Perhaps I wasn't sure what to expect when I woke up. I easily could've anticipated to not wake up in the first place, but the fact that my mind was still comprehensive effectively dismissed the notion of death. Opening my eyes to the familiar sight of a small room with a bed had generally been what this type of situation led to, so something along those lines would have made sense. On a more realistic note, my awakening actually should have been in that crevice, where I'd probably have spent my last moments crippled and afraid.

Instead, I woke to find myself still falling.

My eyes flew open. My immediate surroundings were nothing but the open sky. Looking straight up meant looking straight down, and meant registering how deathly-far away the ground was. Wind buffeted my face and blew my scarf partially over my eyes while I dangled helplessly, unable to control my movement. I was a cloud.

Groggily snapping to a fearsome reality, I felt that my tail was strapped to whatever was keeping me from falling toward certain death.

I hardly paid this odd circumstance any thought as I screamed as loud as I'd ever screamed. It was really the only thing to be done in that moment. Whatever bird Pokemon that had captured me shifted in surprise at the sound of the deafening wind unsuccessfully contesting my vocal cords, and I was able to get a good enough viewing angle to discover that it wasn't a bird at all.

"L-L-Leah?! What the hell is going on?!" I exclaimed when I caught sight of her wide-eyed expression hovering above me.

Her eyes remained locked forward for a moment even though she clearly heard my exclamation. She was clutching the bar that extended from what looked like a double-flapped glider. The treasure bag was flying in the wind and beating against her side, the cover secured tight to keep its contents from spilling across the valley below. She broke her view ahead to quickly shoot me a neutral glance before focusing back on keeping the vehicle steady.

"Okay... sooo you probably want to know how we ended up in this situation!" she yelled above the air beating against the glider. "To put it simply, I basically got us out of that hole and we ended up way up here! I-I'll explain the details of what happened when we land!"

My reasoning and logic escaped me for a moment as I tried to think of ways that this inconceivable reality could've come about, and I decided I'd start with the sudden appearance and application of the glider that my partner was currently trying to maneuver through the air. It only took a handful of seconds for that part, at least, to piece itself together in my mind.

"Wait a second... is this what was in Archen's bag?!" I demanded of my partner. "And—wait, why did you strap me in by the tail?!"

"We couldn't both fit any other way!" was how her muffled excuse sounded in the deafening wind. "—This thing was clearly designed for Archen and not us... but don't worry though, there's no way you'll fall!" She took a deep breath before continuing. "I didn't want to just leave us in the middle of a dangerous mountain range, so I let the winds pick us up in this thing! I guess it's a good thing that he left it behind, huh?"

I took one look at the ground below and exclaimed, "Are you insane?! We're gonna die!"

"We'll be fine!" she assured me above the sound of the wind. "I'm good at this!"

"No! No you're not!"

"Well it can't be that hard!" she vigorously reasoned, glancing down at me impatiently. "I bet Archen can do it just fine, so why can't I?"

"Maybe because he's a flying-type who has practice!" I yelled.

"A flying-type who can't even fly!" she objected. "Just have some faith, we aren't dead yet!"

The wind muffled the irritated groan that escaped my lips.

This is why I make the decisions!

There was no use arguing with her now, not when we were already stuck hurtling through the air. The only thing keeping us alive now was the air filtering under the glider's flaps, and by the looks of it, there was no place to immediately land that offered odds of survival. We were now entirely in the palms of nature.

What an awakening though! Leah had previously woken me up in ways I'd rather forget, like when she dropped a painfully spicy berry down my throat back in Serene Village or when she'd jabbed me in the eye with a twig (that one had been more of an accident). Some of them were memorable, and all of them had been in good fun, but sheesh! Without a doubt, however, this instance topped everything else by a mile, which might be how far we'd fall if this glider spontaneously fell apart.

She had saved us from one dilemma by creating a bigger one—while I was unconscious!

There was no telling if the indiscreet Fennekin who initiated this brilliantly ludicrous plan even could figure out how steer this thing, or if she even knew where we were going. She seemed to be maintaining a positive outlook with it, but how much would an untimely wind current respect that? Tangible reality always transcends intangible optimism. It's just that some individuals see them overlapping one another too often, and testify that they are synonymous.

I was still determined to make myself as comfortable as possible while dangling upside-down, regardless of the terror racing through me. I extended a vine so that I could grab the side of the pole that Leah was holding… but an intense spike of pain in that area declared that I would do no such thing. Remembering the claws that had torn into that shoulder just before falling into the crevice last night, I instead used the vine on my uninjured side to grip the bar and successfully hoist myself up to a more agreeable position. My lithe body possessed enough flexibility to coil my head above it so that my perspective of the world could flip right side up. I tied my vine around the lightweight metal into an agreeably loose knot so that I could relax without falling back to how I was before.

"Do you even know where we are?" I asked Leah, not needing to yell as loudly as before, my head on a level plane with hers.

"I'm pretty sure we're somewhere above the Air Continent," she joked, clearly enjoying this weightless experience more than me. I drilled holes into the side of her head with my impatient glare, and she just laughed. I could swear that she was having way too much fun with this.

"I'm messing with you!" she replied, turning her focus back to the front. "The village should—uh, should be somewhere ahead of us still."

I reached my hand into the bag strapped around her neck to pull out the Society gadget.

"What, you don't believe me?" she questioned.

I brought up the map and let it load for a moment. When I saw our location, I positioned it where she could see while being extra careful not to drop it.

"Look, we're right here and heading south!" I zoomed in a little more and pointed at a geographical marker that sat right on top of the arrow that indicated our current location.. "Leah... we're like right on top of it! We need to land!"

She looked like she was going to argue for a moment, but she stopped herself short when the contents of the screen registered. Even though we hadn't seen the village itself since our visibility of the ground wasn't all-inclusive, she still couldn't argue the map's display of the error in her estimation.

"Oops," she muttered almost too far under her breath for me to hear. "Yeah, we should probably land now. Good thing you woke in time to show me that. Now if I can just figure out how to..."

She went silent.

"Leah?"

"Um." The wind mostly overtook her mumbling. "I... well... I don't know how to land this thing."

Fear—legitimate fear—threatened to rip my heart out of my chest. Of course she didn't know how to land. Of course.

I let my head fall just under the horizontal bar so I could start scanning the ground ahead of us for a natural runway we could use. We were already well into the valley, and it would not be too long before the chaotic winds that allowed the glider to defy gravity would carry us all the way across to the other side. From there we would likely be doomed to either crash land into a mountain or fly even further to the ocean. I moved my eyes quickly, looking for any trace of a break in the trees or any hint of blue beneath the canopy.

We needed something wide open that we could use as an arbitrary runway. Wherever I looked, I couldn't find anything though, and I started to get nervous after a dozen unfruitful seconds passed. We just needed one stupid clearing, or...

...There! A lake roughly a third the size of the one back at Serene Village had been partially hidden by the trees, but revealed itself further as we got closer.

"We can land this thing there!" I suggested while jabbing a paw down in its direction.

Leah strained her head to see. "I—I see it, kinda. That tiny lake?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Ease the nose of the glider down a bit so that we can approach at a better angle. Just don't go too-"

Me failing to warn Leah about tipping us downward too quickly before telling her to approach the lake led to her completely losing control of the glider for a moment. The view ahead transitioned from the open blue sky to nothing but the jade and brown blanket of the ground below.

"Pull up!" I commanded as our speed increased towards the trees. The minute details of the leaves started to come into focus before even a second had passed, and we both screamed and panicked.

Leah let out a drawn-out yelp that vaguely resembled a battle cry as she perilously tried to angle the glider back up with all of her might. I really wasn't much help in the position I was in, although that probably could've been averted if I had been strapped in in a way that didn't leave me upside-down to begin with. That mostly left the piloting business up to Leah, while I was stuck providing information and advice that really wasn't getting through to her anyway.

Leah couldn't get the glider to stabilize if her life depended on it—which, at the time, seemed like it did—and the next few seconds consisted of flying too far down, and then too far up, and then too far down again. It was a cluster of useless overcompensations that formed a pattern of terror, and I felt like I was going to be sick the whole way down. It was a wonder that we were able to hit the lake at all.

Instead of landing towards the front like I'd hoped, we landed closer to the shallower back. The impact was skewed at an angle, and I was caught unprepared for the punch as the glider skipped hard against the water. It was like skipping stones, where we were the stone that had fallen from a monumentally large distance. The breath was ripped out of me as I was yanked down by the glider bouncing off the water, threatening to dislodge my grip entirely. The warm spray of water that followed crashed into me, and choked me for a moment before I could take in a gulp of air. We held on, hardly having any time to brace for the second skip across the water, this one a bit less violent but still packing incredible force.

The skipping brought us straight to the lakeside without mercy. Although our linear momentum had been all but cut to a tenth of our initial descent, tumbling across gravel and sand was far worse than skipping across the water. The transition from the evasive surface of water to the concrete grit of solid sandstone did not go unnoticed by my already-aching everything. I abandoned ship then, not that I really had a choice to hang on anyways, and tumbled across the small opening and right into a tree as the last of my momentum sputtered out.

The glider was not designed for such impacts, the sound of snapping strings and bending metal proclaiming the fragility that embodied aerodynamics but compromised longevity. Somewhere in the back of my dazed mind I felt the urge to check if the damage was as bad as it sounded, but I knew that ensuring Leah had escaped without major injury claimed priority.

After only a few seconds of motionless silence, I mustered the strength to let out a pained grunt and sit up, using the tree I had slammed into as much-needed leverage. I was on my feet a few seconds later, and I nearly fell right back down again when I let go of the tree. My legs were wobbly and tingly, and my sense of balance was on hiatus. I had also been winded by the collision, meaning my voice came out raspy and almost unrecognizable. When I first called out, I could hardly even hear myself.

I scanned the area and caught sight of her lying belly-up a few feet from the edge of the water. The only body language she advertised was the rapid rise and fall of her soaked chest, and I immediately feared the worst. I worried with a heavy heart that she had broken something important and that the whole campaign was shot. But hell, this entire visit to the Air Continent was already turning into a gigantic disaster anyway, so the integrity of the mission hardly mattered to me at this point.

I stumbled in her direction, nearly losing last night's dinner to a wave of nausea that threatened to send me right back into the dirty sand. I made my way over to her side and kneeled down. She still didn't move.

"Leah? A-are you hurt?" I coughed.

Her eyes stared blankly at the sky. She blinked once, and then closed her eyes and kept them that way. I tried to reach a hand out and see if I could ease any pain she might be experiencing, but she evidently felt that there was no need. She jabbed both of her front paws up into the air, and let out a victory screech.

"Wooo!" the soaking wet Fennekin proclaimed to the world, causing me to backpedal slightly in surprise. Her eyes shot open, and she looked at me and smiled from cheek to cheek. "That... was... awesome! We gotta do that again!"

I grunted as I pulled her up to a standing position. Even though she was quadrupedal, she still nearly fell over as her legs needed to adjust to supporting her weight on solid ground.

"You said we were gonna die," she prodded, turning to me and shooting me an 'I told you so' grin. She looked ridiculous trying to smile like that when her fur was soaked and everywhere. I might've smiled back if the circumstances weren't as they were.

"Do you mind telling me what the hell you were thinking?"

"What?" She tilted her head in slight confusion a bit a slightly narrowed her eyes. After a brief moment passed, she glanced behind me at whatever the remains of the glider looked like and raised her eyebrows to challenge. "You mean using Archen's glider?"

"Yes," I hissed. "Your plan to fly hundreds of feet above the ground with a contraption that neither of us had ever seen in use. Your decision to just hop off the top of a mountain and glide along the clouds like in a fantasy land, all while I was unconscious."

"Hey!" she interjected, her excitement already being overshadowed by a newfound agitation. "If you hadn't tried some stupid idea of your own that got yourself knocked out, I wouldn't have had to! A-And look!" She gestured to our surroundings. "We landed here and we're fine! If the map is correct then our destination isn't very far from here, so I really don't see a problem."

"We got lucky!" I snapped. "You had no idea what the hell you were doing on that thing, and don't deny it! Why didn't you at least wait until I woke up to propose the idea to me instead of having me wake up in the damn clouds!"

"Because you'd have said no!"

I facepalmed. "Did you ever stop to think about exactly why I might've said no to an idea like that?"

"Oh, come on now," she scowled. "There was no nursery office to put you in, no village nearby where you could rest the day away. I had to take matters into my own paws, and when all was said and done, things worked out. End of story."

"Have you lost your mind? You're not even considering the repercussions!" I retaliated, glancing back at the glider's corpse for the first time. It was damaged as bad as its last moments had sounded, the flexible metal bent at extravagant angles and the carefully-designed flaps torn in a number of places. It formed an unrecognizable heap of junk that wasn't even worth bringing back with us. I angrily jabbed my arm in its direction. "Look!"

For a moment, regret flashed through her eyes. But it did not last. "I… look, we needed it to survive. Our lives are worth more than some piece of metal!"

"Archen is gonna be—"

"Last I checked, Archen isn't here!" she barked over me, lashing her tail furiously. "Ampharos wanted us out here, not him. And here we are at the doorstep of our destination a lot quicker than we expected, and yet you're complaining!"

"Are you kidding me?" I seethed. "You always do this, you know!"

"Always do what?"

"You always rush ahead without a care in the world! When it works out, you play it off like it was the right decision solely because of the result. But even when it doesn't, you still claim you were on the right track instead of listening to me! We honestly could've died just now! Do you really think so little of my advice that you'd rather risk both of our lives to accomplish anything? Do you ever stop to think before you act?"

"If I'd waited for you to wake up and make the decision, we'd still be walking by the time the sun went down!" She just shook her head for a moment before continuing. "Sorry, but you're not giving me any light here by blowing up over nothing. I'm not going to pretend like my way of doing things is always right, and I'm sorry for scaring you, but I think it was worth it. It… isn't worth getting upset over."

I exhaled through my nose, realizing that anything I said would either turn out hypocritical or would just be ignored outright. This argument was going nowhere, and clearly Leah wasn't going to budge as long as her ridiculous ideas didn't get us killed. And if one day one of them finally did get us killed, arguing about it wouldn't be of anyone's concern.

I whirled around and began heading down the side of the lake. "Let's just go before we waste all of our time. I'm not interested in discussing this right now."

I started walking down the beach at my own pace. Leah followed a few feet behind me without a word, and we hiked the short distance through the pines that led to where the village was supposed to be.

After about ten minutes of gradually dodging trees had passed, my outward appearance had calmed. I was still inwardly red hot with rage and perplexity, but the tension had reached a marginal degree of composure that allowed the two of us to tread onwards without letting the disagreement spill over into the silent woods. Conditioned chemistry between us allowed for our differences to hibernate when our priorities claimed dominion.

This was beneficial to me, because even though I wasn't really in the mood to talk to anyone at the moment, I did have a question I needed answered.

"So," I said while keeping my eyes forward. "How exactly did you get us out of that crevice?"

"Hm...? Oh," I heard her voice from behind, and she shifted her pace to fall in line at my side. I glanced at her with my peripherals, and saw her awkwardly trying to walk forward on three legs while jabbing one of her paws into the fluff of her tail. She stopped to complete whatever it was she was doing, and I stopped as well, staring at her in bewilderment as she stiffly pulled out a stick that had been hidden in her tail. The fact that she was still soaking wet only added to the image's incongruity.

"What is it with you and your sticks?"

"It's not just any stick," she pointed out, presenting the item to me. "It's a warp wand. You remember how wands work, right?"

Infrequent recollections of trying to use wands were drawn to light right away. I hadn't ever been keen to use them, since they would always run out of uses when I needed them the most, and also since I had a horrible tendency to hold them the wrong way. After blasting myself instead of the intended target on plural occasions, always leading to a fit of laughter from behind me, I had simply stopped picking them up whenever I'd run across one in a dungeon. Leah had never had a problem with them, however, and would pick them up every now and then to use as she pleased. For a moment I wondered how many times I had thought she had disposed of a wand she had previously picked up, when they were actually stored away in the mass of her tail fur for future utilization. Even though I always manned the point whenever we were exploring as a duo, I still couldn't believe I'd never noticed she could do that. It was another weird Fennekin thing she did that I would probably find myself teasing her for in the distant future, but only if I could pray to find a time that she didn't act so aggravatingly foolhardy.

I nodded slowly at her question, but my own question still hadn't been answered. "So... what did you do with it?"

"Well what do you think?" Leah crowed. "I tried to grab your hand when you fell, and then I fell too, but then I zapped you and then myself with the wand before we could die. I got warped right to the surface and you got warped a little ways away. I'm guessing you got knocked unconscious because the teleportation didn't cancel out your downward descent."

"How...?" I began.

She just shrugged and said: "I always keep a wand handy in case I need it."

Wow. So Leah had apparently pulled a dues ex-machina once again. Why was I not surprised? This time I didn't even get to see it when it happened, but at this point it wasn't hard to believe. Who was I to question her skill in the clutch, when she'd pulled more tricks out of her fur - in this case her tail - than I could count? Even though she wasn't necessarily the best decision-maker, she knew how to facilitate a situation when things got dicey. I didn't even bother asking how she maintained enough focus to aim that wand at a falling target, while also falling herself, all when it was dark out. All I would get in response is her quadrupedal version of a shrug, likely followed by a verbal reply that would bounce the question off as consisting of nothing more than insignificant details.

"So that means I still took a pretty bad fall?" I reasoned with her comment about the wand not cancelling my momentum despite moving me to a different location. I certainly wouldn't have doubted the conjecture in that moment; I hadn't been feeling very physically-capable ever since waking up suspended upside-down in the sky. Now that I was walking on my own two legs, the soreness and mild injury from last night was painfully tangible. My shoulder hurt like hell where it had been clawed at, and just about everything else had some level of discomfort associated with it. If there wasn't a reason to keep moving, I'd have no qualms with climbing the nearest tree and curling up for a nap on an affordable branch.

"Yeah, there wasn't much I could do about that since you were already falling for a few seconds." Leah said. "But it could've been worse."

Yeah. I'd be dead if you missed.

I thought for a moment and asked, "You didn't save that Ursurang too, did you?"

She glanced at me with her nose up and her eyes narrowed and exclaimed, "Hell no!"

"Hm. Good," I replied. I felt compelled to smile, and did, although I didn't let her see it.

The conversation ended there, neither of us finding reason to stand around and waste any more time. The pit in my stomach was emptied from exhaustion and fading animosity, but we were so close now that worrying about diminutive discomforts was below my state of mind. Present turmoil between the pair of us rubbed off to be disturbed in the future, distantly echoing off of each tree we passed.

Right away, we were recognized by the village for our badges as well as our foreign species.

We were greeted as borderline saviors from another realm, and then happily welcomed into a society of sub-fifty Pokemon nestled on a river running between two mountains. Both parties understood well that it was a temporary arrangement, but I still relished in how cordial it all was in comparison to the village on the prairie. The chief, a burly middle-aged Hawlucha, labeled us as a "gift from the great Arceus himself" and demanded that a miniature feast be prepared right away, even though it was only about noon.

Following the satisfaction of our bellies, Leah and I were shepherded to their version of a medical facility. The place was really just another cubic shack that was an exterior copy of most of the other shacks in the settlement, and the inside wasn't much richer to boot. I caught sight and scent of a few medical remedies and herbs that were vividly familiar, but I could tell that these Pokemon weren't swimming in supplies to any stretch of the imagination. This was the kind of thing the continent's officials needed to provide their resident Pokemon, no matter how far out they lived. Instead, Team Prism was here to pick up the slack.

The village doctor, a level-headed Bayleef, worked hard and worked alone. She first touched up Leah, helping her dry off without looking like as big of a fluff ball as she would've otherwise, and then dismissing her. While Leah was off making her acquaintance with the rest of the village, the doctor shifted her attention to me. She grimaced when she saw the remains of my severed right vine, which was now positively half the length of my left. I remembered wincing as the raw flesh that had been torn into caressed the vine's inner-sheath, the cells still working to scab the wound. There had been no hiding the solemn background in my eyes as I stared the ripped tendril. I was still able to move it with ease, but what good would that be if its purpose had been stunted?

Fortunately for me, she estimated that it would only take a couple of weeks to grow back if I didn't try to use it and just let the plant tissue regenerate itself through proper hydration and photosynthesis. For good measure she gave me a therapy treatment of her heal pulse, which numbed the soreness and felt positively amazing. Considering I wasn't even aware that vines could grow back at all, and that I had totally forgotten that it had gotten severed with the distraction of waking up in the sky, I was satisfied. I would need to rely on my improving special attack to defend myself, and rely on my hands and remaining intact vine to do just about everything else, but that probably wouldn't be a huge issue as long as it was a temporary thing.

Once the welcoming dramatics died down, Leah and I typically found ourselves away from the settlement entirely, which was blandly referred to as "Riverville" by the small handful of inhabitants who bothered to care about a name. We had to make frequent trips back every now and then to sleep and resupply, but a day's lounging simply could not be afforded. Archen had been right; they had a lot of work to be done that exceeded the discharge of their available personnel.

One particular issue was fire. Three quarters of the residents consisted of either fighting-types or grass-types, and they didn't have a single fire-type at their disposal. Considering how off the grid this place was, the sudden arrival of one was monumental to them even though they didn't specifically request for it. Leah was asked left and right to light lamps and start big bonfires, sometimes even in the middle of the day just because the villagers liked it so much. She maintained her outward patience through it all, but I could tell she was growing restless with the attention and demand her fire was getting. Some of the villagers were so fascinated by her techniques of combustion that she was asked more than once if she could teach them how to breathe fire as well, even though I was fairly certain none of them were capable of acquiring such an ability without a technical machine. Most of those who asked her were kids, but some of them weren't, so she had her paws full.

I remembered how Serene Village had been surrounded by mystery dungeons from all angles, the spatial anomalies dotting the valley and serving as Team Prism's playground. But those dungeons had been uncomplicated and insubstantial in nature, and thus posed no real danger to Serene Village's lively children and stoic farmers. Out here, partially or fully-evolved Pokemon were more common as opposed to the exclusively-primary stages that were found back near the civilized areas of the Water Continent, who would fall to flames and leaves without significant resistance. The wild Pokemon out here held advantageous authority over the civilized, and the ones that leaked out of their dungeon habitats were prone to intrude far too close to the village than what most felt was safe.

Besides protection, the main purpose we came all this way was because the residents of unofficially-named Riverville wanted a map of the surrounding area for themselves. Leah and I had little experience with mapmaking besides some basic mumbo-jumbo that Archen had mumbled off to us, which had really just been intended to maintain conversation on Lapras's shell rather than educate for this kind of mission. I don't think Leah had picked up any of it at the time anyway since she had been too busy holding her breakfast down.

While I was at it, I went ahead and recorded the landmarks and landmasses I found on the Nexus, so that we wouldn't have to come back here ever. It piqued my interest that the Pokemon out here hadn't charted this land already, but I understood better once I learned of the obstacles involved with developing an innate cognition with this particular environment.

First of all, no flying-types were present in the village besides their flightless chief, so the excessive difficulties they faced with exchanging information as well as safely traveling long distances were justified. Dealing with this distance issue, along with the territorial problems with the ferals, was where Leah and I became the main benefactors.

Secondly, the land became no less dangerous than before, even though we were typically dealing with lower altitudes now. There still was little vegetation that could actually be utilized on a whim, and in many areas there was nothing but rock and dust that was continually cooked by the summer heat. These ambient features were all highlighted by the singular massive canyon that ripped through the middle of most of the range, cutting down into the capillaries of the world's crust. In some areas it was as wide as the valley itself, and as deep as any crevice in the area. Climbing to the bottom would be precarious, that was for certain.

Not that I was too keen to try, injured vine or not. I'd had enough of heights on this continent.

The first twelve days consisted of little more than walking, fighting wilds, and exploring and mapping the surrounding crags and mountains. More often than not due to the urgency and time frame of certain tasks, Leah and I had to split up and work separately. Some of the more capable Pokemon around would tag along every now and then to avoid situations where someone had to go out alone, but it still happened plenty of times due to specific circumstances calling for it on numerous occasions.

It certainly didn't take long for me to realize why this area needed help from the authorities of exploration and rescue on this damned continent. Part of me even desired compensation, not from the villagers but from the Air Continent officials, for making us travel this far away just to assist those under the jurisdiction of lazy deadbeats. I was also keenly aware, however, that it wasn't ideal for anyone to be living out here in the first place since much more habitable civilization was only a day or two's hike away, albeit a dangerous one. I really found it hard to relate with either side on the matter, so I just kept my mouth shut and remained disciplined. Alas: these kinds of thoughts were resigned to float around in my subconscious during the long days of walking, climbing, and charting.

All I wanted was to get through with this job and get back to my soft bed at the Society, where I could let my idle mind worry about why I turned into a Snivy instead of being out here wading through this crap. Sure, the Pokemon of Riverville were really nice, and the hospitality they provided held surprising quality considering how barren most of the surrounding land had shown to be. More than one of the grass-type females even tried to hit on me whenever they could catch me alone, flirtatiously raising their eyebrows and occasionally even making brash implications that would take us back to one of their tents. I deciphered it was all a product of boredom and untapped curiosity since they obviously never had any visitors (or maybe I was just that attractive - ha!). I naturally had no time for such entertainment and declined every time, but I would be lying to say I wasn't amused.

Regardless of minimal distraction, life was simple: wake, eat, work, eat, sleep, repeat. It looked like that was how the two week tenure would play out. And it almost did.

But around noon of day thirteen, that changed.

Leah and I had been split up the past two days to maximize the distance we covered, trying to put the finishing touches on the map of the valley so that we could have the last day freed up for other things. Even on the days we worked together, we didn't talk much beyond what basic communication was necessary for efficiency and survival, possibly a faint reminiscence of the heated disagreement upon our arrival. Most of it was credited to mental fatigue as well, but it really wasn't serving me much good regardless of where the blame sat, and I was really beginning to grow tired of the lack of communication. I worried she would make a rash decision without me being there to talk her out of it. I wouldn't really get the chance to stop and talk with her right away, however, because of the weight of the report we received.

The day started off with no immediate differences from any other day out here. I woke up, stretched and adjusted my scarf, ate a quick breakfast to provide me some energy for the long walk ahead. I gathered the makeshift cartography materials that I had thrown together for myself with some of Riverville's unused raw assets, and headed out to finally finish the illustration that Hawlucha wanted.

I pushed aside the tent flap to find that Leah was out conversing with some kids from the village, and I shook my head in disapproval. She was supposed to be out sketching and exploring already since she was a bit behind on her designated area. I had planned to walk over and let her know about it when a claw tapping on my shoulder stopped me short.

It was Hawlucha, with a solemn expression on his face. This guy had shown to be calm and apathetic when a situation was bad and optimistic at every other time, so I could tell right away that something exceptional must be amiss.

"Good morning to you, wise Sage," the brawny chief saluted. "I trust you were planning to map of the ridge over by the eastern mountains today?"

I nodded absently, focusing my attention away from my sidetracked partner. "Yeah. That's all that's left besides the hills to the southwest. Leah's gonna take care of that," I said. Hawlucha's posture was domesticated but the uneasiness in his eyes made it meaningless, so I went ahead and questioned him. "...Is something wrong?"

"You could say that," he confirmed with his eastern accent. "I was out fixing this damned leak in my roof when I looked over and saw a meteor falling into the valley. It was giant, at least several times my size! What's worse, it fell right around where the Great Canyon opens up."

Interests raised and zombie-morning attitude dropped, I opened my eyes a bit wider and stared curiously. "A meteor? Is this common?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. Small space rocks have shown a tendency to fall and be scattered around the canyon from years past, but nothing like this."

"Then how do you know it was a meteor?" I asked.

Before he could answer, Leah's voice sounded off to my side, and I turned to see her strolling up.

"What's going on?" she asked, glancing between Hawlucha and I.

"A giant unidenfitifed flying object has crashed in a section of the Great Canyon that is near us. It was absolutely massive too!" Hawlucha answered her. "I was going to request the two of you check it out to see if Arceus isn't displeased with my village."

Leah tilted her head a little at his reasoning, but neither of us protested. We were here to serve, so serve we would.

Leah and I made our way in that direction right away, since we were already prepared to set out mapping anyway. I dumped the charts and pencils into the treasure bag and slung it around my shoulder, wincing slightly as the strap rubbed against the tender spot. My vine had been slowly growing day by day, but the entire thing ached incessantly and would still need a couple days before it could be used again. Although I found myself missing it all the time, it was usually involving low-maintenance tasks where convenience alone was compromised. Most of my time out here had been spent walking perpetually, like what I was doing at the moment, and hardly required using my upper body anyway.

The two of us talked little at first. The awkwardness from our little squabble had been grounded down into an afterthought following two weeks of working hard together and sometimes struggling when separated. Regardless, I was fatigued and ready to get back to the Water Continent, where I felt the coveted keys to my human origin still awaited me. Mawile would have a report on the evidence Archen brought back with him, and I would get to return to work in an environment that wasn't so undesirable. Leah looked like she was just about ready to be done with it too, and that was where our conversation started once we reached the first dip of the canyon.

"I know I said I wanted to make a map of the world," she began, breaking the silence between us. "—But this is hard. Harder than I thought it would be, to be honest."

"We're still new at this," I reassured. "I think Ampharos knew this wouldn't be easy for us. And I think this is his way of ensuring we're fit for this job."

Leah glanced at me sideways, being careful to place her paws correctly as the two of us made our way down a trail leading into the heart of the canyon. She tilted her head and asked, "What do you mean?"

"He's throwing us into the fire, and seeing how it molds us," I explained. It was something I had been thinking about for a while, and had come to terms with. "Think about it. We've been working out here for longer than we'd been at the Society before even leaving to come here. He clearly wants to know right off the bat if we can handle ourselves not just against hostile enemies, but against a hostile environment too. All while completing a specific task."

"That does make sense," she nodded once. "But why here? Couldn't he have picked somewhere a little less dangerous?"

I shrugged. "Would've been nice, yeah. Then again, it's not like anyone back at the Society likely knows this area well. There isn't really much here."

"…Well I'm just glad it's almost over," she said. "I'm looking forward to cartography missions that involve treasure and ruins and civilizations and trade routes. Anything beats all this stupid rock and dust." She picked up a pawful of pebbles and dust off of the ground and let it trickle through her outstretched paw as she said it, for the purpose of emphasizing her point.

I opened my mouth to respond, but something stopped me. Narrowing my eyes slightly, I slowed my pace and glanced down at the powdered rock that had settled on the ground, with a bit more following it as my partner dusted her paw off. I knelt down and felt it with my hand, getting some on it and raising it to my nose.

"What's up?" Leah inquired, also stopping.

"Two things," I said, glancing up at a cylindrical rock formation next to us. "One is what's up there."

Leah followed my gaze upward and locked onto a massive gash cutting into the structure. Although looking at it wasn't enough to stick an age to the obviously-unnatural occurrence, the fact that the granules of dust that settled underneath it hadn't already been picked up by the boundless wind currents confirmed it was recent. Something had smashed into it at an angle, and it really wasn't hard to assume what.

"Two is this," I held out my hand, which was still a bit dusty. I looked her in the eyes. "This dust isn't just made up of microscopic fragments of rock... These are ashes."

Even as I was the one to say the words, my heart still started to race. Leah took a half-step back and glanced up at the monumental rock that no longer resembled the rest of the cylindrical structures because of the new gouge in its side. We were both thinking the same thing. The idea had been lingering in my head ever since Hawlucha spelled out what he saw, and this easily confirmed it.

"The culprit could be here…" Leah began. "We could catch him!"

"Pipe down!" I hissed under my breath. "We need to think about this for a—"

Leah was already running in the direction of the crash. My heart plummeted.

"Leah!" I hissed as loud as I could without outright shouting. "Stop!"

She didn't stop.

Stumbling a bit off the jump, I accelerated around the corner after her. No thought was awarded to the dangers of the situation now that it had fallen apart without the danger even showing its face yet. And if it did, then Leah wouldn't have time to apologize. It really wouldn't matter much at that point anyway. I needed to hurry.

Glancing at various landmarks, including notable places where there was damage to the rocky ascensions, I used the evidence around me to know where I was supposed to be headed. I knew it couldn't be far...

After hopping over a stray boulder and swinging around a final corner of a different cylindrical uprising, I finally caught sight of Leah again. My heart leaped in relief when I saw she was standing upright and uninjured, but instantly fell when the structure that sat before her registered.

"Oh shit..."

There might have once been recognizable differences between the eon twins of legend, but those attributes had been reduced to nothing but a lifeless gray. Down to the smallest detail, the smallest hair; it was all just cruel nothingness. Even the eyes, which were both extended wide open in fear, refused to stare back. It was the opposite sensation I had stomached with the other one, and I wasn't really sure which was worse.

"It's Latias, isn't it?" I breathed. I couldn't raise my voice about a whisper; the very act of talking threatened to disrupt the rhythm of terror that ran cold the blood rushing through me that had moments ago been heated with aggravation. Everything about this was wrong.

Leah turned her head at the sound of my voice, almost as if she was surprised I followed her. She didn't answer, not that I expected her to anyway. We both remembered what Archen had said. We both knew.

I took a step forward, and she looked up. I half-expected her to snarl at my approach, the heated exchange from before still barely a minute old, but instead she had a rather bewildered look on her face. She stared at nothing in particular, off into the distance, and sniffed the air. She seemed to be trying to pinpoint something at the edge of her senses.

"Sage?" she said in a voice as nervous and uncertain as I'd ever heard her.

"W-What?" I answered, taking another step forward.

She sniffed the air again, this time with increased tenacity. Then she voiced her concern, and even as she said it, I could feel the surrounding air begin to get warmer.

"…Is something burning?"