The tired champion runs a weary hand through her tresses as she knocks on Angel's door. They had returned from Sandgem late yesterday night and Angel had just about dropped dead after running around after that troublesome gible then doubling with Cynthia on her togekiss after Mystic overindulged on his food and couldn't fly more than four feet off the ground.

Her gray eyes furrow and she increases the frequency of her knocking when the child doesn't answer.

"Angel? Angel open up."

Aaron stop his walk to the kitchen when he notices the champion standing with an anxious look on her face at Angel's door.

"What's up Cynthia?"

"Angel's not answering. She can't still be sleeping could she? Aaron tell the others I'll be down in a minute."

The green haired man shrugs and walks off toward the dining room for breakfast. Cynthia turns back to the door and gives it another knock. Concern growing and patience lost, the champion twists the knob and growls out a curse when the door shakes in the lock. A bang is heard when she rams her shoulder into the door. Frustrated, Cynthia grabs for her pokeball, but stops when she hears a ruffle of sheets.

"Who is it?"

"Angel? Are you awake? What's wrong with your voice" Cynthia asks as the door opens to reveal a flushed child wearing her blanket like a cloak. "Oh Sweetie, not feeling good?"

Angel sneezes in response and her curtain of hair poofs with her head movement. Her nose twitches as she sniffles.

"I'm sick."

"I noticed. Alright, come on." The older woman reaches down and grasps the girl under her arms to heave her onto her hip.

"I'll get y-you s-sick," Angel stutters as she prepares to sneeze. Cynthia leans away when the small body jumps with the sneeze.

"Doesn't matter. You can rest in my room where I can do paperwork." The blonde strides down the hall with the sniffling child and opens her bedroom suite's door.

Angel had been in Cynthia's suite only a one other time prior. That time being when she first came to the league building and Cynthia wanted to show the little girl where to find her. When she first saw the mess that was the archaeologist's office, she had assumed it was due to last minute whirlwind packing to make it to Kalos in time. But that was almost a month ago. Now Angel knows that her foster parent was just a pack rat for anything dusty, musty, ancient, or made of paper. In other words, books, papers, and drawings scattered on every raised platform that wasn't a chair in piles that at times towered over Angel herself. Although one could easily find that fact non impressive because of Angel's three foot four stature.

Angel's small body is laid on top of the couch in Cynthia's office and the blanket is tightly wrapped around her so that she was cocooned in the sheet. Her white hair is pushed away from her red face.

"Don't worry Love. I'll be right back. I'm going to grab us something to eat, kay?"

Cynthia bursts out of the kitchen balancing a tray of food in one hand and two bottles of water in the other. Lucian's hand jolts out to catch the dropping canister of water and pries the other one from the woman's hand.

"Thank you, Lucian. Angel's sick and I want to get some food in her system." The champion explains as she shifts her load in her arms.

"Sick? With what?" Flint asks through his mouthful of eggs.

"Not sure yet."

"I'll come with you Cynthia." Bertha states as she wipes her mouth with a napkin before she stands from her seat at the dining table.

The chair scrapes against the tile as the veteran trainer pushes her seat away and takes the water bottles of Lucian. Cynthia gives her a nod of thanks before turning her back to the older woman and rushing out the mess hall door. She fumbles with the food as she tries to keep it balanced with her hurried movements as she makes her way down the hall. Bertha stays a few steps behind to avoid possible explosion from the containers of food if they were to hit the ground the wrong way. The champion swirls her body to keep the tray balanced as she opens the door to her suite.

"Cynthia, you need to clean up in here. I know you are researching the history of the Creation Trio, but seriously, this place is a mess."

Cynthia chuckles, "I'll get to it." She places the tray of food down onto one of the few empty spaces and focuses her attention on Angel's frame. The girl's shallow and rapid breathing making the blanket around her crest and fall rapidly. Angel closes her eyes as Cynthia places a cool palm to her forehead.

"She's burning up." The blonde stated worryingly as she holds Angel's head in her hands. The red skin burns her skin and the foggy eyes roll to meet the gray orbs.

"Mama, I don't feel good. My throat hurts my head hurts."

"I know Love." She turns to Bertha, "Bertha do you think you can call a doctor. She might have the flu, or a really bad cold."

The old woman nods and walks out of the room already dialing her cell phone. Cynthia reaches out and grasps the nearby plastic bottle. A crackle is heard as the seal is broken and the champion carefully brings the bottle towards the panting child. The girl turns away when the water is brought to her lips. Angel slightly shakes her head and watches as the water is pulled away from her face.

"You need to drink Love. Come on, I know your head hurts, but this will make you feel a little better."

Angel's lips part as she lets the water pass down her throat. She coughs as she slightly chokes on the tail end of the liquid and the blanket prevents the reassuring hand rubbing circles into her back from doing its job.

"Good girl. Go to sleep. A doctor will be here soon with medicine."

…

Angel rubs at her eyes and re-opens them. However, the blurry pink fog surrounding her doesn't disappear. She sighs and her lips vibrate with the motion. She moves her legs and grimaces at the lethargic way her legs shuffle. Her violet eyes focus on the figure coming in and out of focus.

"Mesprit, if you insist on dragging my consciousness into a dreamscape, can't you at least make it less hot?"

"This heat is your own doing, hatchling. Your fever is affecting your dream."

Angel wipes at non-existent sweat, "Are you actually communicating with me or is this just a fever dream?"

"I am projecting my image into your consciousness. I'm here to warn you." The cheerful tone is lost and turns toward a loud whisper. Hushed by echoing. "The orbs are in danger. You are the only human I met that could help."

"What are you talking about?" Angel asks as she tries to muddle through the mist to get closer to the guardian.

"Listen, hatchling. You hear our voice. The renegade has been disturbed. It's anger sparked anew. Corrupted sun, empty and hollow, trespasses oblivion. Help us please, for the fury will engulf the sacred pillar and the scale will crumble. The dimension will distort and the alpha will cast judgement."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Angel shouts as the pink creature begins to fade.

"Help us, hatchling. "

Angel's eyelids shoot open and catch sight of the ground specialist's brown scarf. The child curls inward into her blanket when a male invades her headspace.

"Don't worry young one. This is Dr. Ryker. He's going to see what's wrong and help us fix it."

"Bertha, I just had a dream. Mesprit…"

"Nonsense. The lake guardians have been dormant for years. The fevers affecting your dreams. So looky here." The doctor cuts Angel off and forces her head up. "Open. Irritated throat, nasal drip, high fever. You said she was sneezing earlier?"

Bertha nods and Dr. Ryker turns to dig through his medicine bag, "Seems to be a bad cold. This should fix 'er up. "Course rest will be necessary too." A bottle is handed to Bertha.

"Thank you sir."

Angel turns questioning eyes on the old woman, who looks up from the medicine bottle and smiles warmly. "Don't worry, Cynthia will be back soon. She got a phone call from her grandmother."

Angel nods and cuddles into her pillow. Her violet orbs flicker to the side when her foggy mind notices a sound in the background. Familiar hands move away the strands of hair glued to her forehead and the champion kisses the child's burning forehead.

"At least it's just a cold. You'll be better soon. I'm going to need you to take this medicine though, okay Love?" The small cup of purple syrup is forced down the child's throat and Cynthia turns to Bertha as Angel gags. "Thank you Bertha. I got it from here."

When the champion hears the veteran trainer leave she gives Angel a reassuring smile. She makes her way to her desk and flips through the ancient book of Sinnoh myths. The gray orbs look up when she hears Angel call out her title.

"Mama?"

"Yes Love?"

"What's a renegade?" Angel flips over to better face the woman staring at her slightly dumbfounded.

"A renegade as a thing is a person who betrays another person, or a group, or a set of rules. As a description it means to treacherously change sides." Cynthia's brows furrow, "Why do you want to know. Where did you even hear that word?"

Angel turns away from her foster parent and closes her eyes. "Don't remember. Probably Lucian. I'm going to go back to sleep."

"Alright, Love. I'll be here when you wake up."

Angel's eyes open slightly and she chews her lip with guilt before forcing the anxiety away. The violet circles vanish as her eyelids close.