Epilogue

November watched as her grandfather sat by the fireplace. Steel clanging onto the stone, sweat dripping onto his tools, and his whole face creased in pain. Her own face was flushed red from the fire that squirmed from its place beneath the bricks, sparks flying across her face.

Finally, he was done.

With his large gloves, he spread all seventeen plates onto the table, along with Nova's steel plate. Each one was small and rectangular – carved shards that had come from the tomb Arceus had made in the Distortion World. Each had its own colour and, upon Nova's instruction, Rowan had carved a few words onto each one.

Nova picked up the grey one, the Normal One, she had joked – there was no magic shimmering on the edges of it.

Still, she placed it into her grandfather's hands gently.

The man who had once been king. The one who had been proud to call her his granddaughter.

"This one belongs to you."

And on it, the words were engraved:

To all the heroes…

Cynthia was waiting on a boat, her long hair like wisps of gold soaring in the wind. It was only a small ship, with not a single sailor there to help her heave up the masts and roll up the anchor. Still, she former queen stood on the deck, waving her farewells to those who had come to depart her.

"Wait!"

Nova flew through the crowd, waving her hands around. Then, as the sea of people parted for her – nobles and townsfolk and peasants alike – Cynthia smiled. Lowered her hands to help haul the girl onto the deck.

The girl dusted her tunic – dark and silky, threaded with silver. Then, she faced the former queen, who was in nothing but a big white blouse and pants.

November held out a plate in her hand. The Earth Plate.

"Good luck," she told Cynthia.

Cynthia snorted. "I won't need it."

"I know you won't. I was wishing good luck to the seas and land you travel to."

Then, with a last embrace, she passed the plate onto Cynthia. And, on it, the plate said:

Who seek to change their fates…

At Sunnyshore, Volkner was the one to cut the ribbon to the new lighthouse.

It was a gift for many; for the sailors, for his sister, who sought light to guide her ship towards the east of Sinnoh and into new unchartered realms of the world, and also for a little brother who had been a beaming ball of brightness in a region of grit and pain.

Nova held the blade with him, and together, they pressed the sword into the pink ribbon.

The townsfolk of Sunnyshore clapped softly. Sailors across the seas hooted and cried out.

Meanwhile, Nova squeezed Volkner's hand. Pressed a yellow slab of stone – the Zap Plate – into his fingers.

Then, they stood in silence, his gaze staring hard at the words on it.

If you want to save the light…

Then, Nova was alone.

In Wayward Cave, where the Distortion World had once drawn her in.

Where her father waited somewhere.

Never aging. Never growing. Never forgetting.

For hours, she stared down at the ground, where her own dried blood stained the stone.

Then, moving to the very edge, where she last remembered the Distortion World opening before her like a slit of purple, she placed the Mind Plate.

She couldn't read the words. She knew he may never see them.

But she felt a curl of contentment just knowing it was there for him, anyways.

You must listen to these plates…

In the Lost Tower, there rested a grave at the top, amongst all the old kings and queens. The carving on it was her own – completely atrocious, with straight lines jotting in strange angles – and a single gracidea lay on it.

Bebe.

A Crobat remained atop it, watching November as she placed the Toxic Plate upon the grave.

You will love…

In Veilstone, in the centre of the large arena, November had dug a hole.

They had buried Maylene in the Lost Tower, close to Bebe, but she knew that's not where Maylene's heart and soul rested.

The young girl's spirit remained in Veilstone, in the centre of a bloody colosseum, where bones and blood and fractured scraps of steel lay across the ground.

Nova clawed at the hole with her hands, spreading the dirt out so there was enough space.

Then, she placed the Fist Plate in the hole. Plastered the dirt back over it, covering it and patting it down.

You will lose…

"This seems a bit grand, doesn't it?"

Nova smiled at Joy. "I think it's perfect."

There, before them in Floaroma, was a giant white stone building. The top had been painted red, with a symbol of one of those Pokéballs painted over the door. There were already people lined up, their bruised and bleeding Pokémon leaning over their shoulders or cradled in their hands.

"My own healing chambers," Joy breathed out.

"For the best in Sinnoh."

"I'm not the—"

Nova scowled. "Finish that sentence, and you'll be the one needing the healing."

The healer raised her hands in surrender. Then, closing her eyes, a single tear slipping down, she held the queen's hand.

"Thank you, November. I'm so glad I met you."

Nova felt her heart ache at that.

If they had never met, what would Joy's life had been?

What would Bebe's life have been?

Nonetheless, she sighed, breathing it all out. Her eyes landed on the glowing pink Pixie Plate that lay in the centre of the chambers, pressed into the wall and encased in glass.

You will heal…

Some wondered where Legionary Gardenia had gone after November had become the queen.

A few had sought her – young children who had once looked up for her, travelling across Sinnoh, from Snowpoint to Oreburgh to Sunnyshore and even Twinleaf.

The truth was, she had returned to Eterna Forest. Where the earth had finally found her roots, grasping over her ankles, and stretching bark across her body.

Nova had watched it all.

The way Gardenia's face had vanished between a thick layer of bark, with only a pert nose remaining, along with deep hollowed pits where her eyes had once been. Her hair had blossomed into a bramble of leaves and branches, tangling amongst the other trees, and leaning into all the other Song Sisters who had turned to trees.

Nova bowed for a long time. Then, she placed the Meadow Plate into the roots.

You will bruise…

They had made a temple to hold the Regigigas in Snowpoint.

"You don't think it'll ever… thaw?" Candice asked, poking the stone statue that was the legendary creature. "Come alive and stomp on everyone because it is still pissed off at you?"

Nova only shrugged. "Let's hope I'm dead by then."

"Then it'll kill everyone while looking for you."

"True."

Candice winced. "You don't seem to have… any strong reservations about that."

"Do you have any other ideas?"

"Toss it at the bottom of the ocean?"

Nova glanced at the stone statue. Frowned. "Can you lift it?"

They both tried pushing at the stone – even calling out Candice's Abomasnow and Nova's Garchomp to shove at it.

It wouldn't budge, though.

By the end, Candice leaned against the Regigigas, panting.

"On second thought…"

Nova laughed. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she tossed a stone slab into the legionary's lap. The Icicle Plate.

The legionary read the words upon it. Gave a small, brief smile.

You will laugh…

"You're teaching your daughter how to use a sword… before she can even crawl?" Nova asked slowly.

Wake waved the sword in front of his baby's face – not even a wooden one. A real one, sharp and slick, steel and thin. Even his daughter had a breadknife curled in her small, weak fingers.

"It'll prepare her," Wake insisted. "For when she takes your throne."

"Right."

His knife gently touched the little breadknife. Wake launched himself backwards, pretending to lurch, clutching his heart.

"Oh, she got me! That parry! Superb!"

The little baby giggled. Nova just stared.

Then, she took the knife from the little girl named August and placed the Splash Plate onto her skirt.

You will cry…

In the deep fissure in Oreburgh, where her journey had sort of started, Nova sat with all her Pokémon – the six she had taken with her to the castle, the blind Onix, and all those who had waited patiently for her to complete her adventure.

Before them all, she dug another hole for another plate. The Stone Plate.

For where it didn't quite truly begin. But where something fell into place.

But you must try and try and try…

Then, she moved to the place where it truly did begin: a staircase.

Though the ballroom had been done over, with new tiles and new golden railings spiralling up the edges, Nova felt the same clench in her gut as she stood there. A strange shiver that crawled down her spine.

Fantina stood beside her, eyes closed. The Spooky Plate locked in her arms.

And always remember…

Vernia was dancing again.

It was different, of course – she relied entirely on Riley's Alakazam to help her drift through the air. But Joy was helping her, too, saying that there were actually ways they could slowly mend some of the muscle or bone. Not enough for her to walk, but enough to lessen the pain a bit, and maybe even slowly regain some mobility.

Nova watched her mother twirl across the sands. Long hair chasing behind her, and arms swiftly waving around, sliding and curling.

It was beautiful.

The sands rose to meet her skirt. The shadows seemed to bend in strange, ethereal ways.

And the Sky Plate in the woman's hands shone like a diamond against the sky.

To dance with the winds…

"Here it is."

"…finally…"

"A whole fucking island."

"…i've been very patient…"

"You've been insufferable."

November and her shadow stood on New Moon Island.

The only piece of fucking land she could find that seemed to have no people or Pokémon. Just some dark, thinning trees, an angry ocean lapping onto stones, and a field of wilting flowers.

"All yours."

"…shall i charge you for stepping on my property…"

"I'll take it back."

"…but it's mine…"

Nova just pointed at the crown on her head. The shadow made a small snicker.

Then, she bent down and placed the darkest of all plates, the Dread Plate, upon the ground.

And trust your shadow…

Nova was already regretting her decision to entrust one of the plates with Azelf, Mespirit, and Uxie.

They were clawing at the Insect Plate, small stubby hands clasping onto it and tearing it from one another.

So, after watching it jump back and forth between each one, she just backed away and let them be.

For the next few weeks, she tried to ignore all the screams that suspiciously came from the lakefronts. Especially when she noticed that, wherever the shrieks came from, the plate just happened to be in the hands of that spirit guarding the lake.

For only three things will defeat your foe…

November and Riley's wedding was supposed to be small.

But, of course, things were left to Wake and Lady Spiral to plan.

Nobles from other regions had sent their gifts. Cynthia had returned from her travels just to watch. From the corner of her eyes, as Nova wrapped her arm around Duke Rowan's and marched down the aisle, she caught sight of Mars, Saturn and Jupiter.

Her dress was laced with gold, the bottom already slightly burnt from her Infernape who trailed behind her and tried to hold up the long skirt. Her whole face was damp – not from her own tears, but from the tears of her Gastrodon, who had sobbed like a newborn babe in her arms just after they had finished dressing. There was a tear on the sleeve from when her Garchomp had tried to hug her, but had accidentally slashed at the fabric.

And, of course, her hair was a mess, from when her Staraptor had accidentally landed on it before she had walked to her groom.

Only her Luxray and Roserade were keeping it together. Leila was tossing flowers in front of her, leaving a trail of roses for her to follow. Meanwhile, Rhys simply stood beside Riley, standing straight and still, a careful eye on his gladiator.

Riley had turned to face her when she reached the altar. His mouth opened to say something – and Nova waited. For the compliment. For the wow, you look beautiful. Even a few tears down his face.

Instead, his brow furrowed. "What happened to you?"

Nova leaned forwards and stepped hard on his foot.

"Ouc—Arceus, November, that hurt."

Muffled laughter rang out from around them. It made it easier, even – to feel that tension slip away from her shoulders as Riley suddenly yanked her towards him and pressed his mouth against hers. Both of them smiling the whole time.

They exchanged rings, as well as plates.

She had gifted him her Iron Plate.

A will of steel…

He gave her the plate Rowan had gifted him. The Draco Plate.

A heart of gold…

And that evening, the two of them had strolled up to Spear Pillar.

Where they had buried their best friend – a young gladiator, the brightest of them all.

Then, Nova placed the final plate. The Flame Plate.

And a mind both young and old…

There it is, dearest readers and writers, masters and squires, friends and foes.

The story of November, the gladiator who had clawed her way from wastes to wonder. The true tale of it all – the despair and sorrow, the soaring dances of hope and love.

For those who are reading this to examine the past of Sinnoh, or even for a tale to send your mind whirling into a land of sand and blood, this story closes here. It is time to go back to The Hungry Little Wurmple, or even the riveting tale of Spininark's Web.

For those who are lost, though, or those who feel like their light is burning thin – here is November's final ode to you.

To all the heroes

Who seek to change their fates,

If you want to save the light,

You must listen to these plates.

You will love,

You will lose,

You will heal,

You will bruise,

You will laugh,

You will cry,

But you must try and try and try.

And always remember

To dance with the winds

And trust your shadow,

For only three things will defeat your foe.

A will of steel.

A heart of gold.

And a mind both young and old.

Oh, and of course, there must be one last mystery you are wondering.

Who am I, your generous narrator?

It's certainly not November who wrote this story – the poor lass couldn't write, even years after becoming a queen. Riley certainly may have tried, but it wouldn't have been quite right; it would have been far too soppy. Joy? Far too busy pressing bandages and ointments into bleeding Bidoof.

So, who is it?

Well, I would tell you, dearest readers and writers.

"…but, surely, by now, it is obvious…"

THE END.

OFFICIALLY.

i'm not crying. my eyes are just sweating.

i have a few thank yous to make.

Delta - the love of my life. You inspire me in ways you don't even know. You reading this with all your glasses of chocolate milk and reactions always gives me so much joy and encouragement. My writing would be nothing without us practising writing our Twilight fanfiction.

Neko - I don't think you realise what an impact you've had on the later stages of this story. Your kind words gave me a huge kick up the ass to finish this, and I love you so much for that.

imaginair - I've said it once. I will say it again. I don't know how I got so lucky to have you stumble upon this story. You've been with me for the past two years, reviewing and theorising, and I seriously appreciate your kindness, your thoughtfulness, and your incredible detective skills. I am so grateful to have met you.

And finally:

Plegian Gengar.

The man who started this journey. The one who showed me a new world of people and friends. The one who reached out and reminded me of his own nuzlocke, inspired me to start my own, and has encouraged me all the time. It sounds ridiculous, since, well, this is a Pokémon fanfiction. But beyond that, every word I write feels heard and cared about by you, and this story would absolutely not exist without you. This story, which has taught me so much, just wouldn't have changed my life the way it did. So thank you, friend, for changing my life.

NOW.

WHAT NEXT?

I have decided that... yes. I'm going to do another nuzlocke story! I'm well underway in the game runthrough, so just be a bit patient! It'll be on its way relatively soon! This time... there is death. rip.

I will post an update here when the story is released! I'll also probably be doing some short little prompts based on TIK in this book [for example, I might write a short story about how Cynthia became queen!]. If there's anything you want to see, let me know!