Chapter LX
Nova considered skipping breakfast completely at the sight of the stew – deep green, like a giant bush had been stomped on and served as a meal. Nonetheless, she ladled a spoonful into her wooden bowl, snatched up a hunk of bread, and was just reaching for what she hoped was cheese when she heard someone yell her name across the dining halls within the ship.
"Nova! Nova!"
With a sigh, she glanced down at her shadow. "I'm here, Barry."
She watched him freeze as he heard her voice, watched that grin spread across his face. Then, he was launching himself towards her, his face lit up as she helped him reach for a bowl.
"Me and you today, aye?" he was saying, fumbling for the ladle. "And whoever wins gets to fight Queen Cynthia. And maybe gets to be the next king or queen. It's bloody crazy."
"Aye."
"You won't say fuck Cynthia to her face, will ye?"
"Probably not."
If she sounded more clipped than usual, he didn't seem the least bit bothered by it. If anything, it only seemed to fuel his energy – make his grin wider, his eyes brighter, his cheeks fuller.
"Say, did you do much training this morning?" Nova asked.
Barry shrugged. "Nah, I'm not gonna push it too hard. Neither of us need to get hurt. Either way, we're going to the castle."
She was lucky he couldn't see her frown.
It was just as she thought – he wasn't going to push himself. Not for this, at least. Not against her. For the exact same reason she didn't want to unleash the feral beast that was Rhys on Barry and his team.
Love.
Because, even if either of them wanted it, they would always put each other first. Not some bloody crown.
Nova bit back her sigh.
This was going to hurt.
"Wait," she quickly said. "We're both going to the castle?"
He nodded. "Aye. I spoke to Riley this morning. He said whoever wins will get to take their whole family to the castle."
"Well, I guess you better win, then."
"What?"
Nova gripped the bowl in her hands tightly, feeling the pain in her knuckles, her fingers, those raw cuts. "We take our family, aye? So, if I win, I take me mother. If you win, you take your mother."
"What I meant was…" His brow furrowed, then he gave a short laugh. "Nay, you don't understand me. He didn't say we'd have to choose one. And you're also me family, so I'd take you, too."
"You should probably try winning, anyways."
Her voice was cold as ice. Sharper than blades.
And Barry stepped back.
"You're… not going to take me?" he asked, his voice small.
She heard the rest of his question, even if he never said it.
You're not going to take me even though you've known this has been my dream?
You're not going to take me even though I'm one of the only true family you've had?
You're not going to take the only person who never stopped believing in you?
Nova simply swallowed the pain in her throat.
"It's a big bloody castle, Barry. I don't want to have to babysit you."
That did it. The bowl in Barry's hands slipped onto the floor, sending warm soup dribbling over her boots.
"That's bullshit, Nova," he hissed. "You haven't had to babysit me since we've left Twinleaf."
"It doesn't feel like that."
He didn't even snap back to her low voice. He just cocked his head to the side, frowning. "What game are you trying to play?"
"No game."
"Then why are you acting like this?"
"Acting like what?"
"Like a…" His whole face crumpled as he thought, as he tried and failed to come up with something. So, with a sigh, he just said, "It doesn't matter. Let's just eat."
Nova felt for his hands, pressing her bowl into it. He gave her a warm smile.
"Is it alright if I eat with some other gladiators today?" she asked. "We spent some time drinking ale last night, and I wanna talk to them more."
That slapped the smile right off his face.
"Aye," he mumbled, hurt and confusion and pain written all across his unseeing eyes. "That's… fine."
Nova didn't bother thanking him. She just curtly turned on her heel and strode past the tables, past the gladiators, and out of the dining hall.
Because she just knew if she stayed there a minute longer, everyone would have seen the tears in her eyes.
Nova looked her best friend in his eyes. Saw no flicker of softness. Nothing close to what he usually showed her across their journey, where he would keep her close and smile. There was no trace of that hurt left, either – all of that had been left behind at the dining halls.
What she did see, though, was rage.
The gladiators and knights assembled around the circle of Victory Road. Nova and Barry faced each other across the granite, the blood from Buck's Claydol scrubbed away.
Barry sliced through the air with his sword, his Empoleon by his side. Nova took one glance at Tric, beckoned him to come by her side, before feeling for her own sword.
The gong rang, and the pair joined, steel against steel, speed and agility against strength and cold fury. Every gladiator knew that they were friends – and Nova just knew they were expecting one or the other to fight soft, to let the other win.
Within seconds of the gong fading, that thought was left dead on the circle's floor. Barry and his Empoleon were out for blood – his face was twisted and his teeth were clenched as his Empoleon whipped a jet of water towards Tric, while Barry swung at Nova's head.
Empoleon was quick, but Tric's footwork kept him hemming on the circles edge, dodging each jet of water. Without Empoleon near him, Barry was smarter, too; he was wary, guard high, never overextending and moving too far from his Empoleon's cries.
His blade whistled in the air, bright notes ringing across the stone as their blows met. Nova locked up his sword, blades intertwined, leaning in closer as he pressed down on her with his strength. Sweating. Red-faced. Scowling.
"You seem angry, Barry."
"Leave it be, Nova."
She lashed out with her knee, hearing gladiators hoot as it connected with her friend's groin. He doubled up, and she slipped side, spinning away as his Empoleon left Tric to slide along the ground and rush to Barry's side.
"I can kiss those better, aye?" Nova called out to him.
It was the Empoleon who reacted to that, bellowing in rage and charging across the circle, still sliding on its belly. Tric danced forwards, sliced at its wing with a whirlpool of flames. Then, launching himself through the flames, Infernape struck with a punch, sending the Empoleon flying up, a dark burn on its belly.
Nova heard the Empoleon cry out, and she could see Barry getting angrier and angrier. Could hear the gladiators revelling in the show. Could feel Riley watching intently as the blind boy tilted his head, set his jaw, clenched his fist and listened.
And so, Nova used that moment of the crackling flames and the moaning Empoleon to knock Barry's sword aside with a swift backhand strike, sending it spinning across the floor. She ducked as Barry lunged with his shield, stepped aside as he struck again. And, dropping down to the floor, she felt Tric launch onto her back and bury his flame-riddled fist into the boy's chest.
The gladiators gasped. Nova looked up at Barry's pain-filled stare. Eyes locked with his as she nodded for only Tric to see.
And the Infernape, with pain written all over his face, opened his mouth.
"Crip," he whispered.
Barry's face paled. He gritted his teeth, narrowed his green stare. Reached out to grab Infernape's hand and seized it tight, crushing his fingers before swinging him aside with his shield. Then, white-knuckled, face twisted, blood spilling from his mouth, his leg found Nova. Barked an order.
Nova had been so focused on his face that she'd missed his Empoleon jumping back onto her feet, missed the beam of water hurling towards her. And, as it smashed into her, she felt Barry kick at her – barely missing her as she rolled aside, but managing to kick aside her sword as the pain from the force of the water splintered against her side.
Then, he was drawing back his shield, smashing it into her face. She reeled away, blood spilling from split lips. She found her way to her feet, lashing out with a kick, but Barry didn't flinch. He just pummelled at her face again, stars bursting in her sight as the shield met her cheek, head lolling on her neck as darkness gathered behind her eyes.
Another lash of water from the Empoleon sent her to the floor, fingernails clawing at the stone as she tried to rise. Even when she heard Tric scream, rushing towards her, he released a strangled cry as the Empoleon shot across the ground like a jet, spurts of water erupting behind her.
Nova tried again to get back up, her muscles burning. But she was heavier than normal with the water soaking her clothes and armour, with the thumping in her head. Still, though, she was rising, inch by inch, breath by breath—
A boot met her ribs. Another. Another. Looking up through a haze of red as Barry stopped, leaned down, found her sword, and raised the blade in a two-handed grip and prepared to plunge it into her. Listening as his Empoleon cried something out, and adjusting the blade so it was no longer over her legs.
Instead, it now hovered just over her heart.
"Yield," Nova whispered.
All of Victory Road fell still.
"Yield," Nova repeated, leaning back against the stone.
Barry's chest was heaving. Grip quivering. Eyes distant.
And behind him, Nova saw Buck smile and wink.
"November has yielded," Riley finally said, his voice but a rasp. "Match to Barry!"
Barry hung there a moment longer, his rage slowly turning into something else – confusion? Guilt? Pain? And when he lowered the blade and tossed it side, he sank to his knees, coughing, pressing his hands onto the stone as he tried to find her. The gladiators were on their feet, cheering, bloodlust shining in their eyes.
And when Barry found her face, ran his hands down all the blood that dribbled there, she heard him choke back a sob.
"I'm sorry," he was saying. "I'm so sorry."
"I'm alright," she told him. "I'm alright."
But looking into his eyes, she realised that perhaps it wasn't her that he was apologising to.
"Does ale help a sore head?"
"…perhaps you may be the first to find out?..."
"I'd try, but my legs hurt too much to get up."
"…oh? i thought it was your head?..."
"I wish."
"…don't suppose your arms also hurt?..."
"I'm glad you're here to remind me."
Nova flopped down on her cabin bed, eyes on the ceiling. Thoughts racing in her head.
Barry had won. Now he was the one who would get to challenge Queen Cynthia at the castle – except, there was no Queen Cynthia. But, at least, he may get to spar against Riley. Or, better yet, they would just hand over the throne to him. Or, knowing Barry, if he really didn't want to be king, he would tell the people in the castle that – and maybe he'd just dine in the castle for a night and ask to leave.
"…why did you allow buck's threats to make you do that?..."
"He didn't make me do anything."
"…oh, really?..."
"He didn't want gold, Darkrai. Not even the throne. He just wanted to explore the bloody mountains where he lives."
There was a knock on the door before Darkrai could say any more, and all the Pokémon in the room perked up. Leila rose, padded across the room, and opened the door for the guest.
Nova took one glance at him and felt her heart beat a little quicker.
"Good evening, Barry."
"Evening."
He was wearing something along his shirt – a little pin, a sword carved of polished ironwood.
"Congratulations," she told him.
Barry nodded, chewing his lip. "Can I come in? I won't be here long."
Nova hummed a yes, watching as he awkwardly felt his way in, his shoulders set like stone.
"You let me win," he finally said.
"No. I fought as hard as I could."
"But you made me fight harder."
She sighed. "I knew you'd go easy on me, otherwise."
"Getting Tric to say that, though? A word that both of us—"
He didn't even have to finish. Nova heard the rest in her own heart.
"You know me well enough to know I didn't mean it, and I am sorry," she sighed. "But I had to make you angry. You'd let me win otherwise."
"So? What's wrong with you winning? I don't want to be bloody king."
"It's not about being king. It's about making sure you get in that castle, and making sure you get the chance to fight Cynthia or Riley if you really want to. This whole gladiator business – this was your dream. I just want what's best for you, don't you see—"
Barry scowled. "So you play me like a puppet, aye? Twist me up inside to do that instead of just telling me."
"By the shadows, Barry, I couldn't just let our Pokémon not have a fight they've been wanting—"
"I know!"
"Besides, since Queen Cynthia is bloody dead, what does any of it even matter?"
Her words seemed to hit Barry like a buckler to the jaw.
"What?" he asked.
And so, with a sigh, Nova gestured for Leila to close the door. Then, she explained all of it – her conversation with Buck, Queen Cynthia not being present, the plans of those within the castle, Riley's Clefable being held prisoner. All of it coming down to her promising not to win her match. To make sure both young lads – Barry and Buck – could live their dreams. But also to make it a match worth remembering.
By the end, Barry was sitting on her bed, running his hands through his hair.
"Arceus, Nova," he breathed out. "Why didn't you tell me before Riley asked after the match to choose my family to invite to the castle?"
Nova felt her heart sting. "You didn't choose me?"
It was fair, of course. She had told him that she wouldn't choose him.
But now she understood how much it hurt.
Barry waved away her question, though.
"Don't be a fool," he said with a snort. "Of course I invited you. You drive me mad, but you're still family, muttonhead."
Nothing could stop the warmth from spreading across Nova as she reached out and grabbed her best friend, wrapping her arms around his torso and dragging him onto the mattress with her as she held him tight. Breathed him in.
You're still family.
"Wait," she suddenly said. "Then why did you wish I told you before Riley asked you to choose your family?"
Barry made a face. "Because, when I said yer name, I also asked him to eat a Bidoof's arse before kissing you."
With a laugh, Nova slapped him gently on the back of his head before squeezing him tighter. Beckoning her Pokémon to come closer.
Her family.
Buck strode into the castle, the thumping of his boots muffled by the indigo carpet laced with golden threat, his gaze darting over the walls. Looking at everything – the tapestries and dark cloths, the oak doors leading to more halls, the suits of armour, the swords crossed on the walls.
Anything but the four people standing by the throne, awaiting him. Lucian on the throne itself, with Aaron perched on the armrest beside him. Poor old Bertha sitting on a wooden chair beside him, and Flint pacing across the carpet, fingers curling and uncurling.
Buck stopped just by the stairs. Did a slight bow.
"The Gladiator Games are officially over," he said.
Flint stopped pacing, drawing a long breath. "Did you keep your promise?"
"I could not win, no. The gladiators were too strong. But I did make sure November didn't win, either." He gave his brother a crooked grin. "I made her fight with kitchen knives after stealing her sword."
It was Lucian, the purple-haired man on the throne, who nodded at that, slipping his hand into his coat before holding it out for Buck.
"Good work," Lucian said. "This is yours."
Buck felt his heart race as his hands wrapped around the paper.
The letter that would allow him to move past the knights at Stark Mountains. To explore the caverns he had grown beside, the same place where his own brother had trained years before him. It may not have been real – Buck was well aware that Lucian had forged Queen Cynthia's signature. But it would do.
He instantly turned to leave, his feet not moving nearly as quick as he would have liked to. But when he reached the large oak doors at the end of the hall, he paused.
"Before I go," he called out, his voice echoing out, "I should mention the blind gladiator won."
Aaron scoffed. "Easy. One of us can pretend to be Queen Cynthia and spar him."
"Aye…" Bertha said, biting her lip. "And even if one of us pretends to be Queen Cynthia, what happens if he wins?"
"Please, Bertha, like that will happen. How can it be difficult to beat someone who is blind?"
Buck bit back his grin as he added, "Also, lords and ladies, I think I should mention that the blind boy has chosen November to come with him to the castle. And she knows that Queen Cynthia isn't here."
"You told her?" Flint demanded. "You told her?"
"Nay. She has a Darkrai in her shadow. What wouldn't she know?"
All four of the lords exchanged a glance.
Shit.
Buck pushed open the door, his foot already halfway out when he turned his head over his shoulder.
"Also, Lucian?" he called out. "I have a suggestion."
"What?"
He shrugged. "Don't bother with writing threats and delivering them as notes. She can't read."
Then, he was gone, the door slamming behind him.
"Oh?" Lucian was murmuring softly. "She can't read?"
"Forget that," Flint snapped. "Now what?"
"Now what?" Bertha repeated.
"Now what do we do?"
Aaron stood up, stretching his arms back. "It's easy," he said. "Blind boy comes in. Challenges the queen. One of us will pretend to be her, and battle him privately. We make sure he loses, and he can tell everyone that Queen Cynthia was victorious."
"Aye, but the girl is coming," Flint retorted. "And she knows Queen Cynthia is not here."
There was silence yet again as they all stared at Flint.
"That is a problem," Lucian finally said.
"It's more than a problem, Lucian," the red-haired man snapped. "If she exposes us, we're gone. Out of the castle. We would have to give the throne to Riley, and he isn't keeping us here."
His face was burning red as he glared at the queen's advisor, who was only moving his purple hair behind his ear. Looking completely unbothered. Even Bertha seemed worried, her face lined with more creases than usual, tugging on her short grey hair.
But it was Aaron who spoke, a smile on his face.
"I have an idea."
"What?" Flint asked him.
"We fight them. Each one of us, one at a time, and tell them some bullshit about how we're making sure they're worthy of Queen Cynthia." His green eyes were lit up as he added, "If we can just stall them for a bit, we can find a way to get rid of her silver tongue before she tells anyone. Find an assassin, or I can poison her meal."
Lucian's brow shot up, and Bertha flinched back at Aaron. The youngest he was, barely past his twenties, but almost as cruel as Lucian.
"We probably don't even need to find an assassin," the green-haired boy said. "While we test them, we can deal with them ourselves."
Finally, Bertha stood.
"These two gladiators defeated every single legionary in Sinnoh," she pointed out. "What makes you think they won't be able to defeat us?"
Flint frowned, and even Aaron looked stumped. But Lucian chuckled.
"Legionaries fight fair," he said. "They lose nothing but a crystal from their chest."
Bertha folded her arms. "Aye?"
"But we, dearest Bertha, lose a whole kingdom."
He leaned back on the throne, twirling a lock of his hair.
"Let them come in. Let them feast and dine in these halls. Be polite to them. Let them know how impressed Queen Cynthia is by them."
They were all moving closer to him, drawn in by his smile.
"But when we fight them, we show them why Queen Cynthia chose us to look after this castle. Understand?"
There were nods all around. Some far more enthusiastic than others.
Nonetheless, Lucian clapped his hands together.
"Then bring in the challengers to the throne."
