Chapter XXXI
That night, the pirates celebrated Nova and Barry's win by drinking in the tavern. None of the other gladiators had come, surprising no one – the other gladiators on Nova's ship were still forced to stay back another week to attempt for their legionary crystal again, since Legionary Wake had heard about them trying to kill their captain, and the gladiators on the orange ship also were left with no crystal for losing the race.
Barry was already there, glugging away at the ale. But Nova had been out during the evening, training at the Oreburgh Mines, remembering the way Leila had swung from Gyarados to Gyarados with deftness and speed, with strength and courage.
If it hadn't been for that Roselia, Nova would have been another lump of bones inside a Gyarados's guts. And as wicked as Barry said that was, the lass couldn't quite stomach it for herself.
With her grip tight on the rope that Bailey the Staravia was flying around, Nova let herself breathe in the cold wind, the salty breeze, the thick scent of ale.
For once, she was at peace. She could think. She had four legionary crystals studded into her belt, and her friend was determined to get the other four. But she had a mother to look after.
And yet, she had so many – too many – unfinished matters. There was Bebe's killer, who was trying to kill her, there was Lucas, there was Duke Rowan, there was her best friend to consider now that she had made more gladiators angry, and there were her Pokémon. The ones she was training every night, and the ones she was sparring with every morning.
Her head hurt just thinking about all of it.
Bailey cawed above her, stopping in his tracks, leaving them hovering in the air.
"What's wrong, Bailey?"
The Staravia cawed. Nova glanced up, then followed his gaze.
There – through the thick brambles and honey trees, through the dark veil of the night – was a Galactic Healer. They were darting through the dark, threading through tree after tree, a net in their hands.
Nova narrowed her eyes at the net. "It's too small to fit a person."
"…perhaps a baby?..."
"Why would the Galactic Healers want ta' steal a baby?"
"…who wouldn't want a baby? the screaming. the crying. the ankle biting- oh, wait, i realise i am describing you…"
Nova snorted. "Thanks, Darkrai. Bailey, I say we just leave the Galactic Healer. It's none of our business, anyways."
The moment she said it, she knew she was lying to herself. Even Bailey remained frozen, staring at the healer, frowning.
Then, against his gladiator's will, the Staravia started flying towards the Galactic Healer.
"Bailey, do not."
The Staravia hesitated. Sighed. Turned back towards Pastoria, his eyes big and round and begging and-
"Oh, bloody hell, fine. Let's go start some shit."
Bailey turned back towards the healer, chirping. Nova rolled her eyes.
"You are the biggest bloody sop in the world, you know that?"
The Staravia only grinned.
Once they were closer, Nova could clearly see the healer – the red tufts of hair, the slight limp, the flutter of the black cloak.
And she felt her heart clench.
Mars.
"Hey!" Nova called out. "Stop!"
The healer turned around, her eyes sharp beneath the mask, glaring as she spotted the gladiator and swore. And, though she kept running, her limp kept her staggering, her breaths were becoming shallower, and the weight of the Pokémon in the net was dragging her pace slower and slower until-
Mars hissed as the Staravia dropped his gladiator onto the healer, leaving the two girls stumbling in the grass, scratching at each other. Nova threw a kick at the girl's face, reaching for the net, only to have Mars yank her back by her hair.
It was then that the gladiator properly saw what was in the net.
The Abra. The Abra that had been following her across all of Sinnoh, the one that belonged to Meryl, the one that looked so damned weak and limp with the net around him and the red chains around his wrist.
Stranger yet, as the Abra glanced down at the red chains and winced, Nova felt that pain in her own wrists. Sharp and yet, distant. Clinging around her very bones. Making her wrists feel as if they were as empty as air.
Nova heard Mars call out her Purugly, saw the normal-type pounce onto her, winced as she imagined the pain she would feel as those sharp claws dug into her eyes-
The Purugly never hit her face. For, in that second, Bailey had swooped down. Raising the Purugly in the air. His talons strained as he tried desperately to lift the Pokémon – the Pokémon that was far too heavy for him – higher and higher in the air.
"Purugly, put the stupid thing to sleep."
And, as Mars tightened her grip around Nova's hair, the gladiator could only watch as the Purugly glanced up at her Staravia with its glaring eyes. Bailey blinked once, twice, and then-
"No," Nova croaked out.
Then, the Staravia fell asleep in mid-air, bringing himself and Purugly to the ground with a crack that made Nova wince.
She felt Darkrai leave her shadow – felt the pain and worry and fear rattle her heart as she watched the Purugly land on its feet, and saw it scratch at her sleeping Staravia.
Something awoke inside her – angry and fierce, hysterical and cold – and Nova ripped her sword from her belt and slammed it into whatever part of Mars she could see.
It dug straight into the healer's leg. And yet, Mars didn't flinch. Didn't blink back in pain.
And when Nova drew back the sword, there was no blood. Even though she was certain it had gone so deeply in.
Feeling lost and lonely without a familiar whisper in her shadows and a familiar Staravia beside her, Nova took a long glance at her sword.
And she saw.
She saw a girl with red hair, dressed in gladiator armour. Rushing into the Veilstone Colosseum, with seven legionary crystals shining within her belt. The crowd was roaring – chanting a name over and over, their screams like a pulse in her ears.
Mars! Mars! Mars! Mars!
She saw the red-haired gladiator slice others with her sword, killing like some feral beast, her Purugly by her side. Except, as she brought another man to the ground and stepped over him, she froze. Collapsed. Screamed.
For the man that she had brought to the ground had used his dying breath to swing his sword at her, hacking her below the knee and sending blood spurting onto his face as the girl's limb lower leg was cleanly sliced off.
Nova saw and saw and saw.
She saw Mars near Floaroma, her own body crouched as she held onto Bebe and stared at the body of Bebe's father.
"We should kill them," one of the healers had said to Mars. "They may be threats."
Mars had shrugged, turning to stare at November for a long time. "I know her. And she's harmless. She… She doesn't deserve it."
And finally, Nova saw herself in the Twinleaf Wastes, digging through scraps of garbage, searching for supper. Mars was there – her leg but a mere stump – watching her from the side, hovering beside Nova's own mother.
"You're new, aren't you?" Vernia had asked her. "I saw knights bring you in this morning."
Mars had nodded, her weight against a wooden cane, staring down at the woman who was sitting on the sand.
"If you need anything, you can ask my daughter for help," the woman had rattled on, her smile soft as she watched the black-haired girl rummage through more garbage. "She can teach you how to search for supper, and if your leg proves to be difficult, she would be more than happy to help you."
"What's wrong with her?"
The question had clearly caught Vernia by surprise. "What do you mean?"
"I am missing half a leg. You can't even stand. What's wrong with your daughter?"
The vision ended there. And Nova was left staring at her sword, staring at the healer beside her, staring at her own shaking hands.
"You're just like me," she whispered.
Mars released her hair and tried to scramble onto her feet – stumbling, limping. "I don't know what you mean."
"You were in Twinleaf. You met my mother."
"I was in Twinleaf for a day," Mars snapped.
But Nova was already reaching out, tearing at the healer's cloak with her sword, slicing through the tunic.
And she saw that one of Mars's legs was not a leg at all. It was wood – wood twisting out from beneath the knee and stretching out like a stump.
Before she could ask, she felt that same clamminess in her hands as she saw.
"You don't want to be here," a low voice had said.
Mars had only shaken her head, lying in the sand, crying as she touched the tattoo of her sponsor on her back. "I don't belong here."
"Then let me escort you to Veilstone. I have healers working under me."
"Can your healers grow my fucking leg back?"
The man had laughed. "No. But I know a Song Sister that can."
There had been silence as Mars stared up at his face for the first time. Her eyes brimming with hope.
"Who are you?"
"Cyrus. I watched your battle in Veilstone. You would have won if your leg hadn't been cut off."
"Can't do much about it now, can we? Can't turn back time."
His eyes had twinkled, then. "Are you sure about that?"
The only thing that broke Nova out of the vision was the sound of Mars's Purugly, snarling as its claws dug into Bailey's wing.
"You're just like me," the gladiator said again, blinking away the humming in her mind, shaking her head. "Tell your Purugly to leave my Staravia alone, and release the Abra. I don't want to fight you. You don't deserve it."
Mars flinched back, as if the words had cut deeper than any sword.
Then, as she stumbled back, Nova slashed her sword into the Abra's net.
"No!" Mars cried out. She rushed forwards, her fingers already hooking around the net, but it was too late. Between a blink at the next, the gladiator had cut through the red chains bounding Abra – letting the psychic-type teleport away instantly.
With a growl, Mars grabbed Nova by the collar and slammed the gladiator's head to the ground.
"I am nothing like you," she hissed. "Don't give me that Twinleaf bullshit now. You were there because you wanted to look after your mother. I was there because I had nowhere else to go."
Nova's head spun from both the visions and the pain that lanced through her skull. And yet, she forced herself to smile weakly, shaking her head as she said, "But we're both here now…"
"Cyrus gave me somewhere to go."
"Cyrus murdered his daughter and wife."
"He's trying to make up for it. So I would stay out of our way, you hear?"
Nova only spat in her face.
And so, Mars turned to her Purugly and scowled. "Kill it. Kill the Staravia."
That's when November learnt that – Twinleaf or not, gladiator or not, missing leg or not – Mars was still a bitch.
"…bailey. wake up…"
The Staravia could hear the voice in his head, even as he slept. Or maybe it was because he slept. It was a familiar voice – so familiar that it hurt. Or maybe that was another sort of pain. There was pain all around him as he slept, bleeding his dreams in red, his wing aching as he broke in and out of sleep and pain and hell.
"…bailey. wake up…"
He didn't want to wake up. It hurt too much to pry his eye open. And he was so tired. Something in that Purugly's gaze had made him so sleepy… so exhausted… so…
"…nova needs you…"
Another jab of pain. Down his left wing. The left wing that had been broken before he had met…
"…she needs you to survive…"
Nova. It had been Nova that had saved him. That had taken him, even though his wing had been broken. Where was she now? Where was he now? Why was he sleepy? Why did it hurt so much?
"…she needs you to live…"
The voice was clearer. Sharper. Deadlier.
And finally, he recognised it.
It was the Darkrai. The one that had followed his gladiator around since Solaceon. The one that sometimes gave him nightmares at night sometimes, nightmares of Nova dying, of his fellow Pokémon dying. Making him want to be stronger. Aim straighter. Fight harder.
Why wasn't he giving him a nightmare now? Why?
"…fine. if you insist…"
And, as another slice of pain ripped through his wing, the Bailey felt the nightmare creep over the bloody red screen that was his eyelids. He saw his gladiator again, smiling until she wasn't, laughing until she was bleeding in a puddle, having a sword buried right between her eyes over and over again while he just stared and watched.
While he just looked on, like a coward.
Be stronger.
Aim straight.
Fight harder.
"…and wake the fuck up…"
Finally, Bailey forced his eyelids open – even as sleep urged them back down.
And when he awoke, he felt stronger. He felt bigger. He felt little pain, even though blood was streaming down his wing.
A wing that was too big to belong to a Staravia, but just right for a Staraptor.
Bailey the Staraptor took one glance at the Purugly, who was staring down at him – eyes wide, blood staining its claws.
Then, with a harsh caw, he tore his claws into the Purugly's back and heaved it into the air. Even with his bleeding wing and pained rasps, even with his squirming lungs and aching heart, he felt no fear with the Darkrai in his shadow.
They flew higher and higher with the Purugly. Over branches. Over the rustling leaves of trees. Touching the soft breaths of the clouds.
Holding on tightly with his claws. Aiming it perfectly over his target. Knowing that he would not miss, as he had always done before.
Be stronger.
Aim straight.
Fight harder.
And the Staraptor let the Purugly fall right onto Mars.
Then, as the healer cried out, Bailey the Staraptor landed on his gladiator's head and cawed proudly. He only felt slightly embarrassed about the whole spectacle once the Darkrai slipped out of his shadow and back into Nova's.
Meanwhile, Nova kicked the Purugly off Mars, watching as both the healer and her Pokémon took shallow breaths. Then, she planted her boot softly over the healer's chest.
"We are almost the same," Nova said. "You've been a gladiator, and I am a gladiator. You've been to Twinleaf, and I am from Twinleaf. We're both murderers, and we're both pieces of shit."
Mars grunted in protest, but Nova pushed her down with a gentle kick.
"But you know what makes us different, Mars?"
The Staraptor's blood fell onto Nova's face as she leaned down real close and whispered into Mars's ear.
"I learnt how to hunt for my supper. And you didn't."
And she left the healer and her Purugly there in the night, her heart and mind already set on a final vision that had seized her mind upon seeing her Staravia evolve.
"Where are you going, Mars?"
"Twinleaf."
"Why?"
A beat. A short laugh.
"I'm going to learn how to hunt for my supper."
After bandaging Staraptor's wing – for what felt like the millionth time for the poor gladiator – Nova stormed straight into the tavern, smiling weakly as pirates hooted and cheered and asked her about the number of Gyarados she had slaughtered.
She only had time to mutter a quick twenty-bloody-eight before rushing down towards the Lord Backlot.
To her absolute surprise, he was playing cards with a few other pirates. And though he was scowling and accusing them all of cheating, Nova still saw him sigh and place a few pieces of gold onto the table in defeat.
"Fancy that," she said to him, grinning wickedly. "The respectful Lord Backlot likes himself a bit of betting?"
He scowled. "I…" He froze as he caught sight of the Staraptor on Nova's head, the blood soaking the bandages on his wing, and the drops of scarlet that had dried over the gladiator's brow. "November, what happened to you? We cleaned you up after the race."
"I need to talk to you. In your manor."
He nodded, but his voice faltered as his gaze wandered over to behind Nova's shoulder, where Lady Spiral sat with Barry.
A gladiator – one of the men that had survived Nova's ship by flying to shores on his Pelipper – was edging closer to Lady Spiral, his hand snaking up her arm, landing far too close to her chest.
"Leave me alone," Lady Spiral said with a hiss.
The gladiator grinned. "Naw, Lady Spiral, you know you want it."
"I want you to kindly piss off."
"Oh, don't be like that-"
Across the tavern, Nova heard Legionary Wake yell something to the gladiator about keeping his hands to himself and his balls tied with a piece of string. Then, all the pirates were upon the gladiator, their bodies lined up like a human shield as they shoved the man away from their captain's wife, their hands curled into fists.
Nova smiled as the gladiator was sent running out of the tavern in nothing but his underthings, his britches and blouse ripped from his body.
Even Lord Backlot was nodding at the pirates. Maybe not fondness in his eyes as his gaze found Wake, but certainly not disgust either.
"See?" Nova said to him. "They're not so bad for pirates, are they?"
Lord Backlot only rolled his eyes.
Legionary Wake and Barry were drunk by the time they had shut the tavern down and dragged them to the Backlot Manor. At first, Nova just watched them make utter fools of them, with Wake insisting they duel on the table and Barry agreeing in a heartbeat.
So, as the two fought on the table – with the knives used for spreading butter – Nova faced Lord Backlot and Lady Spiral, who she could barely see past Barry and Wake's stumbling legs.
"I've been having visions."
Lord Backlot cocked his head to the side. "Visions?"
"Of the past. And I think the future, too."
"And she has a Darkrai riding in her shadow," Barry added, crying out as the flat of Wake's knife landed on his eye. "That bloody hurt!"
Wake frowned. "I thought ye were bloody blind?"
"Just because you don't have bollocks, doesn't mean it won't hurt when I kick you there, aye?"
"Oh, aye- oi! What did ye say about my bollocks, lad?"
"What bollocks?"
"You bloody-"
Nova's shadow leaked out, then, forming the shape of Darkrai.
"…she is having visions, aye. she has a darkrai in her shadow, aye. and when she saw an abra today that was tied by the wrists, she felt that pain in her own wrists. aye?..."
Legionary Wake stopped sparring Barry at the sight of the Darkrai. Barry heard the legionary's knife drop and cheered. "What's my name? Barry! Barry the Beast! Barry the-"
He was silenced as he stepped of the table and fell onto the rug.
Neither the legionary, Lord Backlot, nor Lady Spiral said a word. They just stared at the Darkrai, who had settled himself in the seat beside Nova. Their jaws dropped. Their hands on their hearts.
Finally, Legionary Wake cleared his throat and turned to Nova.
"Lass, what are you?"
Lord Backlot nodded. "Aye, what are you?"
"Come up with your own questions, old man."
"Don't call me old man, you little-"
"Shut up, both of you!" Lady Spiral snapped, leaping to her feet. "Let me… I'm going to get the scrolls."
She was only gone for minutes, though she did miss the glorious minute where Legionary Wake tried to touch Darkrai and yelped as his hands went straight through the shadows, flinging himself into his father-in-law's arms.
When she did return, Lady Spiral spread out a long piece of paper – crumbling, brown paper – across the table. And, as Nova's eyes stumbled over the letters – letters that she didn't even recall seeing with Bebe – she flushed.
"I can't read," she admitted.
Lady Spiral didn't even shoot her a glance of pity. "Even if you could read, you wouldn't understand it. It's in ancient writing. I, myself, can only understand a little bit, even though I've studied it all my life."
Nova turned to her companion beside her. "Darkrai, can you help?"
"…i can…"
There was silence as Lady Spiral pushed the scrolls towards the Darkrai, who only pushed it back with a gust of black wind.
"…you asked if i can, not if i will…"
"Arsehole."
From beneath the table – though, Nova had no idea how he had found himself there – Barry called out, "So, we have Galactic Healers haulin' their rumps after Meryl and her Abra, aye? And we also have some bastard trying to kill you, Nova?"
"Aye," Nova answered. "Except, I think… I think the person who wants to kill me has nothing to do with the Galactic Healers. I think it might be anyone that I've pissed off. Volkner. Maybe Fantina. Or me father, whoever the hell he is. Someone who just doesn't want me to become… big."
"Aye. And the Galactic Healers and their bloody kiss-arse love for Meryl and her Abra?"
Nova frowned at that, glancing back to Lady Spiral.
"When I was coming to Hearthome, I met their leader," the gladiator explained. "Cyrus. And he was singing a song. I'm not sure if it means anything but…"
Lady Spiral's eyes shone. "Could you sing it for us? As best as you remember it?"
Strangely enough, Nova couldn't forget it. It had been trapped in her ears for the past few weeks, hissing at her before she slept and when she awoke. And so, with ease, Nova opened her mouth and sang.
A will of steel, a heart of gold
A mind both young and old
A ring of death – no pulse, no breath
Of champions both brave and bold
Three souls living, five souls dead
And one ready to create the end
Oh, adamant, oh, lustrous, come to Spear Pillar
For the final roar of time; the final special rend…
And, as the words slipped from her mouth, a single section of the scrolls began to glow – blue and pink lights streaming from the pages, shining so bright that even Darkrai seemed stunned.
Then, when it was all over, Lady Spiral cleared her throat.
"It's a spell," she explained. "To raise Dialga and Palkia. Rulers of time and space. And this spell… it also allows you to control them."
Lord Backlot's eyes turned wide. "Control Dialga and Palkia?"
"Aye. The song is actually a set of instructions." Lady Spiral gestured over at the words, frowning. "You need the three special people – the will of steel, heart of gold, mind both young and old. It says here that Azelf, Mespirit and Uxie – the three lake spirits – can tell you who they are."
"…only if you ask politely…"
Barry's words were muffled beneath the table as he said, "Do you think it's the twins? Meryl, Ulysses, and the Abra?"
"Aye, but who is the third?" Lady Spiral pointed out. "It says they are people. When one dies, a new is born – but they will always be human. It says nothing about an Abra."
"Maybe the twins are the lake spirits!"
Legionary Wake only smiled pitifully. "No, Barry. The lake spirits ain't humans. They look like… Have you ever seen a Tentacool?"
"No."
"What about a Tentacruel?"
"I beg yer pardon, Legionary Wake, but I haven't even seen me own bloody feet."
Lord Spiral cut them off with a clap of her hands. "Anyways, it also says that the three special people create the Adamant Orb, which allows you to summon and control Dialga only."
"And Palkia?" Lord Backlot asked.
"That's what the ring of death is for – made by champions both brave and bold. According to these scrolls, a champion means anyone who has been blessed by the queen or king of Sinnoh."
Legionary Wake's face paled. "The legionaries…"
"Aye," Lady Spiral said. "The Galactic Healers need five of you. And he needs you to be dead."
"Well, fuck me gently."
"The five dead bodies should give you the Lustrous Orb, which allows you to summon and control Palkia. Except… it says that the main reason anyone would try this spell is if they were to do something foolish. Like… turning back time?"
"Well, fuck me very hard."
Lord Backlot ignored the legionary, asking, "But why summon Dialga? Why turn back time?"
They all turned to Nova, who hadn't spoken in a long, long time. She was just staring down at the scrolls, her stomach roiling.
Because she knew exactly why Cyrus would want to turn back time.
"He wants to go back and save his daughter and wife," she whispered – so quietly that the others had to lean in to hear her. "He wants to fix his mistake."
Lord Backlot exchanged a glance with his daughter. Even Legionary Wake furrowed his brow.
But Nova felt the gears in her head turning.
If Cyrus were to succeed, he would have to kill five of the legionaries. Volkner and Fantina, Nova didn't give a damn about. But Roark? Wake? Sweet, little Maylene?
And if he did succeed, turning back time, saving his daughter and wife…
Would Lucas ever have become a knight, if his sister and mother were alive?
Would she and Barry ever have met him? Become gladiators? Become something other than dirt on rich folks' boots?
"If we turn back time, all of this will be destroyed," Lady Spiral said softly. "Some things may stay the same, but some things…"
Her eyes landed on the Darkrai, who had melted back into Nova's shadow.
"I have a suggestion," Lord Backlot finally said, reaching out to ruffle his daughter's hair. "As clever as Spiral is, she doesn't know as much as the elders of Celestic. If you go there, they may give you more advice. For now, I say we all have some rest. It's been a long day."
Barry and Nova thanked the three before stalking back to their rooms, where their Pokémon were sleeping soundly. And, as soon as Nova confirmed that they were out of earshot, they squeezed each other's hands, their voices low as they said the exact same words to one another.
"We need to stop Cyrus."
I've taken a few creative liberties, as always. You know that weird moment where you chase the Team Galactic member from Pastoria to Lake Valor and... literally nothing happens? Yeah, I decided to use Mars instead. Mars, who actually has a past!
Once again, thank you to everyone dropping in those follows/favourites/reviews! I really appreciate the support. I've also got a new poll up on my profile, so if you get the chance, feel free to pop in and give it a vote!
That's all for today, folks! Have a great weekend!
