Wanderer

by Renaerys

Disgraced and ashamed, Alain drifts in self-imposed exile in the wake of a personal failure. But not all those who wander are lost, and those who listen may find something they never knew they were searching for. [Realistic Pokemon AU, post-Mega Evolution Specials]

5. Chapter 5

Wanderer
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon

---

When Calem woke up, he was groggy, his head felt like someone had stuck a bike pump in his ear and inflated his head, and he had a ravenous thirst like he'd never had before. Dark eyes, bleary from sleep and whatever drugs were coursing through his system, opened slowly and he looked around. The room he was in was white with textured ceiling tiles you could trace patterns in for hours like constellations in the stars. He was in a bed, a gurney with metal railings, and thick blankets covered him up to his chest. His arms, however, were each heavily bandaged and suspended in slings attached to pulleys set up on either side of his bed. An IV tube fed him a faintly glowing, orange liquid. A thick bandage had been taped over the entire left side of his face and over his eye, and it stung when he moved his mouth and cheek.

Calem tried to sit up, but the slings holding up his arms made it hard. The pulleys squeaked, and his bed groaned under his weight. The sound woke the person snoozing in the uncomfortable, wooden chair in the corner.

"Calem, you're awake." Sycamore stifled a yawn and got up out of the chair.

"Professor? What's going on? Where am I?"

Sycamore smiled a little and laid his hand over Calem's forehead. His prayer beads clinked as they shifted along his forearm. Something else clinked to Calem's right, and Klefki, looking equally as sleepy as Sycamore, floated into his line of sight. It began to squeak and jingle its key collection as it hovered.

"Klefki's been here with you the whole time," Sycamore said, eyeing the small Pokémon. "I tried getting him back into his Pokéball, but he refused to return. He's been very worried about you."

Calem tried to sit up again, and Sycamore pressed a hand gently against his chest.

"Hey, take it easy now. You're still healing."

"What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

Calem tried to think, but his mind was sluggish from the drugs dulling the pain of his injuries, and he coughed. Sycamore retrieved a glass from the nightstand and filled it with water from a plastic jug. Calem eagerly gulped it down when offered, spilling some on his chest over the hospital gown he wore. It alleviated some of the pain in his parched throat.

"What's the last thing you can remember?" Sycamore asked when Calem finished drinking.

He tried to focus. His arms flared with pain all of a sudden, and he hissed. Sycamore reached for him, concerned.

"I remember...burning. That woman..." His eyes widened. "Serena. She took Serena!"

He tried to sit up again, and Sycamore eased him back against the bed. "Okay, okay, I know you're feeling anxious, but I need you to stay calm. You're safe now."

"Me? What about Serena? That crazy woman took her!"

"I know, Grace told me what happened when she brought you to the lab."

"Lab? Are we in Lumiose?"

Sycamore nodded. "Grace called me in the middle of the night last night and told me what had happened. I arranged for you to be airlifted out here since the clinic in Vaniville wasn't equipped to treat your burns. Calem." He paused, searching Calem's eyes as a wave of concern passed through him. "Your burns were nearly bone-deep, much worse than third degree. I'm not a medical doctor, but from what the doctor explained to me, it's like your arms came into contact with molten lava. You nearly died from the shock, not to mention the blood loss."

Calem tried to listen to what Sycamore was saying. Died? Lava?

"If Grace hadn't called me when she did, we could have lost you."

Calem swallowed hard. He didn't know what to say.

"Here's what's going on," Sycamore went on gently. "You're in my lab here in Lumiose. I've had a doctor and a nurse on call here to treat you, but they say you'll recover. That's Burn Heal in the IV." He nodded to the IV stand. "They've refilled it three times now. It's going to take a couple days for the wounds to heal, but they'll heal and you'll be back to yourself again. The doctor even said you'd be up and about as early as this evening if you rest today.

"Your parents are out of town, but I sent word to them. Your mother's in Laverre, so I'm hoping she'll be able to return soon, but I sent your father on fieldwork to Geosenge a few days ago, so he may not get my message right away. But either way, you're in my care now, and I promise I'm doing everything I can to help you make a full and speedy recovery, okay?"

Calem nodded numbly. "Yeah, okay."

"Now, I know you're tired and probably a little woozy from all the Burn Heal, but I need to know if you can remember anything from your encounter with this woman who abducted Serena. Did she say anything that might tell us who she is, where she came from? Maybe what she wanted with Serena?"

Calem lay back in bed and tried to remember. Klefki jingled near his ear, its beady eyes downcast as it floated forlornly overhead.

"...She was Ignifera," he said finally.

"Ignifera, good. That explains the burns, but I've never seen them so bad before. She must be a particularly powerful Ignifera."

"She said I should know my place."

Sycamore sighed and rubbed his temples. "Calem, I know it may feel like you failed, but you didn't. You couldn't have predicted this would happen, and you weren't prepared for it. No one was. You were alone out there with a severe type disadvantage and no one who could viably back you up. Please don't blame yourself."

Calem barely heard him as memories of the previous night's harrowing battle came back to him, slowly at first and now flooding his mind, pushing through the haze of the drugs in his system. Talonflame had torn Escavalier's helmet off and gorged itself on Escavalier's exposed flesh, then discarded the rest like trash. His visible right eye watered and burned as the anger and shame threatened to spill out.

And Serena...

"Calem," Sycamore said again.

"She knew Serena was a Magus," Calem said. He held Sycamore's gaze. "She knew, Professor."

Sycamore's expression went carefully blank and he got that glint in his eye that meant he was thinking light years ahead, scouring his sharp mind and the vast collection of information he kept up there.

"How could she know? You haven't told anyone, right?"

Sycamore shook his head. "No, never. And I assume you haven't, either. Grace would have no reason to, it's her daughter that was taken. And Alain knew, of course, but he's been gone for years."

Calem narrowed his eye, but Sycamore put up a hand.

"Stop, I know what you're thinking. Titans lie, I know their reputation, but I've known Alain since he was a boy. He wouldn't betray Serena, not when they were so close and it's been so long."

"Well, is there anyone else who knows? Maybe someone found out?"

Sycamore fell quiet, and Calem read his silence. The haze was beginning to clear as he got to thinking about Serena, about what had happened, his monumental failure.

"Professor," he pressed.

"...My personal assistant, Dexio," Sycamore relented. "But I've known him for years, and he's always been loyal to me, even when my colleagues thought I was a crackpot chasing Fairies. He was always supporting me through the worst of it. He would never..."

Calem's blood boiled, the ache in his arms and face nugatory as he began to jump to conclusions. "Where is he?"

"Hold on there, cowboy. Dexio knows about Serena, but he's been extremely helpful with her and all my research for as long as I've known him. I just can't believe he would sell her out. No, it had to be something else, a leak perhaps."

Calem was not convinced. "I can't believe you'd have a leak, unless it was through someone who already knew the secret. And right now, my money's on Alain or Dexio."

Sycamore gave Calem a withering look. "Look, we'll discuss this more when you're feeling better."

"I'm feeling fine. Get me out of these things." Calem tugged on the slings.

"Not a chance. You're going to recover here until dinner, then we'll see what the doctor says about it."

"I said I'm fine, I can take the pain."

Sycamore frowned, and there was ice in his tone when he spoke next. "You're not fine. And I'm not going to be the one to explain to your parents that you overexerted yourself and ended up making your near fatal injuries worse. So you're going to stay in that bed and get some sleep or I'll have the nurse put you under to force you. Am I clear?"

Calem groaned and lay back in bed. "Yeah, yeah, I got it."

"Good. I've got some work to do so I'll have to head out for a bit, but I wanted to let you know that I took Aegislash and Bisharp to the Pokémon Center. Bisharp was pretty beat up, but Nurse Joy said she would make a full recovery in a couple days."

Calem averted his gaze as he thought about Escavalier. "Yeah, thanks Professor."

Sycamore laid a hand on Calem's shoulder. "I'm so sorry about Escavalier," he said softly. "I know how close you were."

Calem said nothing, and Sycamore let his hand fall.

"Please try to rest. The sooner you get better, the sooner we can get to the bottom of this and get Serena back."

Sycamore excused himself from the small room and closed the door behind him. Klefki remained and hovered over Calem's head, its keys swaying.

"Rest, huh?" Calem said. "I guess that's all I'm good for now."

Klefki squeaked, its jeweled heart pulsing faintly as it peered down at Calem.

"I'll get her back," he vowed. "I don't care what it takes, I'll find her."

The Burn Heal in his IV dripped slowly, soothing his roasted arms and lulling him back into the haze, where he replayed that fight in his mind over and over, searching for a way he could have won. He found none.

---

It had been two days since Alain confided his story to Korrina, and they had not spoken of it since. Not to each other, not to Gurkinn, not to anyone. She'd gone to bed that night reeling and a little lightheaded. She'd never expected him to be straight with her, come clean about what he was really up to, and in retrospect she felt ashamed at how surprised she'd been when he started talking. Titans were liars, master manipulators out for themselves and nobody else.

But Alain had told her the truth, and now she understood why it had been so hard for him. Why he'd chosen the life of a vanither rather than stay loyal to the clan. Why he took all her suspicious allegations, her sour demeanor when he'd arrived, the brutal training to which she'd subjected him without mercy these past months. Gurkinn had been right all along. Alain was wandering, adrift with nowhere to go, nowhere but here. He was searching for something, and until now Korrina hadn't cared much whether he found it or not, waiting for him to reveal his true colors and disappoint Gurkinn and her like so many others had before him.

But he told her the truth, and she did not know what to do about it.

Now, as she stood in Training Room Eight after hours opposite Lucario, she was lost in thought and a little cold in her workout clothes. Lucario, long ears up and alert, watched her with steady, red eyes.

"Why are you torturing yourself?"

Lucario yipped, startling Korrina out of her thoughts, and she laid a hand on its shoulder. Alain didn't understand. That wasn't his fault, but it didn't change the fact that he didn't get it, he didn't know.

You could tell him, a voice in her head whispered.

She could tell him. She could tell him everything. She could trust him, take a chance, and hope he wouldn't change his mind about her. But Korrina had learned a long time ago that hope was for shit if you didn't have the force of strength and will to turn it into reality. Her Gym trainers didn't come here to have hope, they came to become strong. This was the real world. Prayers to invisible gods went unanswered, people were all selfish at heart, and the only person you could really depend on was yourself.

What about Grandpa? the voice prodded her.

"Grandpa already did more than anyone should ever have to," she said aloud, eyes far away.

Lucario blinked up at her and swished its tail as she scratched it behind the ear absently.

Had Alain been selfish when he told her the truth? Wasn't he here to learn, totally dependent on her expertise and Gurkinn's wisdom to pull himself out of the hole he'd fallen into? Korrina didn't follow any religion or believe in any gods, only in what she could see and touch and knock down with her two fists. And the last time she'd believed in anyone other than Gurkinn, she ended up in the hospital for three knee surgeries and woke up alone in the world, just twelve years old. Around the same time Alain would have left the Apep Dynasty, now that she thought about it. Also alone. Wandering. Drifting, like her.

It's different.

Lucario yipped again and butted her chest with its cold snout. Korrina frowned down at it.

"It is different," she insisted like a child.

Lucario merely stared, letting her draw her own conclusions.

"Don't look at me like that."

She went to the mini fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, but she wasn't thirsty. Lucario sat down on its haunches and yawned.

"Why is it different?" she whispered.

I don't know.

Her muscles ached, but not from the exertion. She'd been sparring with Lucario today, but now the desire was no longer there. There was only the itch, the need to hit something. Before she could stop herself, she crushed the water bottle in her hand and spilled icy water all over her bare feet.

"Shit!"

She jumped back, surprised by the cold, and grumbled under her breath. Lucario continued to watch her, silent.

"Seriously, stop looking at me like that."

She downed what little was left of the water bottle, and then wiped up the mess on the floor with a paper towel. The weight room was empty right now, and the heavy punching bag swung just slightly on its well-oiled chain. Yeah, fine. That would do for a quick fix.

Recalling Lucario, Korrina headed into the weight room, ran through some stretches, and then began pummeling the punching bag. She moved fast, delivering a swift uppercut then spinning for a roundhouse, then jabbing left, right, a surprise knee to the gut, punch again. Again, again, again. The adrenaline built up under her skin, got her blood pumping, and her muscles sang as she gave them the release they needed. Almost.

The punching bag didn't retch, didn't fall back. There was no pleasing crunch of bone, no slap of skin, and most of all, there was no return, no retaliation, no counter attack. Korrina punched harder, faster, her bangs damp with sweat and sticking to her forehead, her clothes sticky, the deodorant she'd applied earlier wearing off.

"Hit me," she ground out, letting another punch fly.

The punching bag swung precariously on its chain, and Korrina lunged after it with a mean uppercut, then a sweeping low kick. The chain whined on its hinge.

"Come on, hit me!"

The bag swung toward her, propelled by gravity, and Korrina jumped with all her strength and drove her foot into the bag in a high-speed kick. The force of her attack ripped the punching bag clean off its hinge, and it crashed to the floor. Korrina landed in a crouched position, her hands on the mat, breathing heavily.

Prickling on the back of her neck. Eyes. She whipped around, green eyes wide.

"Alain?"

There was no one there. The Gym was dark, the trainers all gone home for the night. Gurkinn was taking his after dinner tea, and Alain was probably relaxing like a normal person after a long day of training.

Korrina rubbed her arms for warmth despite the exertion. She needed a hot shower. Stretching again to prevent soreness, she lifted the punching bag and set it against the wall. Tomorrow, she'd make sure to call someone to come reinstall it.

A half hour later, Korrina was showered and changed into stretchy nylon capris and an oversized long sleeved shirt with the words 'Shalour Gym' emblazoned in blue over the chest, still feeling the chill despite the balmy ocean breeze. She'd put her damp hair in a braid and curled the braid into a bun to keep it from wetting her shoulders. There was no one on the second floor, but there were leftovers from the dinner she'd skipped, so she helped herself and sat alone at the table.

It was a nice night, quiet, only a few clouds in the sky to blot out the stars. The wind tunnel whistled with the breeze that swept in from the north, where Gurkinn had left only the screen door closed to let in the fresh air. She wondered where Alain was. Maybe he was in his room? She hadn't heard anything when she'd been up on the third floor. Outside, then?

Korrina scratched her forehead and stared at her empty plate. What did it matter where he was? He was a grown man, he could look out for himself. She tried to imagine him as a child, scared and alone and shivering with Tyrunt asleep in his lap as he huddled in a dark corner of Frost Cavern, those sparkling blue eyes wide and wet with tears as he tried to be brave for them both. She couldn't imagine what that must have been like for him, how he'd survived it. She'd seen how he'd bent Goodra's will, how he'd manipulated the Goomy and Sliggoo to let them pass like a demigod commands mortal creatures to do his bidding, and even now it was hard to swallow.

The worst part was, she was curious. How did he do it? What was it like? Could he communicate with them telepathically? Some Clairvoyants could read minds, and most could communicate telepathically with Psychic Pokémon. Korrina didn't know any Clairvoyants (happily), but she knew about them. The powerful ones were all well known. Caitlin the Graea in Unova, a blind Seer of futures not yet foretold. There was Olympia of Anistar City here in Kalos, rumored to have the power to connect find any Psychic Pokémon or fellow Clairvoyant simply if she thought about it. And the waif twins, Tate and Liza of Mossdeep City in Hoenn, who were said to be able to exorcise Ghosts that possessed people and Pokémon and even kill them, but Korrina didn't know if that was true. Everyone said you couldn't kill a Ghost because it was already dead.

And there was a Pokémon professor from Kanto whose death some time ago had affected Gurkinn, who had known the old Clairvoyant personally in his younger years. He was supposed to be a brilliant researcher, this Professor Samuel Oak, and apparently he had a grandson. Gary Oak, a young but gifted Clairvoyant who had taken over as the Viridian City Gym Leader in Kanto. Korrina had never met any of them, and she hoped she never would. Clairvoyants and their Psychics were notoriously antagonistic toward Bellators. She'd heard about how the Saffron City Gym Leader, Sabrina, had used her Clairvoyance to oust the rightful Bellator Gym Leader and ran the city illegally for years before the other Kanto Gym Leaders rallied and finally put a stop to her. Some of the rumors recounted that some no-name Reaper had decapitated her and paraded her head around Saffron. Others swore it was one of Sabrina's own kind, a Clairvoyant like her, that had been her demise. Whatever the story, Sabrina was long dead, and the Bellators were back in charge of Saffron for the long run.

Titans were about the furthest you could get from Clairvoyants, but Korrina had to wonder. How did he do it? Alain had talked about control, how it drove all Titans. What did that mean? Would he explain it if she asked? Korrina looked up from her empty plate all of a sudden, flushed. She wanted to ask. She wanted to know what he felt, what it was like, what it meant to him.

She got up and deposited her dishes in the sink to wash. She went through the motions mechanically, not really present, as her mind wandered. It did that a lot lately since the Goodra incident, and it always ended up in the same place.

Wiping her forehead of a light sheen of salty sweat that had beaded there, Korrina finished her dishes and headed downstairs. She wandered to the porch deck and went to the mini fridge, but someone was already seated on the porch.

"Hey," Alain said. He held out a beer bottle for her. "I thought you'd be down soon." He caught sight of her shirt and smirked. "Nice team spirit."

Korrina eyed him, wondering if it was worth it to punch him in the face just to see him fall off that chair. "You know me. Always peppy."

Alain snorted. She ignored him and looked toward the beach. His Pokémon were out and lounging. Charizard had brought back a Grumpig carcass to feast on from wherever it had gone to hunt, and Tyrantrum and Heliolisk were finishing off a Tauros they had killed earlier in the day. Upon hearing voices, Heliolisk perked up and ran back to the porch, long tail swishing behind it as it waddled toward Alain and Korrina. It stopped just short of Alain's sunning chair and licked its eyeball. Korrina made a face.

"Does that taste good, Heliolisk?" she asked.

Alain chuckled. "The mystery of the century."

Korrina crossed her arms, eyed the beer Alain still held out for her, and finally accepted it. She pulled up the nearest sunning chair and leveled it parallel with Alain's, a couple feet apart, and sat down. Heliolisk hopped onto the foot of Alain's chair and curled up to nap.

"She really likes you, huh?" Korrina said as she took a sip of her beer and hugged her knees to her chest.

Alain let his arm hang over the side of his chair in between them, his beer bottle dangling from his fingers. "Yeah, she's definitely the affectionate type. Which is sometimes a problem. I've probably been electrocuted more times than the average person."

"I hear it's good for your complexion," she teased.

"Oh great, so long as my skin is flawless then my life is complete."

They shared a laugh, then fell into an easy silence. The waves were ever constant, beating ceaselessly against the shore and leaving dark shadows in the wet sand as they receded. The jellyfish were out again tonight, as they were every night in the summer months. They would be feasting on Wailmer and Carvanha at this time. Their red bulbous false eyes were hauntingly beautiful to look upon in the moonlight so long as you ignored their gory purpose.

"Were you training until now?" Alain broke the silence.

"Sort of. I broke a punching bag."

Alain sat up in his chair. "You broke a punching bag?"

Korrina took a swig of her beer. "What? Like you've never done that?"

"Hell no I've never done that. Those things weigh a shit ton, Korrina. How'd you break it?"

She shrugged. "I dunno, I just kicked it really hard. The chain broke."

He shook his head. "Goddamn, woman."

She shifted in her seat to face him. "Hey, if you have something to say to me, then say it."

He put up his hands. "No, it's not like that."

"Then what's it like?"

"I dunno. You're just a real beast, I guess. Remind me never to piss you off. I mean, more than I already do."

She thought about that for a moment. "You don't piss me off."

Alain snorted. "And they call me a liar."

Korrina crossed her legs and leaned over her armrest. "I'm not lying."

"Oh, then what do you call, like, every day since I got here?"

"That's just me."

Alain blinked, the smarmy look on his face gone. "Did you mean what you said the other night?"

"What did I say the other night?"

"That you like me," he said quickly. "I mean, that you don't completely hate me."

Is this what he worries about?

"Sure, I meant it. I like you better than any other Titan."

He was looking at her with an earnest intensity in those riveting blue eyes, and she suddenly realized he was not messing around. Korrina cradled her beer in both hands and tapped the neck with her fingers to distract from his scrutiny.

"I did mean it," she said softly. "I thought about what you told me, and...I'm sorry. I really am. And not just because of what you told me." She bit her lip, searching for the right words. "These past months, you've worked really hard and you've given me every reason to trust your intentions. And that time with Goodra in the mines... I've never seen a Titan in action, to be honest. It was... It was really incredible, what you did. And knowing what I do now about how you learned to do that, well..." She tightened her grip on the bottle and forced herself to meet his gaze. "Thanks. I can't imagine how difficult it must've been for you to use that power after what you went through."

Alain took a steadying breath and rolled his shoulders. "Thanks, Korrina. That means a lot more than you probably realize. I'm..." He let out a sharp breath. "Thanks."

They fell into another protracted silence, and Korrina's stomach twisted as it dragged on. She'd never had much of a problem finding something to say (or not say) to Alain before, but she was coming up short now. Perhaps he sensed her discomfort and broke the silence.

"So...did you really break a punching bag?"

Korrina rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up."

"I bet you mauled the shit out of it. What'd it ever do to you?"

"I didn't maul it. I'm not like Tyrantrum, god."

"You can be."

"Ha ha, fuck you."

"Well, better than mauling Mega Lucario, I think. The battered victim look doesn't suit you at all."

Korrina went very still and did her best to stay calm, not respond, not even think, but he noticed. She saw it in his eyes that narrowed, in his mouth as it hung open, his hands that inadvertently reached for her just a little.

"I think...that came out wrong," he said, his voice a little hoarse like he dared not speak too loudly for fear of rousing the phantoms that slept in these sands with their dirty secrets and blood long washed away in those ceaseless waves.

"I'm wondering when I'll finally just find something I don't want to run away from."

"Korrina," Alain said softly.

She blinked a few times, and her hand automatically went to her left knee and traced the long, ugly scar concealed under her pants. "No, it's fine. I think... After you trusted me with the truth about you, I've been feeling like I owe you the same."

"You don't owe me anything. You and Gurkinn have done enough for me already."

She shook her head. "No, I think, I mean I know you deserve the same respect you've shown us. Me. And I haven't been giving that to you since you got here."

He hesitated before saying, "I'll admit, I've been wondering what your deal is for a while now."

She forced a smile. "Yeah, I can tell. It's not that I don't want you to know, it's just... Talking about it makes it real all over again. I can't escape it no matter what I do, and as long as I feel that way, it's like..."

"...Like you'll never be strong enough to face it?"

Korrina wiped her nose. "Look, I never got shipped off from my family as a kid and forced into indentured servitude. I don't want you of all people to feel sorry for me, okay? Shit, what happened to you... I can't even wrap my head around it."

He frowned. "Just 'cause I went through some shit doesn't make whatever happened to you any less important or something. You don't think that, do you?"

"I wish I did. Maybe then it'd be a little easier."

Alain finished off his beer and set the empty bottle on the floor. He leaned toward her, leaning over his knees and his back slightly hunched. "Tell me what happened."

Tyrantrum crunched through Tauros's femur, the crack reaching the porch like someone had split firewood with an axe.

Korrina took a deep breath. She hadn't spoken about this to anyone, not since the police interviewed her in the hospital when she woke up from that first surgery. She remembered how young Farron had seemed back then in his crisp uniform, no wrinkles or grey hairs, his eyes kind and steady as he shared a pint of ice cream with her and gently coaxed the story out of her.

"My parents are dead," Korrina said bluntly. "You probably figured that since they're not here and we never talk about them."

"I had a feeling it was something like that," Alain admitted.

"They died when I was a kid, first my mom, then my dad a few months later." She blinked and met his gaze, strangely unemotional as she talked about them. "My mom committed suicide."

Alain, however, reacted instantly. His face slackened, his eyes widened, and he clasped his hands together for something to hold onto. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. She took the coward's way out. She knew exactly what she was doing."

Alain rubbed his mouth, wanting to say something but thinking better of it.

"I should explain," Korrina went on, swallowing the knot in her throat and washing it down with a sip of lukewarm beer. "My mother was a skuff. Her parents had been Bellators, but she came here when they kicked her out of the house. She was sixteen. You know how it is, Tamer parents with a defunct kid." Korrina pressed her lips in a thin line. "We never found out anything about them. I think Mom was too afraid of them to ever tell Grandpa anything. I tried to track them down myself a few years ago, got as close as Dewford Town in Hoenn, but the trail went cold. Lucky for them. I would've beat their faces in if I'd found them. Fucking classist pigs."

"So your mom came out here when she was a teenager?"

Korrina nodded. "Yeah. She got a job in the city as a nurse in the local hospital. Her parents were Bellators, but she'd never liked fighting, being a skuff and all. Anyway, that's how she met my dad. He was a hotshot Bellator training to take over the Gym for Grandpa one day. He had all the right ingredients—handsome face, good family, stable lifestyle, charismatic and charming to a fault. A great catch, I guess you could say. Mom thought so, anyway. You can guess what happened next. They met, married pretty young, and had me. A big happy family."

If Alain detected the sarcasm in her tone, he wisely said nothing. Instead, he got them some more beers and gave Heliolisk a head rub when it hissed at his temporary leaving.

"I grew up in this place," Korrina went on. "I learned how to fight here. I caught my first Pokémon, Pancham, in the forest west of here. Shalour's in my blood, and it was all I knew and loved growing up. I had a great childhood." She smiled a little sadly, the wistful memories like pictures preserved in glass frames in the corridors of her mind, protected from the rest of the world and the darkness that sagged against the walls, always there, threatening to break in. But she never let it. "I had a great childhood," she said again, "because Mom absorbed all the ugliness so I wouldn't see it."

She fell silent, staring at the fresh beer in her hand but not thirsty. The silence pressed on, and Alain spoke up.

"I'm not really follow—"

"My dad beat my mom," Korrina interrupted, her voice sounding far away from her body, as though she were looking down at herself. "They were happy, then they had me and they were still happy, and then... I dunno. Things changed. Dad couldn't use Mega Evolution, not properly. He had a Lucario, like every Bellator in our family, but he just couldn't get the mechanics down. Sometimes it just does doesn't work. The connection with the Pokémon isn't right. It takes a lot more than just having a viable Pokémon and being a Tamer. It's so much more, and Dad didn't have that, or maybe he did and he lost it. I dunno.

"But that was the start of it. I was seven when he started getting angry. He'd train and fight until he collapsed, then he'd hit the bars, wash down all the pain, then start again. Eventually it got to the point where he was pounding bottles more than punching bags. Nobody wanted to train with him anymore. The other Bellators who would come to Shalour just to train with Grandpa stopped coming. Even the stories about Mega Evolution stopped being enough to entice people into coming. The Gym suffered, and Shalour suffered. Grandpa said he couldn't hand over the Gym to Dad if he was an alcoholic and a failure at Mega Evolution. So Dad took out his anger on the one person who couldn't leave—Mom.

"I didn't know what was happening. I was outside all the time playing with Pancham and Torchic, and Mom was really good at hiding the evidence. She was a skuff, so she couldn't fight like Dad could, but skuffs still inherit the blood. She could survive his punches, the worst of his temper tantrums. She survived them for almost three years, until one day she just couldn't take it anymore."

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm just so tired."

Korrina glanced over her shoulder at the phantom voice she heard so often in her dreams, the hollow echo of one already dead the day she'd uttered that pathetic apology to a ten-year-old. Alain watched her move, her green eyes dart around as though looking for something, and he set his jaw.

"She climbed to the top of the tower and jumped," Korrina went on almost as an afterthought. "She never said a word to Grandpa or anybody else. But she had to know. She wasn't stupid. She had to know Dad would turn on me when she was gone, and even still she left me all alone with him. Her own daughter."

"Oh fuck, Korrina." Alain rubbed his eyes.

It was the saddest he'd ever sounded, even more than when he'd told her about himself, and she had the absurd urge to hold him, tell him it was all right, this was just a sad story that had happened to some other little girl a long, long time ago somewhere far from here.

"He didn't start hitting me right away. We were all so sad about Mom. I didn't understand it, and Grandpa was even more surprised. He was so oblivious back then. He had the Gym to worry about, the town, and no respectable heir. I can't blame him looking back. At least, not after what happened.

"I was almost eleven and I told Dad I wanted to catch a Riolu for my birthday. I thought I was ready. Torchic had evolved into Combusken, Pancham was getting stronger every day, and I was a Bellatrix, just like Grandpa. I wanted to Mega Evolve one day, just like Grandpa. Something I said set him off. I don't even remember what I said, exactly. I assume he didn't want me talking about Grandpa, like I hero-worshipped him or something. Doesn't matter. I saw the change in him like the darkness that creeps into a room when you dim the lights. It's not instantaneous, but you can see it happening right before your eyes. He looked different from one moment to the next, but he was fast. Bellators are fast. I didn't have time to be scared. He slugged me in the face, and I fell backwards and crashed into a coffee table. My fall broke the wood.

"He left even madder, screaming something about how I shouldn't make him so mad, and how could I be so selfish when Mom had just died? Pancham and Combusken helped me to my room and laid me on the bed. My face hurt and I would bruise, but I was a Bellatrix. I was tough."

She trailed off, lost in the memory. She could still remember the throbbing in her face. He hadn't broken a bone, but it sure felt like he had. The broken coffee table had ripped through the back of her shirt and cut her, but she lay on her stomach to avoid the pain and let the blood dry. When Gurkinn noticed the black and yellow shiner a few days later, she'd said something about falling from a tree, afraid her dad might hit her again if she tattled.

"It went on for a few months. Most days I'd avoid him and his ire, but sometimes I couldn't. I thought maybe I could scare him off with my Pokémon, but his Lucario was so much bigger than Combusken, and he had a Machoke that I'd been afraid of since I was small. So I didn't risk it.

"I began to hate myself. What did I do to make him so mad at me? Did he miss Mom so much that he had to take it out on me for some reason? I made up so many excuses, and I was always the bad guy, never him. He was my dad, he had to have a reason. And then I started to hate Mom. Things had been fine until she died. I was young, but I wasn't too young to understand the concept of suicide. Grandpa explained that she took her own life because she was sad and troubled, and she didn't want to hurt anymore. But with her gone, now I was hurting. It was her fault. She left me alone with Dad, and he hurt me because he couldn't hurt her anymore."

Korrina sniffled, but she didn't cry.

"I still blame her in many ways. She abandoned me. I know she had her reasons, and I know she was too far gone for help at that point. I can't hold that against her when she was just desperate to stop the pain. But I was her daughter. You're supposed to be able to count on your parents to keep you safe. That's what they're there for, right? But she abandoned me. She didn't even try to stop the monster she'd escaped, not even for her own daughter. I hate her for it, even now. I don't think I'll ever forgive her, or him."

"I don't blame you," Alain said softly.

Korrina rubbed her arms over the long sleeves, a little chilled all of a sudden. "Anyway, to get to the point, the last time Dad came after me, I fought back. I didn't want to feel this way anymore. He wasn't my dad anymore when he got like that. He was a monster that lived in the corner that came out sometimes without warning and didn't leave until he ate another piece of me. He'd come home from drinking pretty late that night. I was up going to the bathroom, and he caught me heading back to my room.

"He told me to come and sit with him, but I didn't want to. So he got angry and ended up chasing me back to my room like a fucking animal. I tried to reach the Pokéballs in the drawer on my nightstand, but he grabbed my hair and threw me down. I started screaming, and he punched me to shut me up. So I kicked him as hard as I could in the shin, and he started screaming. It didn't give me much time, but I got up and tried to run to Grandpa's room on the floor above. I made it to the stairs when Dad caught up to me.

"He picked me up and threw me against the wall, and when I fell he crawled on top of me. He," Korrina's breath hitched, and she clutched her left knee. "He punched my knee over and over until it cracked, and then he punched it again until it was just a pulpy mess. The whole time I was trying to smack his face, scratch him, anything to make it stop.

"And then it did stop. Grandpa woke up, maybe he heard me screaming, and he threw Dad off of me. Dad was drunk and it was dark, so he was slower than normal. I don't... I don't really remember what happened next. All I remember is the sound. It was like a sponge squeezing out water. I learned later that Grandpa strangled Dad to death. He killed him right there in front of me, his own son, and then he scooped me up and rushed me to the hospital."

Alain stared at her, gaze hard and his breathing faster than normal. "What happened to Gurkinn?"

"Nothing. He'd already talked to Farron before I woke up from surgery, and I didn't really understand what had happened. Grandpa still won't really talk about what happened, but I think he and Farron came to some kind of arrangement. Grandpa didn't go to prison, and Farron didn't turn him in. I've tried asking Farron about it now that I'm an adult, but he never talks about it, either. Maybe they were protecting me, who knows? I don't care."

"You're safe now," Gurkinn's promise whispered in her ear.

"Wow," Alain said. "That's... I can't believe you survived that. I mean, I can believe you survived it. But I just... Goddamn. And Gurkinn, his own son... I mean, I would've done the same in his position, at least, I wanna think I would."

"Grandpa was different after that, as you can probably imagine."

Korrina told Alain about how Gurkinn transformed almost into a different person entirely. Before he'd been so absorbed in the Gym and his duties, in his legacy, the family name, and now he'd all but given that up. He devoted his life to taking care of Korrina, raising her, and he scaled back his Gym Leader duties.

Farron, who had been a uniformed junior officer in the Shalour Police Department at the time, rose quickly in the ranks under Gurkinn's patronage and completely revamped the department. The police took over the bulk of security measures and provisions. They paid Pokémon trainers and even a few Tamers who were willing to take on the risk to join the force and take over the Gym's normal patrol duties, monitoring feral Pokémon in the area and the like. Korrina suspected that Gurkinn had traded his freedom for guaranteed backing as Farron rose in the ranks and eventually became Sherriff, but she'd never gotten the truth out of either of them.

And Gurkinn never, ever talked about his son after that. Even when Korrina was older and she understood what had happened, he would never entertain any conversation on the topic. He became the father she should have had, but it wasn't the same, and he couldn't undo the past.

"I know he regrets what he did," Korrina said. "I would, too, I guess, if I'd done what he did. And I think, as some kind of penance, he trained me. He did everything for me. He taught me the secrets of Mega Evolution, named me his successor. A real dream come true, huh."

"Why do you fight Mega Lucario?" Alain asked all of a sudden.

Korrina frowned. "You mean you didn't figure it out after everything I just told you?"

"No... Should I have?"

Korrina hugged her right knee to her chest and let the other leg hang off the edge of her chair. She took a long sip of her beer. "I fight Mega Lucario because I'm just like Dad. I can't stop."

"Wait, what? What does that mean?"

"You really don't know, do you? I guess you wouldn't. It's not like we advertise that kind of thing. Maybe like how you Titans don't talk about that hellish summer camp you all go on. Bellators, we... We have an addiction. An instinct. It's a need to fight."

"Fighting's what you guys are good at."

"No, it's more than that. It's not just some fun pastime. We have to fight. It's like... It's like something in my body compels me to do it. That's why I train with Mack or Shiri every chance I get. Grandpa's old and he can usually meditate the urge away, but even he has to beat the crap out of something every so often. My Dad just didn't know when to stop. A lot of us don't know when to stop. And if we're not really careful, if we don't vent it properly, it can turn really bad for the people around us."

"That's... Yeah, I had no idea. You feel it like a physical need?"

Korrina gestured aimlessly as if to say 'dude, what're you gonna do?' "This thing we have, you and me and all the other Tamers out there? It's not just a gift. You can't have all this power, all this strength for free. Well, obviously you got that memo a long time ago." She drank some more of her beer. "Sometimes I think my dad didn't really get that part. Maybe that's why he couldn't Mega Evolve his Lucario. He couldn't accept his flaws or Lucario's."

"No, it's not free," Alain said. "But you still didn't answer my question."

"Hm?"

"Mega Lucario. Why do you fight him? Why torture yourself? What's the point?"

He was doing it again, that look that made her want to hug him close and reassure him that tomorrow was a new day, that she was here and she would protect him, fight for him. So morose, and so raw. Visceral, and those eyes were an illegal shade of blue she could have peered into forever until she wasted away to nothing. Was that what trust felt like? To be able to sit with a person, listen to them and look at them and let them look upon you and never want to leave? She wouldn't know from experience, but this wasn't the worst thing she could imagine.

"I guess... I want to feel strong. I just fell apart when my dad came after me, and even fighting back I couldn't do anything to stop him. I never want to feel that way again. If I can take my own punishment, then I can take anything."

Alain grabbed her hand and held it firmly in his without warning. "Korrina, oh my god. You are strong. You've gotta be the strongest person I know, and not just because you beat the crap outta me every day. But you were a child, there was nothing you could've done. You know that, right?"

His hand was cool in hers from holding the cold beer for so long. "I know that. I'm not an idiot."

"I didn't say you were."

"I told you I don't want you to feel sorry for me. It was a long time ago. I've put it behind me even if it's still shitty to think about. I'm the Gym Leader now. I can use Mega Evolution. I'm everything my dad could never be. I'm better than him, and I'm better than Mom. I'm not gonna just roll over and give up when shit gets rough. Whatever it takes, I'll keep getting stronger and I'll keep fighting."

"Okay, but getting stronger can't just be about inflicting as much pain as you can and seeing if you can survive it."

"No? Then what's it about? Please, enlighten me."

He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and licked his lips, gaze drifting in and out of focus. "I think it's about finding other people who'll have your back, and who you can protect. Someone who'll pick you up when you fall, like Gurkinn picked you up after what happened with your dad. Someone... Someone who won't run when he doesn't know how to fix what's been ruined."

He looked at her then like he'd only just seen here sitting there, her hand in his, mouth slightly ajar.

"I think you just figured something out," she said, smiling softly. "Maybe...you really will find what you've been looking for here."

It happened fast. There was no buildup, none that was memorable, at least, and there was no heart-pounding flutter, no self-torturing doubt, no teenaged fervor tempered by awkward fumbling, reservation, that pesky 'this is a bad idea' kind of bullshit, because why? Why is it a bad idea? Why shouldn't she accept the possibility that maybe she'd figured something out, too.

Alain had her by the hand and he pulled her to him so fast that Korrina barely kept them from busting their noses against each other. She landed on his chest, plucked right out of her chair and onto his lap, and he grabbed her tied up hair like it offended him. Down came the blonde, cascading and still damp and wavy after so long wound up in a wet braid bun, over his fingers, around her shoulders, a veil splayed over their cheeks as he kissed her like he might die tonight.

The more she pushed, the more he pulled, and soon there was nothing else and nowhere to go. He bit her lip and she hissed, and he smiled, the self-important prick. His fingers in her hair, tugging, electrifying, his thumb over her knuckles, his knee against her inner thigh, and close, so close, she couldn't breathe—

Woosh!

Something heavy struck the sandy beach, and Charizard snarled. Alain jumped, and Korrina almost fell on her butt, but he caught her, sort of, and really he shouldn't have bothered because she was half on the floor as it was. Heliolisk bolted upright and blasted a Thundershock into the sky, spooked, and Korrina's loose hair frizzled with static electricity.

Down on the beach, Tyrantrum had gone after what was left of the Grumpig carcass—the juicy head, obviously the best part—and Charizard was not down to share tonight. The two Dragons faced off, jaws slick with saliva and blood and black smoke curling from Charizard's sawed off nostrils.

"Shit," Alain said, hauling Korrina up onto the chair next to him before she had any say in the matter. "Hey, cut that out!" he shouted at the two of them.

Charizard glared at him, and Tyrantrum took the opportunity to snatch up Grumpig's entire head in its massive jaws. Crunch. Charizard snarled, smoking and spewing embers, but Tyrantrum backed off and lifted its tail, head down in that 'don't fuck with me' pose it got when it was feeling particularly arrogant. Charizard roared and lunged at Tyrantrum, claws first and jaws snapping, and the two of them tumbled together into the sand. Heliolisk darted off the sunning chair to intervene, hissing angrily that there was no choice head meat left for it to feast on.

"Oh my god," Korrina said.

"Damnit." Alain got up and ran to the beach. "Hey, I said cut it out!"

The two Dragons rolled around in the sand, snapping and scratching and snarling. Tyrantrum's head was like a boulder around which Charizard attempted to wrap its arms, but the dinosaur's skull was as hard as a rock and impenetrable unless Charizard tried something a little sharper. Tyrantrum slammed into the beach on its side, trying to shake Charizard off. Something gelatinous and reddish brown dripped from Tyrantrum's jaws—Grumpig's brain matter ground to a cheesy pulp. The smell sent Heliolisk into a tizzy and it started launching weak Thunder Waves at its larger companions. Alain almost got smacked by Charizard's errant, flaming tail, and he was forced to stumble back.

"Charizard! Tyrantrum!"

Korrina got up, unsure what to do or if she should even intervene. Dragons were Alain's domain, not hers. She brushed her loose hair out of her face and breathed deeply, tasting salt on her tongue and lips, still tingling from that kiss he'd pulled out of her.

Alain finally got Charizard to let go of Tyrantrum's head and separated the two of them. Tyrantrum shook itself out and rained a small sandstorm all over Heliolisk and Alain.

"You two prima donnas finished?" Alain scolded them. "Come on, it's just a head."

Charizard stalked back to what little was left of the Grumpig carcass, sulking like a child at its pilfered prize, while Tyrantrum grumbled low in its belly and looked around, completely losing interest in Charizard and its temper tantrum. Heliolisk continued to screech indignantly and ran circles around Tyrantrum's thick legs, but it was ignored.

By the time Alain calmed down the prissy Dragons and headed back to the porch, Korrina was long gone.

---

Grace Gabena considered herself to be a patient woman. She wasn't a saint, but she could hold on for things to run their course without going stir crazy. When Serena had begun her long stints at Sycamore's lab here in Lumiose City, Grace had almost gone back the next day and taken her daughter back to Vaniville. But she didn't. Sometimes, when Serena was gone for longer periods, months instead of weeks, Grace would unplug her X-Transceiver so she couldn't be tempted to call the lab and inquire after her daughter. And when Serena had told her about a boy she'd met, a boy like her, Grace had let that go, too. Serena needed a friend, someone like her. Someone who could understand. Someone who wasn't Grace Gabena.

She let the Fairies stay. That snobbish Sylveon slept all day and followed Serena around and sometimes just stared openly at Grace like it was secretly plotting her murder by disembowelment. But Klefki had to be the most unsettling of all Serena's Pokémon. It wasn't natural. It was a floating keychain that could think and feel and often would sneak up on Grace when she was distracted doing dishes or folding laundry or stripping for the shower and scare the living daylights out of her with that infernal jingle-jangle. Even the garden had become Serena's Fairy sanctuary. Grace would watch her sit out there for hours, doing nothing and saying nothing as Sylveon and Klefki sat with her. There was something out there, something that Grace would never understand.

Calem was still recovering in a private room here in Sycamore's lab, and Grace did not disturb him, not after the night he'd had. Sycamore had sent word to the Lumiose Police Department when Grace had phoned him about what had transpired in Vaniville, and the police sent an emergency convoy to pick up Calem and rush him to Lumiose City.

Four massive Crobat arrived within an hour of Grace's call, lightning fast, and they were roped together to ferry a wide gurney and makeshift work station where the EMTs worked on stabilizing Calem until they could return to Lumiose. Grace had returned to the house to retrieve her Rhyhorn's Pokéball and Fletchling, who refused to be left behind, and then she joined Calem and the EMTs and Klefki, who had not left Calem's side since the attack, and held on for dear life as the four Crobat took to the night skies.

Grace had flown on Pokémon before, years ago, but never like this. The bats were faster than any Flyer she had ever known before, and contrary to her worst fears climbing aboard the airlift transport, they flew smoothly and in perfect sync. If not for the wind, she would not have noticed they were even moving at all. And they were silent. Grace was a pleb, and plebs had difficulty training adult Pokémon compared to Tamers. It took years of time and care for a pleb to learn how to work with an adult Pokémon and earn its trust. But the man that had come accompanying the EMTs and commanded the Crobat made it look like a walk in the park. Four fully evolved, dangerous Pokémon, and he barely had to say a word to get them to do what he wanted. Grace didn't talk to him or ask. She didn't have to. And anyway, it didn't matter so long as Calem lived.

Calem.

Serena's best friend, but Grace was not born yesterday. The boy was in love with her daughter, plain as day. It was in his eyes when he looked at Serena, in the way he held himself around her. He would not have fought so hard at the risk of his own death for her otherwise. Grace had seen Serena training her Pokémon before. That Altaria scared her half to death. It had been a cute little cotton ball of a Pokémon when it was still a Swablu, but now it was different. Even a pleb like Grace could feel the difference in the air around it. And that Rhydon... Grace and her Rhyhorn had been together since she was a girl. It was an older Pokémon, but the species lived for a century and a half at least. Eventually, Rhyhorn would evolve in its own time. But to see Serena with her Rhydon, a monster that had grown out of the shy Rhyhorn Grace had procured for her to learn how to race... The distance between mother and daughter had never felt so great as the day Rhydon first emerged from its long sleep in its Pokéball, evolved and no longer shy.

But they listened to Serena, kept her safe, fought for her, just as Calem's Pokémon had fought for him last night. And he'd lost one, that Escavalier. Grace had watched the woman's Talonflame pry off his helmet like a can opener. Grace had never been a trainer, like most plebs. She knew the basics, the necessity for self-defense, but she was no fool. Any attempt to intervene on Calem's behalf would have only made her a liability. But even Calem could not defeat that woman, and he was supposed to be one of them, one of the gifted ones who could do things Grace never could. And it hadn't been enough. Serena was her daughter. She was supposed to protect her, not watch helplessly as a young boy fought a losing battle against an opponent that outclassed him in every imaginable way.

Grace could not understand what it had taken Calem to fight that woman, what it had cost him, and even now she could not help the anger over losing Serena. But there was something Grace did understand, something that transcended the distance between daughter and mother, Tamer and pleb. Something that brought Serena back to her after each visit to Lumiose, something that gave Grace the patience to coexist with her daughter's Fairies, to put up with the loneliness of raising a child by herself. Something that had spurred her to act quickly and phone the one person who might be able to save Calem's life, because she'd already lost her daughter, she was not about to lose the one person who loved her daughter as much as she did. It was that something that drove her to what she was going to do now.

Grace had not bothered to change before boarding the Crobat airlift to Lumiose, and thus she was still in her nightgown and bathrobe and house slippers, hair frazzled, reeking of smoke from Calem's battle with that woman. Nevertheless, she abandoned her place in the lab's cafeteria and the cup of coffee she'd been nursing and stormed into Sycamore's lab.

"Augustine, we need to talk," she said. "Now."

Sycamore was finishing up a conversation with Calem's doctor when Grace burst into his lab unannounced. Under any other circumstances, the uninitiated may have perceived her to be an angry wife confronting her younger husband about his scandalous extramarital affairs and enough was enough, goddamnit. Either way, the good doctor, a greying man with thick spectacles and a rumpled brown suit nodded discreetly to Sycamore and politely excused himself, he would be back later this evening to check on Calem and the nurse would remain in his stead. Some of Sycamore's lab techs and fellow scientists were busy at work at their stations, but they stopped their work to stare at this woman in her nightclothes with the audacity to boss around the boss.

Sycamore clasped his hands together in front of his mouth like he might burst into some kind of religious chant. There were bags under his eyes and worry lines around his mouth. He hadn't slept in nearly thirty-six hours due to the nature of his work and then the emergency with Calem for which he'd dropped everything.

"Grace," Sycamore said at a respectable whisper. "Why don't we talk somewhere more private?"

Grace followed him to a small office on the main lab floor, and Sycamore closed the door so the other lab workers would not be privy to their conversation. Grace paced the office in front of the desk, arms crossed.

"I can't sit around here and do nothing," she said, more to herself than to him. "Someone did this, and I have to find out who."

"Hold on a minute," Sycamore said. "We've all had a long night, Calem especially. I think what's best for everyone right now is to get some rest, yourself included. Then we can think about how to help Serena."

Grace fixed him with a venomous look. "Rest? My baby is out there with that psycho woman doing god knows what and you want me to rest?"

Sycamore approached Grace, hands up in a placating gesture, but she backed up and intensified her glare. He stopped short and took a deep breath.

"I understand your frustration. Serena is very important to me, too, and I want to do whatever it takes to find her. Which is why I talked to Calem a bit this morning when he was awake."

Grace blinked, caught off guard. "He's awake? So he's going to be okay?"

Sycamore smiled a little. "Yes, I think so. Thanks to your quick thinking. Vaniville's clinic didn't have the concentration of Burn Heal he needed. You saved his life when you called me."

She averted her gaze and swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm glad he's okay."

"He told me a little bit about that woman he fought. He said she was Ignifera, a Fire Tamer. Judging from the severity of his wounds, I'd wager she was an extraordinarily powerful one. I know this is hard to hear, but there's nothing Calem could have done against her alone and unprepared. I imagine that was the point of this planned abduction."

Grace balled her fists under her crossed arms. "I shouldn't have blamed him."

"It's all right. I can't imagine how awful it must have been for you in that situation, and I'm sure Calem understands that, too. I'm sure you didn't mean it."

"Yes, I did mean it," Grace interrupted. "I meant it." She rubbed her tired eyes. "It's the last thing I said to him before he blacked out."

Sycamore was silent a moment. "Well, you can talk to him yourself once he's feeling better tonight."

"Did he say anything else? He didn't know who this woman was?"

"Unfortunately, no. There are many Tamers in the world, and they tend to keep to themselves if they have a choice, as you know. I'm not surprised Calem didn't recognize this woman, although it bothers me that we don't know anything about her when she's this strong." He paused before adding, "Calem did have a theory. Not about the woman, per se, but about the abduction."

"Well?"

Sycamore stuffed his hands in his pockets. "He asked about who else knew about Serena being a Magus. The woman apparently used that word, so she knew the truth."

Grace paled. "Someone betrayed her. Someone close to us told that woman, and she came for Serena."

"Now wait a minute, I didn't say that. Calem was just coming out of heavy sedation when we spoke."

Grace shook her head. "No, he's right, I know it. Someone who already knew about Serena had to divulge her secret. There's no other way anyone would know. You've said yourself how these Magi have been extinct for centuries, so there's no way anyone would be actively looking for one or even recognize the signs unless they knew what to spot."

Sycamore's eyes lost focus for a moment as he considered her words, and she knew she had him.

"Augustine, who knows about Serena? Tell me."

"Aside from the three of us, you remember my old assistant, Alain. You met him a few times. But there's no way it was him. He stopped working for me four years ago and we've been out of contact ever since. I don't even know where he is, if he's even still in Kalos."

"I'll decide who to suspect, thank you," Grace snapped. "Who else?"

"My current assistant, Dexio."

"And where is Dexio? Is he working today?"

"No, we had a very long night that lasted well into yesterday evening, so I gave him today off."

"Well, are you going to bring him in to question him?"

"Question him? He hasn't done anything."

"That you know of. You said this woman knew Serena was a Magus. How could she have known if someone didn't tell her?"

Sycamore sighed. "Look, Grace, I fully understand where you're going with this, and I agree that we should look into it. But I don't think we should jump to conclusions and start pointing fingers. Calem's still recovering, and you need to rest, too. We both do. No one's thinking clearly, and that's not going to help Serena in the long run. You can agree with me on that, right?"

Grace was squeezing her fists so hard that the nails broke the skin on her palms. The sting of pain had a sobering effect, and she unclenched her jaw. "...Right."

"Then please trust me. I want to find out how this happened just as much as you do. But first, I've arranged for you to have a change of clothes and a room up in the residential quarters. Shower, change, sleep, get something to eat. We'll tackle this together when we're all fresh, you have my word."

Grace's fingers were slick on her palms where the little blood that had escaped seeped in between them and grew sticky. She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"Great, thank you. Come on, please let me show you to the guest room upstairs."

Grace said nothing and let Sycamore lead her to the elevator to the sixth floor, where he showed her into a bedroom that had been made up and recently spruced for her use. There was a change of clothes folded on the bed.

"You'll find everything you need in here," he said, the exhaustion palpable in his voice.

"Thank you, Augustine," Grace said, arms still crossed.

"Okay. I'm heading to my own quarters to get some rest, but you can connect to Shannon, the lab's receptionist, on the X-Transceiver phone by the bed if you need anything. Let's plan to meet in Calem's recovery room at eight tonight. He should be well enough to be up and about by then, according to the doctor."

It was nearly two in the afternoon right now. Grace nodded, and Sycamore excused himself. Once alone, Grace walked around the bed to the phone and picked it up. After a moment, she was connected with the receptionist.

"Reception, how may I direct your call?" a woman said.

"Hi Shannon, this is Jen on the third floor," Grace said smoothly, choosing the most generic name she could in hopes the receptionist would not question her, "and I'm such a bonehead. I'm covering for Dexio today while he's out, you know how Professor Sycamore's got that kid in here just up from Vaniville?"

"Oh, yes—"

"And anyway, I just realized I don't have the password for Dexio's computer here and it's the only place he's got Professor Sycamore's agenda for today. I know, I'm such a space case! And there's this big meeting he's got later tonight and I really need the details for him, but I don't want to bother him when he's in the middle of this personal emergency, you know?"

"Oh sure, I understand," Shannon said politely.

"Anyway, would you do me a huge favor and give me Dexio's home address? I've gotta run the laptop over to him so he can unlock it for me."

"His address?"

Grace gnashed her teeth and fisted her bathrobe to keep her temper under control. "Yeah, you know, I don't want to ask him for the password, it's against protocol, so this is the next best thing. Please? I'll just run over there quick and no one'll hear a word about it. He was supposed to send me the agenda and just forgot, so I'd rather not make a huge deal out of it and get him in trouble, too, you know what I mean?"

Shannon laughed. "Oh, I know exactly what you mean. Someone makes one little mistake and suddenly the whole lab knows about it by lunch!"

Grace forced herself to giggle along with Shannon.

"Okay Jen, you got a pen and paper?"

"You bet, ready when you are." She grabbed the pen and paper in the drawer of the nightstand and took down Dexio's address as Shannon read it to her. "Shannon, you're a lifesaver, seriously. I owe you one."

"No problem. Jen, right? I'm so sorry, I try to learn everyone's names, but it's a huge lab."

"No worries. And thanks again. I better get to it before the gossip mill gets wind of this."

"Haha, you got it. Bye now."

Grace slammed down the receiver and ripped off the paper with Dexio's home address. She then hastily changed out of her smelly nightclothes and pulled on the street clothes Sycamore had given her—jeans, a long sleeved green blouse, and a light grey windbreaker. She stopped in the bathroom to splash water on her face and dampen her hair, run a brush through it quickly, just enough to blend in on the street and not look like she'd been up all night worried sick over her only daughter's sudden abduction. The shower called longingly, but Grace hardly noticed it. Serena needed her right now, and there was nothing more important.

She stuffed the paper with Dexio's address into her jeans pocket next to the two Pokéballs she'd clipped to the belt, slipped on the brown walking shoes by the door, and headed for the elevator. As the doors opened up onto the main floor, Grace put up the hood of her windbreaker and sailed through the lobby. Shannon the receptionist didn't even look up to acknowledge her.

Outside, it was drizzling and the sky was overcast and grey. The storm drains and manholes smoked, and the smell of the city lingered in the air like stale cigarette smoke in a cheap hotel room. Dexio's place was too far to walk to from here, so Grace jumped on the electric trolley that traversed the entire western half of the city. Tiny Magnemite floated over the trolley, feeding it electricity that propelled it along the cables. No one paid her any mind as she rode by herself in silence.

Grace knew the city well. She'd been coming here for years for the races since she was a girl. Dexio lived in the northwest part of the city, about a forty-minute commute by trolley from the lab. It was a young part of the city, where the single and under thirty-five crowd tended to congregate for the cheaper rents, myriad take-out restaurants, and easy access to Central Lumiose where all the trendy cafés and shops were. Grace was very familiar with the area. She'd lived there herself when she was just starting out her career as a racer in her early twenties. She just hoped Dexio would be home.

The trolley stopped at a corner about forty minutes later, and Grace got off with a splash on the sidewalk. The rain had picked up, and the chewed up asphalt and cement were already filling with small puddles that drained into the sewers underground. Grace pulled her hood down lower over her eyes, ignoring the urge to yawn. She probably looked like hell, but she couldn't be bothered to care.

A twenty-four-hour take-out restaurant glowed under a yellow neon sign on the corner of Dexio's street, the emetic smell of deep-fried dough and meat inescapable. A group of young men with gaunt faces and smoking cigarettes paused their conversation to watch her go by, and Grace ignored the crawling sensation of their stares. She was not as young as she used to be, now in her mid-fifties, but she kept in good shape and had always been on the petite side, and her hood hid her face from view. The men did nothing, but they reminded her of why she'd moved away from this part of town the first chance she got. Grace rested her hand on the Pokéballs at her belt, wondering if it had been them, not her confident gait, that had deterred the sleazy gawkers.

Dexio's apartment was in a brick building with a fire escape zigzagging down the front that completely ruined the façade, but architectural beauty was not the appeal of this neighborhood. Grace walked into the building like she owned the place, dashing discreetly after a woman with a toddler in her arms and holding the door open once the woman buzzed it open.

"Thank you," she mumbled, not even looking at Grace.

Grace said nothing and headed for the stairs while the woman waited for the elevator. Dexio's apartment was on the third floor. As Grace passed other tenants' rooms, she heard the telltale boom of music, the breathy gasps of a couple having sex, a baby crying somewhere. A Meowth stalked the second floor hallway and looked up from its food to eye Grace suspiciously. Grace hurried past it to the third floor and grabbed the two Pokéballs at her belt. Dexio's apartment was at the end of the tiled hallway.

"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself.

She was no trainer, no fighter. She couldn't do what Calem did, what Serena did. She was just some washed up Rhyhorn racer whose best days were long behind her. She was nobody to these people who didn't know her, didn't remember her name. But she was here, she wasn't turning back. Calem had tried, and he probably could not have done any better than if he'd actually given his life, and even then Grace was not convinced that Serena would have been safe. So now it was her turn. Serena was her daughter. She would not abandon her, never.

She knocked on Dexio's door. There was some shuffling on the other side.

"Who is it?"

"I'm here with a message from Professor Sycamore," Grace said, raising the pitch of her voice to sound more girlish and disarming.

There was a pause, and she guessed he must be looking at her through the peep hole.

"Who are you?"

"I work with the professor. There's been an emergency at the lab, and he asked me to come and get you."

Another pause. "Today's my day off, and I don't recognize you. If Professor Sycamore wanted to see me, he could have just called."

Maybe it was the compounded stress of the previous night, first with Serena's abduction and then Calem's hospitalization. Maybe she wasn't as patient as she thought she was. Or maybe she was just tired of waiting for things to happen right under her nose in the middle of the night and it was too late for her to save her little girl, as a child and now as a young woman. Either way, in a split second of either total insanity or calculated courage, Grace tossed out her two Pokéballs right there. Fletchling squawked and Rhyhorn looked around, its cautious gaze wary.

"Hey, what're you doing out there?" Dexio demanded. "I'm calling the cops!"

"Rhyhorn, knock down that door!" Grace said.

Rhyhorn eyed her like it didn't recognize her. Grace very rarely ordered it to use attacks.

"Bulldoze, now!" she commanded.

Rhyhorn got the message real quick. It lined itself up with the door, lowered its head, and charged. Grace, Fletchling on her shoulder, backed up and shielded her face as the door exploded under Rhyhorn's brute strength. Grace stared in shock for a second, incredulous that her trusted Rhyhorn with whom she'd shared more than half her life could break down a dead bolted door with such ease. Rhyhorn waddled into the apartment, and Grace remembered herself. She jogged after the bulky rhino and squeezed in behind it.

Dexio's apartment was neither particularly clean nor messy. Evidence of his well-paying job was all over the place in his plush leather couch, a collection of vintage records, a beautiful hand-woven rug on the floor. Dexio himself had retreated to the bedroom, presumably to phone the cops. Grace ran in after him.

"Fletchling, Peck!" she ordered.

The little bird tweeted fiercely and flew at Dexio just as he was dialing. It drove its little beak into his hand, piercing skin and muscle and spraying blood all over the white pillow on his bed. Dexio cried out in pain and clutched his hand, dropping the receiver. Frantic brown eyes found Grace, and he scrambled backwards on his bed away from her as she stalked toward him.

"What the fuck, lady! Get away from me!"

Rhyhorn lumbered in after Grace, but its wide frame was a little too big for the door and it chipped the sides. Plaster, wood, and insulation came apart around it as it pushed into the room after Grace. Dexio watched it like it was an axe murderer come to kill him in his sleep.

"My name is Grace Gabena," Grace said, her rage tingling in her fingers. "You know my daughter, Serena."

"S-Serena..." Dexio seemed to rack his mind to put a face to the name. "Y-Yeah, I know her, so what?"

Grace advanced. "She was kidnapped last night by a woman, an Ignifera. I saw her with my own eyes. She knew about Serena's gift."

Dexio's eyes flashed and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. He was sweating, his blond bangs plastered to his forehead and blood from the flesh wound on his hand smeared on his cheek. "Malva kidnapped her?"

Grace could not contain her rage any longer and she threw herself at him. Dexio screamed and tried to bat her away, but Grace was strong and in shape despite her exhaustion. She grabbed his wrists and pressed her thumb into the Peck wound on his hand, and Dexio whimpered.

"So you know her!" she hissed. "You're the one who told this Malva about my daughter, aren't you? Answer me!"

"I-I don't know! I didn't know!"

"Not good enough! Rhyhorn, get over here!"

Rhyhorn lumbered into the room to the foot of the bed, and Dexio squirmed.

"No, please! Wait! C-Call that thing off, please!"

"Answer my question," Grace said through gritted teeth. "Did you tell Malva about Serena? Did you tell her she's a Magus?"

Dexio's eyes watered with tears. "Yes."

Grace tightened her grip on his wrists, and Fletchling tweeted angrily. Its beak was splashed with Dexio's blood.

"Where is she taking Serena?"

"I don't know, I swear! I had no idea she'd kidnap her! You gotta believe me, please!"

"Why should I?"

Fletchling hopped from Grace's shoulder to Dexio's, its head twitching, and he winced.

"It's the truth, I swear! She just wanted to know about Serena, where she lived, that stuff. She didn't tell me why, just that Serena was important for some project she was working on. That's all I know, I swear. Oh god, please don't kill me!"

Grace could not believe her ears. "Why the hell would you tell anyone about Serena? Have you told anyone else?"

"No, just Malva, I swear! Sh-She paid me. She paid a lot, that's the only reason. Oh god, I swear I had no idea she'd kidnap her, please believe me. Oh god..."

He was sobbing outright now, and Grace could not stand to look at him any longer. She threw him down onto the bed and got up. Fletchling hopped after her, tweeting, and Rhyhorn looked up at her, its small eyes ever cautious. Grace's vision blurred with tears and she raised a hand to cover her face as a sob of her own racked her body.

"Please don't kill me," Dexio pleaded with her, still cowering on his bed in fear of Rhyhorn. "I swear I didn't mean for it to happen like this. I always liked Serena."

Grace whirled on him. "Shut up, you don't get to say her name!" She sniffled and wiped her eyes with her sleeves, thoughts racing. "I'm not going to kill you."

"You're not?"

"No. You're coming back to the lab with me. And I'll let Calem decide if he wants to kill you. He deserves it after that woman killed his Pokémon."

Dexio shivered and cried, holding his head in his hands, and Grace was finding it hard to hold on to her rage. He was too pathetic, sniveling like a coward, not the face of the villain she'd come here looking for. She sniffled again and smelled something musty, faint but pungent, and realized he must have soiled himself when she came after him like a harpy.

"Get up, Dexio," Grace said, not quite recognizing her own voice. "You're going to tell Sycamore and Calem what you just told me, and then you're going to help me find my daughter."

---

The doctor gently lowered the slings elevating Calem's arms and unhooked them from the pulleys. He'd drained four full IV bags of Burn Heal and was slowly working his way through the fifth, but he felt comparatively better than he had this morning. His arms throbbed, but the pain was manageable. His left hand was mending with the help of a Hyper Potion the doctor had injected directly into his wrist and would be functional again in a matter of days, possibly even by tomorrow night.

But the doctor had warned him that he would not make a full recovery. He may never regain full range of motion in his left hand, which meant no more punching with it. That was okay, Calem said, his left hand was his shield hand, which was how he reassured himself in private over and over again thereafter. He would also have scars. Terrible scars on his forearms. They would reach deep into his shredded muscle tissue, wrap around his arm in the shape of a messy handprint, and no amount of Hyper Potions would ever erase them or the damage they did. They would be a part of him, forever.

"You'll find yourself physically weaker," the doctor warned. "The burns fried your arm muscles and touched your bones, and that will take time to recover. Physical therapy will help, but you may not see results for months even with constant work. It will also affect how you wield that Aegislash for the rest of your life. You won't be able to support weight the way you always have."

"I understand," Calem mumbled. He just wanted to get out of this bed and feel like a regular person again. The rest, he could deal with later.

The doctor looked at him pointedly, but he didn't argue. "Very well, son. I think you should get up, try walking around a little, eat something. Professor Sycamore said he would meet you here at eight, and it's about five till."

"Okay. Thanks, Doctor."

The doctor nodded. "You've been through an ordeal. Frankly, it's a miracle you survived. If Ms. Gabena had called any later, you may not have made it."

"Why didn't you stop her?!"

Calem averted his gaze as Grace's painful words echoed in his memory, ashamed. "...Yeah."

The doctor smiled warmly. "Remember to rest. You'll be back to your old self in no time."

He let himself out of the room where the nurse was waiting, and the two of them headed for the elevator. Calem stood there for a long moment, the door ajar and looking out onto the fourth floor, Sycamore's private lab and residence. Klefki floated next to Calem's ear and chimed softly, perhaps sensing his mood.

"It's not me I'm worried about," he confided to the tiny Fairy.

Klefki's jewel heart pulsed softly, its usual spritely jingling absent and making the silence here seem much more profound. Calem raised his arms at the elbow. They were both heavily bandaged, pristine white, but he knew they'd been changed regularly throughout the day while he slept to accommodate the mucous discharge created when the Burn Heal interacted with the burn site. His left hand was nothing but a stump, completely wrapped up in white. An IV tube was taped to his left arm at the elbow joint just above the bandages and connected to the bag of Burn Heal in the IV stand, which Calem dragged alongside him when he left the room. He still had a bandage over the left side of his face, but it no longer itched and burned.

He didn't get far when Sycamore appeared down the hall through one of the side doors. He'd changed his clothes and looked like he'd caught a few hours of sleep. Clean shaven and his dark dreads pulled back in a low ponytail, Sycamore's smile felt warm enough when he caught sight of Calem up and about.

"Calem, it's good to see you up," Sycamore said as he jogged to greet him.

"Yeah. Just wish I had some pants. It's kinda cold in here."

Sycamore laughed, noticing Calem's thin hospital gown and bare legs under it. He even wore paper slippers.

"Sorry about that. The nurse is staying the night with us, and she said whenever you're ready, she'll help you get cleaned up."

"Uh, what's that mean?"

"Ever heard of a sponge bath?"

Calem paled, and Sycamore laughed again.

"Look at it this way. It's not every day you get a nurse to dab you clean with a sponge."

"Thanks, that's totally not creepy."

Sycamore had lost his lab coat and wore dark slacks and a navy button down, but his prayer beads and woven bracelets adorned him like talismans, as always. "Well, how about some dinner? You must be starving."

They headed to the elevator and Sycamore pressed the button.

"It's late, so just about everyone's gone home. We should have the cafeteria to ourselves." He checked his watch. "Grace was supposed to meet us here at eight, but I see we're already about fifteen minutes behind. Oh well, she's probably still sleeping. I'll have my receptionist give her a call."

Sycamore prattled on, but Calem barely heard him. All he could think about was the woman, the Ignifera, and how easily he'd been tossed aside. Klefki read his mood and squeaked pitifully, almost sad.

The elevator dinged and Calem moved to get in, but just then Sycamore's mobile X-Transceiver buzzed in his pants pocket. He answered it while Calem held the door.

"Yes? Oh, hello, Shannon. Why are you calling me on my mobile?" He paused, and Calem could hear the shrill voice on the other side, panicked, and he strained to listen. "O-Okay, slow down. Who's in the lobby? ...What do you mean she has Dexio? A Rhyhorn?" The shrill voice was spewing a mile a minute on the other side, and Sycamore licked his lips. "Yes, okay, I heard you the first time! Just stay there, make sure no one leaves. I'm coming down."

He flipped the phone closed and stepped into the elevator after Calem.

"What's going on?" Calem said as Sycamore punched the button for the main floor.

"It's Grace. Apparently, she stormed into the lab with Dexio and her Rhyhorn, and she demanded I come down."

"Dexio? Your assistant?" Calem narrowed his eyes. "What happened while I was out?"

Sycamore shook his head. "I don't know, but I've got a bad feeling about it."

The elevator opened and Sycamore jogged toward the main entrance. Calem followed at a more sedate pace, still weak from the inundation of drugs in his system, and Klefki jingled excitedly as it buzzed around his head in circles.

When Calem arrived in the lobby, he was shocked to find Grace standing there with Dexio, his hands behind his back where she held him like a jailer holds a prisoner. She was disheveled and wet from the rain, but Dexio looked worse with his bleeding hand and bloodstained shirt. He as in his pajamas, yellow and blue striped and muddy at the ankles. Her Rhyhorn, which Calem had met several times, stood behind her. It was an impressive specimen, larger than most Rhyhorn due to its age, and came up to her chest at the shoulder. Fletchling squawked angrily from its perch on Rhyhorn's head, and Shannon the receptionist cowered behind her desk.

"What's going on here?" Sycamore demanded.

Grace shoved Dexio hard and he fell on the floor on his hands and knees, shaking like a leaf. "Tell them," she said, her voice booming like Calem had never heard it. "Tell them what you told me."

Dexio sobbed on the floor, still shaking, and curled in on himself.

"Fletchling, go wake him up."

Fletchling squawked and swooped down onto Dexio's back, and he immediately fell onto his side, cowering from the tiny bird. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed louder.

"Please, stop! I said I was sorry!"

"What's the meaning of this?" Sycamore said, kneeling down to give Dexio a hand. "Grace, I think you had better explain yourself because it looks like you've assaulted my employee."

Dexio clung to Sycamore's arm and continued to sob.

Grace, however, was unmoved. "Dexio, if you don't start talking now, I'm going to. Remember what I told you at your apartment."

Calem watched, confused and more than a little surprised at this transformed Grace he'd never seen before. Dexio's eyes swiveled and found him watching, wide and fearful, and something turned in Calem's stomach. Why was Dexio looking at him? What was going on?

"Oh god," Dexio wailed, "I swear I didn't know she'd kidnap her, you gotta believe me! I'm so sorry!"

All the blood left Calem's head and pooled in his weakened fists. He clenched his right hand without thinking as he began to understand what was happening.

"What did you just say?" Sycamore said, forcing Dexio to sit up properly. "Dexio, answer me."

Dexio's nose was leaking snot and his eyes were puffy from crying. Thirty-six years old and he had no qualms about falling apart in front of his boss and patron.

"Professor, y-you gotta believe me, okay, I swear I had no idea Malva would kidnap her. I thought she just wanted to know about Serena, and she paid good money and she was real discreet."

"What did you say?" Calem said, stepping forward. "That woman paid you to sell out Serena?"

Dexio whimpered and tried to scramble away from Calem.

"Malva? That was the woman?" Sycamore pressed.

"He betrayed Serena," Grace said, tearing up and shaking. "He said that woman, Malva, she's the one who took Serena for some project. He said he didn't know anything else, but I don't believe him."

"Son of a bitch," Sycamore swore, shaking his head in disbelief. "Dexio, how could you do this?"

"Professor, I'm so sorry!" Dexio wailed. "I needed the money!"

"If you needed money, you could have come to me!"

Calem had heard enough. He advanced on Dexio and before the simpering assistant could process what was happening, Calem swung out with his foot and smashed it into Dexio's face. He crashed to the floor on his back, convulsing from the shock and pain, and Calem towered over him. Klefki jingled angrily down at Dexio, whose nose had cracked and was beginning to bleed all over the place.

"Dexio," Calem said under his breath, "if you apologize one more time, I'll smash your whole skull next time."

Dexio whimpered but said nothing as he groped at his shattered nose and tried to staunch the bleeding.

"You're gonna tell us everything," Calem went on. "I want to know everything you said to Malva. I want to know everything you know about her and everything you think you know."

Dexio shook his head frantically, his tears mixing with his blood. Grace looked on with her Rhyhorn, silent, and Shannon looked on in horror from behind her desk, her hands clasped over her mouth to keep herself from screaming.

"And I swear to you." Calem put his foot, slick with Dexio's blood, over his chest and pressed down. "If anything happens to Serena, I'll break every bone in your body with my bare hands and make sure you're awake while I do it. Do you understand?"

Dexio was racked with a fresh wave of sobs but managed a weak nod, too afraid to speak. Sycamore hung his head in his hands and sighed deeply, suddenly exhausted. Calem gritted his teeth so hard they hurt, and his visible right eye began to water.

When he looked up, he found Grace watching him with a look he'd never seen on her before, somewhere between grief and pain and a little relief. He swallowed hard and nodded to her, a silent understand passing in between them.

By then, lab security had shown up and waited for Sycamore to give them instructions. He did so now, indicating that they should collect Dexio and bring him to the fourth floor for immediate medical attention, after which time he wanted to question him. Two men in black uniforms hauled Dexio to his feet and headed for the elevator.

Sycamore approached Grace and spoke in hushed tones, but Calem tuned them out as he watched Dexio, head hanging, wait in the elevator as the doors closed. Klefki floated next to him, and he could almost feel the waves of resentment flowing from it.

"I'll find her," he whispered. "I swear I will."