C'est La Vie (A Pokemon Y Storylocke)

by LunaKat17

"Never hesitate, never forget"—that is the motto of a Kantonian Trainer. To always keep moving forward, to pursue your dream no matter the cost, price, or consequences. And one Trainer from Kanto finds herself asking if such ideals can survive in Kalos, as she grapples with legends, villains, and secrets that were better left buried. (Based off my Pokemon Y Nuzlocke).

9. Chapter 4: Eternel (Part 2)

Warning for mild blood and gore. Also for strong language, overly descriptive scenery, and cryptic French phrases.

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Chapter 4—Éternel
(adjective)
—French for "eternal", "everlasting", "timeless", and "endless"

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"Celestine!" An electric jolt of sheer horror went through Celestine as Shauna emerged from the treeline, looking even more disgruntled than last time—leaves in her hair and scratches along her skin and her clothes sporting the occasional bur. Delphi was racing after her, limping a little and favoring his left front leg, his coat tangled with a hundred burs of his own. "Do you know how rude it is to run off like that!? What the he—eeeeell, oh my god!"

The Beedrill whirled around to face what they perceived as a new threat—not like Shauna was threatening, but still. The Hoennian yelped and stumbled, and Mint screeched in alarm from her arms. Delphi skidded to a halt, eyes huge and bur-ridden felt fluffing out in terror.

Like any good Trainer, Celestine turned the distraction into an advantage. "Delphi, Ember! Imasugu!"

Yesterday, she'd thought him a poor battler, and his performance had reflected it—poor reaction time, a hesitance that had screamed novice at the top of its lungs. But now, she knew different. Though he was young and inexperienced, he was a bona fide starter, trained in basic combat from the time he was small in order to properly defend the Trainer assigned to him. Starters were the first line of defense for young beginners, and the last line for veterans.

Delphi probably didn't know what she'd said. He didn't speak Kantonese. But he heard the emotion in her voice, and with the context of a hundred or so furious Bugs, understood the message immediately. He reeled back and let loose puffs of orange-yellow flame. They weren't strong—he was probably too frantic to focus, another sign of immaturity—but they did the trick and made the Beedrill scatter, made them less inclined to attack as recklessly as before.

"Shauna!" Celestine hissed—her voice was tight and urgent and intense, a desperate attempt to snap the shorter girl from her stupor. It didn't work. Shauna still stared, face blank with horror, at the deadly Bugs. "Shauna, get over here!"

Shauna stayed rooted to the spot.

"Now. Run. Dammit, Shauna, ima yare!"

Shauna whimpered, but Delphi understood. He headbutted the back of Shauna's left shin, and suddenly the girl was moving, running, racing.

The Beedrill saw this as weakness and tried to dive-bomb them—Shauna screamed and ducked, and Delphi spat flames in their direction that made them halt, faltering, desperate to retreat from the damning sparks.

Weight hit Celestine's shoulder, if only for a moment. She hardly had time to turn her head and catch a glimpse of the blue primate, which she had admittedly forgotten about in all the confusion, before it vaulted off her shoulder and into the air. It soared, almost, paws outstretched, before it slammed into an airborne Beedrill.

The Bug faltered, the impact throwing off its balance, and the primate used the disorientation to scamper up to the Beedrill's wings. With stubby claws, the primate made a single, clean slash, tearing the delicate membrane to useless shreds. The Beedrill let out whines of distress, struggling to stay airborne with only one wing, but the primate had already moved on—darting from the back of one Beedrill to the next, crippling them with a terrifying precision.

Beedrill fell from the sky like hail, striking the ground with dying, sickening thuds. Shauna was hunkered down somewhere beneath them, shrieking every time Delphi blasted weak flames at falling Bug that came too close. Luckily, all they really did was singe the exoskeleton and not set the Beedrill ablaze, but Shauna didn't seem inclined to move either way.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Celestine lowered her head and ran headlong into the storm of falling Beedrill—forget what she said earlier, it wasn't like hail, it was like artillery shells falling over a warzone, boom, boom, boom. She grabbed Shauna by the wrist and yanked her to her feet, and then they were running.

It was a warzone and then some, utter chaos. The primate was knocked off its latest Beedrill mount and fell—Celestine managed to catch it as she ran, not missing a beat, and it felt like something she should immensely proud of.

Soon enough, they were safely on the other side, the Beedrill all scattering and crashing into each other in a frenzied panic. Shauna trembled in Celestine's arms, and she was clinging onto Mint for dear life—or maybe Mint was clinging to her, or maybe they were just mutually clinging to each other, shaken, terrified—and Celestine hugged the shorter girl close to her, protectively.

"It's okay," Celestine murmured gently. Shauna shivered like a leaf in the wind, sobbing, fragile. "You're okay. I've got you. You're safe Ceri—"

She stopped. Looked down.

Shauna was olive-skinned and brown-haired, too short, too petite, to match the image in her head. The Hoennian's eyes were even the wrong shade of green, minty instead of jade. And she did not peer up at Celestine with eyes wide with pleading and unconditional adoration, she just squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed.

"Shauna," Celestine amended. Not Cerise. Never Cerise. Never again. "You're safe."

"Um," came a squeak at her feet. Delphi, still bristled and radiating waves of stifling heat. "I'm not so sure about that—not yet, anyway."

She looked back at the swarm. Yeah, the attack had taken a nice chunk out of their numbers, but damn, there were still at least fifty more in the air, fit and ready to fight and pissed as hell.

Urgency bloomed in Celestine's chest. She inhaled sharply, audibly, and took a step back. Oh dear Birds they had to get out of here, now.

"Max," she said. The bird hadn't moved, too terrified, and she knew he could hear her. "Max, come over here. Please."

The Pidgey chirped fearfully. She didn't have to look over her shoulder to know he was rooted in place. But she looked anyway and the primal fear in his little eyes broke her heart a little, but there was no time.

"Max. Please. I know you're scared, but I need you to use Sand-Attack, asap." The Beedrill started to advance. Delphi pinned his ears back and growled, but it came out feeble. Shauna sobbed. Celestine swallowed thickly. Not good. "Max, ima! Sand-Attack!"

The Beedrill charged. Celestine flinched, eyes snapping shut and her body tensed in anticipation.

The sound of wings flapping met Celestine's ears. There was a cool rush of wind—displaced air, not a Gust but still powerful—and as Celestine opened her eyes, she was met with a thick cloud of pale sand. Sand... the dirt's chemical composition had been changed. Only Ground-Type moves could do that. Moves like...Sand-Attack.

...Max? She glanced over her shoulder, but the Pidgey was still there, though his expression had changed from terror to amazement. So, not him. Which was just as well. The flapping had come from above. But then how—

Talons landed on her scalp. "Geez, I leave you alone for five minutes."

Celestine's eyes widened and she had to restrain herself from looking up, lest she knock off the bird using her as a perch. "What—? You—? The hell?"

Tanner's head greeted her from above, eyes narrowed into a glare. "A fine way to greet your savior. Don't they have manners in your country?"

Celestine blinked, too stunned to react to the subtle ribbing. "I thought you said you wouldn't set foot in the Forest. Bugs and stuff."

"Like the ones that almost killed you?" Tanner returned flatly. "Yep. Glad I showed up." He vanished overhead. "Kiddo! Over here!"

Flapping, clumsy and desperate. Soft, fluffy warmth landing on her shoulder and then snuggling up against the side of Celestine's neck. She could feel Max—she assumed it was Max—trembling, his little heart beating so fast it was practically a hum.

"You're okay," she whispered, turning her head and using her chin to caress his shaking back. "You're okay now."

"For as long as that Sand-Attack holds," Tanner countered. "Now let's hightail outta here before—"

"Um," Delphi said. He was radiating more heat than a space heater turned up to the highest setting, and when he brushed against her shin, it was almost scorching. "Too late."

Celestine turned back to the cloud of sand, but it was starting to thin, and she could make out the vague silhouettes of furious Beedrill through the screen, highlighted by their glowing crimson eyes. Shit. Tanner's sudden arrival had distracted her. They'd run out of time.

She took a step back. It probably wouldn't work a second time, but... "Any chance you can make another Sand-Attack like that?"

"Are you kidding?" Tanner squawked. "I used five Aura Points to make that!"

Wait. Condensing? Oh, hell, never mind. Another time. "So that's a yes?"

"Duh!"

"Then do it!"

As she spoke, a blur of color shot into the cloud. A second later, a rush of displaced air slammed into Celestine like an aftershock, and she flinched against it, raising an arm over her face.

When the wind died and she lowered her arm, the cloud was thicker than it had been before, to the point where the Beedrill silhouettes had vanished again. What she could see, however, were random scintillations of colored light—pink, green, blue, yellow—blazing from within the cloud like strobe lights, and then there were sudden rushes of bladed air that cut into the thick bark of nearby trees. A few Beedrill corpses were thrown out of the cloud, as if launched, some crushed and others sliced in two, and she heard wingbeats, strong and powerful, sounding like they could easily dent steel with one blow.

A single Beedrill corpse was hurled up into the sky, arcing high over Celestine's head before it landed behind her at the base of some roots with a sickening thump. It was crushed and twisted and broken, like a discarded soda can.

Celestine whirled back to the cloud. There was another gust and the cloud vanished—in it's place was some strange creature, mostly black, but against that were beautiful, exquisite markings that looked so delicate they must have been painted on. Bright, bright colors, stark white outlines surrounding sea green and pastel blues, wings fanning out in shades of sunset yellow and terracotta red and lapis lazuli blue.

The swarm in front of the strange, ornately colored creature had been halved. Maybe twenty-five Beedrill were still airbourne, and the rest were on the ground, incapacitate in some way or just flat out dead.

And the strange, winged creature was unscathed.

Celestine gawked.

The remaining Beedrill buzzed urgently, and it wasn't just random white noise, Celestine realized after a while. There was a sort of depth in the intonation, fluctuations in the pitch and tone. They were communicating with each other.

Wild tongue.

All Celestine heard was gibberish, but the Beedrill seemed to reach some sort of decision and hightailed it out of there. And that in itself was astonishing—Beedrill did not get scared. They did not retreat. They fought to the death to protect their territory. They were wild and vicious and relentless, and they were not pragmatic.

Then she remembered that there were a bunch of newly-evolved Kakuna back at their nest and realized that maybe their protective instincts overpowered their sense of honor.

She could sympathize with that, honestly.

The Bugs vanished into the treeline, black and yellow swallowed up by green and brown. Celestine held her breath, half-expecting them to change their minds and whirl around, stringers poised to impale and maim and kill, honor before reason. But the sound buzzing ebbed and faded off into the distance, and soon the only thing that remained of them were the corpses abandoned on the forest floor.

Celestine's legs trembled. Wobbled. Buckled. She fell to her knees, heart hammering so hard that she was sure it was trying to break out. She still had Shauna clutched against her chest, and the shorter girl was trembling, sobbing, but Celestine was having trouble reminding herself that she should probably do something about that—say something, hug her, rub circles on her back, something. Her body had seized up, refusing to move, muscles and joints locked and leaving her completely helpless but to listen to the loud, rapid pace of her heartbeat in her ears and stare wide-eyed at the carnage.

Beedrill corpses were strewn out like confetti. Most were crumpled or crushed, destroyed in some horrific way by an unseen force, but some had their abdomens seemingly torn open, like they had been exploded from the inside out. Milky-green goo leaking out of their damaged exoskeletons, viscous and gluey. Others were just sliced to pieces, cleanly and efficiently, dripping that same Bug goo, which, might she add, had a rather unpleasant smell to it. Celestine wrinkled her nose at the less than desirable odor, which was starting to waft and fill up the entire space, like she need another reason to hate corpses.

As the seconds ticked by, Celestine realized with a jolt that a few were still moving. Their wings had been slashed by the primate clinging to Celestine's right arm, and they tried to fly but just couldn't. Either their wings would heal or they would struggle right up until they died of starvation. Either way, it would not be pretty. A Beedrill's legs were too thin and spindly to support their weight. Beedrill did not walk, only flew, and not having wings was a death sentence.

Well, it wasn't like anyone ever said death was pretty.

The strange creature—their savior, Celestine realized—turned, and its front was even stranger than its back. It had a long, slender neck and Celestine expected to see a face, but instead she saw a single, big blue eye that seemed capable of staring through absolutely anything. Just below that eye, and almost invisible, was a small black beak.

Wait, was this thing a bird? Celestine looked again. She realized that, in addition to a pair of brightly colored wings, it had a long, feathered tail and a pair of smaller black wings, and a pair of white spikes on either side of its body. As it hovered closer to the ground, the spikes glowed and a pair of avian feet materialized—well, to say they "materialized" was a strong word, because they did not look solid, more transparent and glowing, like crystalized Aura—allowing it to land. It folded its wings at its side and cocked its head in a very bird-like fashion.

She was liking her chances on "bird".

"What the hell is that thing?" Tanner asked, apparently as unfamiliar with the creature as Celestine was.

Celestine swallowed. Her body was beginning to loosen, but it was still stiff and on high-alert, the taste of fear in her mouth. As if a Beedrill swarm wasn't enough, now she was at the mercy of some strange being that had inexplicably saved them, but was also more than likely to turn on them. "It's not Kalosian?"

"I've never seen one before," Delphi said quietly. He was still tense, as if expecting a battle. Celestine hoped not, because this thing had just taken on half a Beedrill swarm and was fairly unscathed. Delphi stood no chance, even with the help of Mint (currently a blubbering mess), Tanner, Max (also trembling and useless), and the monkey (which was injured, and, she realized, running a fever). They would be blown to bits in moments. "Why don't you use the Dex?"

Celestine blinked. The Dex. The PokéDex. The one that Hakase had given her specifically to help her should she encounter an unfamiliar Pokémon. Like this one. Right. Duh.

She slid her arm around Shauna—who was breathing a little steadier, seeming to compose herself, and Celestine thought, Good, we need to keep our heads—to reach into her bag. The Dex's metal shell was cool against her sweaty fingertips. She pulled it out, pointing it at their winged savior.

The Dex scanned it with a marvelous speed. In half a second, the Dex's top slid up to reveal a thin glass screen, and a Dex entry that Celestine drank in greedily.

"Sigilyph," she said aloud. Avianoid Pokémon? She'd never heard of it, but that confirmed her suspicions about it being a bird. Or some bird subcategory. The Dex said it was Psychic-Flying, which accounted for the way it had dealt with the Beedrill, the way the corpses had been crushed and twisted and mutilated so effortlessly. Psychics were capable of killing in some truly gruesome ways, after all. According to the Dex, this thing topped out at level sixty, which also explained why it was relatively unscathed. As she read on, she found herself squinting in confusion. "It says this thing is... Unovan?"

And not just Unovan. Rare. Limited to the site of ancient ruins, acting as sentinels of the past, guardians of holy sites and sacred places. So what was one doing here, in Kalos, too far north for an Unovan ruins to exist?

"I've h-heard of 'em," Shauna mumbled, much to Celestine's surprise. The brunette sat up a little straighter—still sniffing, still shaking, but her tears were drying and there was something a little braver in her eyes. "My dad's an archaeologist. W-When I was l-little, he went to the ruins of this ancient Unovan capital, once, and a bunch of 'em attack his crew. One of my dad's friends, who was w-with him... he caught one, and it was so pissed. I remember dad went with him to visit Prof. Birch, and this one Unovan professor, Cedric Juniper I think, they both started doing a bunch of research on 'em.

"A-Apparently there's this l-legend about how they were d-dolls made by the ancients, a-and then a Kalosian w-wanderer came to Unova and used alchemy to bring them to l-life," Shauna went on. "T-They're not made of clay, though, like the legend s-says, so it was pretty much disproved but... Ah...ahahaha, why is that what I'm thinking about right now? W-We almost died, and I'm thinking about that. Oh, wow. Oh my god." Shauna started shaking again. "O-Oh m-m-my god, oh Great Serpent, oh Leviathan, oh Behemoth, w-we almost died."

Celestine wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, let the other girl bury her face into Celestine's collarbone. "But you're alright now. And that's what matters."

Shauna sobbed.

Celestine took a deep breath, and looked up at the thing—the Sigilyph—with steely eyes. "You. Why did you save us?"

The Sigilyph blinked its single eye and said nothing.

"What're you even doing here," she kept going, soft, intense, "if you're Unovan? How did you get here?"

It said nothing.

A wave of cool fury went through her. A Beedrill swarm had just attacked her, threatened the lives of those close to her, and then she'd gotten saved by some magical bird? No. Fuck that. The world was not that convenient. This thing was going to answer her, goddammit, because she was tired of never getting any answers. For the last five years of her life, she had held her tongue, kept her head down, and tried to survive—but that was over now. She had a voice, she had a right to know what the fuck was going on.

"And you gonna fucking answer me or not?" she demanded.

The Sigilyph cocked its head and blinked. Your Panpour companion is Poisoned.

Celestine jumped, eyes growing wide. She'd heard of telepathic connections, she'd heard that Psychics could communicate without words, with just feelings and sensations and body language that they could translate into something that was almost like a conversation—but no one mentioned this invasiveness, voiceless thoughts sliding their way into her head, effortlessly and easily. No one had described the way it shot through you, if that was how you described such a thing, how a voice could bypass the process of being heard and auditory data being converted by the brain into some meaning. How it went straight to your head, seamless and easy and... offensive. Like the barrier that kept her thoughts protected was suddenly gone, like suddenly she was stripped naked and everyone could see everything, see her and not see her at the same time, see through her and right to everything she was thinking—

Her head rang with the realization, with the white noise of her racing pulse. She swallowed thickly.

You should treat him, the Sigilyph said, a little more insistent this time. Celestine felt the urge to rifle through her bag and start mixing an Antidote, and she had to tighten her grip around her Dex to resist it.

"Stop it with the subliminal messages," she hissed.

Shauna looked at her in alarm. "Is it talking to you?"

One of the "advantages" about telepathic communication is that it could be quite exclusive and private if needed. It seemed the Unovan bird-thing was only talking to Celestine. "It says the monkey is Poisoned."

Shauna immediately set Mint down and started digging through her own bag, pulling out a bottle, some water, and a packet of Antidote tablets. Methodically, and with an unnatural calm, she tore the packet open, dropped a tablet in the bottle and filled it with some water. She pulled out a stirring stick and started mixing. Aside from the subtle trembling in her hands, Celestine couldn't help but think Shauna would make a good nurse, the way she was being so calm.

"Bring it here," the brunette said, voice flat.

Celestine set the monkey—Panpour?—down in front of Shauna. She didn't take her eyes off the Sigilyph.

"Why did you save us?" Celestine asked again, the earlier fire in her voice turned icily cold.

You were in trouble, answered the avianoid plainly.

"Where did you come from?" Delphi interjected. Unlike his trainer, there was more awe in his voice than wariness. His stance had loosened, his fur lying flat, the heat from his ears starting to die down.

Celestine tore her eyes off the bird to stare at her starter. "Wait, can you hear him?"

Delphi gave her a duh look. "Of course."

She blinked. "How?"

"My line gains a Psychic Typing after evolution," Delphi answered simply. "I don't have it yet, but I still have a slight affinity, like picking up on telepathic conversations. I mean—I can't tell exactly what he's saying, but I get the gist of it, y'know?"

Celestine had not known that. She really needed to talk to Hakase.

If I may answer your question, the Sigilyph intervened, making Celestine flinch. My master sent me.

She frowned. "What master?"

Le Roi Tragique, he is called. He wishes to meet you, Gardien.

An electric jolt of alarm went down Celestine's spine. Gardien. On its own, the word had little meaning to her, but this was Kalos, and the Kalosians placed a certain attachment, a certain nuance, to their word for "guardian".

Her thoughts whirled. How do you know what I am? she demanded from the Sigilyph, though she wasn't sure if it was working. She hadn't exactly been involved in a telepathic conversation before. How does your master know what I am?

The Sigilyph unfolded his wings and flapped once, lifting into the air. His temporary feet dissolved back into decorative spikes, giving no indication that he heard Celestine's tumultuous, whirling thoughts. If you would please follow me.

Celestine glanced at Shauna, who was twisting a sprayer cap onto the bottle of newly-mixed Antidote. She glanced at Delphi, who returned her gaze with one of absolute awe, and the slightest hint of reverence in his enormous amber eyes.

She felt the urge to groan. Today was supposed to be a good day.

"Hey, Shauna?"

"Mm. Yeah?"

"Apparently this thing has a Trainer," Celestine said. She kept eying on the avianoid, the way it hovered without the need to flap, how its wings barely moved at all, as if suspended in space. Freaky, creepy thing. She'd take Bugs over Psychics any day. "And he wants us to the them."

Shauna looked alarmed. Mint gawked. "Now?" the Chespin asked, distressed.

Celestine eyed the Sigilyph. That single blue eye stared back, unblinking. She shivered. "...I think so."

"I'm not following that thing," Tanner objected loudly.

Shauna had finished applying Antidote to the Panpour's infected wound. She unscrewed the sprayer head and replaced it with a regular bottle cap, keeping her eyes low and not looking at the Kantonian.

"Agreed," Mint said, speaking for both her Trainer and herself.

Max warbled fearfully against Celestine's neck. She put her Dex away and reached up to stroke his little head with her finger.

That is just as well, the Sigilyph said. He only wishes to meet you, Gardien.

Stop calling me that! Celestine wanted to scream, but bit it down. She wasn't a "gardien"—except she was, except she wasn't, except she was and didn't want to be.

She flicked her eyes over to Shauna. "He really wants his Trainer to meet me."

Shauna licked her lips.

"...I could go and come back," Celestine suggested. It wasn't like she wanted to stay here, anyway, surrounded by Beedrill corpses.

A fierce grip seized her left bicep. Celestine almost jumped out of her skin, turning to Shauna in alarm. The Hoennian's eyes were wide and wet, fierce and terrified. "Don't you dare," she rasped, "think of leaving me alone after this."

Celestine tried to shrug Shauna's grip off and largely failed. What the hell was with this Hoennian strength? "So what then? What do you want me to do?"

"I'm coming with you," Shauna said and left no room for argument.

It occurred to her just how terrifying an experience this might have been for Shauna. Celestine was sued to violence, used to the cloyingly sweet smell of death and decay and the gruesome sight of fresh corpses. Violence was just part of being a Trainer, and it could get pretty fucking grisly, especially when you wandered off the path. But Shauna—Shauna was still new and naïve and had expected this Journey to be fairly vanilla, safe and seamless. She had not seen the things Celestine had, hadn't become numb to it and accepted it as a part of life. This had shocked her, scared her, and leaving her here in this ring of wasp corpses would be unforgivable.

But... She glanced back at the Sigilyph, the word "gardien" still ringing in the back of her head. Shauna didn't know, not like Hakase and this bird-thing did. Celestine was aware of how much of spectacle it would be for Shauna to find out this way, from the mouth of some stranger. And besides, the thought of dragging Shauna into even more shit after this Beedrill attack made an uncomfortable pang go through her.

But it wasn't like she could just leave Shauna here, either.

The Sigilyph looked as if he didn't care either way, giving her a look that said it's up to you, kid.

Celestine shifted awkwardly, suddenly aware of the thousands of burs that had gotten caught on her pant legs. She sighed. "Okay then."

Her gaze slid to the Panpour, who was rubbing its newly-treated wound absently. It needed to be acknowledged, didn't it? After all, this one, scrawny little thing had made a sizeable dent in the swarm's numbers.

"Hey," she said.

The Panpour looked up. Its eyes remained eerily shut.

"Thanks for saving Max," she tried.

It nodded, but said nothing. Celestine frowned.

On her shoulder, Max let loose a few chirping trills. Tanner answered back, and the two went back and forth for a minute.

"Something you'd like to share with the class?" Celestine drawled. She hated language barriers, thank you.

"Kid says the monkey don't talk," Tanner said. "At all. Just kinda stares at you and nods and makes weird hand gestures."

"He might be mute," she murmured. She remembered a story about the current Indigo League Champion and how he'd effortlessly swept through Johto's Gym Circuit, how he'd used a Pokémon with the same type of disability on his team and had been called revolutionary because of it. Few Trainers considered using Pokémon that were blind or deaf or mute, but some found inventive ways to turn disability into advantage. "Hey, uh... Panpour, right? C'mere. Lemme see your arm."

Reluctantly, tentatively, the Panpour came over and displayed his arm. Celestine didn't need a close up to know that, even with the Poison removed, the wound still needed Center-level treatment.

"Yeah, that looks bad. Tell you what. As thanks for helping us out back there, how about I take you to a Center to get that looked at?" Celestine offered. She held her hand out, an offering. "I can release you again, right afterwards, but I'd like to help you get some treatment. Is that okay?"

The Panpour looked at her hand for a moment. Then he grabbed her fingers and shook it. The ghost of a smile curled Celestine's mouth.

"Well alright then." She pulled a Ball out from her bag, enlarged it, and tapped it on the cloud-shaped tuft on the Panpour's head. He went in without much resistance, very little shaking. She marveled at how calm he was as the shaking stopped and beep alerted her of the capture. She keyed in a quick name—"Ray", because it was temporary and she couldn't think of anything else—as she stood and turned to the Sigilyph. It had been watching the entire exchange with a blank, or maybe just unreadable, expression. "Lead the way."

---

It occurred to Celestine, at some point while they followed the mysterious Unovan avianoid that had swooped out of nowhere and now insisted she meet his equally mysterious "master", that this might be a really terrible idea. And it might be an especially really terrible idea because her team currently consisted of a meek starter, a baby bird, and an injured monkey, and this thing was leagues above them in terms of power. And it wasn't like Shauna could help much with Mint, even if she weren't still shaken from the Beedrill encounter.

But it wasn't like they had much choice. For all Celestine knew, this Sigilyph thing might have the ability to teleport them against their will or something. You could never quite tell with Psychics. But really, compliance was the best option when you had an incredibly powerful Pokémon insist on doing something, especially if it was Psychic. Cautionary tales and all. Celestine had heard quite a few stories about aggressive Psychics, none of them with a happy ending. It might be a terrible idea, but it was really the best terrible idea, so she tried to tamp down her unease as she pushed another branch out of her face.

Only five minutes had passed since they abandoned the grotto of cadavers. Max remained on Celestine's left shoulder, while Delphi had occupied her right. Tanner had stayed as well, remaining nestled on her head and insisting he was fine, but she could feel his talons digging deeper into her scalp every time rustling sounded from the bushes. Shauna trailed behind Celestine, Mint in the crook of one arm and her other hand latched firmly on Celestine's wrist—either for comfort or so they wouldn't get separated, Celestine didn't know.

While Max and Tanner conversed in wild tongue, and Shauna argued with Mint in hushed tones, Delphi was oddly silent. He did not look at her, choosing to keep his amber eyes trained on the thicket like a distraction, his ears constantly twitching, but Celestine knew better. He had to have questions. No one suddenly decided to follow a Psychic bird, and she knew he was not above questioning her decisions if they didn't make sense. Rather admirable in that way, he was.

She bit her lip, thinking back to what he'd said about picking up on telepathic conversations. He'd heard, and he knew. That was the only explanation she could think of. He was probably just waiting for them to be alone before he confronted her on the matter, probably realizing how sensitive this issue was.

Of course he did. He'd grown up in Laboratoires de Sycomore, after all. Celestine was probably not the first of her kind that he'd encountered.

The Forest grew thinner in this part, the trees sparser and the path only half-shaded, as opposed to the shadowy depths they had come from. As the Sigilyph led them, Celestine noticed that the trees were starting to split again, many trunks shooting out from a single base. She frowned, because now that she looked closer, there were five trunks, and they fanned out in a star-like pattern.

Or like the petals on a flower...

The Sigilyph stopped, suddenly, and Celestine screeched to halt to avoid bumping into his feathered back. They came to a place where the tree had thinned and sunlight flooded the grotto like a benediction. Weathered grey stone stood out jarringly in the center, amidst the dark, damp earth and complex webs of thin, spindly roots and bright patches of emerald moss. It took the shape of walls and decrepit columns with idyllic whirls, a domed roof that was no longer supported on both sides and was leaning over at a steep angle. Ivy wound around the stone like nooses, trying to choke the structure, or drag it into the depths of the earth as punishment for breaking the otherwise natural view, because this was obviously a human structure. Stonecutters had come here—long ago, by the looks of it, it was cracking and crumbling and falling apart, the ivy was now probably the only thing holding it together—and built its walls, the derelict stumps flanking it that were probably once a pair of spiralling towers. But now it was abandoned, and the Forest seemed to be trying to swallow it whole, erase its existence.

A great set of ivy-covered steps led up to a large doorway, vast and yawning, and Celestine wondered if there might have been doors once, but they had been reduced to dust after thousands of years. On the top step sat a figure that was enormous even from far away, face concealed by a ratty beanie and long, unruly white bangs. His hair was long and white and feathery, greasy-looking in the light and coming all the way down to their waist, and he had dressed himself almost entirely in dark, thick clothing entirely not suited for the weather. The ensemble looked as if it had not withstood the test of time, torn and motheaten, and matched a pair of boots that looked ready to fall apart at a moment's notice. The only real exception to the dark, dilapidated outfit was a long, still-old-but-slightly-newer-looking green scarf—What the fuck? How are you not boiling to death? This ain't Sinnoh, pal—and a dangling necklace that was home to an iron-wrought, bejewelled key.

The Sigilyph moved again, and Celestine approached tentatively. The stranger, Celestine remembered that the Sigilyph had called him "master", noticed them and turned. He pinned her with piercing gaze, a single dark eye trained on her, and she felt the breath still in her lungs.

He only had one eye. The other was just an empty socket, a gaping hole barely concealed by his overgrown fringe.

Celestine's heart pounded and she felt her right eye itch sympathetically. She couldn't imagine losing any part of her. Seeing it... normally, it wouldn't bother her like this, but there was an otherworldly air about this stranger that unnerved her, unsettled her, threw her off. She felt the urge to gasp and gawk and comment, but bit her tongue, physically, to stop herself.

It shouldn't bother her. She'd seen people missing arms before. No big deal.

But it wasn't just the eye. It was everything about him, his presence, his age, his height. It all just threw her off balance. This was the first time she'd met someone like this, someone so strange and foreign and even his accent didn't sound quite Kalosian. It took a great deal of willpower not to stop and stare.

"Oh Great Goddess," Tanner gasped, and Celestine mentally slapped herself for not remembering that he had absolutely no tact, "Are you seeing this? You see him too, right? He's— No way, that's definitely— ack!"

Celestine used her free hand—the one not currently being strangled by Shauna's uncanny death-grip—to lightly smack Tanner upside his little head. "Urusai," she hissed.

If the Sigilyph's "master" noticed, he didn't show it. He stood, and Celestine's heart missed a beat. She knew she was considered freakishly tall for a girl, but wowza, she had never had to look so far up to a person before, not since she was a little girl still young enough to hide behind her Maman's legs without anyone complaining. It wasn't even the fact that he was standing on the top step of a grand set up stairs almost three times as tall as she was. She looked at him and knew instantly that even if they were on even ground, she would still be looking up to him, craning her neck to glimpse at his ancient-looking face.

Miraculously, Celestine swallowed thickly and managed to find her voice. "Who are you? Why did you want to meet me?"

Silently, and with a grace that belied his great height, he descended the steps. Tension thickened all around Celestine as he approached and she felt Shauna's hand slide from her wrist to her palm. Celestine gave the hand a reassuring squeeze, but did not tear her eyes off this unknown giant.

He finally reached the bottom step, and Celestine had been right, she had to peer up at him even still. He had about three feet—three. fucking. feet—on her.

"You can call me whatever you like," he rumbled in a deep way that rattled around in Celestine's skeleton and told her he didn't mince words. "I simply thought you might like to meet me."

Celestine arched a brow and somehow, somehow, managed a daring smirk. "And how'd you figure that?"

Was that a glint of amusement in his single dark eye? He was too tall, she couldn't tell. "Most people desire to meet their saviors."

Right. Yes. The Sigilyph and the Beedrill swarm. Celestine managed to slip her hand out Shauna's and bowed low, reverent, but careful so that she would not topple the three Pokémon balancing on her head and shoulders. "Doumo arigatou gozaimasu. For saving us. Words cannot express my gratitude."

"Rise," he grunted. And she did. "The Kantonese apologies are too ostentatious."

A surge of indignance went through her, but she bit her tongue.

"We really are thankful, though," Shauna piped up timidly from behind Celestine. The Kantonian glanced at the brunette from her peripheral. "If your Sigilyph hadn't s-shown up... Oh Golems..."

"Anima," the giant said. The Sigilyph fluttered over to its master, manifesting those prismatic feet again. An arm was held out for the avianoid to land, and Celestine was suddenly and uncomfortably reminded of Calem and Alistair. The giant gave the avianoid an affectionate rub, earning an odd, contented coo, before reaching for a worn-looking Poké Ball. There was a flash of rosy light, and then the Sigilyph was gone. "He and I are alike. Old and the first of our kind, but that has made us strong."

Celestine almost thought the old guy was nuts, but Maman had spun stories about fairfolk, tall and beautiful and larger than life, the Immortals of Tir Na Nog. Only he was too old to match them, unless the stories proved false. She almost asked, but had the mind to hold her tongue.

"What is this place?" she asked instead.

"You tell me."

Celestine frowned. Her gaze slid to one of the stumps, the remains of what have once been a tower, and she caught a glint of something beneath the ivy—something metallic. Eyes narrowing, she approached it cautiously.

When she was close enough, Tanner hopped off her head and perched on the top of the stump. Max chirped inquisitively, but Delphi shushed the young bird almost immediately. Celestine teased at the ivy with her fingers. It had grown thick and wild, like the Forest was trying to swallow the offending structure, and the thick, woody vines were almost hidden by their own vibrant leaves. She started peeling at it, pulling, untangling the knot of wooded vines and too-big leaves, trying to free that metallic glint from its prison of foliage.

By the time she finished, her nails were stained green from the chloroplasts and the image was clear. A gemstone—crimson red, likely ruby or garnet or some other precious stone of that variety—had been embedded into the grey stone. It had three points, a triquetra symbol that had been placed upside-down. Polished black stones, either obsidian or onyx or something like that, had been placed on the end of each point, fashioned into curling claws that looked sharp enough to cut yourself on. Celestine idly touched her fingertip against one, felt the prick of it, but there was no blood. Perhaps time had made them blunt.

She'd never seen the symbol before, but she had a hunch. On her shoulder, she heard Delphi gasp, felt him shiver, and she knew what it was.

Celestine glanced back over her should at Shauna and the stranger, watching her with wide-eyed wariness and almost-concealed amusement respectively. She put a knuckle to her hip, her other hand holding the ivy back. "This is a Shrine for Les Ailes, isn't it?"

Shauna blanched and Mint squeaked, but the stranger nodded. "The last one still standing."

"In the middle of a Forest?" Celestine asked, arching a brow.

"Of course," answered the stranger. "Life and Death cannot exist without each other. That is especially true of the Old Forests—life grows, but then it dies and from the decay, new life is born."

Celestine hummed skeptically and let the curtain of ivy fall back over the Reaper's symbol. He had a point, and it mirrored what Maman had always said about the relationship between the Goddess and Death's Wings. They were entwined, neither capable of destroying the other. When they fought, they always came to a standstill.

How ironic that it was here she would meet someone who knew about her, in a place dedicated to the one who started it all.

The knot of tension in her shoulders loosened. These ruins had once been devoted to death, but she was one of the untouchables. Death could not touch her...and neither could he, not with his Sigilyph tucked away. Her very existence defied death, and if he thought coming to this place would scare her, then he thought wrong. She was not so easily scared. She was fearless. She was invincible, untouchable, a "gardien" whether she liked it or not. Right now, it might just be a good thing.

Celestine walked back over to the steps of the Temple, keeping her head high for more than just looking up at him, at this stranger who posed no threat to her.

"Can I call you Roi?" she asked.

Shauna gawked at her audacity, and the man blinked that single eye of his. "Pardon?" he managed, and he didn't sound so intimidating when he was caught off-guard, Celestine decided.

"Your Sigilyph called you..." She paused, trying to remember the exact words. Her brows knit together, but it escaped her. Oh well. "...'Le Roi' something. It sounded long and I can't pronounce Kalosian too well. So can I call you Roi for short?"

His lip twitched and Celestine somehow knew that was about as far as his humor-meter went. "If you wish."

"Celestine," Shauna said urgently. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure?"

To Celestine's surprise, though, Shauna grabbed her by the wrist and suddenly started pulling her away. At this point, she was used to Shauna dragging her places—she'd had to endure it for an entire week during her stay in Vaniville, after all—but this was different, urgent and desperate. She let out a startled yelp at Shauna's forwardness, and Max took off in alarm, soaring off to seek comfort from Tanner, who was still perched on the derelict stump of the once-tower. It was hard to resist, because Shauna was so unnaturally strong for a petite girl, but it was one hell of an effort, in Celestine's opinion. And that was even taking into account that she had to restrain herself to avoid bucking Delphi. The Fennekin let out barks and yips of warning every time she thrashed too hard, which did a good job of keeping her in check.

Shauna only released her when they were a good few feet away from the Reaper's Temple and the newly-christened "Roi" and his Sigilyph. Far enough so that they were out of the stranger's reach, Celestine assumed. She couldn't think of any other reason Shauna might be so inclined to get away from the Temple.

Well, aside from the fact that it was dedicated to the Kalosian god of death. But that was just superstitious nonsense.

"This a Shrine for the Reaper," Shauna said, though it sounded a little like a question.

"From back when they still had them, yeah." Celestine glanced back at the structure, the sloping grey stone and the layers of thick green ivy, and tried to picture what it must have looked like before the Blooming and the Reaper's following fell into disrepute. It must have looked so grand, standing tall and grand with a pair of high towers wrought with jeweled pictograms and magical symbols to validify its sanctity. What kind of people must have served at the Temple? Was worship anything like that of old Kanto, back when the Sacred Birds were believed to bring the seasons and priestesses prepared perfumed incense offerings? Or was there some other magic to it?

Shauna grabbed Celestine by the shoulders and whirled her around. Celestine had never seen Shauna look s serious. "So, we're at an ancient site dedicated to a death god... and you're asking some freakishly tall guy if you can call him 'Roy'?"

Celestine hummed, remembering that unlike her, Shauna was not knee-deep in the world of the Transcendence. It was there, of course, pressed right up against the normal world, this perfect bubble that everyone lived in and pretended was the only one out there. But Celestine knew better. She'd done the same, ignored that world for a long time before she opened her eyes and had to realize that it was real, and alive, and suddenly she was apart of it.

Shauna didn't need that. The Beedrill were enough for today.

"I don't think he's threatening," Celestine said with a one-shouldered shrug. Which was partially true. She could handle him if anything happened, could distract him long enough for Shauna and the others to escape. "Besides, I think he lives here."

Delphi blinked at her. "What?"

She arched a brow in his direction. So he was talking now, was he? "Well, do the math. Guy's obviously reclusive, doesn't have any new clothes, and he's here, in the only place in Santalune Forest that can be considered shelter. Maybe if we ask nicely, he'll let us stay for the night."

"Are you outta your mind!?" Mint screeched. She wriggled out of Shauna's arms and landed on the ground, glaring up at the Kantonian. "We ain't stayin' in a temple of literal doom."

"I have to agree with Mint here," Delphi piped up. "Bad idea. Very bad idea."

Celestine rolled her eyes. "Guys, it's not like the Grim Reaper is going to show up in the middle of the night and smite us if we spend the night in the ruins of his shrine. Newsflash—he doesn't exist. None of the gods exist. They're just stories made up by people to explain things that they couldn't comprehend, because they didn't have the equipment to fully understand science."

"...I think that's a bit harsh," Shauna muttered.

"The point is we're not going to die in the ruins."

"Even still, it's giving me some seriously ominous vibes," Shauna insisted. Her eyes flicked briefly over to the ruins, then back to Celestine almost immediately. "I mean, do you even have any idea why it was abandoned? For all you know, it could have been built on cursed ground or something."

Celestine arched a brow. That was her reasoning? "You mean like an ancient burial ground or something?"

Shauna nodded feverishly. "Exactly!"

Celestine turned back to Roi, who was still patiently waiting at the bottom of the ruins' steps and hadn't moved an inch while they debated, and cupped a hand to her cheek, calling out, "Oi! These ruins weren't built on an ancient burial site, were they?"

Roi glanced at them lazily and shook his head.

Celestine frowned a little at his listlessness and turned back to Shauna. "See? We're all clear. No ancient burial sites in sight."

Shauna looked uncharacteristically unamused. "Celie. No."

Celestine exhaled through her nostrils. "Shauna, look at the sky."

And she did. Celestine followed her gaze, to where the sky was turning pale yellow, the sun dropping over the smudge-like treetops in the distance. The light had turned syrupy and deeper gold while they had trekked through the Forest, and while it would be a few hours before the sun actually set and night claimed its place in the sky, it was doubtful she and Shauna would be able to find their way back to main path before nightfall hit. And even then, they'd have to find a way around the Beedrill nest to avoid provoking what was left of the swarm, which would take another hour or two out of their time. It was likely to be dark before they reached the path again, and it would take even longer before they could set up camp.

In short, it was either blunder around in an unmarked part the Forest, hope they didn't run into Beedrill or worse and made it back before nightfall, and even then end up right back where they started—or stay in the ruins and start fresh tomorrow.

Shauna looked back at Celestine and sighed, shoulders slumped in resignation. "Fine. But only if he says it's okay."

"What!?" both starters yelped while Celestine smiled victoriously.

The Kantonian turned and started walking back towards Roi and the ruins. "Hey, Roi? Any chance we can spend the night here?"

He arched a brow at that. "If you wish. You would tolerate a night here?"

"Assuming it doesn't suddenly collapse and crush us, yeah," Celestine answered coolly. She eyed him, waiting for a stronger response than lazy surprise, but there was nothing. He was calm. Too calm. She tried not to scowl.

"I'll just add that to 'reasons we shouldn't be here'," Shauna grumbled behind her.

Celestine flashed a mischievous smile. "Oh don't be like that. What happened to 'making memories, new experiences' and all that?"

"I've already had one mortally terrifying event for today, thanks."

Celestine's smile tightened, faltering and straining. She looked away before it snapped like a rubber band stretched too far, ignoring the whispers of my fault, my fault, my fault as she turned back to Roi. "So it's okay is what I'm hearing?"

Try and stop me, were the unspoken words. She was daring him, here. Daring him to fight her, to challenge her as deathless, as a "gardien". There was a question hanging in the air—Should you be afraid?—and Celestine was trying to discern who it should be directed at, because saving her didn't mean she would just allow him to intimidate her. She owed her life to no one, yielded to no one, unkillable as she was. He couldn't expect someone like her to be thrown off by these ruins, by him holding the cards when she had a few of her own hiding under the table. She was not going to beg for mercy or tremble in his presence. She was not going to be afraid. No, not her—she was not a force to take lightly.

But he hardly seemed to care about her display, her bravado or her subtle bluster. His weathered face was impassive, the gaze in his single eye not antagonistic or hostile in the slightest sense, not giving her any indication that she should be bristling the way she was. In fact, he was oddly calm, and not in a way that suggested the ease of being in complete control. No, it was more as if he simply did not care about control or dominating or challenges, which sent a jolt of indignance through Celestine. If he didn't care, and this wasn't a power play, then why had he even brought her here, saved her? Certainly not out of charity. People did not stick their necks out for people like her. They were made to take care of themselves, be the saviors, after all.

He stepped aside, allowing them to pass. "If you wish."

A scowl replaced her smirk as she climbed the steps, Shauna and Mint following. No reaction as she passed him.

She continued to climb, turning to eye him over her shoulder. Still no reaction.

Before Celestine knew it, they were at the mouth of the ruins, and still Roi had given no indication or acknowledgement of her or what she was. She almost had half a mind to march back down and demand an explanation—you did not suddenly save someone, bring them to the ruins of one of Les Ailles' shrines, and then completely ignore the glaringly obvious—but Delphi's awed gasp stopped her.

She turned, and any lingering hostility evaporated immediately.

On the outside, the ruins were old, thick with ivy and worn with age, unappealing to the point of being almost ugly. But the inside was the exact opposite—the space itself was enormous, at least fifty by sixty feet, and every inch of it sparkled brilliantly with beaten gold, glimmering in every direction that her eyes darted. At first, it seemed as if the walls were simply plated in thick, raw sheets of gold with no artistic elements whatsoever, but as her eyes adjusted, she found that shadows pooled in creases and around intricate carvings, and gemstones of all shades and hues glittered in the light. It looked as if it had been pulled out of a museum, or the castle galleria of some ancient king, perfectly untouched, and it held an aura of power, of mystery and arcana that the outside did not, like there was divine presence here even long after the Age of Myth had ended. The air tasted richly of metal and times long passed.

The light source itself wasn't the slanting rays pouring in from the entrance, remarkably enough, but a great glowing spire of crystal that grew from the ceiling, like an ancient chandelier, showering the space with tessellations of watery soft pale red light that set fire to the walls and turned the carvings from lovely to dazzling. Celestine took a few steps inside, gaping at the masterpiece, at the carvings, the images of people and Pokémon alike, of magical symbols and spells and an ancient, pictographic language that had been lost to time. Images of king on thrones and gods visiting mortal, warriors fighting in battles and Pokémon triumphing alongside their masters. It was dizzying, this ancient masterpiece, this beautiful, sparkling intricacy—she had never seen anything like this, and it made the air in her lungs still.

"Oh wow," Delphi breathed from her shoulder, soft and reverent. The orange tuft from his ear brushed against her cheek, comfortingly warm.

"Take a picture," Mint begged from behind Shauna's legs. Shauna, mesmerized, started reaching into her bag and rifling around for a camera.

Celestine walked further in, stepping around the great crystal in the center. Long ago, it must have hung high over everyone's head, but the roof had fallen and slanted, and now the tip of the spire came down low enough for her to press her forehead against it if she wished. She paused, her hand rising up to touch it, but the air around it seemed to thicken with that feeling of ancient power, that feeling that was enough to make you stop and stare and appreciate the wonders of times long passed. In fact, Celestine could have sworn that, as she eyed it, that it was pulsing, like a heartbeat.

She stilled, curled her fingers. Drew her hand back. Something told her touching it was a bad idea. Or at least, not a good one.

The sound of a camera clicking broke Celestine's trance. She turned away from the crystal to see Shauna, camera poised, and slowly backing into the room and whirling around as she took picture after picture.

"I can't believe this," Shauna gasped, lowering the camera. The surrounding treasure trove glittering in her wide, full-moon eyes, and the shine of the gold gave her olive skin a shimmering look. A million drops of light danced in her hair. "I've just... I never—"

"It is a marvelous sight, isn't it?"

Celestine whirled around. Roi stood at the entrance, his great, ancient head bowed to accommodate the low, slanting ceiling. He regarded them with that single eye of his, and his gaze was flinty enough to make her skin prickle uncomfortably, but she forced herself to meet it without looking away.

"Yeah it is!" Shauna exclaimed, bouncing over to him, seemingly forgetting her apprehension from a few minutes ago. "How old is this place? It looks brand new!" A pause. "On the inside, I mean. The outside's a total wreck."

Celestine rolled her eyes and turned away, edging closer to the carvings. She ran her fingers along them, felt the coolness of the metal beneath her fingertips. They really were beautiful...

Behind her, she heard Roi explaining something about murals on the ceiling.

Celestine arched a brow, but then she heard Delphi gasp. Turning to Delphi, she found him staring straight up, auriferous flecks dancing in his wide, amber eyes, so it looked like a harmonious melding of orange and gold and red, like the essence of a flame had been poured into his irises. She followed his gaze, and oh, wow, she'd thought the carvings were beautiful, but Holy Birds.

It was not like the walls, which displayed delicate whorls and royalty in their best light, all radiant brilliance and godly splendor. Crafted metal and resplendent gemstones did not make up these images—rather, it was paint and ochres, soot and ash mixed with water to make an ink with which that artist had painted out destruction in its rawest form. It was beautiful, in the way disasters were, in a way that they grabbed your attention and never let go again. Twisted spires and broken pillars and crumbling parapets, black and red, blood and death, senseless. There was no pattern to it, no rhyme or rhythm or reason whatsoever. It was as if someone had taken a knife and had stabbed into the stone, creating gaping wounds that wept blood so vividly red it made Celestine's eyes hurt. And jutting out from the mosaic of crimson and darkness were crystals, dozens of them. They were blue, in contrast to the central one, and small, broken-looking, like someone had wedged shards of glass into wet cement and left it to dry. A large cluster of them ringed the main, red crystal spire, like a flower was blooming around it, petals elongated and spear-like. And yes, it was beautiful, but only in the most terrifying way.

"That must be the Azoth Flower," Delphi murmured, a touch of awe in his voice that could have easily been mistaken for fear. Maybe that's what it actually was—fear—and she was mistaking it for something more positive.

Celestine had no idea what that was, or what he was talking about. Maman had told her stories, yes, but they were always incomplete, rushed and hurried, either told in the morning as she was getting the girls ready for school or in the shadows of night to pacify too-awake minds just as bedtime beckoned. They were told by a woman who worked constantly, who rushed out the door every morning to get to work and may not even be there when Celestine woke up, and came home late every night and sometimes not even at all, sometimes spent weeks away from home and left her charges in the care of a family friend. She told stories because Celestine liked them, and Celestine liked them because they made her feel close to this woman, this not-quite stranger who existed like a shadow in their home, gone with the sunrise and back long after it had set. Celestine had rarely asked for endings, though—at the time, it was because it meant Maman would have to come back and finish it. Later on, though, the endings stopped mattering, and soon enough they were just bits and pieces that made her feel like her mother was still with her, connected them over the span of hours and the length of miles.

Now, though, she regretted never asking for the endings. It wasn't exactly like she could ask for them now, after all.

Azoth Flower, huh? Maman never mentioned anything like that. I guess I'll have to look it up.

She grunted and wandered back to the far wall. It contained a massive triptych, framed by shimmering gold and glittering jewels that would put any royal crown to shame. The central image was that of a Y-shaped avianoid probably meant to represent the Reaper—composed entirely of solid, polished garnet and set into the golden walls, glossy talons of onyx and obsidian, omnipotent and god-like and ominous, the true "Wings of Death"—illuminated by the slanting, deep golden rays of the setting sun and the glow of the crystal alike. The image was flanked on either side by images of women, likely priestesses, dressed in glittering robes and their dark hair done up elegantly with glittering hairclips. They held their arms up, tiny, gleaming orbs hovering above their palms, the left one candyfloss blue and the right carnelian red.

"This is probably Les Ailles giving the world Transcendence," Delphi murmured, him and his running commentary. And there was that same tone, that same fearful reverence, only it was much greater than before. His Kalosian accent grew particularly thick around the word "transcendence", like the tongues of a flame licking at old parchment.

"Probably," Celestine agreed. She heard Shauna asking if Roi really lived here, and Roi rumbling in return that no, he didn't, he was only visiting for the purposes of prayer and atonement. For what, he did not say.

She felt the warm tuft of Delphi's ear brush and slide off her cheek as he turned his head to face her—she kept her eyes locked on the triptych. "Hey, Trainer?"

Anticipation buzzed in her chest, because here it comes. The inevitable, the penny in the air. "Yes?"

He inhaled sharply. It sliced the air like a knife. "You're Aesith, aren't you?"

And the penny drops.

It felt odd, hearing the word out loud. Not quite heavy, like adding on a weight, and not quite liberating either, like removing said weight. Instead it just stayed there, like it always had, like it always would, because nothing had changed. She would still heal if she was cut or broke a bone, and that would happen regardless of if Delphi knew or not. But the word—the word was the loaded part, the trigger and the bullet it let loose, the shattered glass and the loud bang and the confusion and the aftermath. The word was the weapon and the kill all at once.

She blinked. Swallowed. "Yes."

Delphi gasped, but he already knew. He was smarter than she gave him credit for.

Celestine glanced over her shoulder. Roi was departing, and Shauna whirled around to face them with something like triumph in her eyes.

"He says we can stay!" Shauna cheered, seeming to completely forget her earlier trepidation.

Celestine forced a smile, but it felt tight, plastic, not quite real yet. "Don't tell Shauna, okay?" she whispered before she could stop herself.

Delphi didn't answer. He didn't need to. He turned away, and she knew he would say nothing.

---

"I still can't believe you thought this was a good idea," Tanner grumbled as they set up camp inside the shrine. According to Roi, they didn't need his permission—he didn't live here, couldn't keep them out, and if they felt comfortable enough to stay the night in the ruins of the Reaper's shrine, then by all means, they should.

Shauna liked to look at is more as staying the night surrounded by beautiful, ancient artwork. She kept saying how she definitely had to tell her dad about it once they got out of the Forest. Screw Menhir Trail, she said, this was far more enticing for an archaeologist.

Celestine grunted. She had been the one to suggest this, and she had no regrets about it. The place was beautiful, and she had no fear of imaginary gods. There was a roof in case it rained and the chances of wild Pokémon approaching a manmade structure, even an ancient one, were abysmal. The thicket had been all but silent once they approached two feet of the ruins' perimeter. Celestine chalked that up to superstitions that she didn't believe in. Being around death didn't bother her—maybe once, but not anymore. The ruins, as a whole, did not bother her. Sure, some of the images, like the triptych on the back wall, made the back of her throat prick uncomfortably, but she could deal with that.

She couldn't deal with him bringing her here and then ignoring her. He was after something. He had to be. And the anticipation was killing her.

Above her, the broken crystal shards winked, like stars set in a broken sky, with cold celestial light.

The sun had set and Celestine had brought all her camping supplies—save for a tent or a tarp, they had a roof over their head, why bother?—from her Storage Key file, and it was then that she discovered she'd accidentally left her boots in the grotto of dead Beedrill. Being saved by a Unovan bird-thing had a way of making such things slip her mind.

"Just wear other shoes," Shauna said dismissively, unrolling her sleeping bad.

That wasn't the point. It was the principle of the thing.

She got up and told Shauna she was going to talk to Roi for a minute. Delphi tried to go with her, but one look sent the Fennekin bolting for the safety of the sleeping bag, startling Tanner enough to take to the air and grumble incoherently. Max chirped curiously after her.

Celestine found him at the foot of the stairway, hiking a bag onto his shoulders the way a Hiker or Backpacker did just before a battle, or the way a traveler does before they set out.

Her blood boiled.

"What the fuck," she hissed as she descended the steps. He turned to her with a slow deliberateness that told her he was not surprised in the slightest—he expected her to be there, and that only pissed her off further. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and glared, trying not to feel exposed and immature because of just how fucking tall he was. "Are you leaving?"

"There is no reason to linger," he answered frankly.

Celestine narrowed her eyes. Playing dumb. Why didn't anyone ever get to the point, act like this was some game and the person who avoided the topic longest was the undisputed winner?

"You know I'm Aesith," she said, and it sounded like an accusation, a confirmation, and a death sentence all at once.

He made a low, rumbling sound that wasn't a denial, but not a confirmation either.

"Your Sigilyph called me a 'gardien'," she continued, pressing, pushing, waiting for him to say something, react, goddammit. "You know. Why did you bring me here?"

"I already told you—"

"You thought I might like to meet my savior," Celestine interrupted irritably, planting her hands on her hips. "Yeah, I'm not buying it. Let's try it this way—why save me in the first place?"

A pause.

"If you know I'm Aesith, you also know I can't die. That's just common sense."

He hummed thoughtfully. His expression didn't change.

Her left brow twitched. "Okay, am I gonna have to start beating answers out of you? Because don't think I can't."

"I am bigger and stronger than you," he said flatly.

She arched a brow daringly. "That's what you think."

He regarded her with something like amusement, but it felt oddly diminutive. To him, she probably looked like a gusty Meowth standing up to a full-grown Arcanine, bristled and hissing and feisty but not standing a chance. Joke was on him—she had quite a bit of self-defense training under her belt, and she remembered a great deal of it.

At the same time, a small part of her hoped he wouldn't call her bluff.

He hummed again. "If you are that curious, here is your answer—in truth, I wanted to meet you."

She blinked, dumbfounded. "...that's it?"

"That's it." The sky was fading into orange and lavender, bright and bursting around his profile. His silhouette looked like a great, dark shadow in contrast.

"So..." She shook her head and crossed her arms. The light slanted around his form in too-bright beams that made her squint, but she passed it off as narrowing her eyes in annoyance. "Nothing like, asking me to assassinate someone? Or torturing me to check if I really can't be killed? Find out my limits and all that crap?"

He arched that single eyebrow of his and she felt the urge to punch for being so deliberately calm that it bordered smug. "What a dark place your mind goes to."

She growled.

"Understandable, I suppose. Given what you've been through."

"What?" she bit out.

He hummed a third time, but there was a sympathetic note to it. "I am sorry, Celestine Lavieaux. It is unfair for one so young to see so much of man's wanton cruelty."

An electric chill went through Celestine. She sucked in a breath, trying to stay breathing, keep her heart beating, keep her thoughts from whirling how does he know who i am he knows my name what the fuck is going on oh dear Birds is he with—

"H-How..." she managed, and that was it, her voice gave up, and all she could hear was the sound of blood pounding in her ears.

Roi fixed her with a flinty look. The lack of light and his unruly fringe did well to conceal his expression, made him look dark and menacing, the shadows playing with the angles of his face and exaggerating them. "A great many know your name, child. Your birth shocked the world, after all."

She applied more pressure to her crossed arms, convincing herself it was because she was pissed and not scared and not hugging herself. "That so?"

"Indeed. And I must say..." He regarded her silently, gaze unreadable. "I fear for you."

Her mouth went dry, and she wasn't sure if she should be angry or scared or both. This was wrong. The balance of power had shifted back in his favor, and she hated it. She hated being the one left waiting, in the dark, hanging onto every word.

"Maybe you should mind your own business," she bit back.

Roi stared at her, and she felt the urge to run back inside the shrine. "...let me see your eyes."

She took a step back, hackles rising. "W-What?"

His arm reached out and his hand cupped her chin—she tensed, eyes widening, muscles tightening. She wanted to pull away, but she couldn't, joints locking up with the urge to run, why did your body always clamp when you're in danger, make it harder for you to run away when you really need to? He inclined his head, looked down at her, scanned her face with that narrow, dark eye. It felt like his gaze was cutting her open and looking deep, deep inside, all the ugly parts of her that should stay hidden, stay out of the eyes of people like him.

"As I thought," he said and Celestine bristled. That didn't make sense—Aesith eyes were not unusual, not unless their aura was active, and hers wasn't. Right now, her eyes were the same deep, intense shade of blue they always were, no supernatural glow in sight.

"Let go of me," she demanded, "or I will kick you so hard you'll never be able to reproduce."

He grunted in response and let his hand fall. Celestine stumbled, off-balance, as if his hand had been the only thing keeping her from falling over. Her shadow had grown long behind her, distorted and sharp-looking, as if there were a great dark blade fanning out behind her.

"History always repeats itself," Roi told her in a solemn voice like stone and metal creaking under its own weight. "Tell me, have you heard this expression? Laissez vos fleurs fleurir, mais n'oubliez pas qu'ils deviennent noirs."

His strange accent curled around the words, exaggerated them in ways that made them sound not-so-Kalosian, made them sound older and mystic. But Celestine recognized them—Maman always muttered them under her breath, whenever Celestine achieved something and allowed the warm glow of pride to intoxicate her, strip her of her common sense and her humility.

"I've heard of it," Celestine said. She took a step back, trying not to feel vulnerable, to feel weak and exposed. "Maman used to say it. She'd never tell me what it meant, though."

Roi hummed. He turned away, hiking his pack higher. "Good luck, child."

This was too abrupt, too cryptic. Celestine's mind went blank for a moment, but she managed to regain some of her sense as he passed her. She whirled around and glared at his back. "O-Oi! I'm seventeen! I'm not a child!"

"That's what you think," he returned, the same words she shot at him just a minute ago. And then he was vanishing into the treeline, leaving Celestine furious and frustrated and dumbstruck.

"You owe me a pair of boots!" she screamed at his retreating form. When he didn't answer, she clenched her teeth and hissed through them, feeling hopeless and dumb and just—angry.

She whirled around and stormed back inside the ruins. Her shadow raced out in front of her, and it reached the top of the stairs before she did.

---

The whole group fell asleep quickly in that glittering place without discussing anything that happened that day—Roi, Ray, the Beedrill, the Sigilyph, none of it. Shauna clammed up when Delphi tried to press it, and Mint grew snappish. Tanner insisted there was no point, what's done was done, while Celestine was still too pissed about Roi's parting words and seeming assessment of her to hold a civil conversation. The Fennekin sighed and flattened his ears in defeat, though he cast Celestine a look that said he wanted to discuss her supernatural nature sooner rather than later. Once the sun had set, leaving behind a black canvas filled with glittering silver and Shauna's breathing had relaxed to indicate sleep, Celestine had softly assured him in near-silent whispers she would hold up to her agreement, go into more details once they reached the safety of Santalune City.

That night, Celestine dreamt of the Reaper slipping down to the mortal world like a living shadow, bleeding darkness as he held out a handful of marble-sized crystals glowing with unearthly light and offered humanity a smile so sweet that they couldn't help but accept. She dreamed of a hart with a heavenly crown of antlers and a great hole in the earth, a gaping wound that bled crystals shards. She dreamed of a dead world that reflected celestial blue, lustre eaten from the inside out, until there was nothing left but a ruined, lovely place where no one could die and no one could live.

When she opened her eyes again, there was a little scream trapped in her throat and sunrise burnt her corneas.

Celestine was by no means a morning person. It must have been something about this shrine, with its old power and its ancient atmosphere, something that dug its nails into her and wouldn't let go no matter how hard she tried to shake it off. She ended up shedding her sleeping bag in silence, sloughing the dark red nylon off like a chrysalis, and tiptoeing over to the entrance. The predawn sky was dark blue and starless, somewhere between night and day, and buttery yellow rays were reaching out like fingers ready to grasp. A blurry line of amber coloration separated the treeline from the skyline—lines, borders, all of it divided, never mixing, never allowed to.

Celestine made her way to the stairs and sat down on the first step, sweeping her hair out behind her like a cape. She should cut it, but she didn't want to—her eyelids felt heavy and she was probably half-asleep, or maybe she was dreaming. Her bleary eyes found the horizon line, and unbidden she thought of Shauna, still asleep inside the shrine.

Sacred Birds, Lavieaux. What are you doing?

Getting attached, that was what she was doing, which was a horrible idea. It was nothing against Shauna or any of the others. Tierno and Trevor were okay, Serena and Shauna were nice, and while Calem had been a jerk—oh right, I have to apologize next time I see him, Celestine remembered with a heavy sigh—Shauna had repeatedly assured her that he was a nice guy, deep down. But that wasn't the point. Once she was done in Kalos, she wasn't coming back. They would stay here, move on with their lives, and they didn't need to cope with a void her absence would leave. And likewise, she didn't want to end up missing Shauna's bright, sparkling smiles and Tierno's laidback disposition and Serena's dorkiness and Trevor's weird mood swings. It would just be too hard, growing used to such things and then fighting back a hollow ache when she realized she would never experience them ever again.

Besides, she was trouble. Her very essence was dangerous and a defiance of the natural order. The whole reason she was here was to stir up the region and attract trouble that she would otherwise not have any outsiders dragged into. Hakase had already complicated things with Delphi—the poor kid was going to have seen hell by the time all this was over, if he even survived the ordeal—and she had half a mind to coldcock him with a mallet for that. But if she added the human factor in, Shauna and Mint and Tierno and Trevor and Serena—ohh mother of the Genesis no. Celestine squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to breathe, in, out, in, out.

She was not getting them involved. End of story. It was a mistake even getting involved with them thus far—the Beedrill incident had made her realize that, just how far removed they were from her and how terrible it would be if their worlds blurred with hers. From now on, she needed to pull away, needed to stop this before it started. Having friends would be nice, sure, but it was a luxury Celestine could not afford, and she hadn't come to Kalos to make friends, anyway. She came to Kalos for one reason and one reason only.

Her eyes closed, she could visualize it. The tragic end, the beautiful downfall, the image of all that work ruined, violent and lovely.

When Celestine opened her eyes again, the amber line had grown thicker and deeper, and from there the divide would just keep growing. The sky would get bright, but the Forest would stay just as wild and perilous as before—and that was how it would all play out. She was making the world safer by doing this, she told herself, but she would stay Aesith, now until the day her body grew too old to support a beating heart and gave out.

Lines existed for a reason.

Celestine got up and went back inside, immediately zeroing in on her bag. She folded her legs beneath her and opened it, rummaging around a little. Storage Key. Nope. Poké Balls. Nuh uh. Poké Dex. No. Where is it?

"Aha," she said softly, pulling out the HoloCaster. Like her Poké Dex, it was thin in her fingers, barely an inch thick. Gold tessellations glinted off its sleek, polished surface.

Please tell me there's reception.

She switched it on, and—yup, just her luck. Instead of the bar symbol to indicate wifi connection, there was just a little "x". No reception.

A heavy sigh left her lips. Perfect.

The list of contacts had been brought up automatically. "Beladonis" glared back at her in blocky white letters, burning into her corneas. They were there even when she blinked.

She turned it off. It was probably for the best, all things considered. He'd probably try and convince her otherwise, insist that she needed to focus on re-entering the world, easing herself back into society—things she could worry about later, after everything was said and done.

Celestine dropped her HoloCaster back in her bag and slung it over shoulder. She went back outside.

The sky brightened considerably before Shauna woke up and joined her. Mint was asleep in her arms and she'd let her hair down last night, so now it curled a little around her shoulders, made her look older and more mature suddenly. Celestine thought she looked kind of pretty like that. It was almost a shame she had a penchant for childish pigtails.

"Morning," Shauna said, a little groggily. She blinked blearily and sat down next to Celestine.

Celestine grunted. Small talk led to bonding, and she couldn't afford bonding.

Shauna glanced at her. "You okay?"

Celestine got to her feet and walked down a few steps before she turned back to Shauna, folding her hands as if in prayer with a deep, apologetic bow. "Gomen nasai—I'm sorry."

"A-About?" Shauna asked awkwardly.

"The Beedrill," Celestine said. "The only reason you went off the path was to follow me, and that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't come with me."

Shauna snorted a laugh. "It's not like you knew that was gonna happen."

Celestine kept her eyes lowered, fixed on her bare feet, remembering the glowing amber line on the horizon, the division between sky and Forest. "...still."

"Celie," Shauna said, and here her voice sounded harder, steadier. "Look at me."

Celestine straightened. From where she stood and where Shauna sat, they were at eye-level. Shauna's eyes shimmered with a silent, smoldering strength that Celestine didn't know she had.

"That Beedrill thing was not your fault," she growled. "Don't you dare blame yourself, you here me?"

"...okay."

"I mean it, Celie. There's really no point, anyway. What happened, happened. Nothing's gonna change that—so why worry about it?"

"Because you almost died," Celestine retorted coolly.

Shauna tilted her head to the side. Her mocha hair waterfalled past her shoulders. "So did you."

No, Celestine wanted to say. Unlike you, I was never in danger. The only thing that can kill me is time and that'll take at least a century.

"And I was scared," she said instead, and it wasn't too far from the truth. "Why is it that you aren't?"

"I was," Shauna retorted, a little defensively. "But I'm not anymore. And you wanna know why?"

"Not particularly, but I sense you're going to tell me anyway."

Shauna frowned.

Celestine rolled her eyes.

Shauna sighed and set Mint down. She stood and suddenly Celestine was looking up at her, those mint-colored eyes burning with that quiet strength. There was something stern there, something resolute and definite, a calcified resolve. "Okay, Celie, you listen here. If you had asked me two years ago if this would be enough to make me quit and go back home, then the answer would have been a wholehearted 'yes'. I was terrified, goddammit, and I thought I was gonna die. But y'know what? A hell of a lot of things can kill you. Like, seriously. Everything can kill you. Even water! You drown in the fucking bathtub!

"As a kid, I was really quiet, really sullen. I didn't take a lot of risks. Hell, the only reckless stuff I did was when I stood up for my friends, or when I came out as pansexual. Great Behemoth, that was terrifying. I didn't even want to move to Kalos all those years ago because I was enamored with stability." And here Shauna spat, actually spat, like the word enamored was just too hard to pronounce without an ounce of venom. "And then my uncle died, and we had to go to his funeral, which was taking place in Lilycove. I'd never been to Lilycove. I'd never been all that close to my uncle. I didn't really want to go, disrespectful or not, but I had to, y'know?

"Okay, so, my uncle. He was an actuary. You know what an actuary is? They're the guys who work out all the insurance risks and calculate just how risky certain situations are. My uncle—he prided himself on his ability to calculate danger, to suck all the adrenaline and the emotion out of it and break it down into little numbers. And his funeral was just so... so... so boring. Not to be disrespectful or anything, 'cause it was a funeral, y'know? It's not like I expected there would be confetti and a buffet, but... I mean, all these people, the stuff they said about him... Colossus, Celie, it was heartbreaking. I mean, the guy basically got up every morning, went to work, did his stuff, and then went home and did nothing. Like, maybe he'd go out to dinner with a client or two, but that's it. Everyone who wasn't family that went up there and spoke, they only ever talked about how good he was at his job. He didn't have any friends. He just had colleagues and clients. He didn't even have a significant other! He died alone, and probably unfulfilled."

Shauna looked down at her feet, and Celestine was almost relieved. The burning in Shauna's eyes was so uncharacteristic, so intense that it made sweat break out on the back of Celestine's neck. She didn't know what to say, how to react to this intense, almost rueful-sounding Shauna, so different from the usually flighty, peppy one she was used to.

"Then this woman showed up," Shauna continued—the broken silence nearly made Celestine jump, even though Shauna's voice was so hushed. The intensity to it... "No one recognized her, not even my grandma. She showed up late, but she asked to speak, and because it was such a let down, they let her. As it turns out, she used to date my uncle, back before he got all boring and stuff. They dated for almost six years, and the whole time, she was just waiting for him to propose—but he never did. She said she thought he was her soulmate, but he never proposed. Eventually she got tired of waiting, broke things off, and married some other guy—who she's currently divorced to, might I add—and she said she always regretted it.

"She said she always wondered how things would've been different if she married my uncle. How he was perfect for her in every way, smart and funny and sweet—except he never took risks, never really lived...and then she left, just like that. Laid a flower on the coffin, wished him luck in the afterlife, and then, just, gone. But what she said... it struck me, really struck me. I realized that if I was gonna end up the same way, if I didn't change things. I wanted to live, y'know? Experience things, make memories. I didn't want to be remembered for all the things I didn't do, or look back and think of all the risks I should've taken, but never did!"

"Shauna—"

"Don't interrupt." Shauna's face was taught, ardent and fierce. Celestine had never seen this before, not in her. "Can I just finish, okay? 'Cause I'm on a roll here."

Celestine blinked. "...okay."

"Right. Right." Shauna paused, and her expression softened into something vaguely sheepish. "Um, where was I?"

"Making memories? And how it pertains to the Beedrill incident?"

"Oh. Right, yeah. Okay—look. You may think I'm this naïve little girl who doesn't know anything about the world or about Journeys, but you're wrong there. I'm aware of all the risks and stuff. I know how dangerous it is. There's a reason me and the guys waited a year or so after we got our travel permits. We all studied. I know the dangers, I know not to stray off the path and take on more than I can chew. I knew it was a bad idea to follow you, but y'know what? I was worried about you. 'Scuse me. But even though I was scared of the Beedrill—fricking terrified, might I add, my life flashed before my eyes—I'm still here. I made it out alive.

"And y'know what? I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's another experience, another memory I made on this Journey. And it was scary, yeah, but I gotta have memories of fear to know how to be brave, y'know? Every memory's important. And it led us here, to this... this... gorgeous shrine-temple-place. And that is definitely a memory I'm gonna treasure. I even got pictures! The way I see it, I could freak out about all the negative stuff, or I could think about how it led us to this really pretty place. I choose the latter. You get what I'm saying?"

Celestine was about to respond, but Mint rolled over and groaned. "Why're you so lou— ack!"

The Chespin rolled off the step and tumbled down the stairs with a yelp. Celestine swooped down, catching Mint before she could tumble passed.

"Ow," Mint whined.

Shauna took a step down. "Celestine—"

"Let's wake the others up," Celestine said, straightening. She didn't know what else to say, honestly. Shauna's sincere passion, that quiet strength—she just, couldn't. "C'mon."

Shauna heaved a sigh and stalked back into the shrine.

Celestine thought of the amber line in the sky, let the image of it burn into her mind as she followed. Lines existed for a reason.

---

Current Team:

Delphi, Male Fennekin (Lv 7)
Docile, Takes plenty of siestas
Ability: Blaze
Moves: Scratch, Tail Whip, Ember
Met: Vaniville Aquacorde Town

Max, Male Pidgey (Lv 6)
Naïve, Very finicky
Ability: Tangled Feet
Moves: Tackle, Sand Attack
Met: Route Two

Ray, Male Panpour (Lv 4)
Quiet, Likes to relax
Ability: Gluttony
Moves: Scratch, Play Nice, Leer
Met: Santalune Forest

---

Author's Notes:

Inspiration for this comes from Rictus by plutoscatharsis.

Aesith: in Irish folklore, there are beings called "aos si" that are comparable to that of fae or Lord of the Rings-esque elves. "Aos si" roughly translates to "people of the mounds", because the Irish believed these immortal beings resided in the hills, which led to a portal of another world, the world of the immortals. While "aos si" is the newer term, the older term was "aes sidhe", however "sidhe" was often spelled "sith".

Aes + sith = Aesith.

Translations:
- Ima = "now" in Japanese
- Imasugu = "Right now" in Japanese
- Ima yare = "Do it now" in Japanese
- Doumo arigatou gozaimasu = a very respectful way of saying "thank you" in Japanese, basically an over-the-top show of gratitude
- Anima's name means "life" in Latin.
- "le roi tragique" translates to "the tragic king" in French.

Now, you can run the phrase Roi says through Google Translate, but it probably won't make sense without context. I'll explain it later on at some point, promise.

Celestine's mom was chronically absent and kinda distant, but she still loved her daughter! She used stories and snippets of her childhood to connect with Celestine, and Celestine was okay with that. But she DOES have some trust issues, so...

That's all for now,
Luna out