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

[7-4] Appointed Protector

Russel "Crag" Daisaku.

In truth, Ciel didn't know very much about him, as he'd only met the man once under less-than-ideal circumstances, but he'd still made a lasting impact on him. Like Brent, he'd saved Ciel from disaster early in his Johto Gym Challenge, and he liked to believe that set him on track to being the person he was now.

All he knew about Crag is that he lived—literally lived—in caves, used cave-dwelling Pokémon, and spoke in by far the most befuddling accent Ciel had heard in his entire life. It sounded more like the extinct hymns of yore or an alien tongue than an actual, real, living language. But he had info from trusted sources that told him it was Unovan.

And to top off the mystery of this man, and as for why Ciel was currently in the back office of the Oreburgh Gym, he was apparently the city's newest Gym Leader.

"Oi, ya gotta try dis tea a'found," he said, shoving a steaming cup into his hands. Crag held one of his own, hilariously small within his massive palms. He pinched the handle between two fingers to lift it.

The office was covered in dust, and the unpacked boxes made it smell even staler. Crag must not have used it much—he didn't seem like the kind of man for pencil-pushing.

"What's in it?" Ciel asked, not sure where that question came from.

"Just'a foinest leaves from 'round da Ecruteak fahrests. Ah hav'ta import, dough."

Ciel took a sip and felt a sting on his tongue. The pleasant aftertaste couldn't counterbalance the primary "flavor".

"Dat also got, uhh, som'ta rare metal from down 'ere mix'in," he said.

"Right," replied Ciel.

"Oh boy, ya don'even know 'ow surprised ah was when'a'saw ya on dat televishon. Ya saved an aeroplane err somethin'," said Crag.

"Y-yeah, that was me." Ciel tried to switch subjects quickly. "How did you even end up becoming the Gym Leader here?"

"Da'big man ofta Underground's a pal a'mine, he need'ta retire'n had his boy Byron take ovah as da big man. Den his grandboy Roark took ovah fer his boy, n'so dey foun' me'n said apply at da Sinnah League. Terns out I'ma good man fer ta job."

"But, you live—lived—in Johto, right?" Ciel asked.

"Nah, Oi live anywhere's caves. Hohen, Kantoh, all dat."

"Is there any cave you haven't been in?"

Crag considered this question as if he'd never once been asked that before. "Dat Terminus Cave in Kahlos, where da Pokaymon League guy's folks made der money. Dey nevah did lemme in dere."

Ciel tried the tea again and found that, despite the metallic film it left on his tongue, it tasted better the second time. He chugged it accidentally, not understanding just how parched he was from earlier. What time he didn't spend judging the tea in his mouth he instead spent preparing for what he actually wanted to talk about.

"Thank you for saving us back there," he said suddenly. "None of the others had strong enough Pokémon to hold it up like you did, so if you hadn't made it, then…"

"Nah, y'aint tink about wha'if," Crag told him. "Ah'd jus' got 'ere from dere Pokaymon League in Sinnah, dey did ah cahl fer da Champ audishions. Nothin' fer me, lookin' like."

"I just… got it in my mind that I had to do something when I saw the people in the mine. I know I shouldn't have gotten my Pokémon involved and almost gotten them killed, too."

"Maybey," said Crag, which stung more than the tea. Ciel turned away in distaste. "But ya did'ta roight ting. Dat counts fer a bunch."

"I guess." He couldn't have had less confidence in this statement if he tried.

"Well, ah ain't gonna keep ya from tah fans. Jus' wanted'ta catch up'a tad."

"Fans?"

Crag beckoned him over, placing his tea on the unused main desk. Ciel followed him out the door through the Oreburgh Gym proper. It reminded him of Chuck's Gym, with standing rock formations and stone walls that gave the impression the facility itself was underground.

He stared longingly at the plateau in the center of the Gym. Though he couldn't see it, it was almost certainly where the battle arena was.

"Ah ain't able'ta take yah on fer dat Coal Badge, sorry," Crag said.

"I know. Me and my sister are just on our way to Floaroma until you guys are able to take challengers again," Ciel said.

They pushed out the front door, where the citrus sky of the evening was masked by the coal smog. It looked nice, in a way.

A bunch of the men from earlier were gathered around, some in casual clothes and others still in their work uniforms. As well, many of their Pokémon had also gathered, including the Snorlax, Machamp, Golem, and Rhyperior from before. Upon his stepping out, they all put up their arms and erupted into cheers. All in Sinnohan, but he got the general idea. Oreburgh was finally alive, and he was the center of it all.

"Dey got boys checkin' out da mine fer one'a dem news storeys. Deys gonna be askin' fer ya," said Crag.

Ciel fought his instinct to turn away and instead focused on what it meant. His face would be halfway to everywhere soon, and that's exactly what he needed. His shoulders and neck straightened despite the wear on his body from today.

Laina and his Pokémon were there, standing in waiting. He'd asked his sister to take them to the Pokémon Center to help their exhaustion and any injuries. Raven, Arden, and Brisa—who was harassing a nearby miner with her beak—looked unchanged, though Hector's condition made his breath hitch.

His Rhydon was covered in cracks, recalling his time as a Rhyhorn before his armor had solidified. He didn't sustain major internal injuries, thankfully—for as long as that terrifying moment felt, Hector had only had to support the cave's weight for a few seconds at most. When Ciel hesitantly placed his hand on the creature's drill horn, there was no anger in his eyes. It was what he wanted. Ciel knew how he felt, but it was much harder to accept than to know.

Crag's Rhyperior approached them, shaking the ground beneath its feet. It stood as Hector's reflection, though stockier and nearly a meter taller. Ciel could see the glint in his Rhydon's eyes as he examined the unyielding plates its evolved relative had grown.

The Gym Leader held out something to Ciel and dropped it into his palm when Ciel presented it. It was an amassment of ceramic-like plates shaped like an abstract little house, a roof and two walls to protect a tiny spark of life.

"Dat's a prasent from da' boys. Fer' helpin' at da mine, an' fer not bein' able'ta give dat battle ya' wanted," said Crag. "'s fer yer Rhydon."

Ciel marveled at it, and then at the contest of presence between the two Drill Pokémon. Someday, Hector could reach his physical peak. His body would be the ultimate shield that he wanted it to be, allowing him to protect anyone and everyone. Ciel would stand by him on his way to the top.

Crag laughed loud and smacked his back with his giant hand. "Well, ya kids need'a place ta stay? Dat Pokaymon League put me in'a cabin somwere, an' I can cook ye a big ol' dinnah. Dinnah and tea!"

"Yeah!" shouted Laina. "We deserve to eat and then pass out!"

"Off dis way, den!"

With so much on his mind, Ciel was content to let his sister take the lead. He made sure to warn her that the tea was an acquired taste.

My main character focus with Ciel is building this public support from his good deeds. I was inspired a bit by the 2003 FMA anime, which makes clearer that Ed and Al become small-town heroes through all their adventures and it's part of why Ed is a good candidate for becoming a State Alchemist. I really liked it as a view into how ideas spread via word-of-mouth, and how it gave view of a wider scope of the world.

I had a ton of fun writing this. Next starts Volume 8 with Part 1: Lie there and Die. See you someday!