Pieces on the Board
The voices from inside the house rang on and on incessantly, like sheets of rain falling on their ears, and all they could do was stand there and listen. Cyrus' face was taut, darkened, like some grotesque mask he was trying his best to keep firm. He wanted Cynthia to leave, she could tell that much. He wanted that more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life, but unfortunately Cynthia could not move. The bubbling, sizzling shock and anger rising like bile from her stomach kept her still, stuck in place.
"…that is NOT an excuse for that! What were you even thinking!?"
"Shut up–shut up! You don't know! You have no goddamn idea–!"
"I know that you are hitting our son! I should drag you out of here by the hair and throw you in a fucking cell!"
"When would you even have the time!? You come once a month and the only thing you do is scream and berate me! You have no idea what it's like… what he..!"
"You…!"
It was a quick, forceful sigh that came out of the man's lips. Like steam leaving a kettle. A few steps were heard as he rubbed his eyelids and breathed in deep.
"Fine. Fine! You know what, that's just fine, I'll be the bigger person here, as I always am. Here, since you clearly didn't understand it the last five times I explained it to you, let me–"
"Go fuck yourself."
That's as far as the man's patience stretched. He made a sound like a Glameow being grabbed by the tail, and his voice immediately snapped back to fury.
"I have a FUCKING company to look after! Do you have any idea how hard it's been to even turn a profit with the war going on!? For Mew's sake, the only reason my men and I haven't been drafted is because we provide an essential service to the war effort! If I weren't doing this I'd be out there fighting, so in the end it's all the s–!"
"Maybe that'd be better! Maybe if you were a real man and went to fight for our country you might get an ounce of sympathy and respect from us!" snapped the woman, almost spitting the words. "Busy with work? Give me a fucking break. Don't think I didn't hear the rumors of those 'little breaks' you take in the entertainment district with your buddies!"
"I–I…" Despite being taken aback, he recovered quickly. "W-well what do you expect!? The few times I come back home at night you're always in a bad mood, god knows why! All you have to do, all you have to do is look after Cyrus! I work all fucking day and sometimes all night too! I have needs and if you as my wife are not going to take care of them then what choice do I have b–!"
There was a sharp whistle of something flying through the air, then the sonorous crack of a fragile object smashing against a wall. The man cursed and threw himself to the side.
"Get out! GET OUT!" Words flew out of her mouth like poison, each one practically a snarl on its own. "I'm not gonna have you treat me like a piece of fucking meat on top of everything else! I should leave you and take half your money like you deserve, two-timer cunt!"
"Hngh! You'd have to get a good lawyer first! Good luck of that without my money you–!"
"FUCK! OFF!" There were sounds of pushing, followed by grunts from the man, closer and closer to the door. "Come on, leave! Leave like you always do and leave me alone with him! Should've known your genes would fuck him up f–!"
"He is just a child, he doesn't know how–"
"He's abnormal! He never leaves, never smiles, never goes out with friends! He's a quiet, sniveling pushover just like you! I c-can't stand it… Can't stand him looking at me with those eyes…" There was a moment of quiet, then another shove was heard. "Wanna stop me? Then stay! Help me raise our child! Either do that or leave!"
Silence, thick like molasses, swallowed the air for a long while, until finally the man clicked his tongue and they heard the sound of the door opening. Cyrus moved like lighting, eyes full of fear, and hid behind the trashcan on the side of the house. Cynthia did the same a second after, unconsciously.
Cyrus' father stood outside the door for a few more moments, then turned to his wife one last time.
"This is your fault."
He barely got to finish the sentence before the door was slammed on his face. He chuckled derisively, shook his head and left.
It was only a few minutes later that Cyrus stood up, said nothing, and started walking away. It took Cynthia a second to follow, still shaken, eyes wide like plates. They walked four or five streets before he said anything.
"Don't follow me."
"W-why… where are you going?"
"Nowhere," he said, voice dead. "It'd be a bad idea to come back home now. I'll walk around until she goes to sleep and I'll slip through the window."
"I… I don't…"
He stopped walking, so abruptly that Cynthia almost crashed into him. When he turned around to look at her, she was surprised by the calm, aloof look on his face.
"What's with the wide eyes?" he asked, voice loaded with poison. "Didn't expect that? Well, I warned you."
Cynthia gulped. "Why… I mean. You don't look… sad. Or angry. Almost like you're…"
Used to it. The words couldn't leave her mouth. It felt like there was a knot in her throat.
Cyrus grimaced at her. "What the hell is your problem? Have you been living under a rock your whole life?"
"No, it's just…" She looked down. No matter how she put this, she would… "I'm going to sound like an idiot. I realize how stupid it sounds now, but I thought parents were supposed to…"
Cyrus didn't need her to finish the sentence. Cynthia felt her blood boil at the pity that crossed his expression just then, but she couldn't quite complain or tell him where to stuff that pity, not after she'd made a fool of herself.
"I'm sorry," he said blankly. "Are your parents…?"
"They're alive," she hurried to say. "But my grandmother took me in. She… well, it's a pretty long story."
Cyrus looked like he was about to say something, but then those thin eyebrows of him furrowed together and he let out a grumbly 'Hmm'. He looked like a Prinplup deep in thought. It was almost enough to shake Cynthia off the anger and frustration she was feeling.
"…I've got time."
Cynthia blinked. "What?"
He saved his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to the side, pointing toward the harbor.
"There's this place I always go to when I have to outwait my mother's temper," he said. "It's under the docks, close to one of the city's generators. The humming makes your skin all tingly and it attracts a bunch of Pachirisu, but… it's nice. Peaceful, and no one ever comes to look for me there," he admitted, eyes narrowing for a moment. "Pokemon Center's probably more comfortable. But if you want to come with… well, I can't promise I'll be very talkative. But the offer's on the table."
And with that, he turned around and started walking. The previous look on his face told Cynthia he didn't expect for her to follow, nor to bother with him. Not after what she'd seen.
Unfortunately for him, Cynthia was quite fond of subverting other's expectations.
She wiped the glum look off her face, pushing all those bad feelings deep down her chest like she'd been taught, and with a forced smile she nodded and followed behind Cyrus.
Not that Reiko had ever stopped to think about it, but as it turned out, lava was a lot thicker than it was portrayed in movies and cartoons.
"Damn, another pool that's almost dried out."
She'd reverted to speaking Kantan now that she was alone with herself and her 'soul roommate'. Partly because it was easier for her, partly because it made it easier for Moltres to understand her.
Though, to be honest, Pokemon to human communication was the least of her problems right now.
Normally, the narrow, room-sized caverns she'd been traversing for the past couple days were illuminated by the pools of lava that had settled down at their lowest points, which she then had to make her way through if she wanted to keep going down. Unfortunately, this particular pool had all but dried out, only a few web-like strands of heat and light coursing through it like veins. So not only was the cavern pitch black, but her only way down was cut off.
Reiko sighed. This was a pain in the ass, but it's not like it hadn't happened a few times before. It just mean that this particular pool was cut off from the main flow of lava, so hopefully she'd emerge into a more spacious cavern she could rest in after traversing it. As for how…
"You're gonna have to lend me a hand here, partner." She raised her hand, and it immediately burst into flames. "Let's heat this back up so we can go through it."
The flame inside her burst to life, swirling and thrashing angrily. Reiko took a step back and grunted, eyes narrowing at the sudden heat enveloping her body, steam starting to rise from her skin. Great. Just what she needed, another one of Moltres' tantrums.
"I'll re-absorb the heat again when we're on the other side!" she explained. "Calm down, will you!?"
The piece of Moltres inside her was not convinced, unfortunately. This was happening more and more regularly ever since she'd embarked in her mission. No, more like ever since Percy had offered her an alternative as to how to stop Charon and Heatran. If the legendary Pokemon had been grumpy when she used most of its power for a fight that had nothing to do with Charon, then the mere idea of defeating and capturing the man without turning him to ash was driving it wild with anger. So wild that Reiko was having a tough time controlling it.
Still, she had to remember: Moltres wasn't as sentient as other legendary Pokemon were. She couldn't appeal to its logic. Which only left…
"Fine, I guess I'll just stay here and die, and neither of us will get what we want," she spat out. "How's that sound, huh?"
The heat in her chest stopped increasing. A foreign sense of uncertainty flooded her, which only made Reiko roll her eyes.
"You can feel them too, right? They're somewhere here, deep underground. But if I don't do this, we can't go any further down," she said, trying to sound patient. "Whatever method we end up choosing to deal with him… we have to get there first. Otherwise, all of this was for nothing."
It took almost an entire minute, but finally the flame inside her chest calmed down, reducing itself to its normal size. The air around her suddenly felt cold at the contrast. There was some reluctance there, but Moltres had at least understood her words.
Finally. Stupid oversized Torchic.
"Thank you for your understanding," she said, only slightly sarcastic. "Now…"
She walked over to the drying pool of lava and knelt before it, spreading her hands open as she lowered them down toward its surface. The flames licking up her fingers went from red to blue to white. The air sizzled and the surface bubbled, bursts of steam exploding outwards from her touch. The black outline of the pool was burned away to a bright, powerful red as the stone began to melt once more.
Soon, the lava flowed and bubbled as though it'd never gone cold. It was still thick, which meant it'd be just as much of a pain in the ass to get through it as every time before, but that was a minor worry.
Reiko sighed, her muscles complaining as so much of Moltres' heat left her body. Just a little more. She could feel the pool expanding outwards, flowing down toward the southern-most cavern, as well as every little bump and ridge on the rocky walls, as though the expanding heat were another one of her senses. Just a little more… it was almost to the other side. Once she traversed she–
There was a stir inside her. A hint of surprise, of confusion, and it wasn't long before she felt the same. Her brow furrowed. There was… something in there besides the walls of the cavern itself. Small, scattered all over. Boulders, maybe? They did feel as such, though their shape was too unnatural for that, smaller, longer protrusions coming out o–
Reiko's breath caught in her throat. Realization dawned on Moltres only a second after.
O-oh…
The big ones were Graveler, and she was pretty sure the small ones were Nosepass. Dozens of them, entire packs that hadn't been fast enough to escape the lava slide, and this was from just one singe dried out pool. How many of them had she passed by before, in the other rivers of lava she'd traversed? How many rock-type Pokemon had been swallowed by the eruption? Their insides melting, evaporating through their hardened cracks while their outsides hardened and fell to the bottom, never to be seen again?
And those are the ones that are still here. She shivered at the thought. For non rock-types, not even their bones would remain. How many of them…?
Her next heartbeat boomed with a heat and anger that was not all her own. Eyes shooting wide in panic, she opened her mouth but couldn't get a word out before Moltres' flame burst ablaze.
"A-AAAAAGH!"
The heat wave shook the dust off the walls and ceiling, only to incinerate them a moment after. The blinding, stark light of the flames now engulfing Reiko painted the cavern an ivory white for an instant, right before the heat burned it away to black. The air in the cavern sizzled, expanding as the walls, floor and ceiling began to smoke, the only exception being the patch right under Reiko, which had started melting.
"S-STOP! STO-PSTOPSTOP!"
Reiko had never felt pain like this. She thought she knew how hot fire could be, but nothing, not even her previous battle with the Winged Mirage had prepared her for this. It was heat beyond reason, beyond common sense. It was as though she were standing on the surface of the sun, every inch of her body engulfed in white, blinding flames, so powerful that even the innate heat resistance granted to her by Moltres was coming up short.
I-I'm g-gonna die. If I don't stop it I'm g-gonna…
But the pain, the heat, they were not what frightened her the most at that moment. It was the rage inside of her. An emotion so powerful, so alien that she had no frame of reference for it. Only a deity, only a primeval aspect of nature itself could have lived for long enough for this kind of ire to manifest. Reiko thought she had felt rage before, much more than anyone else, but that was but a pale imitation of the real thing. Like the difference between the painting of a flame and the flame itself.
As she lay there on the ground, squirming in pain, slowly dying, a part of her understood. Images flooded her mind. They were rough, more emotion than anything else, but she figured they were what passed for memories for beings such as Moltres. She saw the eruption of Cinnabar with her own eyes. Felt on a deep level, like she'd just felt now with this pool of lava, as thousands and thousands of Pokemon and people were swallowed up by the ensuing lava slide, not a single speck of them left behind. A millennia of nature, centuries of civilization… all gone in an instant.
She understood then. Moltres' rage, it wasn't just a tantrum, it wasn't just a desire for revenge. It was divine retribution. The quest both of them had set out on back then. To reach the man responsible and burn so brightly and powerfully that not even his ashes would remain in their presence.
No, that… that'd been back then. Now…
Please… p-please, Moltres, stop…
Of course, Moltres never had to worry about such a course of action. Even if its method of divine retribution meant burning itself to nothing like an exploding star, its essence would soon reassemble itself later down the line. Moltres couldn't die. It couldn't truly 'sacrifice' itself, and most importantly… it was nothing but a piece of nature's wrath made manifest. Even if Moltres could die, it would do so without regrets, as there were no humans or Pokemons shackling it down to life. There was nothing that it loved enough to prevent it from carrying out justice.
And back then, Reiko thought that was okay. She'd thought that, as long as she could make Charon pay, even if she ended up burning herself to cinders, it would be worth it. If her death meant justice would prevail, then she was willing to throw her life away.
But now…
I told you to stop.
The cavern had started to melt around her, so it wasn't easy for Reiko to rise to her feet. Still, she somehow managed, pushing herself up and standing amidst the furious flames, eyes closed, brows knit in concentration as tried her best to envelop Moltres' anger with her own, like two flames trying to quench each other out.
Slowly, with every deliberate breath, the flames enveloping her weakened. Moltres tried to resist her influence. It fanned and flared its fire with nothing but rage and desperation, but Reiko kept them surrounded, at bay, until all that fire was doing was consuming itself. Every time she breathed in deep, the heat would be absorbed inwards, from all around her body to the center of her chest, beating like a second heart. An emotion other than rage emerged from within her, from Moltres; confusion. Fear.
"I know this is your nature."
Her voice boomed with power when she spoke, the flames consuming her no longer wild and churning. They were now calm, flowing like water, like a cloak of light around her.
"It's not in you to think things through, or to listen to reason. You can't reason with a storm, with a fire," she said, calmly. "But is it really okay for a legend to hide behind an excuse like that?"
Moltres stopped fighting a little. She could tell its attention was now in her words. She closed her eyes, a sad smile forming on her lips.
" I was the same, actually. I thought that it'd be okay for me to follow my nature, as long as I got what I wanted in the end. But looking back on it, I think I was just looking for an excuse… for a place to die." Those last words came out thin with effort. "I figured that as long as I could burn that piece of shit to cinders, it didn't matter of I ended up burning alongside him. I thought that it was the right thing… that I deserved it. 'Cause I couldn't do anything the first time. 'Cause… I should've been there in Cinnabar with them when it happened. If I couldn't have saved them, at least I should have died there with them."
Slowly, with every word that she spoke, all resistance faded away, until both the heat inside her chest and the glow enveloping her were gone. She could feel a familiar emotion coming from Moltres.
"You feel the same way, right? Obviously you can't die, but all that anger… a lot of that comes from your own guilt. You were too late. You couldn't save the people of Cinnabar. Couldn't stop Charon. All of that has been eating away at you, hasn't it?"
Nothing came from Moltres. It was like the legend was doing its best not to react in any way that would prove Reiko right.
"It's okay. I get it," she said. "But… if you really do feel all that, I think it's cowardly to hide behind an excuse like 'That's just my nature' or 'I can't be controlled'. I… changed my nature. I decided that I'd not only make Charon face justice, but also come back alive to the people I love, and keep on living with these regrets." She raised a hand and pressed it tightly against her chest, feeling a second heartbeat inside. That of her partner. "If a weak human like me can do so much, then it wouldn't be a great look for one of the Winged Mirages to fall short of that, right?
"Besides, right now… I reckon the Flame of Cinnabar will be more needed than ever. It wouldn't be right for us to just burn away and abandon them."
No response came for the longest time. Both because she was waiting for a reaction and also because standing still felt really good compared to the pain her muscles were in, Reiko simply waited. In the end, she did feel something, right before Moltres' presence disappeared to the depths of her chest.
Understanding. A pang of gratitude.
Another rush of heat enveloped her, but this time it was calm, controlled. As Reiko took in a deep breath, she felt that heat warm her up from the inside, erasing her pain and giving her renewed energy.
She smiled and nodded, heading toward the pool of lava once more.
"Thanks, partner."
Maylene hadn't seen sunlight in days. Were it not for Lucario's company, she was pretty sure she would've succumbed to some kind of madness already.
Oh well. Only my legs need to keep working for me to do this job.
The echo was the worst part, honestly. Every step they took, every sound they made, every drop of water that filtered down the cracks in the walls and fell to the floor echoed clearly and loudly, making her jump every time. And it's not like she could ignore it. She was tailing Team Galactic; a healthy dose of paranoia was needed. If she weren't jumping at shadows then she wouldn't survive for much longer.
On the bright side, wild Pokemon weren't much of a problem. Since they were following the same path Team Galactic had, almost all the dangerous ones had been taken care of by them already, which ironically enough only made it easier to determine which way they'd gone. They could try erasing their footsteps all they wanted. All Lucario had to do was scan the area and choose the path that was less filled with wild Pokemon.
And so the past few days had gone by. Walking, resting, walking, occasionally fighting, walking some more, and once or twice avoiding traps and detection methods that Team Galactic had left behind. Keeping up a pace fast enough to eventually catch up to them wasn't easy, but there were no others that were more up to the task than Maylene and her Lucario. Compared to the kind of training her mother had put her through, walking twelve hours a day was nothing.
Sure, her feet felt like death at the end of each day. And sure, she was pretty sure she'd need to eat at least four Camerupt worth of food once all this was over to make up for the weight she'd lose, but still. They were keeping up pace. Every day, they got closer and closer to their prey.
"Think we should call it a day in a bit?"
Her voice came out raspy and breathless, and though all Lucario did was nod, even that gesture looked tired.
He walked to the nearest wall and pressed his paw against it, closing his eyes. A ripple of aura expanded off that spot, filling the air like a gust of wind and extending toward the dark caverns ahead. After a few seconds, Lucario opened his eyes again and gave Maylene a look she had no problem deciphering.
"Small cavern, a few minutes up ahead," she whispered. "Sounds good. Let's get moving."
The silence that followed as they made their way forward felt all the more heavier because she'd just talked, even though it'd been only a couple sentences. That was the thing about this… well, place wasn't a good way to describe it. A field was a place. A City, a glade, a garden, those were places. These endless, uniform tunnels felt more like…
She unconsciously grabbed on to her arm. Didn't even want to think it, but it was true that they reminded her of veins and arteries inside of a body. She'd seen caves inside of mountains plenty of times before, and she was pretty sure they weren't supposed to be like this. No matter how much they explored, the tunnels never got wider or narrower. At best they would occasionally open up to a small cavern, a blessed dead end, but that was only after walking past at least a dozen branching paths. It didn't feel natural.
"None of this feels natural," she whispered to herself, face scrunching up slightly. "You feel it too, right?"
Lucario said nothing, but she felt the slight change in his aura and knew that he agreed wholeheartedly. Then again, she didn't need to sense his aura to realize that. She'd never seen her partner walk with his shoulders so tense before, nor with such caution and attentiveness in his eyes. And considering the sorts of things he'd gone up against without even breaking a sweat…
Maylene shook her head. No, there was no need to think like that. These tunnels were weird, sure, but it was being trapped so far from the surface that was affecting their nerves, not the tunnels themselves. If s–
She stepped on a puddle of water without noticing and jumped at the sensation, almost hitting her head against the stone wall. Lucario turned around quickly, but his alarm quickly morphed into amusement at the sight.
"Son of a…" Maylene scrunched up her face, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Sorry, nerves. I just… need some rest, I think."
Lucario simply nodded and led her down the branching path at their left toward the cavern. And just like every time she'd accidentally spooked herself before, it felt as though the air in the tunnels got… thinner. The shadows getting slightly closer. As though these earthen veins were constantly trying to apply some sort of pressure on them. Like the most passive-aggressive version of an immune system ever.
Maylene didn't like the idea one bit, but at least she wouldn't have to think about it for much longer.
"You know, there's been some expeditions to these tunnels before," she said. Normally, she had no problem enjoying silence alongside Lucario, but this one felt too heavy for her tastes. "I heard that twenty years ago, a group of seven hikers entered Mt. Coronet from different spots. Their mission was to advance as much as they could through the tunnels in a week, and see if they could either find each other or at least a path to the summit in that time."
They kept walking. The sound of her voice made their steps echo more quietly. The tenseness in the air felt thinner.
"They ended up failing on both counts, though. Can you imagine that?" she asked, shaking her head. "A whole week of exploring the tunnels from seven different entrances, and at no point did their paths ever cross. That's why they call the insides of Mt. Coronet a 'painted hole' in maps. It would take too much money and effort to fully map them out, more than anyone is willing to pay."
This was one of the things she enjoyed about having Lucario as her partner. She could just talk and ramble all the live-long day whenever she fancied it and he didn't mind one bit. He couldn't reply, but he always listened earnestly. Candice was a wonderful girlfriend, of course, but no one had built up such a resistance to her ramblings like Lucario had.
"Actually… you know what these remind me off? The Underground." She let out a 'Huh' at herself. How was this the first time she'd thought of it? "Remember when we went down there to train when we were… shit, how old was I? Seven? Nine? Well, whatever, didn't the tunnels down there look a lot like this?"
Lucario frowned and, after a moment of consideration, gave a short nod.
"They say the tunnels from the Underground run under all of Sinnoh," muttered Maylene. "Maybe…"
She was silent for a moment, then just laughed and shook her head.
"No, there's no way. Mt. Coronet would've had to be flat for that to be the case, and I know for sure the Underground isn't that old. It's probably something el–Hm?"
Lucario cut her off by pointing at the end of the tunnel, which opened up to what looked like a small, spacious dark cavern. She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
"Thank Mew," she whispered. "No kidding, I was only talking to keep myself awake. Let's get some rest a–"
She realized something was wrong as soon as she set foot inside the cavern. The ground under her feet was too smooth, too uniform, nothing like the bulky harshness of stone. She looked down, and her eyes went wide.
"What?"
Ceramic floor tiles. There were only a few of them in the floor and on the walls, the rest of them having been overtaken by rock and vegetation, but they were still there, clear as day. And judging by the design and the fact that one of them shattered as soon as she moved her foot, she figured they must have been incredibly old.
"D-did people use to live in these tunnels?" she whispered, shocked. "But how…?"
Her voice trailed off, however, as she noticed what lay on the other extreme of what she thought was a cavern, but clearly used to be a house of some kind. And against the corner where two of the walls met, barely visible and mostly covered in rocks and plants, lie what was unmistakably a human skeleton.
"O-oh…" whispered Maylene, probably sounding less horrified than she should've had. "I guess… my theory was right, actually."
The both of them stared at the pile of bones for a long minute, Maylene simply gawking and Lucario alternating between her and the bones, waiting for her reaction. Finally, she shook her head and snapped out of it.
"Well…"
She sighed with exhaustion, rubbing the back of her neck.
"…I'm too tired to look for someplace else to sleep," she said. "Guess we've got a roommate tonight."
Saturn's offer of coffee was met with a couple glares of distrust. Not at the coffee itself, of course, and it wasn't entirely on purpose either. He couldn't blame Rowan's… no, Lucas' lab assistants for being weary of him, considering his past. The two of them, Luke and Rika seemed to see the boy as something of a younger brother. And who wouldn't be distrustful of their younger sibling not only cooperating but also entering a relationship with an ex-member of Team Galactic?
Still, at least they were polite enough to wipe that look off their faces quickly. They each grabbed their cup of coffee and thanked him with a curt smile, though they said nothing more.
"Do you want some, Lucas?"
"Hm? O-oh, yeah, thank you! Just put it here, I'll get to it in a second."
"Er… where, exactly? There's not much room left…"
This part of the lab in which they were working looked like the most professional disaster Saturn had ever seen, and considering the state Jupiter and Charon's labs were usually in, that was saying something. The only spot on Lucas' desk not covered by papers and sheets full of information was the one occupied by the keyboard, on which the boy tapped away at those keys as though his life depended on it, his fingers a blur. The other two's desks weren't much better. Lucas had said before that if Rowan were here to see the state of his lab his mustache would probably start fuming, but with circumstances as they were, they didn't have the time to be worrying about tidiness.
"Oh, right. Here, lemme just…"
Lucas grabbed the cup of coffee with his hands instead, since there was no more room on the computer desk. He took the moment to breathe in before taking a sip. Luke and Rka did the same a moment after. Three identical sighs of relief filled the room.
"Ah… thank you. Delicious as always," said Lucas, staring up at him with a beaming smile. "I'm sure the professor would've sang you praises for a cup of coffee like this. He loved the stuff."
Saturn returned the smile nervously, feeling a pang of guilt set in his stomach. After all, the reason the professor wasn't here…
"Then we'll just have to rescue him and have him try it out," said Luke.
"Y-yes, I guess you're right," muttered Lucas. "Though… I really don't know if I should be the one leading this project. You two have seniority and–"
Luke rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Ugh, come on Lucas, that again? It's not gonna hurt you to have a little more faith in yourself, man."
"Well…"
"Rowan might've had us under his wing for longer, but in your short time here you not only caught up to us, but blew right past us," Rika pointed out. "And you're the one most familiar with his research here. It's only right you should take the lead."
Saturn couldn't help but grin a bit, not only at the redness and look of embarrassment on Lucas' face, but also in appreciation that these two understood just how amazing his boyfriend was. Everyone should, after all.
"I-I, well…" Lucas looked down at his desk again, avoiding everyone's eyes. "G-guess I gotta give it my all, then."
"We're counting on you," said Luke.
"Though I'm not letting that be codeword for 'I'll let you do all the job while I laze around'," Rika glared at her partner. "Come on, we have to go get that oscillator for the machine. With some luck we can get the Sunyshore Institute of Technology to lend us some."
Luke rubbed the back of his neck in irritation. "Right, right. We need the 3mm one, yeah?"
"That's the one, yes!" said Lucas.
"Gotcha. We'll be back in a few hours, you two take it easy."
Saturn wasn't sure Lucas knew the meaning of 'taking it easy', as he'd seen these past few days. If he didn't remind his boyfriend to eat and go to bed every once in a while, he was pretty sure he would've been working day in and day out.
Still, it was nice to have a little bit of time to themselves amidst all the chaos and anxiousness these past few days. He figured he had until Lucas finished his coffee to enjoy it.
"You've got good friends," he said. "No wonder you ended up like this with those softies and Rowan acting as your teachers."
"Haha… You should include Rowan in the 'softies' group, trust me," said Lucas. "Really though, I'm nowhere near their level when it comes to this stuff. I just happen to know a bit more about the professor's research than them."
It wouldn't kill you to take a compliment for once, Saturn thought, though he didn't vocalize it.
"Anyway… that's it, hm?"
"I–yes, this is the finished blueprint. I wish I had more time to polish it, but…"
He didn't need to say it; time wasn't on their side. Even managing to come up with a blueprint like this in only a few days was incredibly impressive, and assuming they were able to assemble the device in the time they had left, it would soon be even more so.
The blueprint currently shown on the screen was… hard to read. Charon had taught him to read highly-technical blueprints such as this in the rare event that it might become useful in the future, but that had been a long while ago. As time had passed, Charon and Jupiter had grown more and more secretive when it came to the technology they were developing, a flag so fragrantly red that only a blind man could have missed it.
Blinded by faith. By naiveté…
"It looks kind of like a stake," he said, trying to keep his thoughts off those familiar regrets. "Or a very complicated-looking needle."
"That's the idea," sighed Lucas, looking up at his creation. "I wish I could've found a way to make it small enough for it to be a projectile, but that would've taken time we don't have."
Saturn folded his arms and nodded. "So if push comes to shove, someone or something will have to manually stab this into that thing, huh?"
"It's not perfect by any means, so let's hope Maylene succeeds and it doesn't come to that. But just in case…"
Just in case. Those words bothered Saturn more than he cared to admit. This plan, these pieces that Cynthia, that wretched woman, had put in place… 'just in case' and 'with some luck' seemed to be part of all of them. He'd tried his best not to think about it these past few days, to keep himself occupied as best he could, but every time he let his guard down, the same thought came to him.
So many things could go wrong. A single slip from any of us is all it would take to seal our demise.
He supposed that was why Lucas had come up with this. This was their particular 'just in case'. If Maylene were to fail, if she couldn't stop the creation of that clone of Mew in time…
And to think it was a plan that wouldn't have even been possible were it not for Rowan's interference.
"This was all detailed in that piece of paper he slipped into your pocket that night?"
Lucas swallowed down another sip of coffee and shook his head. "Not… really. The slip of paper just pointed me in the right direction."
"Eventually, he would've told Cyrus what he wanted to know. So he must've gave in already. He trusts you'll find a way to neutralize what Cyrus gained from that information," nodded Saturn. "With this."
As Lucas stared up at the screen, at his creation that they would soon have to start building, the anxiety and nervousness he felt inside shone through his face as though it were transparent. Yet when he spoke, his voice only shook a little.
"The energy they'll use to speed up that clone's growth… it's the same that Pokemon exude when they evolve. And it's the same energy they use to fuel their attacks. In most species, it builds up over time inside their bodies, growing and replenishing faster the more of it they spend. And when they gather too much for their bodies to cope… the bodies themselves change.
"Knowing this… told me there's a way to reverse the process. I… actually got the idea from that weird stone Cynthia spoke of," he smiled. "The idea of trapping the essence of a Pokemon attack inside of a stone…"
"You already asked her to contact the mediums in lavender, I assume?"
Lucas nodded. "They agreed to give us a few of them with the essence of the move Spite inside of them. If I can manage to extract the essence from them and put it inside this device…"
Saturn understood. If the worst case scenario came to be and this clone of Mew was born, this device would be their best bet to stop it in its tracks before it could deal any serious damage to their counter-offensive. By piercing the creature with it, they would be able to drain it of all of its energy, rendering it unable to use its psychic powers for a short time.
It wasn't a perfect plan, nor a perfect solution. Piercing such a Pokemon with something like that would be extremely difficult, and even if they succeeded, the creature would still possess an incredible amount of physical prowess and versatility.
He let out a breath, but none of the tension in his shoulders evaporated with it.
We should just hope it doesn't come to that.
He'd been telling himself those words over and over again for the past few days in a vain attempt to quell the fear and guilt inside of him. Unfortunately, whenever he thought them, another sentiment followed right after.
If it does, you know it'll be your fault.
Lucas must've noticed his distress, because he went as far as to let his cup down atop some very important-looking documents just so he could pull his arm around Saturn's waist and give him a small hug from where he was sitting. The tenseness in his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.
"I wish I could do more," he whispered, almost unconsciously. "Jupiter and Charon were the brilliant ones. I was just there to keep things moving."
"Well if it makes you feel any better, I wouldn't change you for either of them," whispered Lucas. "Especially not Jupiter. Some of the stuff you've told me about her…"
"Oh, yes, she is by far the most rotten woman I've ever had the displeasure of working with. And considering I also worked with Mars, that's saying something." Saturn chuckled drily. "And yet she is one of the most brilliant minds of our generation. Funny how genius works."
Lucas leaned back from the hug and looked pensive for a moment. "Yeah… she must have been. I mean, some of the technology Team Galactic developed… it's hard to believe they could make do with the materials they had."
At that, Saturn's brows furrowed. A curious thought came to mind, something he hadn't quite considered until now.
"We didn't get all our supplies from the black market, actually."
"Hm?"
Saturn looked up at the screen and frowned. "There was… someone else. Another 'contractor' Cyrus was working with. I… never got to talk to him in person, but he was an Unovan scientist. Colress I think his name was."
Lucas' eyes went wide like plates. He lost his voice for a moment.
"C-Colress? You mean… the one that worked with those terrorists in Unova all those years back? The one that created that machine that drew power from the shell of Kyurem to freeze an entire city?"
Saturn pursed his lips and gave a reluctant nod. "Apparently, he got the idea from the device that Kalosian king used 3000 years ago to destroy half the region."
Lucas' face paled. "And… he's still out there? Free?"
"They were never able to find him after the Unovan incident. As far as I know, he wasn't truly part of that terrorist group, he just… lent them a hand. Used them in order to develop his own technology," he said, then added with a sour tone. "Much the same way he used us, I'm sure."
"That's…" Lucas shook his head. "T-the professor actually mentioned him to me… not in a very good light, obviously. The scientific community's been trying to track him down for a while. From what he told me, he was last seen in Alola a few months back."
"He's a busy man for sure," muttered Saturn. "I'm sure at this point he's run out of fingers to put in all these different cakes."
Yet despite the fact that both of them changed the topic rather quickly, despite the rest of the day passing by without anyone else mentioning the man, Saturn couldn't help but think back to him a few times throughout the rest of the day. And every time he did, the same question popped up in his mind.
Just what is all that research of his for?
He figured not even the imminent end of the world could stop certain dark clouds from gathering in the far horizon.
In her over twenty years of serving as the Morow's housekeeper, Laritzia had never felt such happiness at answering the phone for Master Arran.
"I will be there in a few minutes. Could you set the stage for me?"
"Of course, master Percy," she said, beaming. "I am always at your service."
"Thank you so much, Laritzia. I look forward to seeing you again."
"And I you, young master."
Despite the code of the house prohibiting her from running down the hall, she couldn't help herself as she crossed the east wing of the mansion toward the main lobby, where the party was being held. Her heart thumped in her chest with anticipation. Deep down, she knew well the reason the young master had refused to come back home all this time, but as someone who'd taken care of him since he was a baby, it made her heart bloom to hear of his imminent return.
Especially considering the circumstances of said return, and the stage she was supposed to set for him.
She parted the ivory doors, finding herself once more amidst an atmosphere of light jubilee. The guests of the party were distributed all over the lobby in small groups of their own, some enjoying the house's special cuisine near the tables, others standing near the grand marble staircase with drinks in hand, and a few of them enjoying the breeze of garden that served as the round centerpiece around which the square lobby was constructed. Quite an eccentric and bold design –who the hell built a garden with an open ceiling in the middle of their lobby, after all?– yet one she'd accustomed herself to over the years.
Master Arran has always enjoyed mid-party Pokemon battles, especially if he has an audience, she thought. Ah, I'm so happy he'll get the chance again tonight!
She would never speculate so out loud, but she figured part of the reason why Master Arran was so intent on throwing these monthly 'charity' parties was so he could stay relevant and informed in privileged trainer society, so to speak. It also gave him a chance to flex his family's muscles. Master Arran had always felt somewhat self-aware over not being able to become the Champion of Kalos like his father had, so it made sense he'd throw around Writs of Challenge left and right in order to climb up the ranks. Over the past five years, he'd managed to go from a simple Baron to an esteemed Marquis, and was only a few battles away from reaching the title of Duke. If things kept going his way…
"Ah, Master Arran, there you are."
Finding him was easy, as –intentionally or not– he always seemed to gravitate toward the very center of the garden during these parties. So that wasn't a surprise. What did shock her, however, was the tall, blond man standing next to him. He had eyes like a sea in storm, like those of a Milotic, and his posture was too elegant for it to have been rehearsed. He was, of course, a man Laritzia had heard of plenty. She just couldn't believe Master Arran had finally convinced him to attend one of these parties.
"O-oh. M-master Siebold, I hadn't seen you. My apologies." She gave him a respectful bow. "It is an honor to meet you, your grace."
The man gave her a quick, curt nod. A light gesture, but not a cold one. Somehow, it made her feel truly acknowledged, which rarely happened when greeting nobility like him. Most of the others looked at her as though she were barely there.
"The honor is mine. You must be the housekeeper, yes?" His voice was smooth and deep like flowing water. It sent a shiver down her spine. "You must be incredibly talented to take such good care of an estate as beautiful as this. So much so, in fact, that I can't help wondering what you're doing working for a family like this."
"A… ahahaha!" Master Arran let out a jagged, nervous laugh which shook his mustache. "I've heard you could be quite blunt, Duke Siebold, but I wasn't prepared for that! Take it easy on this old man, will you?"
Unfortunately, Master Arran wasn't the best at reading the mood, which is why he failed to notice that Siebold's comment hadn't been a joke.
Laritzia shone him a courteous smile. "I am indebted to the Morow family, in more ways that I could count. I would never dream of leaving their service."
"Hm. I see." Siebold didn't look at her as he absentmindedly rolled the clear liquid in his glass and took a small sip. He looked… slightly less bored than before. "I suppose there must be something of worth in this family after all, if you hold it in such regard."
Somehow, it didn't sound as though Siebold were giving her a compliment or trying to flirt with her. It just sounded… honest. Like he'd taken one glance at her and had seen past her housekeeper uniform and into the person she was underneath. It was a chilling glare, but a fascinating one. She appreciated being looked at in that way.
Master Arran, on the other hand, didn't seem very happy with attention being put on his servant instead of him, especially regarding someone as important as Duke Siebold. He smiled nervously again and tried to wave the matter away with a rough chuckle.
"Well, I'm very glad you could make it regardless. I know how busy you must b–"
"I came because of a hunch," Siebold cut him off. "My intuition told me that this would be different than your usual parties. That here I would find something… interesting. So here I am… waiting."
Master Arran blinked a few times, clearly confused. "A-ah, I see…"
However, Laritzia couldn't help but wonder. His intuition? Could he have known that tonight…?
"Speaking of, I apologize for interrupting you, but there was a matter I needed to make you aware of, Master Arran," she said. "It regards the call I took just now."
"Oh, yeah?" The man seemed happy for a chance to change the subject. "What was it?"
"I have been informed that we will have an extra guest tonight," she said. "And he should be arriving any moment now."
Master Arran's mouth opened in confusion, eyes blinking rapidly. "A-an extra guest? I don't remember hearing anything of the sort. Just who–?"
Then, from above, a powerful gust of cold wind fell upon the garden, startling most of the guests and forcing their attention upwards. Master Arran and Duke Siebold looked up at the sky, the former in shock, the latter with interest.
"Ah, here he is," beamed Laritzia. She cleared her throat before speaking louder. "Ladies, gentlemen and those who are neither here tonight! I am honored to introduce tonight's special guest for our dear charity party!"
To the wonder and shock of many, a massive Fearow fell down upon the garden in a burst of wind and dust, mere feet from them. A young, sharply-dressed young man stood atop his back, looking down at his father with narrowed eyes. Master Arran's mouth fell open. Had his grip on his glass been any looser, it would have fallen from his hand.
"Everyone, please greet Master Percy, heir to the Morow household."
There were a few polite claps, but only from the few that had already recovered from their surprise. However, as Master Percy jumped down from his flying companion and addressed the guests with a firm smile and a wave of the hand, his reception became warmer, more enthusiastic. Only two people had refrained from reacting in any obvious way. Duke Siebold stared at the young master with piqued interest, although his posture didn't change one bit. Master Arran, on the other hand, looked too dumbfounded to properly react.
"I would like to extend my greetings to all who've honored us with their presence tonight," said Percy, perfectly imitating the strong yet polite tone she'd always tried to instill in him for when dealing with other nobles. "I apologize for my sudden appearance, but if I know my father as well as I do, I'm sure 'sudden excitement' is a common feature of these parties of his."
Most of the guests smiled, and a few even let out polite chuckles at the young master's comment. More and more people started making their way from the outer layer of the lobby toward the garden, intrigued by the sudden commotion. This was perfect. Master Percy smiled, knowing he could use the big crowd to his advantage, and before his father could have time to react, he took a step forward and bowed respectfully toward him. The gesture was firm and perfect, yet only a trained eye like Laritzia's could have seen just how fake it was.
"It is an honor to be in your presence again, father," he spoke through half-grit teeth. "I apologize for the inconveniences I've caused you. I hope you may forgive me, considering the reason I'm back."
Master Arran's mustache twitched a few times before he was able to reply. "Sh… Son." He caught himself at the last moment, teeth clenching despite himself. He'd almost slipped into calling Master Percy by a name that was no longer his. Laritzia felt a pang of anger at the notion, but she followed the young master's example and controlled her expression. "I'm… glad you've made it back. But what reason are you… talking about?"
Master Percy glanced to the sides ever so slightly, subtly enough that only Laritzia could pick up on it. She gave him an imperceptible nod, telling him that yes, this was enough people as witnesses. He nodded to himself and took in a deep breath in preparation.
"I… have come for a joyous occasion, father. Not just for our family, but all of the nobility as well," he said. "For despite the dark clouds currently swallowing the land of Sinnoh, I've proved… mostly victorious in my endeavors."
"W-what are you…"
Not giving his father a word in edgewise, he searched the inside of his coat and pulled out a small, rectangular case, which he opened to reveal eight insignias carved of steel and precious stones. Master Arran's breath left him. A few gasps were heard around them as the young master raised the case high into the air, showing everyone in the vicinity the eight badges of Sinnoh currently in his possession.
"I have conquered all eight strongholds of our dear rival nation, as you asked of me," he said, beaming with pride. "And from what Laritzia has told me, you tend to sprinkle these parties of yours with the occasional high-stakes trainer battle. So what do you say we make this a night to remember, father? Just you and me."
Master Arran couldn't help but take a sudden step back at the sudden intensity in his son's eyes, but the redness that covered his face soon after made it clear he regretted doing so. Steeling himself, he swallowed hard and stared down Master Percy, mustache shaking.
"That is absurd. You… you can't mean–"
"Have you forgotten the trainer's creed of our family?" Percy raised an eyebrow as sharp as a knife. "The chosen heir is allowed to battle the head of the family for their title, assuming they've conquered eight gyms and beaten, or at the very least gotten the blessing from, one member of the Elite Four."
"But you haven't," Master Arran was quick to reply, failing to keep the heat in his voice at bay. "You've only got the eight badges."
Percy folded his arms and smiled. "Unfortunately so. The Sinnohan League has been cancelled for the time being, so there's no way I could challenge one of their Elite Four." His voice grew quieter for the next sentence, so that only they could hear him. "At first I was planning to use our bountiful audience to pressure you into accepting regardless." Then, his voice went back to normal, and his eyes darted from his father to the man beside him. "But it seems Lady Luck has smiled upon me today."
Master Arran's eyes shot wide open in fear, and Laritzia barely kept herself from giggling. Duke Siebold had no reservations however, as he raised a hand to his lips and let out a light chuckle, the boredom in his face vanishing for the first time that night.
"So has she smiled upon me, it seems," muttered the Elite Four member. "Finally, something worthy of my interest. Now, young Percy, would you do the honors?"
Nodding decisively, Master Percy raised a hand toward the sky then threw it down, pointing straight at his father's face with an Ultraball he'd produced from his belt.
"Marquis Arran, head of the Morow family. I, Viscount Percy Duve Morow-Chabashira, with the authority granted to me by these eight badges and the blessing of Duke Siebold, challenge you to a trainer battle for the title of Marquis, as well as that of the head of our house."
Duke Siebold raised a hand in front of his chest. "I vow for this challenge's veracity, as a member of Kalos' Elite Four. Marquis Arran, do you accept these terms?"
The look that crossed Master's Arran's face then was that of a man who'd been slapped across the face, and it was a wonderful sight. At this point, Laritzia truly could not help herself. A huge grin stretched her lips and the tips of her shoulders shivered in excitement.
Morow-Chabashira, eh? Then…
Not only would he see Master Percy become head of the house tonight, but he'd apparently already found himself a fiancée. Alright, yes, this wasn't entirely for the Master's own benefit. He'd told her of his plan through the phone, of how he needed his father's influence for himself, more specifically his close relationship with the Interpol's Intelligence Division, in order to gather vital information for a mission of his back in Sinnoh. But regardless, to think the boy Laritzia had held in her arms as a baby had grown to become this caliber of man…
Oh, Master Percy, I am so happy, she thought, wiping a tear off her eye. And I cannot WAIT to tell the rest of the maids about this!
Newmoon Island looked exactly the same as Fullmoon island, with a single exception.
Candice stood amidst a field of flowers the color of charcoal, their petals short and numerous, coiling closely into a dome around the stigma while the thinner, longer filaments rose up in wider arcs all around. She only recognized their shape because they were Fantina's favorites; red spider lilies. Although due to their unusual color, a third of that name no longer applied.
Then again, the unexpected was expected when it came to the spots that legendary beings called their home. These flowers had been white in Cresselia's home. Here, where Darkrai rested, they were black. It was odd, yes, but it also made sense.
"Good to see you again," she spoke, her voice thin and raspy from exhaustion. "Hope you've recharged your batteries."
Darkrai lay suspended in the air mere feet from her, the black of the flowers around him paling in comparison with that of his wavy, nebulous body. Even the barely-moonlit night around him couldn't compare. The swirling darkness that gave him form was such that were it not for the white of his hair and the red of his collar, she would have mistaken him for a hole in reality itself.
He opened his eye at the sound of her voice, and a third color emerged from the darkness. A calm deep blue that sent shivers down her spine. She felt a tinge of fear and anxiety at the sight, though she couldn't quite make out why.
"It… has been centuries since I've rested for so long." One would have expected Darkrai's voice to be rough and grumbly, but in reality it was smooth like silk, moving through the air like smoke underwater. "You needn't worry about me, Guardian of Snowpoint."
Candice flinched at that moniker, but she was quick to hide it. Cresselia had called her that once, before she'd told her to cut it out, and she couldn't blame Darkrai for doing the same. These two had been alive for far longer than the title of Gym Leader had existed.
Luckily, she didn't need to try to hide the irritation in her voice, since the one that spoke out next was not her.
"Your darkness is as deep and rich as I've ever seen. Oh, Darkrai, I am so relieved…"
A puff of light rose like smoke behind Candice, materializing into the ethereal shape of Cresselia. Some of the flowers around them seemed to shrink into themselves at the sudden burst of light. Even Darkrai flinched for a moment. Regardless, he pushed through the discomfort and floated ever closer, ignoring as the wisps of darkness around his body were burnt off by his partner's light.
"All I have endured, Cresselia, I've done so knowing I would one day return to your side."
"I wouldn't expect any less. If you think I've had my fill of dancing dangerously with you through the night sky, then you've got another thing coming."
"Haha. I would never even consider it, my burning light."
"Nor would I, my gentle darkness."
Candice rolled her eyes. Not in a dismissive way but with a smile and a tug of laughter at her stomach. It was the exasperated yet amused gesture of a teacher with very little sleep who'd seen her students do something both dumb and adorable.
"Thousands of years of myths about you two being mortal enemies," she said, catching their attention. "And it turns out you're sappier than a couple of high-schoolers on their first date. I doubt my image of you two will ever recover."
Cresselia laughed in her mind, but Darkrai said nothing, seemingly confused by her comment. Maybe he wasn't very accustomed to teasing.
"But in a way, we are mortal enemies. And we most definitely are opposites," said Cresselia. "Should we get too close to one another, the energy brimming from our bodies will tear each other apart. The most prominently our side of the moon shines, the more dangerous our furtive dances become."
"And it is only for a brief moment, when both are in perfect balance, that we can be close to each other at all," said Darkrai.
Candice had heard some of this before, but still she couldn't help but make a sad face at the information. "It must be rough."
"Not nearly," said Cresselia. "Love is not about distance, or touch, or the pain we might feel in each other's presence."
"Does the dark half of the moon resent its light side for swallowing it whole?" asked Darkrai. "Of course not, for it knows it will soon emerge once more, and its roles will reverse. All its other half has done was give it a chance to rest."
Her lips drew into a line, splotches of paleness dotting her face. For a moment, her lack of sleep made her feel dizzy and unsteady on her feet, but… no, it wasn't just that.
Maylene. Maylene was still up there in Mt. Coronet. Following Team Galactic, skirting closer to danger and death than she ever thought she'd willingly allow. Just she and her Lucario against all their enemies, in a place where she couldn't run if she were to…
For a second, panic overtook her. She closed her eyes but all that did was bring horrific, twisted images into her mind. Maylene crumpled against the cavernous walls, eyes wide and unseeing, a ribbon of blood marking where she'd slid down the wall as she'd collapsed. Her breath hitched in her throat. She'd seen this image before. The one night Cresselia had retreated to her island to recover her strength. The first time Candice had gotten to sleep in years.
And the last. The very next morning, she'd asked Cresselia to bond with her again.
But if now she was seeing these images while wide awake, then…
She felt a warm pressure on her shoulder. Cresselia didn't have hands to give her a reassuring path, nor a body at the moment, but the gesture did feel similar. Candice opened her eyes and forced herself to breathe, looking over her shoulder at her bonded partner.
"Love is not about distance," the legend reminded her. "More than anything, it's about faith. And freedom."
Candice swallowed hard, her expression becoming hard.
"That's easy for you to say," she whispered. "You're ageless, and there's very few things that could kill you. You don't understand what I'm going through."
"Would she not believe in your strength, would your roles be reversed?" asked Cresselia. "Why do you doubt her so?"
"Because promises mean nothing," she hissed. "And because I can't afford to lose her. I don't care if that makes me a bad person, a bad girlfriend. I won't stand aside and worry while she's out there, risking her life. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."
A sigh was heard on her mind, one she'd heard from Maylene plenty of times before. It was a sigh that said 'Arguing with you would be pointless'.
"You intend to persevere with this proposal of yours, then?"
"Yes, I do."
"What…?" There was confusion in Darkrai's voice for a moment, but then realization hit him. "Ah… of course. Your visit was not entirely an altruistic one, I wager."
The slight irony and irritation in his voice was enough to soften Candice's expression into something akin to shame. She had to look away.
"I'm sorry," she was quick to say. "I know how this must seem, so soon after what happened. After you were used. But–"
"You needn't worry about me as though I were a fragile flower," said Darkrai. "I have already decided to help you."
Candice snapped back to look at him, eyes wide. "R-really?"
"Of course. You helped my partner in her moment of need, disregarding your own wellbeing. For that, I cannot ever repay you," he explained. "Besides, what happened was nothing new. Humanity has shunned my very existence since the moment of my creation. It would be foolishness not to return the kindness of the one exception so far."
Shame and pity welled up inside of Candice, though she determined not to show either on her face. She understood Darkrai's feelings. Showing pity would only offend him. Regardless…
Once all of this is over, I will do my part, she thought, determined. Next year, when the Festival of the Moon comes once more, we will celebrate both Cresselia and Darkrai.
She simply nodded to show appreciation, which seemed like enough. Darkrai mirrored the gesture.
"However, I'm not entirely sure how much help we'd be able to give," he said. "The closer we get to the moonless night–"
"The more your power will decrease," Candice nodded. "I've thought of that. But… what if it didn't have to? What if, when the moonless night came, that power was not inside your bodies, but somewhere else?"
Darkrai turned his head slightly, eye widening with confusion and curiosity. Inside of her, Cresselia's hesitation pulsed like a second heartbeat.
"What… do you suggest?"
Candice stood firm and extended a hand toward Darkrai, eyes brimming with a determination as firm as ice.
"Bond with me. Join Cresselia and take refuge within my Spirit," she said, her voice booming. "I'll keep your power safe, until it's the right time."
The look of a being as ancient as feared as Darkrai looking at her with eyes wide and shell-shocked like those of a Deerling in the headlights would have been a hilarious image, were it not for the circumstances. However, despite his clear befuddlement, he did not react as candidly as Cresselia had to the idea.
"That is… a very dangerous idea," he warned, his voice still calm despite it all. "I don't think you understand to what extent."
She chuckled. "Trust me, Cresselia made it plenty clear just how stupid an idea it is."
"And yet…" she whispered.
"She and I are like water and oil," said Darkrai. "Our Spirits cannot mix with one another."
"Then mine will be in the middle, keeping you both at bay," declared Candice. "I will be the line that divides you two."
"Even so… with two, there is a balance. An equilibrium of Spirit. But three…" Darkrai looked down. "You… we would overpower you. Our Spirits might completely overtake yours. You might die on the spot. Even if it works, you might be left broken and barely-functional. I'm certain that, even in the best-case scenario, you would be unable to sleep ever again, even after we're gone."
It was entirely possible that her chronic exhaustion and lack of sleep were partly responsible for the making of this decision, as well as just how done she was with everyone's concern for her, when they'd been completely fine with sending Maylene to her possible death. But right now, she didn't care. Not about herself.
"If that's the price to pay, I'm willing," she said, then smiled. "It's alright. You're not going to overtake me. I'm a teacher, remember? I've already got a Spirit wide enough to accommodate my love for all my students. A couple of legends should fit in just fine. Maybe have enough room to stretch your legs, even."
There was silence for a short moment. Darkrai looked up, from Candice to what she knew he must be seeing behind her, locking eyes with his partner. They seemed to have a wordless conversation before his gaze returned to Candice.
"If this is what you choose–"
"It is," she said fiercely.
"…Then there is something you need to know," he continued. "It may not be relevant, nor important. I hope it's not. But it is only fair."
Candice frowned. "What is it?"
"We… are not fragments of the Original One, like all others of our kind. We're not even the smallest crumbs of its once-whole power. We… are shadows," he explained. "In the most literal sense of the word. And shadows are not part of what they're attached to. They are formless, an absence."
Candice blinked a few times, confused.
"I'm telling you this because I will not allow you to make such a choice uninformed," said Darkrai. "All I ask is that you consider the breadth of these beings, considering what their shadows are."
Great, so more weird, occult bullcrap. Candice had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She didn't care one bit about the shadows of once-great beings or however eloquently Darkrai wanted to put it. Her problems were a lot simpler and mundane that the existence of gods she might never meet.
"It's fine," she said. "I'm willing."
"…I see. In that case…"
Darkrai's gaze bore into her like a drill, the deep blue of his eyes shining with power. Candice pursed her lips and kept her fear down.
"Are you ready?"
"Whenever you are."
"Very well." There was a pause. "For what it's worth… I am sorry it had to come to this."
There was a void of light, followed by a blur of movement. Then Candice felt as though a hammer had hit her very soul, two powers like burning stars clashing against her at the same time, like pieces of broken glass digging into every inch of her being.
Newmoon Island exploded with light and shadows, rising toward the sky in a massive pillar as they intertwined with each other, the girl within it nothing but a blur, nothing but a scream of agony that shook the night with almost enough force to shatter it completely.
