3 A Strange Old Man

"Ash!" Misty cried.

She and Brock rushed back to where their friend had fallen. Jin'ei stood over them, glaring down on them coldly. His soft and slow chuckle seemed to echo as he extended his arm.

Brock looked up at him, feeling the energy his enemy was gathering. Hearing the mocking laughter, his rage boiled over. A sudden surge of adrenaline drove away his terror and forced him to action.

Jin'ei stumbled backward as Brock's fist smashed into his face. Growling, Jin'ei pressed his hand against Brock's chest and unleashed a blast of force that knocked him from his feet. With a twisted grin, he rubbed his jaw and chuckled again, impressed by the boy's strength. Even though he had lessened the impact of the blow by moving back with it, it had been quite painful. He almost felt it was a shame he would have to kill them. Almost.

Misty began to sob as she huddled over Ash's prone body and Togepi squealed fearfully. Jin'ei glanced down at her cruelly. He formed another ball of energy in his hand.

"Relax," He whispered in mock comfort. "I assure you that your death will be painless. A few seconds and it will all be over."

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded.

Jin'ei took aim for Misty's head. Closing her eyes, she held Ash close to her and waited for the blow to come. It never did. Instead, a shrill whistle suddenly pierced the air, followed by two more, each a lower note than before. Jin'ei hesitated, looking away from his victim. A muttering voice came to their ears, loudly humming an unfamiliar tune and vocalizing every few notes.

Out of the darkness, an aged form appeared, walking slowly toward them with his hands held behind his back. His starscape robes were a dark purple color and he wore leather moccasins of the same color. He had a stout, wrinkled face that gave him a jovial appearance, topped with short, gray hair. His cleft chin was dotted randomly by partially shaved stubble.

"Oh, they say la da dum," he sang to himself, speaking with a mild British accent. "Oh, how does it go? La da dum da. Hmm?"

At that moment he noticed the others. His navy blue eyes opened wide and he drew a long breath. He exhaled with a thoughtful hum and then continued to approach them.

"My, my," he mumbled. "What have we here? Seems like trouble to me. What could be going on so late at night? Nothing good, I suppose."

Ignoring Jin'ei altogether, he stood over the others and eyed them with concern, making an odd clicking noise with his tongue. Misty looked up at him with a confused expression. He met her gaze with a gentle, protective smile. He reached down and softly patted her on the cheek in a reassuring manner. Turning from her, he saw Pikachu and a sudden twinkle came to his eyes. He knelt down beside it and began to stroke its head.

"Now, if you aren't the cutest little fellow," the stranger cooed.

Jin'ei's eye twitched in agitation. Who was this strange man? He looked familiar to him, but he couldn't place a name to the face.

"Excuse me," he shouted exasperatedly.

The stranger turned to Jin'ei, looking at him as if he had just now noticed him for the first time. He clicked three more times and then spoke.

"If you please, young man," he calmly implored, "leave these children alone and remove yourself from my property."

Jin'ei growled, flames burning in his eyes. He held out his projectile waving it menacingly.

"Do not interfere, old man," he warned icily.

The stranger drew another deep breath, considering the words. He nodded his head and then turned back to Pikachu.

"Do forgive me," he apologized.

Pikachu squealed in protest as the old man yanked a few strands of hair from the pokemon's head. Closing his hand over them, he rose to his feet and faced Jin'ei. He held out a finger on his other hand and shook it admonishingly.

"I did ask politely," he said.

Jin'ei stared at the stranger in bewilderment, wondering if the old man was crazy. His eyes widened in horror when he saw electricity begin to crackle around the old man's clenched fist and he suddenly realized why he had seemed familiar. He ducked to the side as a bolt of lightning shot past, burning a large hole through his cape. He stared at his ruined clothing for a moment, his lower lip quivering, then turned back to the sorcerer with venomous rage in his expression.

"Hmm!" the stranger said sharply, looking Jin'ei in the eyes.

Suddenly, Jin'ei realized his glasses had slipped down. Cursing himself, he pushed them back up the bridge of his nose. The old man nodded to himself.

"I'll ask again," he said pleasantly. "Please leave my home."

"You will regret this!" Jin'ei promised.

"That seems hardly likely," chuckled the old man. "Now, do I have to ask you to leave again?"

Jin'ei fumed inwardly. The sorcerer's voice lacked any hint of malice. It was as casual as if he were talking to a friend and that confidence made Jin'ei all the angrier. He wanted to lash out at the old man and wipe the self-assured smile from his face. He wanted to strike him down and tear him limb from limb. The singed hairs on his arm told him that trying would be a bad idea. The air made a popping sound as it rushed in to fill the empty space Jin'ei left behind.

With a deep sigh, the stranger bent down beside Ash's body and removed the cap. He ran his wrinkled fingers through Ash's hair around the back of his head, clicking his tongue again. He looked up at the others and smiled.

"You're lucky that your friend tripped," he remarked. "If that bolt had hit him square as it was intended, it surely would've shattered his skull."

Misty and Brock were struck speechless by the eccentricity of the old man. Neither felt entirely sure that what they had just seen was real. It was just too strange to believe. And his behavior. He acted as though nothing great had even happened, brushing aside the assault with the hum of a lively tune. What kind of person had just saved them?

"Um, thank you for saving us," Misty said at last.

"Think nothing of it," he replied. "Always glad to help. Now, we'd best get inside. I imagine you're both a bit shaken up."

Gently cradling his head, the old man picked up Ash's body and started back in the direction he'd come. The others hesitated, too dazed by the recent events to think clearly. The old man stopped and looked back at them over his shoulder.

"Well, come along," he prompted. "It gets bloody chilly outside at night. You don't want to catch a cold, do you?"

"What about our things?" Misty asked, still in a bit of a stupor. "We left them behind."

"Oh, they'll be there in the morning," he said. "That young man was emitting such a frightful aura that it will probably be a few days before any wild pokemon would dare venture near that spot again."

He chuckled to himself as he started forward again. The others rushed to catch up.

"Excuse me," Brock inquired. "Who are you?"

"They call me Lotus," he replied. "And they should, it is my name after all."

The two stopped for a moment, staring at each other, dumbfounded. The name really wasn't helpful. They still had no idea who they were dealing with, or why he had saved them, or even what he wanted with them. Shrugging, Misty turned to follow the old man and Brock joined her quickly.

Lotus led them to a small clearing nearby, where a modest-sized cottage awaited them. Smoke rose lazily from the stone chimney and a light could be seen from the window. When the group came closer, the light moved away from the window and the front door opened.

In the doorway stood a tall girl of about age sixteen, wearing a black nightgown and holding a lantern. Her red curls dangled messily over her shoulders and a large murkrow sat perched on her shoulder.

"Lilly?" Misty called out, recognizing her friend.

Lilly rushed out to meet them. "I thought I knew that voice I heard," she remarked. She noticed Ash lying limp in Lotus's arms and a troubled look came to her face. "Oh, no! Grandfather, is he . . .?"

"No," Lotus replied, shaking his head. "He just took a little knock to the head is all. He'll be fine in the morning, though I don't envy him the headache he will have for it. I'll put him in a comfortable bed and let him sleep." His voice suddenly became stern. "Which is exactly what you ought to be doing right now, young lady."

Lilly chuckled nervously. "Well," she explained, "I recognized Ash's voice calling out for help and I was worried."

Lotus's expression seemed to become distant as he probed his memory. He looked down at the boy in his arms for a long moment. He half shook his head and made a puzzled humming sound.

"Nyugh," he grumbled perplexedly. "I would hope you'd find him too young to be a boyfriend, but his name sounds terribly familiar. Do I know him?"

"You haven't met him personally," Lilly explained. "But I've told you about him before. You remember the time I borrowed your book?"

The aged sorcerer thought for a moment then suddenly began to laugh heartily. "Of course," he said. "The mistranslation. So, this is the boy, is it? What a strange coincidence."

"Mistranslation?" Misty asked.

An embarrassed flush of red colored Lilly's cheeks. "In the old language," she explained, "the only difference between the words "mind" and "body" is which syllable you stress the most. What I though said, 'get into the mind of a pokemon,' was actually 'get into the body of a pokemon.' I was still learning the grammar structure of the language back then, so I got confused."

"If she had read the complete description," Lotus added, "she would have realized she was casting the wrong spell. Furthermore, if she had remembered her lessons on the ancient tongue, she would have realized that the description for the spell she was thinking of should have read, 'know the voice of.' And . . ."

"They get the point," Lilly interrupted in a whining voice.

Misty and Brock laughed. They both remembered the incident from when they had first met Lilly. She had told them about a spell that would let a person read a pokemon's mind and asked for their help in gathering the ingredients. Once they had found everything, Ash volunteered to be the test subject, but it hadn't worked out as they expected, with the he result being that Ash had been temporarily transformed into a pikachu. That had been almost a year ago, not far from where they were right now.

"Well," Lotus said as the laughter died down, "off to bed with you. They'll be time to talk to your friends in the morning." Turning to the others, he added, "I'll show you to the guest room."

Lilly said goodnight as she disappeared into the house and into her room. Having seen an old friend, the others felt their fears and doubts lifted from them and gratefully followed their host into the house and Brock closed the door behind them.

---

There was a soundless burst of light as Jin'ei appeared in the entryway of his home, a lavish estate of incredible size. He let out a long, heavy sigh as he tried to sublimate his rage. Again, it had been within his grasp and he had lost it. So close, yet so far. He took another deep breath, looking at himself in the gold-framed mirror that hung next to him. Seeing how ragged he appeared made him feel all the wearier. His hair was tangled and coarse and his unshaven face was in a vile mess. He turned away from it with a groan of disgust.

"Rogers!" he called.

Edmond Rogers, a tall, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, came rushing from the main room to greet his employer. He stopped short with a gasp when he saw Jin'ei, dropping the rag and wood polish he carried.

"Master Artemis," he gasped, quickly scooping up the cleaning tools. "What happened?"

Jin'ei waved a dismissive hand. "I had a bit of an accident, nothing too severe. The ancient sorcerers took special care to make sure no one would take the medallion."

Rogers clasped his hands together excitedly. "You found it then?" he asked, his voice quivering with anticipation.

Jin'ei nodded, but a scowl came to his face. "I found it," he hissed. "But I lost it. It has fallen into the hands of a boy, who is now under the protection of a sorcerer."

Rogers grunted, sharing the frustration of his employer. He stepped forward, placing the rag and polish on the end table. While Jin'ei continued to gain control his anger, taking deep, frustrated breaths, the butler removed his master's torn and burnt cape and rolled it up.

"You must be terribly upset," he remarked sympathetically as he crouched down began to untie Jin'ie's shoes.

Jin'ei nodded, starting toward the staircase leading up to the second floor, Rogers pulling off each shoe with the first two steps and then slipping them under the coat rack. He placed his hands on the golden handrail and hesitated, considering the situation for a moment, then turned back to his servant.

"At least for the moment," he concluded, "I know where it is. It shouldn't be too hard to find a way to take it. I will take a shower now. Throw these rags away."

He removed his shirt and held it out with two fingers as though it were a piece of filth. Rogers took the shirt and folded it with the cape under his arm. As Jin'ei started back up the stairs, Rogers stopped him.

"Master Artemis," he said, "the dress you designed is finished. It arrived earlier this afternoon."

"I'll look at it later," Jin'ei replied. He started back up the stairs, but the mention of the dress brought another thought to his mind. "Where's Catherine?"

"Mistress Catherine has gone out," Rogers told him. "She should be back shortly."

Jin'ei laughed slightly as he thought about his wife. She was out, was she? Shopping no doubt. Catherine was a beautiful woman of a very dignified background, but, given everything she had ever wanted as a child, she had never developed sense of budget. His parents had rightly believed that she had only married him for his money and strongly opposed the marriage. His bank account number was the only thing she really saw in him. Of course, that was just fine with him; his own reasons for the marriage hadn't exactly been based on feelings of mutual respect either. She had only one use to him and as long as she served that purpose, she could do with his money as she pleased.

Still chuckling to himself, he continued up the stairs to the bathroom.

"Shall I prepare a meal for you?" Rogers asked.

"That sounds good," he replied. "Thank you."

He closed the door behind him and removed his clothes. Climbing into the shower, he adjusted the showerhead and turned on the water. He turned the dial up so that the water was as hot as he was able to withstand and let it massage his aching muscles. He sighed contentedly, relaxing his body so he could think more clearly.

He tried to place a name to the old man's face, but had no luck. He was certain that he had seen that one before. If his guess was correct, then he was a council member of the Sorcerer's Conclave. That made things a little more complicated than he had planned on.

To make things worse, the sorcerer had seen his eyes and recognized him for what he was. If the old fool even suspected his identity, he could be in serious danger. The only choice was to kill him, but that left a question of how. He didn't have the confidence to directly attack someone with such powerful magic, as a council member would undoubtedly have. There had to be another way.

He turned the water off and stepped slowly out of the stall, taking his towel from the rack. As he dried himself off, he continued to ponder his situation. He was on a fragile foothold. If he were to make a mistake now, everything would be ruined. He would have to move with extreme caution.

He took a brush from behind the mirror and carefully combed his hair. He combed out every knot and trimmed off the split ends, painstakingly working it over until his hair was as smooth as the silk of his cape. Replacing the brush, he took his electric razor and spent several minutes shaving off his facial hair. Once finished, he dressed himself in the new set of white clothes that Rogers had put beside the sink.

He inspected himself in the mirror and then frowned. Removing a pair of tweezers, he plucked a few stray hairs from his eyebrows and smoothed them over with his fingers. At last satisfied with his appearance, he left the bathroom.

He absently descended the stairs and turned towards the dinning room, hardly noticing his progress. His footsteps were light on the marble floor, but his visage was heavy with apprehension. He came to the dinning hall and sat down at the far end of the table. With a troubled sigh, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the crystal chandelier in such deep thought that it surprised him when he heard Rogers' voice.

"Will you take caviar with your meal?" the servant asked.

Jin'ei shook his head, but didn't look at him. Rogers placed a crystal glass on the table and opened a wine bottle, filling the glass with the red liquid. He silently set out the sterling silver utensils and a silk napkin. Jin'ei took no notice of the butler when he left the room.

He drew a long breath and let it role out into a soft growl. It wasn't fair. All his life, people had tried to deny him what was rightfully his. He should have been the one to sit at the Conclave. He deserved that position. He had earned it through his years of hard and diligent study. It had all been because of Amelia, his former guild leader. She had always been jealous of his skill and his quick progress. As his power grew, so had the enmity between them. She had known all along that he would have surpassed her and probably taken her place as a council member, so she had persuaded the Conclave to cast him out of the order.

"Just wait," he whispered venomously to himself. "I'll get you for what you did. It should have been mine, damn you. And it will be mine."

"Did you say something, Master Artemis?" Rogers asked.

Jin'ei was suddenly pulled from his thoughts, noticing that his butler had just entered. "No," he replied.

Rogers placed a china dish of prawns before his employer and took a step back, eagerly awaiting his reply. Jin'ei speared one of the prawns with his fork and put it into his mouth, chewing it slowly. The smile that appeared on his master's face after he swallowed was enough to delight him.

Jin'ei glanced at his servant gratefully. He trusted Rogers more than anyone else and considered him to be his only real friend. Rogers was always eager to please him and had helped him so many times. Even if the whole world conspired against him, at least he knew he would have one loyal friend.

"It's delicious," Jin'ei said. "As always. Thank you, Rogers."

Rogers' eyes gleamed with pride. "It is my pleasure, Master Artemis," he said, bowing low.

They heard the front door open and Rogers rushed off to greet Catherine. Jin'ei lifted his glass to his lips while he listened to the casual conversation; Rogers offering to take the bags, his wife telling him where to put them and other trivial things. He set the glass back down and turned toward his wife as she passed by the door.

She was wearing casual black attire, with a long coat and leather gloves. Her waves of long golden hair flowed down from her head, rolling smoothly over her right shoulder. She smiled at him and greeted him in her usual, seductive manner, strolling casually into the dining room, the light shimmering on her hair with each step.

"You've been gone for two days," she said. "I was beginning to worry about you."

Jin'ei snorted in amusement. "I'm sure," he replied, turning back to his meal.

Catherine recognized the tone in his voice and easily guessed the results of his expedition. This time, she told herself, the game would be a little harder to play than usual. She disappeared down the hallway, only to return a short time later wearing the new dress, gazing at him temptingly with her deep blue eyes. Jin'ei removed his glasses and looked her over closely, slowly stroking his ear.

The dress was a rose red color, fully accentuating her luscious lips. Held in place by a pair of thin straps, its v-shaped neckline dangled just above her breasts, accompanied by shoulder length white gloves and her special black high-heals completed the package. Her hair was worn up in a bun and a large diamond necklace dangled in her visible cleavage, daring his eyes to follow its course. She glided slowly toward him, enticing him with her alluring gaze and enchanting smile.

Jin'ei set his glasses back in place and sipped at his wine, paying little attention to her as she stepped around him. Naturally, the dress was nice, he designed it, after all, but something seemed off, didn't properly compliment the shape of a woman's body. Despite his confidence in his designs, he was quite sure that the shape of her body was not the problem.

Catherine sighed with longing, longing that Jin'ei recognized as an act and was quick to ignore. He drew a lurid breath when she wrapped her silky-skinned arms around him and tensed up as he felt her breasts press against the back of his shoulders. She suckled on his ear, causing his lips to part in a quivering grin of pleasure. She let her head droop lower, kissing his neck and he leaned his head a bit to the side, his breath quickening. She felt so good, but she was also very distracting. He quickly forced back his desires, sliding the chair back and forcing her off of him.

"Not now," he told her. "I have other things to think about at the moment."

Rogers entered with another glass of wine and gave it to Catherine. She took the glass and drank it slowly, never taking her lascivious gaze off of Jin'ei. He stood with his back facing her for a moment, his posture still tense. He seemed hesitant to leave, as though he were reconsidering his decision, but would not make a move to betray his thoughts. After a pause, Jin'ei made a sound of clearing his throat and then loosened his shoulders and straitened up.

"I'm going to bed now," he said.

Catherine watched with a smug grin as her husband slithered out of the dinning room. He was going to bed. She almost chuckled. She well understood the mind games he played; he was so easy for her to read. She waited a few moments before giving Rogers a slight nod and a wink. Rogers bowed, knowing exactly what she meant even without hearing it. With a disapproving frown, he left the room.

---

Jin'ei tossed his clothes into the hamper beside his bed before climbing into it. Pulling up the sheets, he laid back his head to think. Cerebral would not an easy prize to take. The children and their filthy animals were nothing, but the sorcerer; he presented a problem that could not be circumvented. He needed a plan of action. The old fool's home would be warded by tomorrow morning, weakening his ability to effectively use his powers, possibly rendering them entirely useless. It may come down to physical combat for him.

He glanced to the side, noting the heirloom displayed on the wall; a rapier, hanging from an oak plaque. It was old, but if cleaned up and sharpened, it could be used. Yes, he thought, he could handle a fight with an old man, provided he could gain the element of surprise and get close enough to cut off his ability to effectively use his more powerful spells, but how was he going to do that?

A beam of light fell across his face and he lifted his head. Catherine stood leaning against the doorway, smiling at him. He sat up and looked at her, leaning against the headrest of his bed. She plucked out her hairpins, letting her hair flow outward and float down about her shoulders. She slid across the doorframe, keeping her back pressed lightly against it, gliding into the room.

"That dress would've looked better as a strapless," Jin'ei commented, finally seeing the error.

Catherine pulled away from the door and gripped at the straps of the gown, letting them slip off her shoulders. The dress slid tantalizingly low as she approached. Too much, Jin'ei's resistance at last broke. A carnal laugh escaped from his throat and he pulled back the sheets and allowed her to climb into the bed.

Jin'ei smiled contentedly as he ran his fingers through Catherine's golden locks and listened to her soft, rhythmic breathing, reveling in the warmth of her body against his bare chest. She did indeed have her usefulness. He leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling and his grimace returned.

Catherine had managed to take his mind off his dilemma for a short time, but it hadn't given him a solution. What was he to do about the sorcerer? The fool would almost certainly be expecting a surprise attack. How could he get close enough to kill him?

A sudden memory from the deepest recesses of his mind surfaced and cruel smirk twisted up his expression.

"Perhaps I don't have to kill him" he thought aloud. "Not if I can have him do it for me."

With that, he closed his eyes drifted into a deep slumber filled with dreams of power.

---

Ash's eyes popped open. He stared at the blank ceiling for a moment in confusion. His thoughts scrambled through his mind in disarray, making little sense to him and the person beating on his head with hammers wasn't helping much. Rubbing his head, he sat up slowly and looked around.

He was lying in a comfortable bed in a small room with another bed beside his own. His jacket, neatly folded, as well as his shoes rested on the floor beside his bed. The scent of food permeated into the room through the open door. It was a calming setting to wake up to, but where in the world was he?

He suddenly heard laughter coming from outside the room; Misty's laughter. Groaning from the pain in his head, he got out of the bed and dressed himself with a clean pair of clothes from his backpack. He stepped out of the room and followed the sound of the laughter down the hallway, noting along the way the curious symbols drawn on the walls. As he got closer, he heard an old man's voice speaking.

"Yes," he merrily remarked, "I can see how that could cause trouble. Of course, I only ever wear black socks, so the only thing I have to worry about is which ones are clean and which ones aren't."

There was more laughter; Misty, Brock and another girl who he was sure he knew, but couldn't quite remember from where. He entered into the room and saw four people. Misty and Brock were sitting at a table with the old man he had heard and the other girl stood over a wood-burning stove, cooking eggs. The girl was wearing a dark purple shirt and skirt with lighter purple gloves and a black cape and shoes. A tall, pointed hat with a wide brim rested over her curly red hair. He recognized her, but his migraine kept chasing away her name.

Pikachu, sitting in the middle of the table, noticed him as he walked in.

"Pika-pi!" it exclaimed joyfully.

The lightning mouse ran to Ash, leaping from the table toward him. With Ash's mind as groggy as it was, Pikachu almost found itself falling to the floor and was only just barely caught in its trainer's arms.

The old man looked up at him and smiled. "So, you're awake, are you?" he said. "How are you feeling, Ash?"

Ash stared at him perplexedly. "How do you know my name?" he asked.

"We've been talking about you," Lilly replied, turning toward him. "You know, you make for the most interesting subject of conversation."

Sitting on a perch on the counter next to the stove, Murkrow spread its wings and cawed in agreement.

Seeing the young boy's bewildered look and stiff movements, Lotus rose from his seat and casually strolled over to the counter. He removed three eggs from the carton and turned back to the group. One by one, the eggs went up into the air and came back down as the old man juggled them, humming a fast tempoed melody. Ash watched with a blank expression, still unable to clear his head.

"Stop that," Lilly ordered, snatching the eggs away. "You'll drop them. I will not clean up a mess of broken eggs twice in one day."

Lotus snorted indignantly, taking one of the eggs back, and beckoned for Ash to come closer. The boy hesitated, questions stumbling drunkenly through his mind. Who was this old man? What was the egg for? Why did his head hurt so much? Lotus beckoned again, giving him a stern stare. Ash stepped up to him and the old man put a hand on his forehead. Ash heard him whisper some strange words under his breath and then felt a tingling sensation in his head.

"How do you feel now?" Lotus asked.

"My headache stopped," he said with amazement.

Smiling pleasantly, Lotus put the egg back in the carton and took his seat. Ash sat down next to them, Pikachu hopping from his arms back onto the table.

"What happened?" he asked. "I remember this white-haired guy appearing and then . . ." his voice trailed off.

"Yes," Lotus said. "You're lucky to be here, my boy. You were almost killed."

Ash thought back for a moment. He remembered the stranger attacking with glowing balls of energy, running, a lot of leaves and branches falling around him, but it was still fuzzy, even with his migraine ended.

"Who was that guy?" he asked.

Lotus opened his mouth to reply, but it was Brock who answered.

"It was Artemis Jin'ei," he said.

"You know of him?" Lotus asked.

Brock nodded. "He's the president of the Lunar Fashion clothing industry," he explained. "Since he took over his father's position a few years ago, the company has become famous for producing the most fashionable clothes available. His designs are sold in almost every country in the world."

Brock stopped when he saw the way his friends were staring at him. He was sure that he had explained it simple enough for even Ash to understand, but they were giving him very confused expressions. Even the pokemon were looking at him strangely.

"Why do you know that?" Misty asked.

Brock blushed a bit. "I spend a lot of time with girls," he replied. "It's what they talk about."

"I've never heard of it before," Misty said.

"You're not really a normal girl, Misty," Ash remarked.

Misty's cheeks flushed red with anger and she whirled on him furiously. "What is that supposed mean?" she snapped.

Ash cringed in his chair, expecting her to slap him across the face at any moment. Then tension broke when Lotus interceded.

"Now, now, my dear," he stated calmly. "There's no reason to be angry. No insult was intended. Besides, what would a young girl as interesting as you want with his clothing?"

Misty seemed to be calmed by this response. Her face resumed its normal color as she sat back down, trying to decide whether or not the way he'd said "interesting" was a compliment. The comment made sense, but somehow, she felt as though she were being made the punch line of some sideways joke that she wasn't intended to get.

Pulling the pan from the stove, Lilly salted and peppered the eggs, serving everyone around the table before scooping the last bit onto her plate and taking it back to the washbasin. There was a lively spring in her step as she pranced back to her seat, pulled back the chair and sat down, crossing her legs after scooting it back into place.

Lotus rubbed his hands together, smacking his lips as he waited for the eggs to cool down. Cracking his knuckles, he leaned back a bit and picked up his fork.

"In any case, you needn't to worry about Jin'ei for now," he said. "I've drawn up protective symbols all about the house and the yard. If he tries to get anywhere near us, I'll know right away. He won't be able to harm you while you're under my protection."

Lotus shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth

"Why would Jin'ei want to attack us in the first place?" Misty asked.

Lotus shrugged. "It doesn't make sense to me," he mumbled, chewing noisily. "He's not the kind of person who would do such a thing. Not if he could have someone else do it for him, anyway. These are very good, Lilly."

The old sorcerer swallowed loudly, then started humming to himself as he thought. As far as he knew, Jin'ei had never openly attacked someone in such a manner. He would never have risked being seen doing anything unlawful, unless it was too important to trust to someone else. But what could possibly be the significance of three children?

As Ash started into his eggs, he felt a strange warmth against his leg. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the medallion he had found. He had forgotten about it until just now and hadn't really taken the time to examine it in detail. Its soft glow gave him the unusual impression that it wanted something. The notion was silly, though. It was just a piece of bronze, no different from a medal he might earn at a competition.

Suddenly, Ash realized something that sent a shiver running down his spine. He'd left the medallion in the pocket of his other pants. It couldn't have been slipped in by someone else; only Pikachu knew about it and he would have noticed if someone had tried to do that anyway. Somehow, it had moved into his pocket on its own. How it could have, he couldn't begin to guess, but he found the thought a little creepy.

After a moment, he became aware of an odd silence that had fallen over the room. Lotus had stopped humming. Glancing up, he saw the sorcerer staring at him, his eyes wide with horror. A bit of his breakfast fell from his gaped mouth back onto his plate.

"Grandfather, what's wrong?" Lilly asked.

Lotus' voice trembled as he spoke to Ash. "Where did you find that?" he stuttered.

Ash looked at the medallion, then back to Lotus. "Pikachu found it," he answered. "By the river."

"The river?" the sorcerer whispered softly. "May I see it for a moment?"

Ash held the medallion out to him. Lotus, reached out slowly, hesitantly, tapping it with his finger before he reluctantly took it. He glared at it intensely, a shadow passing over his face. At that moment, he seemed very old and weary. The creases of his face that at first appeared to be cheerful, now made him seem ancient and withered. His lips moved, as if he was speaking, but no audible sound came out. Handing it back, he pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.

"I will be in my study," he said.

"What about your breakfast?" his granddaughter asked.

The old man looked down at the plate for a moment, clicking his tongue. He lifted it to his mouth and scooped the all of the food in at once, swallowing it with a loud gulp. Without another word, he hastily left the room, leaving everyone else in a state of stunned silence.