Savoir-faire – To Know and To Do
A/N: Going to Cambodia, so next week won't have an update. Stay tuned, though!
XXXI: Déduire – To Deduce
Day 70 (AM): Amazing, the little degrees of relaxation one can have while executing a well-planned assault. Especially without children to account for.
The moment Altair had flung the children overboard the SS Azur towards safety, Cynthia Shirona and Steven Stone approached our table.
"Mr de Rais, Madame du Bois," Cynthia acknowledged as she approached us. She wore a little black dress in place of her signature trench coat. "Good evening."
Ever the preux chevalier, Wikstrom stood in acknowledgement to bow over Cynthia's hand and then shake hands with Stone. "Bonsoir, Madame Shirona, Monsieur Stone. Comment allez-vous ?"
" Bien, merci. " Stone and I shook hands, before Cynthia and I shook hands. His accent was atrocious; he must have picked it up from Jumpluff Lingo. "Et vous?"
" Comme ci, comme ça, " I answered. "Did you enjoy the exhibits, monsieur et madame ?"
"Oh, yes," Stone nodded. "Seeing the Couronne de l'Arbre was very enjoyable. Nine stones cut into cabochons and set into a single coronet, the largest portable collection of every known evolutionary stone of medieval eras. Is the Everstone set within?"
"It is, or so I've read," I agreed. "The symbolism of the crown was supposed to represent the unchanging state in the face of the world's facets. It was unsuccessful, but it did produce a pretty historical trinket in the end."
"Really?" Cynthia commented. "I was more absorbed in Monsieur de Rais's donation of documents regarding Jeanne la Pucelle. I understand that they have not been translated?"
"There is a Spiritomb in guard over the documents, a remnant of an ancestor's curse," Wikstrom explained in a matter-of-fact tone. "From what I have managed to glean, though, I believe that Jeanne d'Arc enjoyed St Honoré cake, the same recipe that was served today aboard the Azur. Did you enjoy it?"
"Very much," Stone agreed. "The food is certainly a bonus to this trip."
"If I may enquire-" I began.
"Of course," Stone inclined his head towards me. "Why did I come to Kalos, yes?"
"Hardly," I shook my head. "Your reasons for travel is yours alone. No, what I wanted to enquire was aboard the Azur."
"Aboard the Azur?"
"The Zapdos funeral must be covered by the press," I commented. "Look, over there. That boy's a journalism major with an internship at the Lumiose Press."
Steven Stone twitched. "I see."
"Morelle Shipping is looking to sell, I understand it," I continued. "Wikstrom, weren't you looking to buy into it?"
"It would be promising," Wikstrom neutrally replied.
"Pardon me." Steven rose. "Ms. Shirona, my excuses. It seems that there is a call I have to make."
Cynthia kept staring at me, even as Steven left. "You're... who are you?"
"Marguerite Linden du Bois," I replied.
"Who are you?" Cynthia insisted, more certain. "You're with that Kalosian girl, aren't you? Daisy Linden, Marguerite Linden du Bois... this is Steven's chance to improve Hoenn's prospects!"
I felt my expression fall into neutrality. The Hoenn region was an embarrassment of paradoxes; with all the resources expected of an archipelago, and lagging behind most regions. As expected of most sea-dwelling communities, the hope for Hoenn's economic revival lay in trade. Air routes were always uncertain, given the migrations of Flying- and Dragon-type Pokémon; sea routes, established sea routes like the one through the Decolore Archipelago to the Azure Bay were rare, and foreign corporations were subject to restrictions. A local company like Morelle Shipping, though...
"If the Kalos League is looking to disrupt Hoenn's prospects, Ever Grande City is not going to back down on this," Cynthia continued. "Lily of the Valley Island will use all of its strength-"
"Go on, then," I riposted. "Of course, you'll risk a potential alliance between the Leagues of Hoenn and Sinnoh being public, prompting the Indigo League to apply sanctions before Unova and Kalos reunite in our traditional alliance, and thus restart the balance of powers that begun the Mondale Wars of the XIX century in the first place."
In my peripheral, I spotted Stone talking into a PokéNav, his expression frustrated and unhappy as he presumably checked the stock exchange. He then made a call, sharp and angry. I turned my head to see Achillée Morelle on his Holo Caster, paling.
Surreptitiously, I sent a message on my own Holo Caster, to my next best friend. My stockbroker was worth every Poké I paid the man. With Morelle's attention focused, I made a wave, catching his eye. An exaggerated wink set the bait; I faked a yawn politely, waiting for Wikstrom to dismiss Cynthia and offer his escort.
" Merci, monsieur, " I replied.
Men were surrounding us loosely, waiting for when I stepped out. Instead, I found Steven Stone, homing onto the hunchbacked figure by a lone table.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"I am here to help you," I laced my fingers. "Let us talk about angels, M. Stone. Specifically, let us discuss Morelle Shipping."
"I am going to kill him," I spoke to nothing in particular. It didn't change anything. Altair, and more tangentially Dr du Bois, had still thrown us overboard the Azur.
Under me, Jelly burbled. Léa was perched on top of the bloody beast, shaken but otherwise rather unharmed, soaking wet with Pumpkaboo floating above. Serena was like me, clinging onto her Wartortle for dear life. Our Water-type Pokémon had hit the water at the same time we had landed and bounced on Jelly, thankfully saving us a lot of pain as we trod water, floating behind the ship.
"She planned this," I realised.
"Who did?" scowled Serena. "I have salt and seaweed in unmentionable places now."
"She was always going to fling Léa overboard," I frowned. "Or something; she threw Jelly overboard not to let this menace feed on other Pokémon, but to get to us."
"Whatever," Serena cursed.
"Are you guys alright?" Léa sniffed.
"We're fine," I glared at the Plimsolls painted onto the boat; it seemed to mock me, hovering above the sea level as it did. "You, Léa?"
"F- Fine," Léa shakily drew a breath. "Was this planned?"
"Not with us."
"G- Good," Léa nodded, before a purple flare erupted from her fingers, bright in the gloom over the sea. "Is this D- Dr du Bois?"
"Yeah," I sighed.
"Fro, fro," mumbled Frogadier.
"Yes. She's a bit... tough."
Léa nodded. "I am going to kill her."
Serena opened her mouth, and that was when a series of gunshots went off. Some splashes followed, and as I looked up, I saw Siebold calmly and decisively fling some guy off of the sea to hit the water quickly. His head bobbed before he swore, the unknown man falling as the silhouettes of various Sharpedo started on him.
"...never mind," Serena decided.
I was in a good mood. There was a spring in my step. I danced with Wikstrom, had a good time, and walked out just as Morelle's guards started to gather on me.
Running from a horde of Pawniard was harder than expected. Murkrow hovered nearby, and the howls of Houndoom were physically painful to my hearing. I stumbled, and a man in black nearly caught me before steel flashed and the man let go.
Twirling his knife, Siebold kicked, head-butted, and then defenestrated the man into the Azure Bay. "I'll hold them off here."
"Thank you." I stumbled past the decks and into cramped hallways, hallways were two Houndoom and their minders accosted me later.
"Come with us," they said.
I was about to call my own when Ramos tapped one shoulder. The minder looked back with a snarl, faced a pair of giant shears, and then Ramos used the shears to knock him out.
"If you don't mind," he bowed.
I started when a Weepinbell dropped onto the second guard before spores scattered around, and held my breath. The minder fell asleep with his Pokémon. The pair of Houndoom began to fall asleep too, and that was when the silvery powder took on a purplish tinge that was Poison Powder.
"Thank you," I nodded to the Coumarine Gym Leader, running still, towards the largest public space on the entire ship, the one where the Zapdos corpse would be parked, in preparation of the largest burial of a non-Trained Pokémon open to the public.
The exhibition hall held low-hanging lights when I entered it through its side entrances. The coffin took pride of place, lying closed. Either side of the Zapdos corpse lay the valuables of Kalos; the Couronne de l'Arbre , the Kalosian monarchy's regalia, glittered on its right. On its left was the box containing documents from the first Baron de Rais, the kind used for keeping loose documents before the invention of codices and to prevent curvature damage from scrolling a work. Here, I also found Achillée Morelle.
"It's over," I started.
Achillée Morelle jumped, looking at me with wide eyes. "Dr du Bois! Why, I thought you had met with a tragic accident at sea."
"Your men had a tragic accident with Siebold," I answered. "You aren't doing this deliberately, I understand."
"Of course you do. You did ruin my business with Devon Corporation, after all," Achillée tilted his head. "Is this the part where I explain to you my plan?"
"Don't bother," I answered. "I don't care."
"Yet you intervened so much to save my estranged niece from merciful death," Morelle answered, the thinness of his face harrowing in the dimness played off from the Couronne. "One would think that you have a saviour complex."
"Perhaps," I agreed. "I have a fundamental disapproval of plans that require the murder of a relative. She could have been your heir, you know."
"What for?" Morelle laughed. "I have no son, no heirs. There's no need to prepare for the future. Merely to enjoy my power, and gain more, though my loyal servant fell at last."
"Your loyal-?" I blinked. "The Zapdos?"
"With resources like the ones behind the Morelle, we tamed a Zapdos and set it loose on specific Trainers," Morelle smirked. "Getting the lost of Trainers who had graduated from the Tower of Mastery was a daunting task, but we managed it with Korrina none the wiser. Of course, once I learned that the Couronne de l'Arbre was present, I needed to find for myself the clé du voûte."
"Mega Evolution," I realised. "You want the power of Mega Evolution. The Morelle and the Goutte-du-Sang would have had a rivalry, never mind that Lierre and Morelle have an ongoing rivalry stemming from historical distrust."
Morelle clapped his hands slowly. "As expected of Professor Sycamore's associate. However, did you know this? The Kalosian crown, this one, is said to contain the key that unlocks the secret of Mega Evolution. The largest key ever found in the world naturally. Once the Couronne reaches Hoenn, and I disappear amidst the crowd in Lilycove, I will have unlocked the key."
"The world's largest Key Stone," I murmured.
"Yes, but first-" Morelle overturned the document box of Gilles de Rais. It bounced, shadows grew, and as the lights flickered, I saw it forming.
Haunter appeared, trying to drag me off, defend it from me, anything. Phantump was whimpering, eating Sitrus and Lum Berries and so on as they felt the pressure rising, the scope of fine control lost for the briefest of moments due to the mistake of one truly stupid man. The box had split; the Odd Keystone broken off.
Morelle was screaming; I ignored him to scoop up the box. It was large, of wood, the grain unseen under the lacquer but the scratchings clear, I could feel them as tiny notes. Bar lines, clefs, notes-
"Music?" I picked up the box. "Who writes music all over their notes?"
It was framed, I realised; the lines were barely perceivable in light, but the lacquer made their appearance to touch all the more vivid. I focused, wondering why would anyone frame their notes this way.
Morelle's screaming cut off, and I realised that the spectre of Brocken was expanding in my direction. I tried to flee, but my legs had sunk down, unmoving and rooted.
Haunter howled, and Phantump lingered. There were babies, they couldn't move. I couldn't leave them.
I would never leave. It hovered.
Marguerite! Darkrai howled mentally, somewhere far away where I had mandated him to take down the rest of Morelle's guards with Donar's father. Marguerite! Don't die!
Magnesium burned, the strontium ions colouring it red though it passed harmlessly through an ethereal body. It loomed, murderous and angry and unfettered now.
I clutched at the box. It was foolish, I know. A wish as foolish as yelling, when death was imminent...
The Spiritomb reared back, waiting, its presence not unlike a coiled snake.
… like a prayer. The song was a prayer, a hymn.
I had solved a mystery on less evidence and luck than I had gotten. There was nothing left but to try the absurd, to hope that the decision to carve the musical notation of a hymn was not mere vanity on the part of Gilles de Rais, but a vital portion of taming the Spiritomb.
So my lips parted as I read the difficult notation, ignoring all of them to focus only upon the words that tripped off of my tongue.
They were strange, and yet familiar... like some trance had overtaken me. I was fully aware of what I was doing, though unsure as to the reason.
Fleurissent, les fleurs sauvages,
je te prie de m'en laisser voir la fin...
Des personnes sans âge,
se battent comme si c'était bien...
La vie, n'est pas infinie...
Je suis telle une fleur digne,
Que voyez-vous à partir de là?
Pourquoi les gens disent-ils,
qu'ils ne peuvent vivre sans signe?
Moi, je pense que, cela arrivera...
Quand la pluie d'été terminée,
Je n'oublie pas le passé,
Tu n'es pas seul avec toi-même.
Je me souviens de ton désarroi,
tremblant juste en face de moi,
Laissant, crier à l'intérieur ta peine...!
So this is the key, I reflected as shadows seemed to scatter in the lighting of the ship's exhibition hall. The key was written upon the vessel it was meant to protect, meant only for the eyes of Marshall Gilles de Rais. Gilles de Rais... he who loved Her Serene Highness, that even in death his words seemed to echo her wishes. Such arrogance, and such... devotion.
So that was where Wikstrom got it from.
The shadows clung onwards, though the hymn seemed to have calmed them. It trapped me there, the pages held within its flimsy vessel scattered to an ominous wind. Spiritomb laughed, its voice... not sinister, even for a Ghost as I mumbled through the words.
L'esprit foudroyé, te conduit à la mort,
Inutiles sont, les larmes jetées sur ton sort!
Les feuilles tombent sur tes secrets,
Tu t'éloignes, mais tu le sais,
Souviens-toi de ce que je disais...
Quand le soleil d'été est caché,
le vent va à nouveau chercher,
tout ce qui peut te ressembler.
Je chanterai à ta mémoire,
je te regarde sans te voir.
Ton nom est perdu, mais je chante...
Pour toi...
Euterpe recognised, a voice echoed in my head as the Odd Keystone fell from its setting and into my hand, surprisingly light. Pokémon telepathy...? Welcome back, madame. Monsieur has left me guarding his words to return to you.
The Spiritomb must date back towards the Century War, making it about seven hundred years old at minimum. It is senile. It must be.
– Marguerite Linden du Bois
The lyrics are written by Poucet, also featured on her YouTube channel as the French version of Euterpe, originally by Egoist.
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