This story was co-developed by Titan127 and beta read by ShonnaRose and JhinoftheOpera.

[7-1] Alone If I Have To

Saber decided to break his own rules as he traced the woods back to the nearby village, justifying it as refreshment. One of his capsules came alive.

Before Saber could process, he was dragged into the powerful arms of his father's Dragonite, Uesugi. It knocked the wind out of him, but he wasn't going to back down. One always fought Dragonite with assertion because that was how one remained their equal.

Saber squeezed the emerald Pokémon into his own strangling hug, and soon they were battling to see who could crush the other's ribs first. When he heard—and felt—a crack, Saber contained his wincing to a twitch of his eye. It wasn't his place to interrupt Uesugi's momentary happiness, not when he wasn't worthy to inherit such a power at all.

His father knew how to encourage them, to draw out one hundred percent of their strength. Saber was nothing more than an apprentice who had never graduated to be a master of his own. It wasn't fair to the Pokémon to be confined by someone such as him, and receiving this strong affection only magnified his guilt.

He pulled away and ordered the Pokémon to follow, trying not to agitate the burning side of his torso. The rib would be fixed by tomorrow anyway.

Offering his Pokémon time outside stasis was risky. No matter the supposed user privacy, the PC network obviously processed location data of any Poké Ball signal, and he had no doubt the Pokémon League had him under watch. Still, his allies, his friends, needed time free of their prisons. To that end, he made sure to rotate his active party whenever he got the rare chance to stop at a PC terminal, as he'd finally transferred all his father's Pokémon to evade the expiration period of his account, meaning he could only work with his own account's maximum of six from now on.

He and his father's Dragonite marched through the woods towards Solaceon, the creature spinning a song of morale with its dull roars. In all honesty, Saber was mystified that the creature could keep itself so optimistic despite the passing of its Trainer. Maybe it was because it trusted him to find the justice his father deserved. That thought made his steps forward a little rougher, a little more tense. He couldn't let that faith fall, just as a Champion shouldn't squander the faith of the citizens they were supposed to protect.

His eyes snapped forward, and in the seconds before a Leaf Blade connected with his chest, he shoved himself backward. In unison, he and Uesugi fell into tense stances amidst the smooth sway of the forest. The only thing still beside them was a short Pokémon in front of him, humanoid in shape with skin of wood and a single leaf rising from its head.

"A Nuzleaf," Saber announced. They were common around this area of Sinnoh, though they were usually less active come autumn. He held out his hand to Uesugi, whose open jaw implied it was going to charge a beam attack. "Allow me. Most of your attacks would cause too much attention, or worse, critically injure the poor thing."

His Gligar leapt from the data stream of another capsule and stood opposite the aggressive wild. It was his most discreet Pokémon by far, with parity of strength as an unevolved form. There was no need to equip its Eviolite, either, not for such a trivial encounter.

"You haven't fought a wild battle in a while, but you just need to display your power enough for it to run away. We've probably accidentally stepped into its territory," he explained.

Gligar took this implicit direction and lunged, forming its pincers together in an X shape. The Nuzleaf took the hit directly, skidding across the ground. An off-colored fluid leaked from a chip in its stiff skin, but the crease of its brow said it wasn't finished yet.

It charged. Gligar prepared a Fury Cutter to keep it at bay, but the Nuzleaf coated its hand in its own fluid and flung it, catching its opponent in the eyes. Saber's eyes went wide. Before he could react, the two Pokémon ended their battle on their own terms. Gligar's stinger speared fired blind into the wooden body, which Nuzleaf matched with a swift strike to its abdomen.

And, without any other input, the Nuzleaf bounded away, limping from the Poison Jab injection. Before Saber could give chase, it seemed to dissolve into the trees.

Immediately, Saber recalled his Pokémon, only successfully sending Uesugi back to the network. He couldn't risk them being sighted around town, though Gligar wrapped its tail around his torso and gently clamped its pincers to his shoulders. Unwilling to argue, Saber put its capsule away. The Pokémon licked his hair as thanks.

That Nuzleaf's move, the improvised use of its own bodily fluid, wasn't so unusual. Wild Pokémon weren't stupid or unstrategic—trained Pokémon only relied on human strategy because the delegation helped increase their reaction time for direct exchanges. But, even after taking a super effective hit, it didn't call other Pokémon in its social group for assistance. It wasn't defending territory. It was scouting for its Trainer.

What if the International Police had already caught up to them? What if it was a regular Trainer that saw the news reports and meant to tip off the authorities? What if, what if, whatifwhatifwhatif…?

He bit down hard on his gums and sprinted back to Solaceon, the forest quickly disappearing behind him. One night. No matter how much more he wanted to study the ruins, he gave himself a single night to rest before moving on.

Once he breached the town limits, he slinked out of sight of the main road until he located the small inn at the corner of town, which welcomed the ivy that crawled up nearby trees and leapt across the gap to its siding. The lovely couple of hosts gave him a wave as he trudged up the creaking and crooked wooden stairs to the second floor, and then locked himself in his room to lay down. Even with his head against the headboard, his feet still hung over the edge. Gligar found the coat rack and wrapped his tail around it to hang.

He dug a cheap-feeling cell phone out of his bag, even though his Pokétch was firmly clenched to his wrist. There were no numbers in its contacts, and he let his memory guide his fingers until it began to ring. It took a few moments, as the person on other side of the invisible thread no doubt scrambled for privacy.

Sinnohan words came through, though the basic phone offered no visual. "Oh, yes, hello! It's wonderful to hear from you, Sebastian."

"Hello, Dr. Cassius. I'm here to report my findings for the past few days," he said.

"Just a moment to get my notebook ready." The man shuffled around somewhere, halfway across the Region. Saber heard a pen click. "Go ahead, Sebastian."

He explained to the archaeologist everything that he'd come across in Solaceon, and the multiple messages left by the forefathers of the Unown language. Through his rambles, Dr. Cassius never offered so much as a word, and he failed to provide feedback aside from the distant march of a pen's ballpoint. Saber finally exhausted things to say from memory and cracked open his mother's notes again to look at the Unown mural.

"I'm barely making twenty-five percent as much progress as I'd want, but I've started to understand a few key phrases. And it's enough that I already have some insights on my future dissertation! For example, after reviewing major literature on Hoenn, I've found some notable similarities in sentence construction that might imply the Hoenn language is Unown's closest extant relative. I could also research into the longevity of Unown itself and how it's possible the slowest-changing language still present in recorded history."

Saber's lungs hugged tightly the burning furnace of his heart as he considered his path for the future, though. He truly might be the pioneer of published information on Unown once he finished his graduate studies. Of course, he'd taken a short hiatus from such work for the time being, but he could afford to miss a few weekly seminars, and his major research projects only subscribed to a hard, end-of-year deadline.

"Well, I can't say I'm much help as a linguist, but you do offer some interesting insights on the connection between monuments. Do you notice any frequent topics?" asked Dr. Cassius.

"Without clearly knowing every character, I can't say much at all. According to my mother's writings, these people, whoever they were, were exceptionally focused on community living."

"And? Anything else?"

"I have reason to believe one character means something like "god", and I've seen it in multiple places."

"Do you believe they were widely religious?" asked Dr. Cassius.

Saber wanted to sit up, to involve himself more in the conversation, but he could feel that displaced rib fragment digging in so he succumbed to the cushioning below him. "Would you have an insight by some chance, Doctor?"

"It's just my personal research," he said, "but I'd be curious to know if they understood Pokémon of 'higher being' just as we do."

Dr. Cassius was a major researcher of Legendary Pokémon, so of course he would be interested in that line of thought. Saber considered, though by slim chance, that the assumption might lead him somewhere. He followed the thin line that the man had drawn as a trail.

"Well, I suppose if they did recognize Legendary Pokémon in the same way we do, your writing would be accessible reference material to define more Unown symbols. And— wait a moment, you're not trying to sell me a textbook, are you?"

The man laughed through the crackling speaker, already dying and not even used twice. "It'd be more than my publisher pays in royalties, so please do. But no. Assuming that was the case, perhaps you could search somewhere that has both notable history of Legendary Pokémon and recorded Unown symbols to look for similarity in messages."

"That's… that's one-hundred percent genius, Dr. Cassius!" exclaimed Saber. "The best place to start would be Snowpoint, with its myths about the titan Regigigas. You found Unown monuments there at your dig site, didn't you?"

"Oh! You know about that. Well, it's perhaps not so much Unown monuments as it is one instance of that odd symbol on your mother's keepsake," he said.

The pendant. It had some relation to the Unown language, or rather, the society that nurtured it. His mother had drawn that same, wavy symbol in her notes along with a few small, though ultimately unhelpful, thoughts about its relevance.

He wondered how much his father had contributed to this puzzle, because his people had provided the pendant as his wedding gift to his mother, and the Ruins of Alph were protected by those who upheld the traditions of Blackthorn. It was his culture that had some connection to that symbol. Maybe it was his language, an ancient form of it whose speakers had been lost to dust. Snowpoint would be a worthwhile expedition to see what more connection he could establish, especially if Dr. Cassius's archaeological team was still in the process of unearthing another section of the temple.

Of course, there was another location in Sinnoh famed for its view into the past, but he'd merely circled it on his journey thus far. First of all, his mother had a surprising lack of personal notes on it, despite how well-documented it was—she didn't even have points on the Legendary Pokémon of the Lakes or the supposed power of the Timespace Orbs, major cornerstones of Sinnohan origin myth. He'd heard her ramble about them, so she must have researched them at one point, but her connection to the town was now but a question. And he supposed there were… other reasons he didn't wish to venture closer, either.

"Why not the ruins at Celestic Valley?" said Dr. Cassius, snatching it from his evasive thoughts. Saber fully expected him to narrow it down and had only suggested otherwise to bide time for another, more rational excuse. Without that loaded in the chamber, he had no choice but to fire a blank.

"My mother researched Snowpoint much more recently than she did Celestic, and with you on call, I have a much stronger information network to work off." Saber reasoned this in his head, and the more he spun the puzzle, the more it began to fit together. He was growing excited again. "I have to follow her exact trail. That's what will lead me to the culprit."

Dr. Cassius didn't respond, giving him the stage. He felt his impulses swell in his legs and arms, urging him to leave behind his bed and jump headfirst into a void of work, unable to sit still while there were so many dangerous questions still unanswered.

"The International Police hasn't found anything yet. I'm the only one who can find my parents' murderers now. And when I find them, I'll—" What would he do? He still didn't know what opinion was hidden inside him, even if the rational side talked much more cleanly and concisely. "I'll bring them to justice, no matter what."

"Sebastian?" asked Dr. Cassius.

"I can't just let it continue on like this. Not while the Region is still struggling for a new Champion, and while every innocent person is afraid of criminals in the shadows," he said.

The faces of everyone at the Sinnoh League flashed through his mind. Receptionists, guests, Trainers, politicians. He hadn't been able to see any of them as the people they were before—now, they were suspects. The only person spared that was, possibly, his sister, but she had changed in a different way. Judging by his twitching hand, he had too.

Saber's agitation, his distress, his fear, then chased possibilities beyond the League, to anyone his parents had connection with. Maybe it was someone within the Dragon Clan. His father was always secretive about their activities, refusing to give him and his sister more than a glimpse into their odd rituals, but he had been a high-ranking cleric of sorts. A target.

"Clair, his cousin. She never had a strong relationship with my father but was an important figure in their clan. His position was granted to her after his death, so maybe it was her ploy," he said aloud, now more rambling to himself than anyone else. "Maybe it was Oberon Terminus himself, they had the most power to interrupt his agenda. And there's still that interloper! Kris's friend said there was someone meddling behind the scenes that urged my parents to become involved with the Ruins of Alph!"

He finally consumed his last remaining air, leaving him gasping for breath. He didn't realize how quickly he'd been speaking, nor how much he seemed to be burning up under his shirt.

The man's voice cut through his silence, crackled through the speaker. "Sebastian, are you certain that you want to do this?"

He finally managed to sit up. The broken rib jabbed into his lung, but he wholly refused to let it bother him. "You must be joking."

"Consider, Sebastian. Your mother and father, they… they died because of what they knew. You do see where this might lead you, don't you?" he asked.

Saber killed the emotional response that threatened to burst out. Of course he knew. There was no way he could avoid that simple truth, not as a rational, clear-minded, non-deluded, logical, coherently thinking individual. He knew the chance of danger was non-zero. "I have to do this, Dr. Cassius. And I'll do it alone if I have to."

An uncomfortable pause passed between them, and Saber regretted his ramble. He clutched his mother's notebook against his center. It was because of those stakes that he had to continue down this path, rather than turning away. It was his duty to decipher the message and discover what exactly had led to their deaths. And, beyond that, he wanted to know what their final message said. Not as a linguist with a peer-review panel in waiting, but as their son.

He wanted to talk to them one last time.

"If that's what you wish," said Dr. Cassius, "I won't stop you."

"That's good, Doctor," replied Saber.

"I should be going now. I'll continue passing along your information to your sister for as long as I'm at the Sinnoh League."

And perhaps she'd actually reach out soon, he said to himself. Dr. Cassius had already disconnected, leaving him clutching the precious gift.

A nagging thought had occurred to him in the midst of their conversation. Why would his mother have no thoughts on some of the most relevant myths in Sinnoh? It was as uncharacteristic of her as not having a table of contents in her personal tome.

Saber flipped through, comparing the content of the pages. Logically she'd place it adjacent to notes about Mt. Coronet and Solaceon, or nearby similar notes about artifacts from other Regions. He swiped a gentle hand over a series of pages for the artifacts that supposedly summoned natural deities of the Hoenn Region, the Red and Blue Orbs—it was one of few things she cooperated with Dr. Stone on, since he had helped uncover description-matching objects that were currently under the care of the Devon Corporation. Why would she have information on Hoenn artifacts, but not ones from her home Region?

Saber flipped to the front of the book and retrieved his flashlight. Switching it on, he illuminated the fiber of the opening pages, covered in beautiful, swirling characters compared to the increasingly hurried writing in the later pages. He narrowed his gaze.

There was residue. It was barely visible, but when he was close enough to smell rotting paper and dried ink, he could see faint marks smeared by another page. But, as he compared them closely with the paired page present, he realized they didn't match.

The table of contents had been torn from the notebook, cleanly enough that he couldn't tell from the binding. And that meant any number of pages could have vanished from this personal record.

That didn't make sense. She might have removed something to further her research, but if his parents intended to leave him a final message, why would they have left the remainder in tatters? She couldn't have, and therefore no one else could've.

No. Technically, there was someone else. The last person who had the notebook was—

With this on his mind, he remained horribly awake throughout the night. There was no easy explanation to the answer he stumbled upon. No matter how little sleep he had enjoyed, his eyelids fluttered open at dawn to commotion outside. A quick check of his abdomen told him that the rib was back in place, and all that remained was lingering pain from the day before. He leapt from the cramped bed and peeked behind the curtains.

A squadron of men and women scattered outside, questioning the townsfolk. Their body armor and insignias were unmistakable. His suspicion about the Nuzleaf was proven. He hadn't been paranoid. He'd been right.

Without delay, he shoved his belongings in his bag, fired a beam at the still-hanging Gligar, and raced downstairs. He slammed a wad of bills on the counter as he passed and headed towards the back of the building, where he kicked open a locked door in the direction of the woods.

His partner Dragonite appeared, and immediately the creature understood. He let the creature grasp him tight as the beat of its wings swirled wind on the ground. With one strong push, they blasted into the sky, hoping to stay one step ahead of the International Police.

For those who missed it, I released the first chapter of a canonical sidestory titled Ten Thousand Meters in the time between the last chapter and this one. It focuses on Gold, and is a direct sequel to Anew, HGSS adaptation I wrote between 2018 and 2020.

Next is Volume 7, Part 2: Traveling Heavy, Like a Feather. See you someday!