Ruin Valley
May was snoring, very quietly, still propped up against the tree. She seemed impervious to the morning sun, not flinching away as golden light settled across her closed eyes. Paul watched, curious, for just a second longer than he could justify. Manaphy's face was pressed into her stomach, sleeping soundly. It was oddly reassuring to see them at peace, away from where Team Aqua ever had cause to find them. For now, they could rest without fear of harm.
Paul took this opportunity for some personal space.
He tidied away his sleeping gear and set up his pack again, considering leaving a note. Opting not to, he strode inland to see what might be in the area. The wilderness here was lush and untamed, and grass grew long enough to tangle around his boots and ride into his trouser legs. Undeterred, he carried on, scattering small patches of Natu in his wake.
Trees hung lower towards the middle of the clearing and Paul had to take out a pen knife to cut away the branches. Once he did, he managed to get to the rocky structure concealed within. There was a jagged opening, small and embedded into the ground with rocks. With one look back over his shoulder towards camp, he made his way inside.
Inside, the cavern was cool and dank, with moisture feeling as though it oozed through the grey stone of the walls. He stood in the middle of the hall that had opened up around him, turning slowly on his heel to observe the new environment he found himself in. There were multiple exits, openings shaded in ominous shadows that could coax him into losing his way and becoming trapped down here infinitely. Cautious, he looked over the room once more, looking for some kind of clue.
He found one. On the furthermost wall from his entry point, there were arrows inscribed into the wall. This, he could use. He scribbled them down on the next available page in his notebook, marked underneath the subtitle of 'Six Island'. Up. Left. Down. Right.
Taking a chance, he went for the opening the first arrow led him to. He slipped through the opening cautiously, lowering his body to the ground by carefully gripping the ledge and sliding his body lower slowly. Once his feet were near enough to the ground he would allow himself to drop and fall. The next cavern was just the same as the first, the same openings in the ground and the same miserable greyscale welcomed him into the fold.
The dust from the floor collected on his shoes, but he wasn't too bothered by that. For the first time, he longed for a camera, wondering privately to himself if this was the first odd little temple or otherwise he'd come across that his father hadn't found before him.
He found the next opening, the one to the left, and repeated the process. Each new drop he made, the room never changed or differentiated itself from the others. Dully, he wondered what his route back to the top would be, but he was too far committed to give in now. Next, the furthest down drop. Finally, the opening to the right…
The last room he dropped into had a stairwell to the side, which he appreciated as a point of exit. In the very middle of the room, catching his attention, was a cluster of gemstones that seemed completely embedded into the floor. Burning red rubies and shimmering blue sapphires, glinting from a lightsource he couldn't see. Perhaps, he thought bluntly, that they were, in fact, the light source. He approached them instinctively, wanting to learn more, but not a single gemstone came loose in his hand and they were uncomfortably cold to the touch.
Relenting, he turned to the rest of the room. There were more markings on the wall, more things for him to cover and add to his notes, and he was determined to collect every molecule of information he could find. There - on the back wall - there was something that caught his interest.
His pen scratched awkwardly against the yellowing paper of his notebook, the pages withered from his travels and the last of his ink running dry. Yet, meticulously, he carved out upon some of the last few pages of his book the precise, detailed engravings that were embedded into the walls of this final room. There was a pattern of dots that had immediately drawn his attention, identical in so many ways to the markings he found upon each of the Regi temples he visited on his father's word and on the research of one Gary Oak.
This language of touch, of physical presence, of texture, shape, friction - it had marked so many sights on his journey now that he'd wished he'd taken the time to memorize the translations. Instead, he would have to return to the surface with merely imprints on his page and then painstakingly decipher each letter like a code. But it felt like something new, a rune of his own to discover and to keep as progress made by him and him alone. A wave of superiority soaked his soul; it would be something to show Brandon with a raised eyebrow and silent smirk.
Meteor Falls
They'd rested overnight in a small alcove deep in the caverns, deeper than any of the trainers knew how to describe. Without the sun overhead, it had been hard to distinguish night and day, but Dawn's PokeEtch alarm had woken them at eight on the dot. Groggy and less enthusiastic than the day before, they continued with their explorations.
Meteor Falls had proven to be vast. The ceilings were unmatchable in their height and yet somehow hot air lingered around them, refusing to rise to the peaks. The walls around them felt as though they radiated light, a soft golden haze smattering across them and leaving every sight almost blurred in yellowing fog. Together the trio waded through it, Pikachu resting at the nape of Ash's neck. The longer they went without signs of human life, the more disheartened their journey became. Even Ash had begun to slump in his shoulders as their journey took them deeper and deeper, with no hint of hope.
Until, suddenly, there was.
A giant Salamence swept overhead, roaring and letting out a white-hot, gaseous breath that gave off a lilac glow. Gary identified it as dragon breath, and they immediately took chase, sprinting to follow where the navy dragon might lead them. The telltale red wings on either side of the leviathan-sized Pokemon gave them an easy sight to follow, and down the winding expanse of the cavern, they were slowly led to a blindingly bright exit.
They were at the top of a mountain, with views that stared down at the epic vastness of Hoenn. Every way you turned, you could see the landmarks and the cities of the region with startling clarity, Breathless and exhilarated, the trio clung together, grasping arms and speaking wordlessly with gaping mouths and awed expressions, the world around them open and new.
Salamence had flown ahead and now swirled over the very peak. Further ahead, small huts and settlements could be spotted. They were built out of the stone of the mountain and willowy branches threaded into thatch. Most had high rocky chimneys that spewed black clouds of smoke, the telltale sound of a traditional village. Adorned in tan hides and hand-woven fabrics, the people of this hidden village moved amongst each other with ease, smiles, and humour. The kind that came with familiarity and community, a small-knit group who never felt the need to part.
"This is incredible," Dawn breathed, slipping her hands into the palms of her two companions. Neither pulled away, both boys nodding in awe. Unified, together, they made their way along the footpath to discover more of the village. The sun was shining overhead with the kind of blistering effect that made the air shimmer around them, wobbling with the intensity of the heat. To contrast and make it livable, there was a heavy cooling breeze that pressed against them as they made their way along the dirt trail.
The locals had initially been suspicious of them, but when Gary had asked for someone they could learn from with sincerity, they had been happy to point them in the direction of the elder's hut. As they explored, they noticed most trainers here had dragon pokemon and no pokeballs to contain them in. Flygon and Vibrava filled the sky; Bagons and Shelgons toddled around their trainer's feet imposingly, and the great powerful Salamence they had followed here hovered overhead, watching them as they navigated the village.
The village elder lived in the smallest house, furthest up the mountain and therefore the hardest to reach. Overheating from their travel gear but glad to be wearing solid footwear, Ash, Gary and Dawn continued their way along the path directly to their destination with much less conversation than they'd been able to generate before. Each was lost in separate thoughts. Dawn thought wonderingly of the stories she hoped they might hear, of the continuation of the legends that Gary had begun to introduce to her, of the reality that these myths could potentially take. Gary thought of his prejudices, of how he could begin to distance himself from his immediate dismissal of the stories he'd heard so far, and how he could allow himself the opportunity to hear new ones without pushing them away.
Ash thought of Max.
They finally came to the small structure that made up the elder's residence. The door was made of wood, withered and warped from decades of exposure to the harsh elements they could only imagine striking often in these dizzying peaks. Ash took the initiative to knock, his hand curled into a fist and rattling against the planks impatiently.
"Be polite," Dawn reminded him in a harsh whisper. Ash blushed and nodded his head quickly.
The door swung open, and a familiar, beaming face glowed at them. Dawn reacted first, her mouth splitting into a laugh, her hands clasping together in front of her in excitement. Ash floundered, stunned, and Gary's jaw went slightly slack.
Wallace, a grand coordinator and temporarily the champion of Hoenn, stood before them with a lofty grin.
"Grandmother," he called over his shoulder, "we have guests!"
They were ushered inside to the humble abode. The walls were covered in hand sewn mats, adorned with stories and inscriptions with the sturdiest of threads and most precise of needlepoints. Low slung seats against the walls were covered in old red fleeces that had worn away over time, patchy and faded. The floor was bare, and the stone floors seemed to generate a blissful cool after so much heat. Wallace gestured the way they should come, and they found themselves in a kitchen with a circular wooden table surrounded by stools, with an elderly woman busy in a cupboard, collecting small cups in which to pour tea.
"I assume," Wallace smiled grandly, "that you have traveled so far to meet with the village elder. This is Kaiana, my grandmother." The woman turned to them with a bashful, toothless smile, immediately warm and welcoming.
"Welcome," she mumbled, her words a little garbled. "Please, please sit! You must be exhausted! Let me busy myself with making tea, I won't be long."
Shyly but with a tremour of anticipation, they took their places around the table. Kaiana bustled around the kitchenette, pouring steaming water into a large grey pot and sprinkling in tea leaves liberally. Wallace sat alongside them as they waited, and turned to Dawn in particular with a goading wink.
"So how does one of my favourite coordinators find herself in an odd little place like this?" He greeted her teasingly. Dawn flushed, laughing bashfully.
"Well, it's a long story," Dawn replied brightly, "but it's a wonderful surprise to see you here Wallace!"
"It's been a long time," Ash added in, equally keen. "You probably don't remember, but we met once in Sinnoh! I'm Ash!" Wallace turned to him, his eyes foggy for a moment, before they snapped back to Dawn in realisation.
"Oh!" He nodded. "I remember vaguely. It was when I first met you, Dawn, right? You entered the same Wallace Cup, with your Buizel! It's hard to forget a trainer with as vibrant a personality as yourself." Ash sat up a little straighter, grinning stupidly as he nodded. Gary awkwardly cleared his throat.
"This is our friend Gary," Dawn filled in, gesturing to him. "He's a researcher from Kanto. The three of us came because we want to learn more about the Draconoid tribes!"
"You've done well to find us here," Wallace complimented. "I feel fortunate to be here as you arrive; I'm not often here myself." He turned to Gary, his smile turning analytical. "So if you're a researcher, Gary, you must be the driving force behind this little investigation?"
"I'm not so sure," Gary offered, quiet. "I think it's more a joint determination between the three of us at this point." Wallace paused, growing thoughtful, and then he turned back to Dawn with a frown, looking at her curiously.
"How come you remember Dawn so well?" Ash asked brightly, obliviously. Pikachu's ears pricked up, equally curious. Wallace softened.
"Over the years, she's won more of my Wallace Cups than I care to count!" He answered with his voice caught in a laugh. "She truly is an exquisite coordinator. Why, at this point I'm close to remaining the whole event after her!"
"That's an exaggeration," Dawn cut in, her cheeks pink but her smile vibrant. "It's always my favourite event of the year!" Wallace's smile grew wider, but tighter.
"I am obliged to ask," he turned to her with a slightly downturned smile. "Have you been in touch with one May Maple and her family? I know from talk that the two of you are close friends." Dawn's smile faltered, and then fell completely. Ash looked down, his own enthusiasm fading, and Pikachu let out a soft, sad cry.
"Sorry," Gary cut in, offering his friends a commissary smile. "It's just, the reason we're seeking out the Draconoids is that we're trying to support the Maple family as best we can." Wallace's face changed, and he sat up a little straighter.
"Ah," he murmured. His eyes flashed in recognition. "You're researching the legends to respond to Magma and Aqua." The trio nodded together, resolute. "You must all be good friends of the family, then."
"Both May and Max traveled with me for a long time," Ash explained quietly. "I was there when May started her journey. There's something about traveling with someone like that, it just bonds you together, you know? Forever?" Gary swallowed at this, giving him an odd look. "As far as I'm concerned, they're my family, just like everyone else I've traveled alongside. I'd do anything if it meant helping them through this." Wallace nodded solemnly, giving Ash an appraising but generous smile.
"Where are they now? Still at the hospital?" Wallace's question seemed more urgent than kindly curious.
"Caroline is still in the hospital, she's still in her induced coma," Gary explained in a respectfully gentle voice.
"Max is staying with Roxanne in Rustboro and spends most of his time at the hospital," Ash added, more hollowly. "May left."
"She left?" Wallace frowned. Dawn shook her head soberly.
"We told her we would go with her," she said sadly, "to track down Manaphy and keep him safe from Aqua. But she took off without us, and we haven't heard anything since. We have no idea where she could be." Wallace's eyes were wide, his pupils quivering slightly, and he coughed into his arm to try and hide it.
"Tea!" Kaiana interrupted, placing a tray in the center of the table with slightly shaking hands. The pot spilled over slightly with her tremor; Wallace reacted quickly, helping to steady her and took over in the distribution of the drinks. He passed out cups and stood over them, pouring generous portions of the green, steaming liquid inside and instructing them softly to let it cool for a moment. "You are good, Wallace. My hands aren't what they were!" She gave Gary an overfamiliar grin, nudging him in the side as though bringing him in on a private joke, and he laughed obligingly, immediately warming to her.
"You do just fine, Grana," Wallace told her kindly. "Grana here has lived alone in this house for the last twenty years. She's a force of nature."
"Wow," Dawn looked at Kaiana in awe. "You take care of this village all by yourself!"
"Oh, I'm never truly by myself," Kaiana warbled warmly. "Salamence is by my side through it all, and my lovely Granddaughter lives close at hand. She helps me with all and more."
"Grana, they've come with questions about the tribe history," Wallace told her factually, "I know that they're coming with sincerity and respect. It would be good to share with them what we know. In the meantime, I need to make a call to Steven about something quite urgent, would you mind?"
"Very well, very well," Kaiana nodded, her welcoming smile fading into something more focused. Wallace excused himself with a soft nod, and disappeared through the door he had welcomed them through. "My dears, what would you like to know?"
Ruin Valley
Antenna tickled under her nose, and May's face contracted in an involuntary twitch. Her eyes opened in a blur of luscious green, sunshine yellows and the vast blue of the ocean. As soon as she adjusted, it was Manaphy's trills that grounded her into reality. They were gentle but confused, catching May's attention as she started to stretch out her muscles and pull away from where she had leaned against the tree. Curiously, she watched Manaphy potter around their temporary camp in a mumbling concern.
"G'morning Paul." May yawned. "What's bugged Manaphy?" Slowly, she stood, letting her back click as it fell into place, supporting her while she tidied her sleeping bag away. "Paul?" She turned, expecting him, used to him, sitting by the ashes of the fires they build together and staring at the ocean or pouring through his notebook.
He was gone, and May felt something funny creep through her stomach. Swallowing, she shook it away. Rationally, she knew he could easily have slipped out for a morning walk, or to train, or simply to get a better grip of their surroundings. His pack was left nearby, soaking up rays from the sun, and so she knew he'd have to return at some point. Curiously, Manaphy began to rummage around the pack as though looking for clues as to where their companion might have gone.
Overwhelmingly awake and brutally restless, May tsked under her breath and scooped up Manaphy in her arms.
"Don't snoop," she scolded softly, despite her own desperate curiosity. "Let's get things ready for when he comes back, Paul hates hanging around and wasting time." This very thought lingered with May as soon as she'd said it; she knew Paul would have wanted to be on their way as quickly as possible, so why wasn't he back yet? The notion unsettled her, his absence becoming as present in her mind as the headache that had now swept her unannounced.
She busied herself. May checked their supplies, fed her Pokemon, tied her hair in its bandana and fussed Manaphy. She dismantled the remains of their campfire and gathered their belongings. She stretched her muscles and checked their location on her phone once more. She gathered berries from close by trees and scrubbed her face with salt water.
Paul still hadn't returned, and her chest felt tight.
"This is ridiculous," she narrated with Manaphy irritably. "Why am I so tense? He's just doing something. He let us sleep. He was being nice!" Manaphy cooed uncomfortably, perched atop her head as she fidgeted with the dark soot in the spot their warmth had once been found. "I don't know why I'm acting like this." Manaphy dropped into her lap, soft smiles and sad eyes, and he nestled into her chest as though to comfort her. May felt her lower lip wobble, intrusively, but she bit it to prevent any progress down that line.
"I've never been someone who worries like this," May continued, her voice lower and yet more urgent. "I mean, not like this . I worried about you when Aqua said they were looking for you. I worried about leaving Max behind. I worry about things you're supposed to worry about." Her monologue was almost in a whisper, a hiss to herself as though trying to bring herself back to a past life. "I don't worry about this. I don't worry about nothing. I don't worry about being," her throat choked, "being left behind."
Wind moved around them, but nothing else did. The sky was empty except for a few wingull, dipping their wings into the ocean and fluttering back to the clouds. May pinched the bridge of her nose.
"He wouldn't," May rationalised, "come this far and leave. And even if he did, he's allowed. He owes me nothing. Paul doesn't owe me anything. He can do what he wants, I shouldn't care. He wouldn't care, why should I care?" Manaphy's antenna drooped unsurely. "I don't even know why he's here, why he bothers. He's just annoyed by me half the time. He's just like my…"
May's mouth went dry, and she slapped her hand over her lips before the last word could come out. Her eyes began to sting, and so she closed them tight. Manaphy's head dropped further, small arms clutching her shirt, and they stayed completely and totally still for an endless moment.
Finally exhaling, finally surfacing, May gave Manaphy a watery smile and shrank further into her worn red jacket. Slowly, she stood, moving out to the very edge of the coast and pulling her face back to how it was supposed to look: neutral, dry, pink in cheek and relaxed.
The sound of earth underfoot crunching brought her back, and she saw Paul stood a little way back, watching her strangely. A surge of something - of relief, or weakness, of grief or of fondness, she wasn't sure - took her by the ribs and brought her to run to him. Before he could question it or react, Manaphy was stuck between them as she fastened her arms around him in an unreasonably tight hold, tucked into his torso like a leech on something warm-blooded.
"What are you doing?" Paul's voice was tight and uncomfortable, like he'd stepped in something that made his skin crawl. May didn't react, latched to him as though he was the final pillar holding her aloft, and his expression changed as he felt her shoulders start to shake.
"I'm sorry," May's voice was muffled in the synthetic plastic of his jacket, waterproof and impervious to her tears. "I'm just really glad you're here."
Paul sighed in a way that to an observer, he might have looked annoyed. Contradicting that, he lifted a hand and placed it gingerly on top of her head, as though scared it might break.
"You're an idiot," he said quietly. His voice held no malice.
Dewford Town; The Battle Pyramid
Being here was sickly. The last, lingering thread of familial relation gave him the unique position of knowing where the Battle Pyramid was at all times, and for the first time since his days a competitive trainer, Reggie had made the choice to use it. Dewford had been an odd choice, Reggie thought, but he'd followed the GPS loyally and found himself at the entrance to a home he'd long forsaken. Not bothering to mask the tremor in his fist, he rattled the back of his knuckles against the closed door and waited quietly for something to happen. A camera glanced his way, the door opened without ceremony or fanfare, and Reggie hated how familiar the interior was. Time stood still for a man who did nothing but fixate on ancient history, and while the rest of the world turned, Reggie knew this was a building that did not evolve with time.
He walked himself in, not caring about the trail of sand he left embedded in the carpets in his wake. Brandon turned a corner, his eyes narrow and painfully curious, but his face otherwise expressionless, and the two met in the middle of a plain, empty corridor, staring one another down.
"Where is he?" Reggie bypassed greetings. Brandon raised an eyebrow. "He usually checks in at least once a week. It's been a month. The last time that happened," Reggie's eyes focused accusingly, uncharacteristically oppositional, "it was the last time he battled you."
Brandon's eyebrow raised.
"You've come all this way to chase down Paul?" His voice was measured but his shoulders were back, authoritative and asserting a power he was keen to reclaim. "How far the bonds of brotherly love carry you."
"For whatever reason," Reggie flicked his wrist pointedly, "I am all he has, and he is all I have." Brandon's shoulders dropped and suddenly he looked tired, his eyes sinking and his posture sagging under an invisible weight. "Do you know where he is?"
"No." Brandon was honest. "But I have seen him more recently than you, I think." Reggie's jaw tightened, already angry.
"You still let him fixate on beating you, don't you?" Reggie almost spat. "Why will you never let him go? Why can't you let him move on?"
"Let's not have this argument hovering in the entrance, like strangers," Brandon replied in a somehow stiff yet simultaneously hopeful voice. "If we're going to speak so frankly, we might as well at least sit down."
And so, they sat.
Brandon walked ahead of Reggie as he led him through what had once been a childhood home. They wove through corridors and doorways and found the kitchen. They sat on either side of a breakfast table with mug stains, surrounded by unwiped countertops, dishes piled in a sink, and a photo frame on a wall with a young Brandon holding a woman in a blustering, fluffy white dress.
Brandon passed Reggie a tall glass full of cold water, and he sipped it, reluctantly grateful. "He didn't challenge me when he was last here."
Reggie's expression changed, warping from quiet, protective fury to a vague curiosity. "Oh?"
"He came in response to the recent Magma attack on the Pyramid, the one a few weeks ago." Brandon looked at Reggie somewhat challengingly, raising an eyebrow. "I'm fine by the way."
"He came for that?" Reggie's lips tightened, ignoring the small jab at his expense. "Why? That's not like him."
"The last time he challenged the Pyramid was about three years ago now." Brandon gave the information almost smugly, as though disproving Reggie's suspicions about his encounters with his younger son was something that stoked his ego. "From that point, I set him on the path of studying the Regis and the ancient history of Hoenn on his own. I wanted at least one of you to have learned something from it." Reggie's face became gaunt with disbelief.
"You're really doing this?" He muttered in disbelief. "You're making him your little protege or something?" Brandon's brow furrowed, frustrated. "I tried for years to ease him past this, to coax him into letting go of this. You just won't let him live without this, this eternal hangover from you."
"He's my son." His voice boomed between them. "So are you."
Silence lingered between each of them for a beat too long, and the air became stifling. Reggie stared at the table between them, picking out words delicately because he wanted them at their sharpest.
"You can see us as your sons all you want," Reggie replied finally, coolly, "but that doesn't mean we have to see you as our father. Not after," he paused, as though struggling with the taste of the words on his tongue, "not after what you did to him." Brandon took his time replying, indulging in his own glass of water and feeling the cold glass against the edges of his mouth, leaning into the feel of it there as a distraction from the initial stab of guilt that Reggie wielded so cautiously.
"I know," Brandon replied. They sat in silence again, the air thick with the context they couldn't touch for fear of it burning their skin away and leaving them exposed to something much worse than cruel words. "I'm pretty confident he's gotten caught up with the conflicts in Hoenn, the incidents with Magma and Aqua. I'm sure if he's been out of contact, it'll be from that."
"When did you last see him?" Reggie demanded, his knuckles white as his hands knotted together on the table in front of him. He suddenly remembered, vividly, having a bowl of cereal there when he was seven.
"It's been a few weeks," Brandon replied quietly. "I had a few other guests at the same time, and one of them said that Paul was in Petalburg when the fire that destroyed the gym took place." Reggie paled. "I'm sure that the events there have taken his attention."
"And you just thought you'd pop around on your studies, flying around in your little mobile castle, and pretend it wasn't happening?" Reggie retorted hotly, an instinct to protect flaring his fury once again. Brandon stared at him determinedly, holding eye contact in an unwavering challenge.
"I'm following my studies," he responded coolly, "which I am certain are involved in these recent incidents. And I am preparing should there be a need for intervention in the future." Reggie's eyes bulged from his skull, incredulous and livid.
"Instead of fixating on a history and a culture that does not belong to you," his eldest son scorned, "I wonder if you'll ever care about how things are in the present."
With that, he drained his water glass and slammed it a little too hard on the table between them. Standing abruptly, he nudged his chair under the table with too much force and it clattered noisily.
"Thanks for the water," he said dryly. "I know my way out."
Meteor Falls
"I gotta ask," Ash started, his smile enthusiastic as his companions each sipped their tea. The elder turned to him kindly, her smile crinkling the crow's feet that adorned her eyes proudly, like medals of honour. "Does this tribe have any relation to the Village of Dragons in Unova? I have a good friend Iris who grew up as part of that tribe."
"I believe there is a related tribe to the north of Unova," Kaiana replied with a slight nod, thoughtful. "We have been distanced by generations, but we will share common ancestors who hailed from this land in Hoenn." Ash let out an awed breath, grinning excitedly. Pikachu's ears pricked up, thinking fondly of their dear friend so far away. "Our stories and histories intertwine and link. I know the Unova tribe is well established and takes great care for the dragons native to their lands."
"That's so cool," Ash breathed. Kaiana smiled, warmed by this and immediately fond of the boy with the Pikachu.
"So the legends about Rayquaza bringing the war between Kyogre and Groudon to an end…" Dawn jumped in, unable to keep a tremor of anticipation out of her voice as she leant forwards. "Are they true?" Gary's eyes flashed curiously towards the elder they sat with, nervous to show how keen he was for her answer. A grin played across Kaiana's mouth, tugging at the corners of her lips at their unified display of excitement. "Rayquaza… he's a part of all this, right?"
"Well," Kaiana scoffed, "of course. I've met him myself."
Ash banged his hand on the table, leaning over it and out of his seat at the thought. Dawn clapped her hands over her mouth, squeaking inadvertently. Gary withdrew in his seat.
"I met Rayquaza once too!" Ash immediately began to gush. "Well, kinda. More, helped with preventing the destruction of La Rousse City by Rayquaza. But I count it all the same!" Kaiana gave him a startled, bemused look, a laugh slowly overtaking her face.
"My," she hummed. "You are a peculiar one."
"How did you meet Rayquaza?" Dawn asked rapidly, her voice coming out in bubbles as she bounced in her seat. Kaiana twitched her nose at Dawn knowingly.
"It was once my role as the inheritor of this tribe to monitor the Sky Pillar," Kaiana purred, leaning back in her chair casually. "Naturally, I crossed paths with Rayquaza more than once. But only ever on Rayquaza's terms; he was almost permanently absent. The first time he appeared to me, I was grieving the loss of my husband." Her face softened, her eyes closed, and her hand touched her chest. "I believe Rayquaza chose then to remind me of the permanence of one's soul, for the waiting of my beloved in the beyond. Bonds of love and of family, they are the ones that transcend all things, but most of all death. Rayquaza was simply my messenger."
"How beautiful," Dawn melted into her seat, saturated with warmth. "What a wonderful encounter."
Wallace chose this time to duck into view, reemerging from the entrance of the small home and tucking his mobile phone back into his pocket. He gave a genial, kind smile as he took his seat once more, immediately sipping his now cool tea.
"My most sincere apologies," he preened. "Where are we up to?"
"Kaiana was just telling us about meeting with Rayquaza." Ash was practically vibrating in excitement. "It's an awesome story for sure!"
"That it is," Wallace smiled genially, nodding along. "I shall take my new responsibilities as the Sky Pillar's Guardian very seriously, that is certain." Kaiana bowed her head to him generously, her smile broad. The trio of travelers collectively inhaled, looking to Wallace with shining eyes.
"You're the new Guardian?" Gary repeated unsteadily, his mouth growing dry. Wallace nodded, preening slightly.
"Grana is passing on her responsibilities, gradually," Wallace explained primly. "Normally, the elder would take on the job of monitoring the Pillar, but as the next in line for that role is so young still it is being passed on to me as a temporary measure. Just until my dear cousin comes of age."
"Your cousin?" Dawn pressed, blinking. Wallace laughed her off.
"She's simply the next in the main family bloodline," he explained softly. "Nothing that concerns your research, I assure you." Dawn withdrew, nodding with wide eyes.
"So Wallace," Gary took over with a harder approach than his companions, "if you're monitoring the Pillar and you're directly involved in the League, there must be some kind of plan in place for if Kyogre and Groudon ever take to their conflicts again?" Wallace looked him dead in the eye, analytic and appraising, and Gary swallowed thickly.
"There's something very skeptical in your tone of voice," Wallace told him bluntly. As though to punctuate his sentence, he took a generous sip of his tea, and watched as Gary flushed. "Am I correct?"
"That's not an answer to my question," Gary insisted. "Is there a plan?"
"Well of course there is." Wallace shook his head, almost incredulous. "We don't take kindly to the destruction of our region, and we certainly don't take kindly to those who murder our Gymleaders." His voice hardened. "Steven and I are prepared for any eventuality."
Simultaneously, Ash and Dawn relaxed. Gary remained tense.
"You're confident?" He pressed harder. Wallace did not flinch.
"Of course I am," he purred. "Just as you are that I am wrong. So really, what's the point of you asking me twice?"
Open Waters
"Sit still," Paul repeated, tired. May huffed uncomfortably, shifting herself from side to side slightly on purpose. Scowling, Paul pressed the notebook harder against her back to keep it in place while he used a second hand to adjust her shoulder, keeping her at the angle he needed her to be. May was acting as a reluctant prop for Paul to work against, a flat surface in the form of her slightly hunched over back as they sat cross-legged on Wailord's back once more. He'd wanted to make good use of the travel time they had ahead of them and worked carefully on translating the braille runes he'd found in the small shrine.
"How much longer is it going to take?" May justifiably complained. Paul sighed but didn't answer her, focusing on the braille. She scowled, looking out to the ocean ahead of them and the path they were carving out through the water. They were headed further south, far from the Sevii Islands and deeper into the blank expanse of oceans that few traveled without powerful ferries and mechanical transport. It was ominous to be so far from land, but neither Paul nor May were willing to admit any kind of discomfort to the other, neither wanting to sacrifice their pride. Despite this, the empty, barren seascape around them left their heart rates ever so slightly higher.
Afternoon drifted on. "Last phrase," Paul muttered, partly to himself and partly to reassure his unwilling desk. May brightened and tried to relax. She could feel the pressure of his pen through the notebook and her jacket, swiping in loops and wiggles as he scribbled his work along her spine, and it tickled awkwardly. He left one final mark - a full stop at the end - and May knew without instruction that she was finally free to turn around and face him.
"All good?" She asked excitedly, scooting around and trying to lean across his work to peek. Defensively, reactively, Paul lifted the book outside of her line of sight.
"It's some kind of riddle," Paul told her in a quiet voice, his brow furrowed. "Possibly related to the orbs."
"No way!" May murmured, awed, her whole face lifting. This would have been worth a much longer stint as a workspace, so the transaction was positive. "What does it say?" Paul cleared his throat, uncomfortable with narrating it to her, but more uncomfortable with handing over his notebook.
"Let the two glittering stones," he began, "one in red, one in blue…"
May interrupted. "The orbs!" She recognised eagerly. Paul glared at her, raising a single eyebrow pointedly. "Oh, sorry. Carry on, carry on!" Blushing pink, she tried to smile in an appealing sort of way. Paul rolled his eyes.
"One in red," he held her eye contact for a moment, dragging his words a little to make a sarcastic point, "one in blue, connect the past. Two friends sharing power, open a window to a new world that glows." His tone changed to one of quiet wonder. "The next world waits for you."
"Wow." May breathed out slowly, her throat catching. "A new world that glows."
"The next world waits for you," Paul murmured, as though he were agreeing with something she said. "Strange."
"That's so vague…" May pursed her lips. "I wonder what it all really means. Do you know what it means?"
For a moment, Paul furrowed his brow and thought hard over the information and evidence he'd collated slowly over the past three years. Every temple, every code in the stone, every engraving in a shrine, and every story he'd memorised. He looked up and stared into May's hopeful, shining stare and wished he had something more meaningful to show for it.
"I have," he announced, "no idea."
May's lip trembled for a moment before she cupped her hands over her mouth to contain an uncontrollable titter. This soon evolved into a boisterous, booming belly laugh and she tumbled backward as she fell apart. Paul watched her, quiet, but smiling a rare, self-aware smirk.
"What?" He questioned, knowing full well.
"It's all so ridiculous isn't it?" May choked on her words, her body shuddering with her laughs. "We're really just… winging it, aren't we?" She sat back upright, looking him dead in the eye as she wiped away mirthful tears. "We've no clue what we're doing!"
"We don't know as much as I'd like," Paul amended her exaggeration quietly, trying not to mimic her contagious grin. "We're doing fine, though."
"We are?" May trilled, her mood shifting from inconsolable laughter to an excited giggle. Paul nodded, appeasing her. "Fine. In Paul language, that's practically perfect." Paul looked away at this, stifling a laugh of his own.
"Ridiculous," he scoffed, but May could see the way his eyes shone and the deflection therein. She was closer. Every day, she felt closer. Inconceivably, but gradually, she knew he was at the very least her friend.
"Two friends sharing power…" May recited from the riddle, her voice quieter now. "Maybe that's us?"
Paul's lip twitched, just about meeting her eye. "Maybe," he allowed. May's face burned red, and her smile was bright enough to fill the emptiest of oceans with life.
Lilycove City
Wandering the market stalls, Axel came across a small wooden stand covered in jewelry of infinite colours, shapes and sizes. He drew to a pause, lifting and inspecting a small rainbow dipped scale, most commonly found on Luvdisc. His eyebrow raised.
"How much for this?" He asked the vendor politely.