Chapter 34
Faith
"The Legendary Birds are the source, I'm telling you! Zapdos and Articuno have already done their part. Moltres will be next."
Wartortle's plate of food was untouched. Until he got through to the others around the table, he refused to relax enough to dig in. Quil was avoiding the conversation by taking more bites from his sandwich when his mouth was still mostly full. Viper had the audacity to openly laugh at Wartortle's staunch faith in his idea. Loria seemed politely interested in what he was saying, but certainly unexcited. She didn't believe him either.
Peroo, Bein, or Hayzin might have been on Wartortle's side, but he'd been unable to immediately find them. Following Quil's last speech in the commons, they'd all dispersed. His idea needed to be shared; it'd been fit to burst out of him. He'd settled for the first Pokémon he could find: Quil, Viper, and Loria.
"Fire is as Fire was," Loria said as if that completely debunked Wartortle's theory.
"Someone mentioned Moltres to me a few days ago, which is the only missing piece of..." He trailed off. That wasn't convincing at all. "Look, I know what we have isn't solid evidence. It's incomplete. It's two isolated data points. What else could be the source of the boosts though? There are no other groupings of Legendary Pokémon I can bring to mind that are associated with the Electric, Ice, and Fire types."
"Tricky question Wartortle, but I have the answer," said Viper with a grin in her voice. "Maybe the source of the boosts isn't three 'mon that don't exist?"
"When he spawns an inferno with a single breath," Loria said while pointing at Quil, "I will share your confidence."
Wartortle squeezed the edge of the table. "That doesn't answer my question. If I'm wrong, what's causing the boosts? Hm?"
Loria did not reply. Quil kept chewing away on his sandwich. If Wartortle didn't know Quil any better, he'd guess that his friend was feeling embarrassed. He knew that Quil was too thoughtful and considerate to deride Wartortle's idea though. The Pokémon around the table lapsed into silence.
"What does it matter?" Viper finally said, with overblown indifference. "I'll fight the opponent that's in front of me instead of bligging my time by wondering why I'm battling!"
Wartortle shook his head. He was angry at the reception he'd received when he was so sure of himself. Couldn't they see that if he was correct, the Resistance was trivial? Its efforts were akin to plucking the leaves off a tree, when they had the option to chop the whole tree down and be done with it. He scarfed down his food while planning his next move.
"I'm going to ask around Cavetown about where to find the Legendary Birds," he said, rolling out of his seat. He almost spitefully added, 'Don't be surprised if I don't make it back to the base in time to pick the next requests,' but he knew he really should make an effort to be there.
"See you later," Quil said. His first words of the meal. The other two advised him to fight well. Loria's words sounded honest, but Viper's had a disparaging tone.
Asking the Pokémon in Cavetown about the Legendaries proved to be an exercise in character-building. After the first few outbursts of laughter and expressions of incredulity, Wartortle began dreading his task. They looked at him like he was crazy. Had he been Just Another Refugee, they doubtless would have called him crazy, too. He could hear his credibility draining away with every Pokémon he spoke with. His respectability, his trustworthiness, evaporating.
Yet the deed had to be done. If he could locate one of the Legendary Birds, then the cause of the boost could be determined. If the cause was determined, the boosts could possibly be terminated. Life as a Pokémon would return to normal. His struggle would be worth it. This was the final, ultimate solution. He'd probably look back on the embarrassment of asking around with nostalgia, proud that he'd made the small sacrifice of his dignity and reputation.
A round blue Pokémon was finally able to help him. It would have matched Bein's diminutive height if not for the wrench-shaped extrusion above its head. "I'd find Rytos the Ninetails, he can help you. No one knows more stories than him!"
Wartortle changed his inquiries from asking about the Legendaries to getting directions to Rytos. His questioning led him to a low-ceilinged cavern with rows and rows of what looked like crops. A narrow fissure let in a modest amount of sunlight from above onto some of the crops. Many of them were an albino white, while others were alien combinations of colors that could not be found on the surface. Some resembled mushrooms, others plants, and still others were unclassifiable by Wartortle. He recognized two or three of the species from his lunch plate.
A few Pokémon tended to the 'field', many of them Grass-type. He could not spot what should have been a distinctive golden-white puff of fur. Then, a Ninetails walked in from behind him with a bucket in its jaws. An earthy aroma followed.
"Rytos? Are you Rytos?"
The Ninetails set the bucket down and spoke in a voice that had seen use for many decades. "Yes, I am Rytos. And you are Wartortle." After a quick introduction ritual, he continued. "I have followed your story since you first spoke in Cavetown beside Quil."
Wartortle blinked. "I see. You're a storyteller, right? Do you know any stories about the three Legendary Birds?"
"Of course I do!" barked Rytos. Wartortle drew back from the Ninetails, but now he was smiling with a twinkle in his red eyes. "Which story would you like to hear? The Romancing of Delphox? The Nest in the Sky?"
Wartortle shifted uncomfortably. This was Rytos? For someone supposedly excellent at interacting with an audience, this Ninetails struck him as creepy, if not downright loony. Unfortunately this was his best lead.
"Thanks, but I don't actually want to hear a full story. Not unless it comes to that. I want to know where to find any of the three Legendary Birds. Zapdos, Articuno, or Moltres. Do you think you can help me?"
Rytos' smile faded and he lowered himself onto his haunches. The nine golden tails behind him moved up and down in the motion of a rolling wave. Wartortle wondered if Rytos was using a fighting technique, so mesmerizing were the beautiful tails.
"I typically tell hatchlings and children that should you believe strongly enough, any story can be true. I think you're past that naivete. Every story is built on a truth, but the existence, let alone the location of any of that trio is not one of those truths."
Wartortle's hopes shriveled and fell to pieces like a rose immersed in flame. "None of your stories talk about where they live? Not a single clue?"
In a flash, Rytos was on his feet with his tails splayed out straight behind him like the rays of the sun. "Articuno, at the pinnacle of the frozen fortress! Zapdos, from the lone peak thunderstruck! And Moltres, the volcano's blazing beacon!"
"Right. Okay. Do those descriptions, er, refer to anywhere in particular?"
"Oh, Wartortle," said Rytos shaking his head and sitting back down. "You are not the first 'mon who has come to me seeking the ones we call Legendary. There is never an explicit location. There is never a ritual that is actually possible to complete. There is never a way to find them, and there never will be. Every story I know is purposefully vague on those details. We both know why."
Wartortle clawed at straws. "No one's ever mentioned seeing them? No one's shared any stories with you?"
Rytos' voice took on a menacing low tone that Wartortle was sure would frighten an enraptured young Pokémon. "I have heard tales. Many tales. Each from someone who was lying for one reason or another. For fame. To impress someone. As a trick. Bah!" he barked. "I tell stories when I can, but I respect my stories enough to not use them as fabrications and deceptions."
Were the Legendary Birds really a lie? Wartortle knew from his life as a human that some Legendary Pokémon had been photographed, documented, or even captured by trainers. He'd never studied the subject in any amount of detail, so he could not say for sure if the Legendary Birds were real. As Legendaries went, the Birds were among the most plausible. They had to exist, they just had to!
"Okay, so we have a frozen fortress, a thunderstruck peak, and a volcano. The first one sounds mythical, the second one is too generic, but we should be able to work with the volcano. Those are rare, aren't they?"
Rytos sighed heavily. "Wartortle, relinquish your notion that you can find the Legendary Birds. For your own sanity. Aren't you busy enough with your Zapper-fighting team?"
Wartortle refused to explain his keen interest in the Legendary Birds. The conversation would be easier if the Ninetails believed he simply wanted to prove his strength, or whatever reason most Pokémon had for seeking out a Legendary. "I am, but please, answer my questions. You're helping our effort more than you know."
Rytos' demeanor did an about-face. "Intrigue! Mystery! I smell the fundamentals of a thrilling story! If you're being truthful, and I sense that you are, then your questions do not arise from a foolish desire at all. Do they?"
Wartortle played the part by remaining enigmatically silent.
"Yes, volcanoes are rare," Rytos said with perfect seriousness. "I know of only three. One is a glorified mountain far in the south that does not erupt. The second is one of the smaller peaks in Heartless Heights. Definitely not fit for the glorious Moltres. The third, of course, is famous among certain lines. Especially the Cyndaquil line. It is an active volcano with a constant lava flow, a raging beast that spews smoke and magma into the sky. Iyrodenin."
"Iyrodenin!" Wartortle repeated in shock.
"Yes," said Rytos knowingly. "If Moltres truly flies these skies, I can think of no greater peak for that Flame to roost than Iyrodenin. A cradle of magma and blanket of steam would make a fine nest. As for Articuno and Zapdos, the descriptions of their nesting sites are too general for me to have a hope of narrowing the possibilities. A frozen fortress? I do not know of any fortresses, let alone frozen ones. And a thunderstruck peak standing all alone? Any lone mountain would have attracted a lightning strike."
Wartortle hummed in agreement. "Iyrodenin seems like my best bet to find one of the Legendary Birds. Moltres it will be. I'll keep an eye out for any solitary mountains and notably frozen structures though."
Rytos' tails undulated in a discordant pattern. "Your search will be guided by fiction. Old stories passed down from a forgotten time by ancient 'mon."
"And I'm still going to try," Wartortle confirmed. "Thank you for the information, Rytos."
Rytos inclined his head. "You are welcome to it, Wartortle. Fight well. On the next full moon, come by the cave below this one to hear my monthly storytelling. You place such faith in stories that I know you will appreciate the tale."
"That sounds ni-"
"Now go!" shouted Rytos. His red eyes glowed with light. "Find the fabled Pokémon you seek!"
Wartortle did not need to be told twice. He fell backward and twisted onto all fours before scurrying out of the cave farm.
An hour later, Wartortle stood in front of the entrance to Team Base. In front of the gathered current members of the Resistance. They needed to all be there for the words he was going to say. He knew they'd picked up on his somber mood by the way they looked at him searchingly where he stood.
The time had come for him to make his announcement. He now had things to do, Pokémon to see. Preparations needed his attending. Every hour he wasted might be an hour of suffering brought on by the next boost, the Fire-type boost. He couldn't afford to linger due to sentimentality. This needed to be done now. Before he lost heart. While he still carried the momentum of the day's events.
"I'm leaving the Resistance."
Wartortle watched each member's reaction. Loria's eyes widened. Hayzin frowned thoughtfully. Viper's fanged mouth spilled open in comical surprise. Peroo's expression grew uncomfortable, as though he shared the guilt associated with Wartortle's decision. Bein was unfathomable.
Quil's reaction was unknown to him, because he avoided looking in the Quilava's direction. If anything could make him change his mind, it was Quil. For the good of every Pokémon in the land, Wartortle needed to do this. He wouldn't be swayed. The somersaults and twinges of his stomach were tough enough to endure without seeing his friend's reaction.
"After what you said here this morning. After all that you've done." Bein spoke in a low monotone.
"Why?" blurted Viper.
"Don't tell me..." Wartortle heard Quil say quietly.
"Yes. This is because of my Legendary Birds theory. I believe that if I can find one of them, I can determine why Electric-types and Ice-types have suddenly become immensely powerful. Then we may be able to reverse the boosts. I know it's a shot in the dark, but this chance is worth any risk. It would solve all our problems. It would fix everything that was broken. It would make the world normal again."
"Wartortle, the Legendary Birds aren't r-" Hayzin began.
For the first time, Wartortle cut him off. He was sick of the nay-saying. Hearing it from the well-traveled and ever-reasonable Hayzin would be worst of all. "I don't want to hear it Hayzin! I'm sorry, but I don't. Pokémon all day have been laughing in my face and thinking me insane."
Viper's bladed tail began to slowly writhe, and Loria looked down. Served them right. Wartortle kept on. "Did it ever occur to you that I know more than I let on? Do I seem like the kind of Pokémon that would favor children's stories over observation and reason?"
He grimaced, realizing that he'd let his anger and pain twist his words toward arrogance. While his words were true, he had no desire to allude to his humanity. At least now his team might be happier to let him find his own path, having spoken so contemptuously.
"This evening I will be heading north to a volcano in search of Moltres. There's no reason for me to stay any longer in Cavetown. When you begin your next mission tomorrow morning, I should be well on my way. I neither expect nor want anyone to come with me. I recognize this is a long-shot, and I won't claim otherwise. Going is an essential risk, but a risk nonetheless. Thus I hope the Resistance keeps up its great work even though I'll be gone. If the Legendary Birds really are fictitious, and I search for months in vain, the Resistance will continue to make a positive change in the lives of Pokémon far and wide. Ultimately, that's what we all want. That's why I'm going to find Moltres, but also why this Resistance was created in the first place."
Most of them were looking at him with facial expressions that he'd been seeing all day. They looked at him as if he were a madman. As if he were delusional, but stubbornly refusing to seek help. For a moment, he submitted to their scrutiny. He questioned if he really had gone insane and lost touch with reality. But after reexamining why he thought what he did, why he was doing what he was doing, he found his confidence again. He was not crazy.
Wartortle finished his announcement with his recommendations for how certain aspects of the Resistance should proceed in his absence. He now recognized his potential to inadvertently bully those around him, so he was careful to phrase everything he said as a gentle suggestion, not a command or edict. The Resistance had begun as the brainchild of him and Quil but it had become more. The teams would be growing. Their resources would increase. This movement would no longer be able to run exactly how Wartortle wanted it, though he still believed his suggestions could send it on the right track.
"I understand that the concept of bringing and using supplies on these missions is strange, but please at least give serious thought to what supplies to bring, and how you might use them. Same for equipment like the bands. They give us the edge we always need when facing boosted Pokémon."
Regarding request selection and team assembly, he advised them, "Take Type into account, both in our team members and our potential foes at the destination. Think about how the team members will get along, how their moves complement each other, how teamwork might manifest. I still think that keeping the teams small and thereby tackling more requests simultaneously is wise in the long run. More than ever thanks to the Ice boost. Of course it's up to you all now."
He stopped briefly to gather his thoughts. "If you can, I recommend trying to recruit boosted Pokémon onto the teams. That will give our missions a much higher chance of success, as well as help shatter the illusion that those empowered by the boosts aren't welcome among non-boosted Pokémon."
He had a few more select morsels of miscellaneous advice. Then he was finished. He'd said everything he'd wanted to say. Although some of them still seemed to be in shock, it did not appear that his advice had fallen on deaf ears. Even if it had, the Resistance was no longer his. It would forge its own destiny. If anyone was chiefly responsible for it now, it was Quil. And Wartortle had the utmost faith in Quil. He'd shown his inner fire both in battle and in the way he spoke to other Pokémon. He'd proven his resolve by facing his hydrophobia head-on. He'd revealed his heart of gold in a thousand ways, time and time again. Quil had the passion, the leadership, the conscientiousness, the perceptiveness, the experience. He would do well by the Resistance.
Wartortle turned to leave. Being seen weak-kneed and sappy before he departed would not leave an appropriate lasting impression.
"Thank you," he heard Loria say with sincerity. Wartortle looked back to see her wearing a small smile.
"Yeah, thanks I guess," added Viper. "Fight well on your trip obviously."
"Thank you for bringing this together, along with Quil," said Hayzin.
"Fair winds!" said Peroo.
"Hmph," Bein grunted. "Don't slack off."
Wartortle almost smiled at Bein's comment. He kept his ears open for the words of the Pokémon who meant the most to him. None came. Wartortle bowed his head and raised an open hand in a wave as he left Team Base and the Resistance behind.
As expected, Hayzin privately confronted him to persuade him out of his choice. Wartortle was thankful for the Zebstrika's concern as he stowed supplies into his bulging backpack at Nape's bank, but his mind could not be changed.
"Stories about the Legendary Birds are the kind of drivel I feed to Dashar and Rappard. They can be wonderful, inspiring even, but you'll achieve nothing by searching for the characters in a story!" Rarely had Hayzin sounded so frustrated.
"I know they're difficult to find. I still have to try. Who knows? They might be out in the open because of whatever's causing the boosts."
Hayzin tried other tactics, but ultimately failed. Wartortle's heart grew heavy over the fervor of Hayzin's opposition. He felt like he was letting Hayzin down. Not only him, but all of the Resistance, and by extension all the Pokémon of Cavetown. Yet his choice had been made. Wartortle was going to follow through. It wouldn't be the first time in his life that he'd pushed the boundaries of what was believed by his peers to be impossible. Wartortle had learned at an early age that the doubt of others was often a poor reason to give up.
Next, Wartortle stopped by the carrier station where Team Equalize had departed for Karprest. Although he was unwilling to use any more of the Resistance's resources in order to hire a personal carrier to the general vicinity of Iyrodenin, a report of the route to Iyrodenin from a Flying-type would be the next best thing. Magon the Salamence was nowhere to be found, but a friendly Pidgeot provided him with directions that were both reassuring and useful. If Wartortle required a second opinion for peace of mind, he could always ask Quil. The directions passed down from Typhlosion to Cyndaquil were bound to be tried and true. Flawless. They certainly hadn't let down Quil back when he was still on his way to the volcano. However, Wartortle would not ask Quil. Talking to him any more than necessary would be painful. For both their sakes, minimizing contact would be best.
Bein was waiting for him as he left the carriers' cavern. He fell into step next to Wartortle without a word. Together they proceeded toward the diner, Wartortle's last stop. The Cubone kept pace wordlessly. Wasn't Bein going to try to talk him out of his decision?
"Are you going to stay with the Resistance?" Wartortle asked, if only to break the silence between them. "A few days ago you sounded like you were on the fence. Will you go back to digging and building around Cavetown to help with the influx of refugees?"
Bein grunted in the negative. "I'm a builder. But I see now that I can build by joining these missions too."
"When did you change your mind?" Wartortle recalled the reluctance that Bein had displayed at joining them on missions. Even together on the road to Cavetown for the first time, Bein had refused to involve himself with the aspirations of Quil and Wartortle.
Bein's left hand fidgeted with his bone until he finally responded. "Used to hate traveling. Hated the interval between the jobs I did with my Machoke partner. Hiking. Walking just to get to the next job. Hands unoccupied. A waste of time. Wished we could have the jobs come to us. Impossible, for builders. Still wished for it."
The Cubone's eyes grew distant though he kept perfect pace with Wartortle. "Since Blindhollow, my views are different. Traveling can be useful. A 'mon doesn't get much out of staying away from the action and just rebuilding. Like erecting a bridge after someone was already swept away. Or fixing the foundation after the collapse. When you see a chance to be proactive, you take it. That's how you do the most good. How you do the best job."
Within his shadowed eye sockets, he glanced sidelong at Wartortle. "Even when it requires travel, distant travel. You can't stay home. Everyone has a job to do. Doesn't matter how strange your method. Or how many idiots say you're wrong."
They'd reached the diner. The foot-traffic in and out of the tunnel was busy like every other time Wartortle had seen it. After an early dinner, he'd be able to make some good distance in the remainder of that afternoon with any luck.
"Bein," he began. The things Bein had said were far from what he might have expected from the impassive Cubone. How could he properly show his appreciation for the support and advice? For opening up to him? For the faith that Bein had in him?
"Thank you very much." It would have to do.
Bein grunted in the negative once again. He placed the blunt end of his bone on the scutes of Wartortle's chest and prodded ever so slightly. Then he turned tail, leaving Wartortle at the diner's entrance.
When Wartortle walked away from the serving window a few minutes later with his food, he selected a table that was far, but not too far from all of the other dining Pokémon. Finding an empty table with the ones around it also deserted was tricky thanks to how busy the diner was, but he found success. The morning's storm had certainly done a number on Cavetown's already swelling refugee population. Even with so many empty seats and spaces around him, he tried to show via his posture that he wanted no company. Fortunately, it worked. He was solitary yet surrounded by the chatter and warmth of other Pokémon. As he wanted it.
He found his feelings hard to put into words. The events of the day had been trying, but at times he'd felt relief. Certain struggles had been laid to rest while others were born. He'd come closest to the spirit of the Resistance even on the day he was leaving it. Leaving them. His mixed emotions warped the flavor of his food. This was his last proper meal before the comparably bland food he'd be munching on the road ahead. The meal served as a delicious parting gift from Cavetown, but also a bittersweet omen of the hard times to come. Wartortle ate slowly to prolong the last few bites as he tried to settle his emotions.
Despite his preparations, he still didn't feel ready for the path ahead. Despite the tumult of the day having quieted, and the issues along the way having been resolved, some matters had still not been properly addressed. Ensuring the future success of the Resistance by discussing its operation more thoroughly. Double-checking his directions to the volcano. But lingering in Cavetown any longer would be an ineffectual use of time. What truly needed to be done, had been done. His mind knew that the road to Iyrodenin was ready for him. Nothing was really holding him back. Then what was the heavy lump sitting in his chest?
He should get going. He needed to get going. The moment had arrived. He picked up his plate.
"I want to come with you. You know that, right?"
Wartortle lowered his plate back down. His other hand gripped the edge of the table with his thick claws.
I was ready to go. I really was. And you do this to me now?
Wartortle said nothing. He was not going to begin a conversation that he could not win. The best way to proceed was to get up and leave. That was what he'd decided to do, so that's what he would do. He just needed to stand up.
"You're going to Iyrodenin. You're going to Iyrodenin, and you want me to stay behind."
The voice was coming from the other side of his shell-back. Its owner was sitting at the adjacent table and facing the other way, placing them back to back. He could tell by the feeling of a fire's warmth against his shell.
Wartortle did not turn around. "You have to stay. You're the face of the Resistance. Your passion wrote its mission statement. Under your direction, I know the Resistance will always stay on track."
"I don't care about that. I don't care about leading the Resistance. I want to travel with you. That's what you asked me, when we talked outside Root Forest. You asked me if we could travel together. Don't you remember?"
Wartortle squeezed the table harder, saying nothing.
"I said yes. Don't you remember that?" The voice quivered, becoming choked up.
Wartortle shot to his feet. The table shook. His plate clattered, drawing the eyes of the diners. "This is more important than you or me! This is about Pokémon all over. The refugees. The broken families. The injustice, the oppression, the suffering. 'This is bigger than us,' I said after we left Blindhollow. Don't you remember that?"
He was angry. At whom, he wasn't sure. The voice behind him said no more. In the wake of the anger, a different emotion followed. One he could not bear. Wartortle stormed out of the diner without even looking at the voice's owner.
When Wartortle emerged from Cavetown into the coming evening, his first steps toward Iyrodenin were heavy. One question haunted him in the hours and days that followed.
How is it possible for me to be feeling more pain than the anguish I heard in that voice?