The future wasn't set in stone. Hell, even the past wasn't set in stone, a fact Sol had experienced first hand. Just because she saw it happen didn't mean it would. Sol had had a vision of hers fail to pass before, when she saw herself under Dusknoir's control. Grovyle had said that seers had difficulty seeing their own fate.

It's not going to happen. I would never... How could I...

Sol sobbed again and felt Eliza squeeze her shoulder. She didn't say anything, she was simply there. Sol was thankful for that, but at the same time she hated it, hated her. Lately Sol's thoughts had repeatedly turned to Dusknoir, of Amp Plains and Crystal Cave, of feelings of security and comfort, and finally, of betrayal.

And here Eliza was, just like Dusknoir had been, if a bit more stern. And hard. And bitchy. Most important, however, was her transparency. Eliza had nothing to hide, not like Dusknoir, and not like Sol, either. Of the two of them, Sol had to admit it was far more likely that she would end up being the one to stab Eliza in the back, not the other way around. Her vision had been very clear on just how capable Sol was of betrayal.

"I lied to you," Sol hiccuped between sobs. Eliza did nothing, so Sol continued. "I lied to you because I'm a horrible person, and I made Riley keep secrets from you, and you should really just leave me here and forget you ever met me."

Eliza continued to stare straight ahead, arm still around Sol. She wasn't getting it. Sol had to be clearer.

"I fuck up everything. I nearly doomed the world, I got a Legendary killed, I let my friends get locked up, I keep secrets from everybody, so many secrets." Sol choked back another sob and tried to keep her breathing under control. She saw Eliza's jaw tense. Finally, she was getting through. "I treat my friends like shit all the time, I never give anyone second chances, I cheat at card games, ok that one was a lie but see, I just lied to you again, I made juice out of grimy food and fed it to Loudred, I read Sunflora's diary," Eliza stood up and scooped Sol up in her arms while the Riolu babbled on heedlessly.

"I'm always thinking I'm better than other people, I do things then get mad when others do the exact same thing, I say mean things to Eevee when he's just trying to help... He's a good person, I don't deserve him. Or Jak. She's so tenaciously loyal, and I wouldn't do half the things for her that she's done for me. And Ren..." Sol stopped, hiccuped, then started again. "I yell at him every time he talks. Why does he put up with it? No one deserves to be called an annoying idiot every time they say something, which I do to him. I am a horrible person, and you really shouldn't help me. I'm not even a real Pokemon. I'm human. And from the future. I'm not a member of your species or time period, and I lied to you, and I'm not even sorry. You should leave me here and go. Take Riley. And Espeon. And Eevee. I'll just fuck up their lives too."

Eliza was still keeping quiet and still carrying Sol through the streets. The only indication Sol gave that she even noticed they were moving was to become increasingly agitated as Eliza refused to leave her behind.

"I'm going to kill him. Literally, not figuratively. I saw it happen. He's going to come up to me, all 'the Sol I know would never do that', and then I'm going to go ahead and do it, and by 'it' I mean kill him. And then I will laugh. You're not going to help someone who'd do something like that, would you? You should leave me."

Nothing Sol said had any effect on Eliza. The Lucario marched through the streets with the same resolute determination, and eventually Sol fell silent as well, thoughts focused on her earlier vision.

The chamber she had seen was large, made of dark red stone bricks and lit only by two large stone firebowls, one on either side of a simple though imposing throne that looked to have been composed entirely of carved obsidian, all hard angles and jagged edges without any adornments.

Four people had been, or would be, in the chamber. Eevee, Jak, Ren and herself. Team Wanderers, except they weren't a team. They faced her with looks of shock, confusion and hostility, except for Ren, stupid, stupid Ren.

"Sol is the beating heart of our team, and she would never harm it," he had said, would say, boldly walking up to her without a trace a fear. Sol regarded him with an almost childlike curiosity. Ren got closer, Sol shifted from foot to foot, Jak hissed in the background, Eevee looked ready to cry. "Sol would never-"

Sol snapped his neck. One quick movement was all it took, fast enough to miss and think Ren had simply fallen over. It took longer for the others to comprehend what she had done than it had taken for Sol to do it, and by then Sol was laughing madly and taken a seat on the throne, feet resting on an armrest while she propped herself up on her elbows on the other.

Ren had died. Would die.

And then the vision had fractured, replaying over itself with small things changed, a few more people, a few less people, a Charmeleon, a Jolteon, an Umbreon. A Tyranitar sat the throne, then a Chandelure, then no one. Just like the vision Sol had seen with Dusknoir, she saw images stacked on top of each other, ghosts of possibilities that gave her hope then snatched it away.

"Please, just leave me," Sol sniffled. Then came another round of fresh tears, quietly trickling down her face.

Eliza, as constant as a stone pillar, refused to out her down.

...

'Lumen' Skitty knew well that she twisted the truth in her articles. She just didn't see it as a problem. In fact, she believed she was performing a public service. Even in her early days, when she founded, edited, wrote for, and published the school paper, The Illuminator ("We have a school paper?" the faculty would go on to say upon seeing the newspaper stands thrown up seemingly overnight, which, in fact, they had), she believed the best truth was an interpreted truth.

Lumen, in her plush office, paced a circuit around the room where a visible wearing of the thick carpet marked the many other occasions she had done this. Around and around she went, quickening or slowing her stride based on the thought she had in her head. At the moment she was moving at a crawl while she tried to figure out just the right way to put her coming article.

As a journalist, Lumen specialized in the inspirational and the tear jerkers. She wouldn't go near scandals or gossip. People knew this. As such, when anything news worthy occurred, no one denied Lumen an interview. She was the reporter everyone wanted, she didn't have to sneak in the bushes for her next story, she wasn't looked down on or called a parasite or ever had her notes torn from her hands and shredded.

Everyone wanted to be seen as a hero. The public also loved heroes. Lumen was happy to fill both of these needs. She made idols and martyrs out of everyone she wrote about even if they didn't quite meet the requirements. It made for a better story and happier public, and it wasn't like she actually outright lied. Just omitted a few things. Sometimes. Or used a few choice adjectives to make things seem a bit more dire. Or describe in detail what a person did instead of just using the proper word for it. That always worked very well in making things seem more exciting.

Unsure hands gripped the metal cylinder. He examined it, looking for any markings that could have stubbornly held on through time and circumstance, but it was stripped clean. There wasn't any indication of what was held within. Was it good? Was it bad? Would he come to regret his decision, which wasn't really a decision at all? A decision implies a certain knowledge of what you are deciding between. This was a guess, and one that could leave him puking his guts out if the cylinder had been exiled here for too long.

See? That was a description of someone trying to guess if a label-less can had gone out of date. Much more interesting.

But back to the journalist walking a hole into her office carpet.

Lumen had written two articles covering the aftermath of the Time Gear crisis. The first she had written to be inspiring, telling of the triumph of Wigglytuff's guild. She made each and every one of them a hero, driving home just how dire the situation was (that didn't need much spicing up- it was close to being the literal end to the world). The second was supposed to be about a martyr.

Oh, she could remember each sentence with perfect clarity. Eevee, the young explorer, a recruit we each owe our lives, proving that greatness can be achieved by any with enough heart... Lumen had done a lot of back ground checking. Truly she could not have asked for a better rise to fame story, and it ended in a perfect tragedy. And still our hero bears the price for our safety, with no respite in sight. The great hero that he is, this reporter is certain he would pay this price again and again if it meant the world was safe from this threat ... A hero whose mind broke from what he saw, who conjured up a completely different person to pile his burdens upon. That was the article Luman had prepared and was waiting for the perfect moment to publish it.

And then it turned out Eevee wasn't delusional, and the Skitty was left kicking herself. She had written about Dusknoir before! Many times! His exploits had been her paycheck for months, and she had just forgotten about him?! So the Eevee article had been scrapped and Dusknoir was the new martyr in this story. He had to be. Lumen didn't do smear jobs, no matter how true they were, and there was no way she would ever try to cast Dusknoir as the villain. She'd get run straight out of town.

Admittedly, it had been a rushed job. Not her best work by far but she needed to get it out as fast as possible before a similar story was in every paper and hers was just one of many. But now was the time to make up for that.

Lumen quickened her pace around the office until she was jogging in circles. Sol! Here, in Ragsport! Lumen had been a bit skeptical when her sources brought her the news. Numerous people fresh into the city claimed to have traveled with her down the road. This easily could have been explained away as an impostor wanting attention. Then Lumen had received some confirmation from a Machoke who said she was in a clinic's waiting room in town. She had received no comment from the staff at said clinic, which was unsurprising, but then there had been multiple Sol sightings all over the city, the details of each lining up with each other almost seamlessly.

A Riolu with blue eyes was wandering the city. She was carrying a staff. An Eevee was with her. They both wore black bandannas. They were arguing over asking for directions. Sol didn't like peppermints.

That last one was a little strange. So was the source who brought Lumen the note. He had attempted a conversation with the two, and had written down what he claimed was what they had said word for word.

M: Hello there! You two look a little lost. Do you need any help?

S: No-

E: Yes-

M: Can't make up your minds, can you?

S: We're fine.

M: Peppermint?

S: What? No. And what do you keep writing down?

M: I need to make sure I don't forget any details. You know how it is.

E: ...

S: ...

What it all came down to was that Sol was in the city and it couldn't have come at a better time. Sol was supposed to be a seer. Maybe she had seen the surely wondrous article Lumen would write. Lumen was waiting for her sources to confirm where Sol was staying, and then it would be up to her to get an interview. A talk with a seer heroine. Lumen was probably already expected. And even if she wasn't, she would still say she had been in her article.

coaster3000: It was a bit of a time jump but I felt like I was dragging things out a bit and needed to get on with the story.

Calculated Whim: Pretty good speculations. No comment on their accuracy, however.