Chapter Fifteen

The Making of Master Lynnet

Verdant Park wasn't much of a real park in any respect. It consisted mostly of a rundown playground, two scraggly moth-eaten trees, and a tiny sandbox stuffed away in one corner. Still, it drew children that were too young to be allowed into the Stadium like Beedril to a trove of honey.

Master Rhys Phillips was fifteen, far older than the majority of park frequenters. But Rhys had a penchant for bringing his Ringed team to the city park as an occasional treat. For several hours every month, Ringed and Master would mingle freely over park grounds, chatting and playing games together.

Xander hated every minute of these little visits. Not only did it mean missing out on important meetings with Cro and the others, but just being in the park itself was degrading. Swings and slides were for three year-olds. And that, Xander knew, was how Rhys had always viewed his Ringed.

"Hey, how's it going?" came Rhys's voice suddenly.

Shaken from his thoughts, Xander's head jerked up. Gazing through his long messy bangs, he became aware of the swing he was sitting on and the playground around him once more.

Casual as you please, Rhys grabbed an adjacent swing and hopped into it. For a minute, he swung back and forth as quietly as Xander, watching Bucephalus the Rapidash and another Ringed, a lively Sandslash, playing a game of tag.

"Looks fun, doesn't it?" Rhys asked, indicating the two Ringed with a jerk of his head. "Want to see if they'll let us play with them?"

Xander's knuckles grew white as he tightened his hold around the swing's metal chains. Rolling his eyes, he shook his head once, then twice.

"Hey, you're not upset about losing last night's match, are you?"

Unable to help himself, Xander stared at Rhys indignantly. You're the Master, he wanted to retort. What do I care about the fights you pick?

But it was too late to talk back. Rhys had hit his stride, and he wasn't backing out.

"Listen, Xander," Rhys was saying, smiling what he obviously thought was a friendly grin. "Winning's great, but it's not everything. All I care about is that you did your best. You put up a great fight, and I'm proud of you."

So what? Xander thought inwardly. That was a common mistake, thinking that all the Ringed cared about was trying to please their Masters. Sighing, he turned his head away from Rhys and waited for his Master's speech to end.

"And anyway, we've still got that huge Festival tournament coming up in three days," Rhys continued. "If we win that one, I'll take you all out for ice cream! If we don't win, well…I'll still get everyone ice cream! How does that sound?"

Xander didn't want to answer that. He kept his head lowered and stared at the ground, wishing irritably that Rhys would just give up for once and go away.

"Even if we get last place!" Rhys announced loudly. "Last place or first place, none of that matters at all! All of us'll just get out there and give it our all. Okay with you, Xander?"

The Psychic boy sighed as Rhys's bright blue eyes lit up in a grin. [It's sad to see you try sometimes.]

"That's right. All you have to do is go out there and try," Rhys said, not catching the sarcasm in Xander's voice at all. "And no matter how you do, remember, you still get ice cream!"

[Wow, ice cream,] Xander remarked dryly. [With sprinklies, too?]

"Sprinklies, too," Rhys agreed, still oblivious to Xander's drippingly sardonic tone. "Lots and lots of them!"

[I was kidding!] Xander exploded in frustration. [I didn't really mean that! Please don't tell me you actually thought I meant that!]

Rhys, however, seemed to have gone temporarily deaf. "Hey, you don't mind if I go play tag with the others, do you?" he broke in suddenly.

Xander sighed, not even knowing why he tried anymore.

Mistaking Xander's grimace for a grin, Rhys gave him a pat on the shoulder and leapt out of his swing. Looking incredibly pleased for having cheered one of his Ringed up, the lively young Master started towards his Rapidash and Sandslash, clamoring to play in their game, too.

Xander had always hated the obviously cruel Masters who beat their Ringed for messing up a task or not working hard enough. Vixory's Master was like that, which was probably part of the reason Vixory itself was so brash at times. And then there were the annoying incompetent Masters, like Cro's Himeka Madison, who'd drive you half-crazy with their constant nagging.

Xander supposed he should've considered himself lucky. Rhys wasn't cruel or bratty or stupid. He honestly seemed to care about his Ringed and went out of his way to make sure they were treated well. But even Rhys, kind as he tried and tried to be, couldn't manage to regard his Ringed as true equals. To him, Ringed were no more than amusing pets to be patronized, but not, not ever, real people worthy of independence and equality.

That, more than anything, had been the reason Xander had joined Cro. Not because he really hated his Master, not because he resented the history of Masters in general, but because that was the only way to make them truly understand.

I wish it weren't, Xander thought as he watched Rhys's retreating back. Not everybody'll deserve what might happen to them. Not by a long shot.

But then, we never deserved what happened to us, either.

As the voluminous blue dress descended over her head, Lynn seriously thought to say something in protest. She'd already put up with Lark and Ruemarie cutting her hair, dunking her in ice cold water, and tearing mercilessly at her scalp with their sharp combs. Now she was suffocating within a sea of thick cloth. Screwing up her face, Lynn opened her mouth…

And inhaled a deep breath of air as her head popped out.

"It's absolutely darling!" Ruemarie enthused, straightening some wrinkles in the cloth with a quick pat. "You look like a little angel!"

"Not too bad," Lark told Lynn as she tied a red ribbon around Lynn's waist, and another one in her hair. "There! Go take a look at yourself."

Lynn did not want to look cute. She did not want to see whatever "little angel" Ruemarie and Lark had transformed her into. But any remnants of power had already been swiped out of her hands. Gritting her teeth, Lynn stepped up to the water basin and peered reluctantly in. The distorted image of her own face greeted her. Backing up, Lynn could make out the basic style of the dress she wore in the water: mostly sky-blue, with a white apron front and short puffy sleeves. The ribbon in her hair had been looped around several times, creating a large and flimsy-looking bow. Ruemarie had been right. The entire outfit screamed candy-coated adorableness. Lynn fervently hoped that her old clothes hadn't been thrown away.

If Lark and Ruemarie had done one thing right, though, it was the hair. Once knotted and matted, it was now clean and glossy, curling around Lynn's face just below the chin. She bent over to get a closer look and promptly tripped over the edge of her new dress.

"Careful," Lark said, steadying Lynn before she could fall into the tub. "The hem's a bit long, but it's the best we could get. Like it?"

Despite her misgivings, the looks on Lark's and Ruemarie's faces were so proud and expectant that Lynn couldn't manage to disappoint them. "It's very nice," she replied, slapping on a small smile. "Thanks for going to all the trouble."

"It was no big deal," Lark answered with a grin. "We've got connections all over the place. It was easy to get one or two of them to loan us stuff."

"Not just that," Lynn said. "You, both of you. Coming here and helping me to…um, look nice. I really…uh, well, thank you."

As jumbled up as Lynn's words were, both Ruemarie and Lark seemed to take her intended meaning to heart. "You're a sweetheart," Ruemarie murmured, patting Lynn affectionately on the knee.

"You're welcome, Lynn," was Lark's reply. "Cro asked me to take you around the city today. Nothing real big, just to see how you do playing the part of a Master."

Lynn shook her head. The wind had started up again, and it was blowing through her new dress, sending parts of it billowing up around her legs. Again, Lynn wondered why people couldn't all wear pants. It was so much more practical.

"You'll need a name," Ruemarie was musing. "Something Masterly, with an air of authority about it."

"But I have a name," Lynn said confusedly. "It's Lynnet of the Verdant Forest."

Lark snapped her fingers. "How about Lynnet Versylva? 'Ver' from Verdant, 'sylva' from 'sylvan,' which means forest spirit. Do you like it, Lynn?"

"I-I guess. But what's wrong with my old name?" Lynn asked, perplexed.

"Just that most people don't go around saying that they're from forests."

Ruemarie had to rush back for her shop's afternoon shift shortly afterward, so it was Lark who Lynn followed through the passages beneath the Stadium. The older girl's strides were quick and long, and Lynn had to hurry in order to keep up. She tripped quite a few times on the uneven floor, and even more on the hem of her new dress. Finally, Lark took Lynn's hand firmly in her own and guided her the rest of the way out.

Upon emerging from the tunnels, Lynn blinked, not only at the sunlight, but at the familiar sight around her. Lark's route had brought them back to the train station.

Lark noted Lynn's stare with a smile. "In the old days, way before the Masters," she explained, "a big thievery ring used to have their headquarters in this city. They were responsible for building a lot of these old tunnels." The smile widened into a grin as Lark bent forward and whispered in Lynn's ear. "Over the years, we Ringed have taken the liberty of…extending some of those tunnels. We've got a network under the entire city."

Before Lynn could summon a reply, the older girl was extracting Lynn's former Gold Berry from a pocket. "Here's your first test," she informed Lynn briskly, depositing the gem-like fruit in Lynn's palm. "You're the one responsible for selling this trinket, as well as putting on the appearance that you're a full-fledged Master. Understand?"

"I-I guess, but I don't…"

Lark shot her a dazzling smile. "Trust me, you'll do fine," she said, grabbing Lynn by the arm and dragging her into the crowd.

Bodies pressed up against Lynn in one overwhelming flood, bodies covered in cloth, fur, leathery hide, and even scales. Overhead rang roars, laughs, and a veritable cacophony of other noises that made Lynn's head spin. She thought she felt her bones rattling as she was jostled from side to side, even losing her balance as a stray Cubone scuttled past her foot.

Just when she was positive that she'd fall and be trampled to death, Lynn felt herself being jerked through the crush of people and Pokémon. Looking breathlessly up, she saw they'd reached the edge of a long sidewalk. All along the concrete's length stood a row of buildings with large glass fronts. Some of them even had strange symbols drawn on them, similar to the ones Lynn had seen on Mother Woodwort's cloth and the train station sign.

Lark took the both of them to the very end of the line and showed Lynn a quaint little building half-hidden by the larger ones around it. Through the glass, Lynn glimpsed a display of painted figurines, strange rusted contraptions, and other unfamiliar odds and ends. With a push, Lark urged her towards the building's door.

"Just show the dealer the Berry and act natural," she whispered in Lynn's ear. "Remember, you're a Master! Just remember to be confident, and start the bargaining high. Like…let's see…" She then named a number that Lynn, even knowing very little of money, found impossibly large.

"Are you sure?" Lynn wanted to ask, but Lark had already pushed her through the door. It swung open with a breezy chime, forcing Lynn to abandon her conversation and step inside.

As soon she'd gotten a foot in, though, Lynn stumbled over a stack of boxes. And it wasn't just from her usual nerve-induced clumsiness. The building consisted only of one room, which was small, cluttered, and poorly lit. At the back stood a tall counter and display case. Lynn started towards it, holding onto the hem of her too-long skirt.

A draft brushed the back of her neck, accompanied by a feather-light touch on her shoulder. Turning around, Lynn saw that the door was still closed, and Lark was nowhere in sight. "H-hello?" she called out uncertainly. "Hello?"

Her eyes darted around, falling at last on the display case in front of her. Several small statues rested inside the case on separate velvet pedestals. Getting to her knees, Lynn peered in through narrowed eyes.

There were three statues, each a miniature of some fantastical-looking beast. One was of a creature with thick brown fur, its mask-like red and gold face contorted in a howl. Another, a golden beast with a billowing cloud atop its back, bore dark lightning-bolt streaks across its flanks. Lynn had never seen either one in her entire life. Frowning, she inched over to the very last statue, which stood at the far end of the case. She squinted, staring inside…

…and let out a yelp of horror.

It was the red-eyed demon that had attacked her for the Rainbow Wing, staring aloofly back in miniature.

"I see you like my statue of Suicune, young one," rumbled a raspy voice. "An ancient Pokémon god, Suicune is. Ruled over water and ice, and was said to roam the world as the north wind."

Jumping to her feet, Lynn gasped as a tendril of silk fell to the ground, followed by the withered body of an elderly Ariados. He scuttled behind the counter, all eight of his legs navigating the messy room with ease. "You may call me Scarbos," the Ariados said with a deep bow. "And what brings you to my humble shop?"

Despite the amiability of Scarbos's voice, the old Ariados still gave Lynn the creeps. Suppressing a shiver, she gulped out a rather garbled explanation and quickly held out the Gold Berry.

Scarbos eyed it critically through his bulging eyes. The mottled markings on his legs were, Lynn noticed, just as dull as the rest of the shop.

"Now where did a child like yourself chance upon something like this?" Scarbos said at last. "I have seen a Gold Berry only once before in my entire lifetime. And that has been quite a while."

Lynn gulped again. The shop owner's enormous, unblinking eyes seemed to fixate themselves on her face. Nervously, she fiddled with the ribbon in her hair and tried not to make eye contact. "It's…from the forest," she said at last, with the sinking feeling that she was saying something she should not.

"Ah, the forest." Scarbos's gaze did not leave Lynn's face. "There used to be Berry trees all over, you know. I can still remember. Then the cities started growing, and the trees started dying. Some were very unhappy with this change, I recall. They left the cities to live in the forests, just as they claimed our ancestors did long ago."

A drop of cold sweat trickled down Lynn's neck. "D-do you…think they're still there, then?" she whispered, unconsciously taking a step backwards.

"Perhaps," Scarbos replied vaguely. "And perhaps they have tired of forest life and returned to the cities, hmm?"

There was a crash as Lynn tripped over a stack of boxes behind her. Papers went flying in every direction. "Sorry," she squeaked, coughing in the ensuing cloud of dust. "I didn't mean to…"

"Quite alright," Scarbos interrupted her, extending one hairy forelimb to catch an airborne sheet. "Just hand me that paper lying right there, the one marked 'Ledger.' "

Helplessly, Lynn stared at the mess before her. Head reeling in panic, she grabbed one sheet, then an entire handful, and shoved the whole lot hastily onto Scarbos's counter.

The Ariados's eyes narrowed musingly. "Why, you poor dear. No one ever taught you to read, did they? I had another customer once, with the same problem. Coincidentally, that same customer also tried to sell me one of those rare Gold Berries. Perhaps he and you are related?"

Lynn cringed at the sarcasm in his voice. He knows, she thought, horrified at the unintended slip-up. He knows I'm not a real Master. Though her first thought was to run, something stronger kept her rooted shakily in place. Maybe it was fear at what Cro and Lark and the others would do if she returned empty-handed, or determination at not screwing up the first job she'd been entrusted with. Whatever it was, it made Lynn look Old Scarbos in the eye at last.

"Since they're so rare, I hope you wouldn't mind paying me a reasonable amount for this Gold Berry," she said. As she named Lark's price, the authority in her own voice shocked even her.

Scarbos, too, seemed surprised by Lynn's sudden boldness. "Very well," he replied.

Lynn's eyes widened as Scarbos took the Berry from her hand and deposited a stack of light green slips in its place. Had it really been this easy all along?

When Lynn emerged from the shop several minutes later, Lark was waiting just around the corner. Seeing the money in Lynn's hand, she gave a whoop of joy and hugged the younger girl. "Attagirl, Lynn! I knew you could handle it!"

Despite all her previous inhibitions, Lynn found herself breaking into a shaky smile. "Th-thanks, Lark," she whispered, awkwardly handing the other girl the loose bills. A few of the flimsy slips fell through her sweaty fingers. They fluttered to the ground, only to be swept several yards further by a stray wind.

Lark laughed as a consternated Lynn awkwardly scrambled forward to retrieve them, nearly tripping over the hem of her dress. "I think you're getting the hang of being a Master," Lark said, leaning back as she grinned at the younger girl. "Soon you'll be more than ready to meet Princess Himeka."

"Ah!" This time, Lynn tripped for real, landing right on her behind in the middle of the street. "Um, I-I don't know," she squeaked out, feeling incredibly silly yet again. "From what I've heard, Himeka seems really…picky about…her friends. I-I'm not very good at making friends." Lynn swallowed, vividly remembering the other children in the forest, who had either mocked or ignored her very existence.

"I'm…not very good…at being around other people," she finished lamely.

Lark laughed again at Lynn's worry-filled words. "Himeka may be an obnoxious brat," the older girl replied with a wry grin, "but she's easy to figure out. Seriously, if you spend even just an hour watching Himeka, you'll know practically everything about her. Here, I'll show you what I mean."

Eyes darting to the digital clock in a nearby store window, Lark indicated the display with a jab of her finger. "It's almost one o' clock." She shot Lynn what looked disconcertingly like a Cheshire Cat smile. "Follow me."