Open Waters
Days had passed since they left the Sevii Islands. Manaphy, expert navigator of the sea and all it held, had been clever enough to find small patches of land to let them rest through the evenings and nights as they came and left, while daylight hours had been spent in excruciatingly quiet stretches of surf through an infinite ocean. It was getting close to the time where Manaphy might direct them to land, but Paul noticed that there had been no subtle shift in direction for a while, and no island or shoreline in sight. It bothered him, quietly, but their routine had been solid enough for long enough that he trusted the small blue prince.
Their conversation over the past few days had ebbed and flowed like the water around them. At times, May would let Paul linger in silence, and she would narrate her thoughts into a journal instead. She would write sheets into a small book from her pack, illustrating it with cartoony smiles, silly drawings of Manaphy or even Paul himself, and she'd memoralise their journey in snapshots of anecdotes, conversations and feelings she wanted to treasure. His own notebook, fraying and reaching its end, felt clinical and impersonal by contrast, filled only with lopsided, slanted cursive text, mimics of engravings that had caught his eye and runes he'd translated. Where his writings had felt academic, important and helpful for his studies, hers were imbued with life, passion and joy.
It was so like her to look for joy in her grief.
As the afternoon dwindled and settled into evening, Paul quietly enjoyed the rush and quiet of the foamy sea as it rocked against the side of Wailord's ever patient body. May had been coaxed gently into a nap, the rhythmic rise and fall of their journey lulling her into a light sleep. She'd tried to resist at first, but had succumbed slowly as though being gently tugged underwater, and she had fallen inadvertently into Paul's side. Eventually, he'd managed to shuffle her down without waking her, and she lay resting with her head lolling against his outstretched leg. Over time, her proximity bothered him less. She was so insistently physical a person, from grabbing his arm in solidarity in moments of surprise, knowing nudges when she was trying to rile a laugh out of him, soft brushes of fingers against his hand when she thought he would allow it. At first, this had left him with a lingering urge to back away and remove himself from coexisting with her, but with practice came comfort. No longer feeling as though she was an invasive force, he merely welcomed her in the same way he would air that he needed to breathe or the clothes on his back, a necessity in his day to day that he endured for the practicality of it.
Gradually, gently, their forward motion came to cease. Stopping still in the water, rolling slightly with the waves, their travel came to an end. Paul frowned, looking around curiously. There was no temple, nor land, nor obvious reason for them to arrive at a halt. Subtly, Wailord began to dip downwards, sinking slightly into the ocean to allow an easier time boarding for Manaphy, who was keen to get their attention.
Paul jogged his leg, and May blinked awake, jarred and disoriented for a moment. Groggily, she stared at him with bleary, unseeing eyes as Manaphy approached, trilling and cooing in excitement. May turned to their new companion with a sleepy smile, opening her arms and letting him take refuge there.
"Are we at land?" She asked through a yawn.
"No," Paul replied, tense from confusion. "We've stopped." May gave him a quizzical smile, lost but willing to help figure things out, and she looked to Manaphy with a grin.
"Are we here?" She whispered quietly. Manaphy nodded, keen and bouncing in her lap. "We are!" May's face broke out into a broad smile, and she looked upwards hopefully. The sun was low, but nowhere near low enough to reveal a moon. "The eclipse is tonight. This is perfect timing!" Celebratorily, Manaphy squeaked and bounded, leaping straight from Wailord's back and into the ocean, leaping from the surf and twisting in the air, leaving shimmering trails of droplets in his wake.
"There's nothing here," Paul told her bluntly. To an unseeing eye, he was correct. The water was vast and empty, no land for miles, and only the unsteady ripple of powerful ocean waves to disorient them. May pursed her lips, almost amused, and she stretched her arms above her head to try and wake herself up a little.
"I already told you, doof," May giggled, "we won't see it until the lunar eclipse!" Paul gave her a hard look, waiting for a punchline, but none came. Instead, he raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"I thought you meant we'd be able to access it during the eclipse," he replied stiffly. "I did not anticipate the entire temple being invisible to the eye." May laughed again, her cheeks pink with excitement.
"Well," she shrugged, still grinning. "You live and you learn!" Paul couldn't stop himself from scoffing derisively, and May's cheeks puffed out in a sulky protest.
"I'm not looking forward to the moment you accept that an entire temple cannot be completely invisible," Paul continued, his voice dry, "and you tell me we came all this way for no reason."
"Oh?" May's voice took on a challenging, oppositional tone. "Wanna bet?" Paul watched her blankly, passive, but reluctantly intrigued.
"Bet?" He drawled. May was giving him another one of her infectious grins, mischievous and goofy. "What are the stakes?"
"If I'm right," she offered tauntingly, "I get one request. Anything I want, within reason, with no excuses." Paul watched her eyes glint with the possibilities, and for just a moment, he was tempted.
"As in, I buy you something?" He clarified. May shook her head.
"No money involved. Just like… a favour? A request." May's lip twitched, giving away an ulterior motive. "Just a request."
"You already know what you want." Paul's accusation made May flush and scowl, immediately defensive.
"No I don't!" She wriggled slightly in place, pouting a little. "I just want to have something to hold over you, that's all. Come on, what do you want if you win? Say the temple appears, and you win the bet. What do you want?"
"Nothing," Paul replied blankly, and May deflated. She narrowed her eyes, waiting for him to change his answer. "Hn. Fine, I'll have the same. A request." He rolled his eyes, taking a huff of a salty breath from the air. "I'll probably just end up asking you to leave me alone."
"Fat chance," May blew a raspberry, her tongue catching on her lip. "I'm winning this one! The temple will come up here, I know it!"
"Whatever." Paul kicked himself back, reclining on Wailord with little care. "I best start figuring out what request I want." May nudged him with her hip, scoffing.
"It's astrology, all over again!" She pouted. "You really can't stand the idea that there could be anything more powerful to the universe than your own opinion." This caught Paul's attention for a second. Sensing he was listening a little more meaningfully, May took the opportunity to demonstrate one of the few things she knew she could do perfectly; locate and showcase something beautiful.
"Think about it," she murmured, tilting her head up to the sky almost artistically, aware he was watching the way her neck would crane back and the way her ragged tufts of hair would brush against her jacket. "The moon has so much power over the world we live in. The ocean, the most endless and powerful thing I can think of, decides which way it will pull depending on where the moon is. The tide gets pulled by some invisible force that decides in the morning where there is land, in the evening there will be sea. Something as essential as water," May paused to breathe in slowly, "something that has soaked over every part of our existence. We drink it to live, it grows our food, it even makes our air. If the moon has power over something so utterly integral to our beings, holds our ability to survive in the palm of it's hand…" she trailed off, tilting her head to the side with a softened, yet powerful smile. "Why can't other things in the universe influence so much more?"
"I don't know how to reply to that," Paul admitted gruffly, rolling his head back to look up at an empty sky alongside her. She hummed in acknowledgment, indulging in her thoughts. She sat upright, leaning into the sky, while he rested his head on the surface underneath them and observed, quiet and reflectful. "That kind of power is interesting."
"Still interested in power, huh?" May's voice sounded broader through a smile, choked through her own fond laugh. Paul made a small, reluctant sound to confirm. "What do you think power is?"
Involuntarily, Paul felt his scarred arm twitch inside of his jacket. "Strength."
"What does that give you?" May pressed, her eyes still fixated on something far beyond where they sat. At first, Paul said nothing, but a word came to mind and he decided that here, for her, he could say it.
"Pride." It was quiet and almost swallowed in the winds that whipped the sea into messy waves. May bowed her head, knowingly, finally tearing her eyes away from the sky to look at him with large, sad eyes.
"I understand," she whispered. "I wanted the same. I hope whatever made you feel like you need this," the wind picked up. "I hope it changed."
"You think too much," he told her, gruff and indifferent. May ignored him and placed a hand over his, lacing their fingers together bravely. At first, she was nervous, waiting for him to recoil and scorn her sentimentality. Pleasantly he surprised her, relaxing his fingers ever so slightly to let her knot their hands together like steadfast rope.
For a moment it was quiet, and Paul decided for once, he'd be happy to break the silence.
"I'm still winning the bet," he told her bluntly. May laughed, careless.
Meteor Falls
Wallace knocked on the door with a brash familiarity, and Gary flinched at the forcefulness of it. Dawn and Ash seemed to be spurred forwards by it, leaning in towards the wooden barrier with nervous grins and wide eyes. Pikachu chirped interestedly, his nose twitching as he arched forwards from the top of Ash's cap. The sun was dipping, dabbling just slightly in the horizon, another day on the mountain coming to an end. Since hearing the heir to the title of Elder of the Draconoids was returning soon, the trio made the difficult decision to linger amongst the tribe and absorb more knowledge until they had chance to meet her. Ash had not handled this well, often disappearing for hours at a time to train with his Pokemon to expel his frustration with standing still.
"She's here," Wallace said tiredly, knocking again. "Zinnia!" He called loudly, hoping the sound of his voice would spurr her from indoors. He turned back to his newfound allies with a weariness. "She got back this morning, so she's probably asleep."
"Oh," Dawn floundered, her cheeks pink. "I don't think we should disturb her if she needs to rest. You said she came all the way back from Johto, right? Maybe we should wait a little longer."
"We've been waiting here for days!" Ash complained brashly. Pikachu sighed, torn, his eyes flickering between his trainer and Dawn with a sense of defeat. Determined, Ash stepped around Wallace and took to knocking himself, his fist tight as he slammed the side of it into the door furiously. "Hello!" He called in noisily.
"So impatient," Gary sighed musically, raising an eyebrow at his oldest friend pointedly. As though to demean him, Gary hooked his hand around the scruff of Ash's jacket and jerked him backward. "Manners don't cost a dime, Ashy-boy."
"Don't!" Ash squirmed away from him, restless and frustrated. "You might not believe in any of this, but I'm sure that it's all real!" His face flushed a little, he turned to Gary with an uncharacteristically curled lip. "And if knowing this stuff is gonna help take down Magma and Aqua, and help Max - then we need to know right now! I'm tired of waiting around!"
"Ash!" Dawn chastised, her eyes wide. Wallace recoiled a little as well, thrown by his intensity. "We're doing everything we can, we're going as fast as we can. I think you need to step back a bit." Her eyes focused on him pointedly, but he wasn't listening, turning away from the group in a huff.
"Our friend needs us." Ash was sullen, but quieter. "And I won't let him down." Gary watched, performatively quiet, and watched the crease that was forming in Ash's forehead and the hunch to his shoulders, tension clearly building and knotting into his muscles. Pikachu seemed startled, alert, but unhappy, his eyes sad as he looked away from the group and down the cliffs of the mountain they stood atop towards the world that lay away from them.
"Right." Gary placed an open palm firmly on Ash's shoulder and gave him a stern nod. "We're on your side."
Ash's face changed, relaxing, and he began to look sheepish.
"Right." He looked away. "Sorry."
"Apology accepted!" A new voice chimed, and each of the four stood on the doorstep jumped to attention. The front door was long open, an amused grin greeted them from a girl who looked no older than sixteen, with dark, wild eyes and cropped messy hair. She was dressed in loose cotton and sturdy woven shorts, and her feet were bare as she leant one against the doorframe.
"Zinnia," Wallace took over quickly, offering her his hand in greeting. Zinnia looked at it for a moment, incredulous he would ask her to shake it, and then busied herself with folding his fingers forwards. Once satisfied with his closed fist, she bumped her own against it.
"Wallace," she mocked his serious tone of greeting. He scowled. "You old doof. Get in, already. Jeez."
She ushered them all inside, oozing a sense of familiarity and comradery to three total strangers by virtue of their presence alone. The inside of her home was barren, devoid of personalisation, and all that it seemed to contain was bare wood crafted furniture and a hollow fire pit. A dust had settled here, like they were the first to visit this place in eons, and a singular stone stairwell left only optimism that upstairs there might be something more substantial.
"I'm never here," Zinnia offered an explanation before it was requested, pressing down on Gary's shoulders to place him into one of the available chairs as though she'd known him decades. "It's really just a place to sleep, so sorry if you're expecting something more… well, more!" There was a friendly, chattering nature to the way she spoke that put the room at ease, and Wallace gave her a weary smile.
"I've offered time and time again to have someone come look at the place, and…" he began, but she rolled her eyes at him.
"Thank you for welcoming us so… warmly," Dawn opened brightly, touched by the girl's unguarded nature. "It's hard to feel like strangers when you're so friendly!"
"Well, if you introduce yourselves," Zinnia prompted, wriggling an eyebrow at her pointedly, "we won't be strangers much longer, now will we?" At this, Dawn's face brightened further.
"I'm Dawn, a Pokemon Coordinator from Twinleaf Town in Sinnoh," she placed a hand over her chest as she referred to herself. "This is Ash, and Gary. Ash is an accomplished Pokemon Trainer, and Gary is a Pokemon Researcher. They both come from Pallet Town, in Kanto." Pikachu cried a soft greeting, waving his paws above his head. "And of course, that's Pikachu!"
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Gary stated politely. Ash nodded enthusiastically.
"We've been really lookin' forward to talking with you!" He told her keenly, his voice a little hoarse with adrenaline. "We wanted to ask ya some questions!"
"I'm guessing that means you already know I'm Zinnia," the girl grinned, taking a sear of her own. "Well, you're welcome to ask whatever you like, but I can't promise you'll like the answers I give, or don't give. How can I be helpful to you?"
"It might be worth knowing the context," Wallace interrupted, giving his cousin a meaningful look. "Of everything that has brought these travellers to want to learn about the tribe."
"No it doesn't," Zinnia shrugged, dismissive. Wallace pulled a face. "No, I'm serious. Whether you got a whole pitiable backstory, or you're here for some university wanting more historical knowledge, or if you're just curious… I don't care, to be honest. I'll answer your questions the same, and having me feeling sorry for you won't make me loose lipped." She looked between the three new acquaintances she'd gained, her eyes a fraction less warm. "I can't promise I'll help you; the secrets of the tribe will remain as they are."
With that, Gary glanced at his companions unsurely. If all this were to be in vain, he wasn't sure how drastically Ash would react.
"We already asked your grandmother, Kaiana, this," Gary opened, crossing his legs as he spoke. "And she said to defer the question to Wallace, who asked us to ask your permission."
"Oh?" Zinnia's ears pricked up, interested. "What's the question?"
"Can we go to the Sky Pillar?" Ash burst in, the pitch of his voice higher with his excitement. "We want to see if we can track down Rayquaza ourselves!"
"It's not just a whim," Dawn broke in by means of explanation. "It's more… we think a conflict is brewing between Team Magma and Team Aqua, ones that concern the legends surrounding Kyogre and Groudon. We know legends say that Rayquaza can end their fighting, and we wanted to be able to…"
"Pass!" Zinnia cut her off, shaking her head. "Sorry my friends, I can't let you do that."
Instantly, three sets of shoulders slumped.
"Only members of the Draconoid Tribe are allowed there," Zinnia told them bluntly, her arms folded across her chest. "I know Grana allowed a random man from Johto access a couple decades back, and Rayqyaza has been weirdly quiet since. Nah, Wallace knows that so long as he's the tower guardian, the only ones allowed in are me, Grana, and himself. We also already decided on any contingencies." She flashed her eyes across to her cousin pointedly. "That was the deal."
Wallace raised his hands in defeat. "I did tell them there was already a plan in place. I just figured it was worth a shot, these trainers are following a noble cause," he told her, smilingly. "But of course, I understand how seriously we must take the favour of Rayquaza. I won't push it."
Zinnia's eyes scanned across the now deflated room. Ash's hands were folded in his lap and gripping themselves tightly to try and mask how they shook. Dawn was downcast, looking out to a window in a perfect picture of melancholy. Gary's arms were folded tightly across his chest, like he was holding himself back from saying something harsh.
Zinnia smiled.
"Aw, lighten up guys!" She sung in a bright, melodic chime. "You really think if anything were to happen with Kyogre and Groudon that we would just sit back and watch?"
Three pairs of eyes flew up to stare at her.
"We're well aware of the situation with Magma and Aqua, Wallace here has been keeping us updated for the past few months." Zinnia's eyes were bright. "If, and it's a big if, they really manage to awaken either of the titans, Wally and I already have a plan in place for reaching out to Rayquaza. If He wants to intervene," she nodded heavily, "He will. We've already got that covered."
Tension left Dawn's shoulders, and she nodded briskly. Ash didn't quite look appeased, and Gary glanced at him, following his lead.
"That makes sense, I mean," Dawn tried not to laugh, "you've all been connected with Rayquaza for eons. Of course you would have a handle on this. We're just… we want to help somehow, I guess."
"What's the fascination?" Zinnia bubbled. "Like, why not just take ringside seats to the chaos, you know?"
"They're friends of the Maple Family," Wallace filled in quietly, tactfully. Ash looked away; Zinnia's expression changed.
"Oh," She shifted uncomfortably. "The gym that burned down?"
"We need to do something, " Ash emphasised pointedly, now rigid with tension. "If we don't, I think I'm going to burst. I can't just sit here and leave this up to the universe to sort out, my friends are hurting and I have to stop it." Pikachu cooed sadly, dropping from Ash's head into his lap, pressing his small yellow face into his trainer's shirt comfortingly. Ash put a hand atop his partner's head, the long antenna like ears sticking through his fingers. "Sorry buddy. Thanks."
"This part," Zinnia told him slowly, her face devoid of a reaction, "of our history and our Rayquaza, this part is not your role to carry out. These legends and myths belong to us, and it's our privilege and our joy, but also our burden and our pressure, to call upon Rayquaza when the time is right."
Ash didn't look at her. Contrastingly, Gary nodded.
"We don't mean to impose," Gary said quietly. "And we don't mean to presume. I think we're all just frustrated and tired of the way things are going, but that's not your problem and it's not your tribe's problem." Dawn picked up this thread, touching Ash's shoulder comfortingly.
"We were supposed to be going with May, to help her track down a temple for the People of the Water, to protect Manaphy from Team Aqua," Dawn explained quietly. "But she left us behind. We're just a little lost."
Zinnia looked to Wallace curiously, who didn't look back at her, trying to keep his own face neutral.
"Perhaps you're trying to help in the wrong way," Zinnia offered gently, empathy leaking into her expression unwittingly. "These legends, these tribes… They should belong to their descendants. The people who are supposed to be involved in this get naturally dragged in and pulled to the places they are meant to stand; it's fate and it's the universe aligning to preserve itself."
"What do we do then?" Ash asked petulantly, not used to being put to the sidelines in a conflict so vast. Zinnia's eyes softened. "How do I… fix it?"
"You can't make it so these things haven't happened," Wallace told him bluntly. "And as much as we all wish someone could, no one can bring back Norman. And fixing this, bringing down Magma and Aqua… none of that will reverse what has happened." There was a distance that Wallace was forcing here, as though considering the truth of his statement wounded him. "Your friends are going to have to grieve."
Silence swept through the room coolly, and finally Ash stood. With tight lips and a shaking fist, he left without another word.
Samiya
Night crept forwards, but the red glow that comes with a blisteringly warm sunset hadn't yet left the sky. Fingers still bound together like woven fabric, they waited, both reluctant to admit they were holding their breath.
"No sign of it," Paul muttered pointedly, giving May a pointed smirk.
"Yet," May exhaled, her eyes round as she searched the sky. They tumbled back into their residual silence, comforting and peaceful, ignoring the feel of the other's palm pressed against their own. The moon hung, glittering white for now, amongst the last remaining dregs of the daylight. It had moved, slowly, painfully slowly, it's full roundness clear and visible. However, bit by bit, shadow had begun to devour it. The eclipse wasn't far off.
"I think for my request," Paul told her smugly, a chastising grin tempting May to shove him into the ocean, "I'll ask you to go a whole day without talking."
"I think for my request," May countered, distracted by the stars above, "I'll ask you to give Ash a meaningful hug."
"Maybe I'll ask you to hand yourself over to Aqua," Paul snapped back, irritated at the thought. May spared him a laugh.
"Maybe I'll ask you to enter a contest," she continued, her mirth rising and the volume of her voice quivering along with it. "Or to be emotionally vulnerable to Dawn."
"Now you're being crass." Paul snorted, and May giggled uncontrollably, delighted in his slight discomfort and the fact that she could bring it out in him.
Wailord's back was smooth to touch underneath them and with her empty hand, May trailed her fingers along him thoughtfully. In the distance, schools of Lapras could just about be made out along the dying horizon, skirting along the red glow at the edge of the perceivable world. Ahead of them in the thick of the waves, Manaphy's head bobbed to the surface from where he played with a group of Mantine as they skimmed the water's edge in rows, the spray from their fins filling each breath May and Paul took with the fresh taste of salt. Every time Manaphy's voice echoed from where they swam together, May's eyes would flicker to the water, smiling softly as though the most content she had ever been.
"Even if I'm wrong," May whispered, "and you get your request," her fingers tightened on his for a moment, "it would all have been worth it anyway."
Paul didn't reply, but glanced at her curiously.
The sun finally sank and the night plunged into darkness, a sweeping violet filling the sky and letting the moon finally glow. They watched as shadows and shapes overcame it, turning the usually silvery light into a burning pink, flush and warm.
The temple's first light was like glitter. The architecture of the structure glowed under the red light, almost fizzing into existence as the waves parted around the newly visible wonder. May burst into life, dropping Paul's hand at last and scrambling forwards on her hands and knees to the edge of Wailord, hovering over his face as she leant forwards to get a better look at the temple she had lost sight of so many years ago. Paul gaped, slightly numb as a temple emerged from nothingness, not surfacing from the depths but literally, magically appearing right in the spot that May had pointed to as though it had always been there. Squealing, May cried out to Manaphy with a sense of victory and she tore off her father's jacket, her shoes and her socks, and threw herself into the ocean to join her surrogate child.
Paul remained still, listening to the laughter and playful abandon in which May played with Manaphy and the Mantine, and he stared wide eyed at the temple that shouldn't exist. The sky glowed red like the dying embers of a fire being extinguished, like the red on Manaphy's chest and the red lining of the tower they'd discovered together in Cianwood.
A burst of a silly giggle made his chest constrict, and Paul came to an uncomfortable realisation about his relationship with May, the girl who made the impossible come to life.
Meteor Falls
A rigorous skincare routine and determination to manage morning hair had given Dawn a natural talent for waking up early. There, from her sleeping bag on the floor of Zinnia's home, she woke to a quiet room filled with only the noise of Ash's blusterous snores and Pikachu's soft shuffles from his dreams. She looked across at them blearily, blinking the sleep that blurred her eyes, and yawned behind outstretched fingers as she recollected where she was and what might be missing.
Looking for familiarity and company, she reached for Piplup's pokeball.
He emerged in light and noise, chirping happily as he materialised before her. Dawn was quick to put a hand to his beak, shushing him as she nodded towards their still sleeping companions.
"Good morning," she whispered, her eyes softening. Piplup twinkled back at her with shining eyes, ready for the day. "Let's get some air, hm?"
She dressed quickly and packed away her things, leaving them in a pile next to where Gary had clearly organised his own much earlier than she had. Piplup pecked at his belongings curiously, the smell unfamiliar, but Dawn scooped him into her arms before he could cause much damage.
"Piplup," she scolded in a cross hush, and her starter huffed right back, characteristically petulant.
They left on tiptoes, Dawn still wiggling her beanie into place as Piplup perched atop her shoulder, setting her yellow hair clip in place. The mornings were the closest to a gush of cold air these mountains would get at this time of year, and her Sinnohian heart longed for a cool breeze.
The roads here were dusty, made by footfall not machine, and uneven under her feet. Dawn's boots caught occasionally on pebbles, her pink boots more suited to wandering city streets than the rugged peak of mountains, but she was never one to slow or complain for a new experience and the added struggle of a poor choice in footwear spurred her onwards. The sky was cloudier today, as though mirroring their overcast expectations for what might come next. She chewed on her lip thoughtfully, wondering what path they might take.
She rounded the edge of the village, talking quietly and companionably to Piplup as they went, cradling him slightly in folded arms that he tucked his flippers over. She told him about their talks with Zinnia, with Wallace, and Kaiana, and the reactions of both Gary and Ash. Navigating them was becoming tricky, with Ash's unwavering need to act upon witnessing the grief of his friends and Gary's slow but steady shift of perspective away from the logic he knew and the mysticism he did not.
Always one to explore a risk, Dawn edged a little closer to the sheer drop that the cliff faces offered, keen to absorb the vast healing sight of Hoenn from a distance. Cautious but brave, she let ground stumble away from her feet as she made her way along to the very edge of the mountain.
Gary had beaten her there, and as soon as she spotted him sitting with legs dangling over the side, leaning back on his hands as he stared at the sky, she wondered if she might turn back and not intrude. He spotted her before she could back away, and he raised a hand in greeting.
"Good morning," Dawn murmured as she came to sit next to him with crossed legs. The view was endless - the forests of Petalburg, the metropolis of Mauville, the coastlines of Slateport, the meadows of Verdanturf, the traditional stonework of Rustboro. She drunk it in hungrily like it would tie her back into reality. Seeming to echo this, Piplup sighed contentedly in her lap.
"Morning," Gary returned, his voice mellow. His eyes were trained higher, away from the physical reality of Hoenn and towards the clouds, not sure any longer what they might conceal. "Nice to have another early riser around."
"Well, I don't just wake up looking this good," Dawn offered a joking wink. "It takes some creative construction to make sure I live life without a bad side." Gary snorted appreciatively, smiling wryly. Now she was closer, she could see the purpling marks under his eyes and the way his skin sagged, like he'd not slept properly in a long time. Dawn paused, floundering before pressing. "You sleep okay?"
"Sure," Gary shrugged, still looking upwards. "You?" He was oblivious to her concern, or at least, chose not to recognise it. Dawn retreated, nodding.
"All good," she replied softly. It was a lie; she'd spent the night haunted, plagued by their helplessness. "The world spins on."
"It does." Gary's voice was slightly harder. They looked out at the emptiness together. "No matter what we do, no matter what choices we make, another day comes along and we still have to live it."
They were quiet with the implications of his words.
"You doing okay with all the… legends and stuff?" Dawn prompted unsurely. She knew how to address Ash's plights much better than Gary's - he would suffice with a new goal to aim his energy at and once he had a set task at hand, he'd thrive once more. Her concern for Gary was deeper and more existential, and she didn't know him well enough to know how he'd react to her prying. Gary gave her an amused, lopsided smile.
"Aw Dawn," he put his hands over his chest, as though cradling his heart, inherently mocking as he simpered. "Are you worried about me?"
"Yes," Dawn replied plainly. Gary hadn't expected this response, and he withdrew his arms, letting them float awkwardly in the air for a moment before he opted to lift Piplup out of Dawn's lap and hold him aloft, getting a look at him. Piplup blinked, surprised, and then began to tantrum, wriggling his flippers in protest and shouting his discomfort into Gary's face.
"Your Piplup sure is spirited," Gary stated dryly, otherwise not reacting to the bundle of frustrated energy he held up. Dawn laughed, nodding along.
"Never a dull moment," she grinned, reaching out to sweep him back into her lap. "Sorry, he's a handful and doesn't like strangers much."
"Am I still a stranger?" Gary asked, raising an eyebrow. Dawn shook her head immediately.
"Not to me," she assured him, taking the time to make eye contact and hold it. "We're friends." Gary paused at this, and then nodded, giving an awkward smile.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "We're friends." This admission lingered between them, and Dawn watched their dynamic shift subtly.
"So," she prompted quietly, "is that a new concept for you or something?" She placed her hand atop Piplup's now settled head, and he began to look out at the distance himself, soaking up the windy breeze. Gary watched him, more comfortable observing a Pokemon than Dawn's watchful gaze.
"No, don't be dumb," he retorted. "I've just never actually travelled with anyone before, that's all." Dawn nodded, understanding.
"Sure," she agreed immediately. "Travelling with Ash and Brock back in the day was like becoming a family. It changes the way you perceive friendships. No matter how close I am to my other friends, there's just this… ride or die energy that I have with them." Winningly, she gave Gary a coy smile. "I got it for a few other people along the way too, from sharing little adventures. Now, I guess we can have it too."
Gary was quiet, absorbing this.
"Ash has travelled with a lot of people." He noted it as an observation. "He's got this weird ability to just adopt people into his life."
"Sure he does," Dawn gave him a puzzled smile. "He doesn't put people down once he's picked them up. It's my favourite thing about him." Gary looked lost at this, and Dawn's confusion swirled. Sighing, Gary reclined back further until the back of his head met the rocks underneath them.
"How many of his old travelling buddies do you know then?" Gary's question seemed uncomfortably leading. Dawn pursed her lips, and then shook her head.
"Enough of them to know," Dawn replied quietly, "that he's told every single one of them about you."
Gary froze up, his cheeks flushing for just a second. He closed his eyes, hoping to look dismissive, but Dawn could see the twitch in his lips that said he was trying not to smile.
"Well, naturally," he replied loftily. "When you observe greatness it's impossible not to spread the news. You didn't answer my question though." Piplup snorted a laugh, almost disbelieving.
"I think I answered your question perfectly," Dawn replied, her voice thick with a laugh that she was trying to hold in. Gary didn't meet her eye, ignoring her statement, and remained looking up from the ground at the sky.
"How about you?" He asked softly, as though reverent of their newly defined friendship. "Holding up okay?"
Dawn let out a short huff of a breath.
"Usually when I hit a wall," she began tersely, "May is the first one I call. The first time I met her, she really managed to snap me out of this bad contest funk I was in during my first season, and she really taught me how to bounce back from things when they aren't going my way. So now it's like a reflex to just, lean on her a little when I'm struggling to see what next step to take."
"And now we don't know what to do next?" Gary prompted. Dawn nodded, her neck stiff.
"I just hope she's okay, wherever she is." She pursed her lips, trying not to admit how angry she was. "I hate her for leaving like she did."
"She's got her reasons," Gary tried to intercede, but reluctantly. "I don't know. It surprised me too."
"I wasn't surprised," Dawn corrected. "I'm frustrated though." Her frank admission swam between them uncomfortably. "Ash is too. We're the same like that. Without something practical to focus on, to inject that energy into, to make progress with… it eats at us when things are wrong." Gary gave her a long, watching stare, and he nodded stiffly.
"Practical," he echoed quietly. "And here we are, chasing myths."
Samiya
Neither had bothered to sleep.
How could they have, with so much to uncover? Once the promise of exploration had been made, May emerged from the water dripping wet and beaming, her bare, patchwork arms quivering in the cold summer night. Paul had gathered their things from Wailord and stacked them onto his back, left only with her biking jacket draped over his forearm while May gripped his other, tugging him into the temple with endless enthusiasm. Loyally, he followed, listening as she narrated to him what she remembered from her visit here years before, of the way the water ran in streams next to tiled floors and great pillars holding the ceilings high above. There were draping walls and fluid blue adornments at every turn, and as May led them deeper, Manaphy guided them further. He would jump from slipstreams that framed their path, twisting in the air as he flew between them with speed and grace.
Breathlessly, he followed, his mouth consistently just a little bit agape. He'd pulled out his notebook to make records of what he saw, but found his last page full of that troubling riddle from the Sevii Islands. He had no camera, no method of recording what they saw here, and when he asked May to photograph it she withdrew and became reluctant, so he did not ask a second time. Instead, he tried to content himself with absorbing what he could through sight and touch alone.
Around every corner, they found a new shine, a new chapel, a new monument or artefact dedicated to the worship and study of the ocean. The church-like structures were built with a silvery white stone that glowed from light that seemed impossible, sourcelessly filling each room with an ethereal glow. Altars of grey rock that dribbled with fountains and waterfalls greeted them at every turn. Tapestries woven, seemingly by hand, depicted the ancient history of this place, of the People of the Water and the tribesmen and women who resided here, making this place their home. They uncovered gardens, greenhouses overflowing with plants and life, and water pokemon comfortable out on land residing within them, sharing fruits and swapping laughs in their sacred community. The bag on Paul's back grew heavier with each turn, the presence of the red orb there becoming more and more noticeable as May's hand kept tight around forearm, dragging him from one room to the next.
When they finally exhausted, the adrenaline running thin and the morning long high in the sky, they collapsed together in a room that must have once been a residence, with wooden frames carrying soft pillows and blankets that caught them as they fell backward together, dizzy with adrenaline and sleep deprivation.
"I need to start carrying a second notebook," Paul lamented quietly, taking his full one out from the inside of his jacket and flipping through it disinterestedly. May gave him a soft, but watchful, stare.
"I'm glad you don't," May told him gently, her eyes heavy. "This is something we don't have to show the world." Paul turned to her, his temple throbbing with a lack of sleep, and allowed the bright blue of her eyes to bore into his. "This gets to be ours, a little bit of history, of something ancient and sacred…. Something that we just got to experience." She rolled her head away, flustered by the intensity of the look he gave her, and she gave herself permission to smile shyly. "I always do this thing where, I… go on expeditions, and I explore places and I hold my hands up like this," she demonstrated with lazy limbs, holding her arms up and making a square between her fingers and thumbs, "and I pretend I'm showing an audience my adventures. But this time, for this one…" her eyes glistened, "this is our expedition. Ours and ours alone. The rest of the world can have everything else, but Samiya?" Her hands flopped back against her sides and she let out a long, slow breath. "It's something I hope the world never discovers."
"You talk so much," Paul told her, a complaint clearly present in the tone of his voice, low and almost frustrated. "That's one too many sentimental monologues for now.."
"I suppose that's fair." May yawned, too tired to argue. "It's your turn tomorrow though."
"Hm?" Paul used the last of his energy to look at her imploringly, and she gave him an oddly reassuring, bolstering nod.
"Right, my request." Her voice was hushed with sleep but vibrant with anticipation. "I was going to ask you about how you got your scars."
Horrified, Paul's eyes flared open, painfully awake. May was already drifting, her eyes rolling closed as she shuffled closer to him, inhaling him as she slept.