilted his head as he watched Dagda kneel down to look the child in the eyes. "I'm here for all of you, you know. Besides, I need someone to run my fanclub." he said, ruffling his hair. Ozzy found this rather amusing.
He remembered when he first met Dagda, and when he'd first heard more about him from his brothers. The timid, insecure child he initially met and first heard of was not the same as the man before him, who was proud of who he was, and made a point to be kind and nurture others.
"You don't have your pillow, do you? Is it a physical part of you?" he asked, and Belphegor nodded. "I've always had it, ever since I was a baby. Komalas sleep a lot. We need pillows." he said, and Dagda hummed. He wondered if he could perform the task his mind conjured up, and he sighed.
He took a cross legged sitting position, Belphegor looking at him with a puzzled gaze as he opened his hands, the hair on his arms growing longer and longer as Dagda began to work mentally, willing the hair to thread together and take a rectangular shape. He glanced to Belphegor, wondering exactly what his preference in pillow was.
Dagda inhaled, his biggest ally being his creativity. He wiggled his fingers while the hair threaded together, his mind imagining using Cotton Guard via Metronome, the hair puffing up as if made of a softer, lighter material. Dagda smiled, glancing to Ozzy, who nodded as he swung his claws and cut the hair from Dagda's arms, watching it retract with a thought.
Dagda rose up to his feet, glad he could stay in one spot while he worked, tossing the rectangular mass of fluffy hair and smiling. He thought he did a pretty good job, and he handed it to Belphegor, who grabbed it like it was the Holy Grail. "I know it's pretty rough, but I think it'll work until you can get a proper replacement." he said, and he smiled.
Belphegor clutched the pillow to him, tears of joy forming in his eyes. What had he done to deserve this? His idol had not only appeared before him and spent time with him, but he saved his life and then made him a new pillow from his own body. With the pillow against his chest, he hugged Dagda tightly, like a child overjoyed at a Christmas present.
Ozzy found this rather amusing. With his memories restored, he realized how similar this was to him. He remembered being a young Rockruff, being coddled and nurtured by Ulquiorra, the White Demon's aura visible on his son. If Dagda was anything like his father, this wouldn't be the first time he forged this almost paternal relationship with a younger Halfling. He remembered Ulquiorra being almost criminally kind, just like Dagda.
As the day pressed on, Dagda prepared himself to continue moving on. His plan was to head back to Stow on Side and watch Allister's first match, where he said that he'd be battling with his mask off, something that Dagda wanted to see.
After that, he'd move on to Circhester, where the next gym leader was waiting for him. He had yet to decide on who he was going to use for the battle, but one thing was sure. Gorias McPlug, the Electivire that he'd befriended, had demanded to face the leader's ace. He wanted to fight a Gigantimax Pokemon himself, to prove that he, an Alolan born, Sinnoh native Pokemon, was superior.
With the sun setting in the distance, Dagda sat at the cafe, which now had outside seating, along with a proper pastry chef, a Slurpuff Halfling that worked for Mr. Felix. Dagda sat with Danzig, finding it rather relaxing to spend time with his original partner. "We've come a long way so far, huh?" he asked, and Danzig nodded.
"Yeah, but I'm still a little worried. What if we can't change things after beating Leon? What if the region doesn't want all of this to be normal?" he asked, and Dagda hummed. "Then I have no choice. I'll have to do it by force." he said, and Danzig blinked.
This was a surprise to hear. His partner used to be timid, and he remembered a time not that long ago where he was too flustered to even command a Pokemon properly. Here he was, now fully determined to change an entire region. It was quite the change, and he found himself respecting his brother even more. "I don't want to hurt innocent people." he said, and Dagda smiled.
"We won't hurt anybody, Danzig. I'm sure there's somebody I can learn from so that I can just be really persuasive. Mr. Felix seems like a good start. I mean, look at his mates. They couldn't seem more different." he said, and Danzig blinked, thinking to the contrasting pair.
Dagda was right. If two people like Mr. Felix's mates, a woman with dark brown skin and purple hair, and her counterpart, a male with blond hair and blue eyes, could get along and agree to have the same mate, Dagda could at the least convince people to question their beliefs. Right?
"Danzig, Atilla wanted to see you. Something about another Obstagoon secret technique or something." they heard, turning to see Otis approaching. Despite his evolution increasing his size massively, he seemed a little lean for a Snorlax, having a more physically honed body while retaining the standard round shape.
"Is it any harder to move around in that body, Otis?" he asked, and the bear shrugged. "Not really. I gotta do more to land a punch or kick, but I can still run and jump and stuff just fine." he said, and Dagda laughed, imagining Otis running and jumping around with his current form.
The bear must have taken offense to that, because he sighed and rolled his closed eyes before walking off with a wave. Dagda took in a deep breath through his nose. His sense of smell was much better, and he could almost tell exactly what was happening because of the scents he picked up.
His eyesight was also improved. While he still only had one eye, the things he could see were much more clear, and he began to notice things he couldn't before, like a different texture on Allister's head, the hair around his ears looking slightly different. Or that Mr. Felix had feline pads on the top joint of his fingers.
"This is what I meant before." he heard, seeing the man with the odd skin and formal attire from before. He took a seat across from Dagda, his posture almost inhumanely perfect. Dagda nodded to him. The man looked at him, running a finger along his jawline.
"I never introduced myself, did I?" he asked, and Dagda shook his head. The man chuckled, Dagda seeing a mouth full of blinding white teeth, all perfectly sharpened to the same exact point, as if on purpose. "My apologies. I lose myself in the beauty of this place sometimes." he said, glancing to the forest briefly.
"I am known as Heinreich Asahara, The Dragon Lord of Sinnoh. I am just a humble purveyor of beauty." he said, and Dagda winked, finding it rather odd that someone dressed and poised so grandly would call themselves 'humble'. Although, he noted something else. He did infact say 'Dragon Lord', meaning that amongst Halflings, there was some form of hierarchy.
He questioned whether or not to ask this man about it, but he assumed he wouldn't get much out of him. "You mentioned last time we spoke that I wouldn't understand you. Well… I think I do now." he said, and the man smiled, his face contorting in such a pristine fashion that Dagda wondered exactly how the man came to look the way he did. Every movement he made was done with a grandiose flair, and he wondered how many years the man practiced these movements.
"I'm glad to hear it. Although, I wonder if your appreciation for beauty is akin to mine." he mused, and Dagda wondered what he meant. He wanted to learn more about this Halfling. Perhaps he could take inspiration from him for a future character. After all, he still had three gym battles and the entire Champion Cup to go, he needed some kind of inspiration.
"I would assume they're at least somewhat similar." Dagda said, trying to goad more details out of the Dragon Lord. The man hummed, that soul piercing gaze still locked on Dagda. "I wish to learn more about your species. You see, Grimmsnarl are very interesting to me. Their hair, their colors, their strength. It is all very alluring." he mused, and Dagda nodded.
"I'm not sure what I can really tell you. I just found out a couple days ago." he said, and Heinreich chuckled. "I speak not of you specifically, although I will soon wonder about Halflings as well. You see, the Grimmsnarl reproduction method, the magickal one that can be done even with another male, is fascinating. Imagine if you could just create life at will." he said, the look in his eyes unnerving Dagda.
"I wonder about the specifics. What does the child inherit from each parent? Does the child have no maternal DNA? Would that make medical examination more difficult if so? What does the process even look like? Oh… so many questions." he said, and Dagda nodded, feeling a chill down his spine. "I'll let you know if I discover the answer to any of them." he said, and Heinreich began to laugh, even his laugh refined to an inhuman degree.
"You don't have to do anything for little old me. Let your life transpire naturally. Although, if you do create life with your species' magick, I would very much like to be told. I imagine that you especially could create some truly beautiful beings." he mused, rising from his seat, as if Dagda wasn't there at all.
"Ahh… I can see it now. The sight of you standing atop the region, looking like a perfect combination of your mentors. Three children, two mates, one male and female, and six black wings of hair, your Pokemon like generals, the gods splitting the skies to shine their blessing on you, a crowd of Halflings and Pokemon chanting your name in reverence. Truly… beautiful." he said, walking away with a euphoric expression.
Dagda found that to be, without a doubt, the weirdest moment of his life. Some odd Dragon Halfling approaching him, speaking of beauty and science, and then painting an incredibly grandiose picture of the end of his journey. It was rather odd to say the least.
The thing Dagda found to be the most odd was the part about children. Dagda was only eighteen, and didn't really build many relationships. Exactly what about him said to the Dragon Lord that he'd have three children? And two mates? Six wings? The blessing of the gods? People chanting his name? None of it sounded right.
"I'm surprised you're still here." Draug said, Heinreich looking to one of his favorite people. He knew a lot about Draug, and mentored him in some of his studies over the years. "I can't help myself. The beauty of this region is intoxicating. I can't wait to return and see it's true form. I've grown bored of seeing every region be the kingdom of the same family." he said, and Draug rolled his eyes.
"So this place is exciting because you view it as Dagda's kingdom?" he asked, and Heinreich nodded. "Precisely. It's something I want to see. The Devils in this kingdom will be struck down by a beautiful, black Angel. I look forward to it." he said, and Draug rolled his eyes again.
"You always talk about everything so grandly. Doesn't it bore you?" he asked, and Heinreich looked to him, almost surprised. "Certainly not. You could do with a little more sophistication in your life, Lord Susano'o. Someone who is the child of two demigods should have an obscene amount of arrogance." he said, and Draug sighed.
"Unlike you, I don't place much stock in who I'm the child of. Dagda is the child of a demonic Pokemon, and yet you call him an angel in your grand visions. How does that make any sense?" he asked, and Heinreich chuckled.
"Can you truly call Dagda a demon? You saw what transpired between him and that Belphegor child. What happened between him and that Allister boy. Even with your brothers. Regardless of what it is, everyone is drawn to Dagda and his kindness. He is the Metatron, a supreme angelic being that embodies the voice of the Allfather. Infact, I wouldn't be surprised if the Allfather's own son is drawn to Galar, drawn to Circhester Stadium, drawn to the front row infact. Imagine if he starts watching, Lord Susano'o. Dagda's charisma is the most dangerous thing in Galar, more dangerous than any of our powers or connections."