Lancelot wound up being a wealth of information, from Team Rocket to individual agents to the ongoings of base life.
"The cooks will slip you a free dessert if you trade them for loose cigarettes. You can steal cigarettes from locker rooms, but don't get caught."
"Team Rocket has bases all over Johto and Kanto. They buy up land that the government abandoned under different names and build outposts."
"Warp tiles are unmarked, but you can tell which one goes where if you look at the design. You'll have to remember the designs, of course, but it's easier than guessing!"
"There's only three Executives right now, but they say Elite Captain Lixue will be the next one. Master Archer isn't happy about that, 'cause he says she's more suited for a different role…"
The boy's observations and inner knowledge impressed Yellow. It seemed to give him an edge over others, if not to avoid trouble altogether. But she reckoned that a boy who spent his whole life in these walls should be able to get around.
It also seemed that Lancelot enjoyed talking to Yellow, even though he hid it behind a scowl. But he kept his distance, lest he receive a dire punishment for fraternization. Out of everything that could happen, the two forest children had each other's backs.
One left to ask about. Something that Yellow still hadn't seen. So she sprang it on him as they were nearing Lancelot's bedroom after their Pokemon training.
"Who is Giovanni?"
Lancelot froze. He shuddered, looking upwards for cameras and signs of activity. After a few seconds, he dropped back down to reshuffle his textbooks.
"He's always called Master Giovanni." He said, his voice buried in a hardcover. "If you call him anything else, you'll be in the worst kind of trouble. Everyone calls him Master Giovanni. Even Master Archer. Especially Master Archer."
Yellow looked up at the ceiling. She was developing the habit as well.
"But who is he? I haven't…"
"He owns Team Rocket. He owns us. He owns everything." Lancelot swallowed, his face turning red from fear. "They brought us to serve him and his legacy. He's the strongest trainer in the world."
"Is he really?"
"That's what Master Archer says. All Pokemon, especially the most powerful ones, are Master Giovanni's. All Pokemon are to obey him and Team Rocket. If anyone disobeys his command, they will be destroyed."
Yellow swallowed, thinking back to the forest burning. No wonder they cared so little. If Giovanni believed it belonged to him, and only him, he must have felt the need to do what he wanted. To get what he wanted.
But Mother Forest never mentioned him. Never claimed to be owned by anyone. Mother Forest was the master of the domain and goddess to all dwelling Pokemon. Was that true, or what Lancelot was saying was true?
"Is...is that why they brought me here?" Her question sat on her tongue, leaving a bitter taste.
Lancelot nodded. "Yes. We serve Master Giovanni and his legacy. That's why…"
A pause. Yellow wanted to reach out and shake Lancelot from his anxious stare, but he collected himself after a few minutes. His breath wavered, as if he was unsure about the very next statement from his mouth.
"... Why my name is Lancelot. It means 'servant'. Master Archer wanted me to always remember my role in Team Rocket."
Names. Powerful meanings in this place. Yellow looked up at the ceiling again, wondering if the powers that be were listening in. Making sure their property was disseminating the information, as they were told to do.
It made sense. The Masters refused to call her Yellow, opting for her birth name. A way to destroy her former self and lay claim to something they had no power over. Everything ran deep here, planned right down to the footprint that Yellow would leave behind.
Was there no chance to defeat the complex and secretive scheming of Team Rocket?
"Master Archer named you." Yellow inferred. "He's been your Master forever."
"Yes." Lancelot said, his voice dropping low. "They made me for Team Rocket. But—"
"See, Archer? Did I not say that they would learn to get along?"
A taunt doused with sweetness and victory stopped the two children cold. Amarillo tried not to look the two Executives in the eye as they came up from behind them, drowning in fear and guilt from disobedience.
Ariana looked smug as she could, relishing her colleague's stoic observation of their students. It did not thrill Archer with Lancelot's taking to Amarillo, but little he could do to maintain control over.
"For good reason, I'm sure. Lancelot has to work well with others." Archer threw away the implication made by staring through his charge. "Lancelot. Speak to this."
Like one of his trained Houndooms, the boy obeyed. "Amarillo is dragging Team Rocket down. I do not want to be associated with failure."
Yellow fought to not roll her eyes as Archer took the victory back. Ariana huffed, grabbing her student by the shoulder and pulling her aside. It seemed they caught the two in a petty match of wills against the powerful Executives.
"She has grown. More than you predicted." Ariana salvaged the mess. "We can't expect them to be perfect Executives, can we?"
"No, but we can expect them to have a capacity for it."
"And how is your student's capacity to be an Executive?"
Yellow threw a glance at Lancelot, who was trying to appear small in these squabbles.
"He has great potential under my teachings."
"Is that what you say to Giovanni when he escapes?"
Archer's eyes hardened. Lancelot dropped his feeble gaze to the floor, embarrassment burning away at him. The recruit couldn't grasp the meaning until she saw Lancelot squeeze his eyes shut to stop the tears.
Lancelot had escaped—or tried to escape—before. The news blew Yellow away. So the boy had screwed up courage to leave, which was now treated as a dark mark on his reputation. A deceptive undercurrent to his loyalty to Team Rocket.
Contrary to Ariana's triumph, the Executive was quick to retort.
"He's a child. Gets confused about what's best for him. He understands that well now." Archer's statement was a toxic barb on Lancelot's cheek. "I wouldn't be shocked if Amarillo does the same. And you'd be in the same situation with Master Giovanni."
However, Archer slipped his fingers into Lancelot's collar to jolt him to look upwards. Yellow could see Lancelot's stoic exterior return and flood every line of his innocent face. The textbooks in his arms were tightly against his chest.
"Now. Lancelot. Anatomy lessons. Come with me."
There was nothing Yellow could do as Lancelot followed Archer. Ariana petted her cheek, thrilled that the girl didn't ruin her thought-out remarks.
"You know how to be silent." She remarked. "You learn when you want to."
How long had that lesson been going on? Since Yellow got here?
x
"Ow!"
Yellow jerked her hand back, seeing a big black thorn sticking out of her finger. Blood seeped around the base, sliding down her hand as the girl tried to pluck it out to no avail. Plants shouldn't hurt this much!
"Did I not say to be careful?" Ariana admonished, using forceps to yank it out. "You get what you deserve, Amarillo, for not listening."
Yellow gulped down her painful shout, stemming the wound with a white bandage. That wasn't fair. She was being careful! She didn't see the thorn sticking up from the back!
This was the first time the former forest child had access to Ariana's botanical laboratory. It was crucial to her lessons with Ariana—or so the older woman claimed. But while Yellow had been looking forward to a place that would remind her of home, her hopes dashed.
It was dark and threatening, filled with poisonous blooms and brutal barbs. Ariana categorized flowers of exotic and common varieties in every section. Nobody could walk in the place without tripping over something dangerous or getting stuck with toxins.
She had instructed Yellow where to stand, where to walk, and what to wear. Thick, long gloves covered up to her shoulders, along with a similar coat around her tiny body. A tight mask with gas vents covered her face and hair, weighing her down.
Ariana was in her casual uniform, unperturbed by the flowers and crafting her potions with a surgeon's delicate touch. Her bare fingers and nails caressed the evil bristles like a lover to a man. She was unafraid.
"Watch." Another order as the Executive's forceps picked off a fresh leaf from a spiky plant. "What is this plant?"
Yellow remembered seeing that picture from the book Ariana gave her to study, but this one looked different. "Hol... Holly."
"Good. It is." Ariana placed the leaf on her laboratory mat. "A variation of my design. Not your average winter decoration. What do you remember from reading about holly?"
"It's... the berries are poison." Yellow sucked her breath in, seeing the growing red flowerings from the center. "If a child eats them, they could die. They're also toxic to some Pokemon."
"But you're smarter than that, aren't you?"
"Yes, Madame Ariana."
Ariana plucked a fat berry from the plant. "You know the difference between good plants and bad ones, don't you? From the forest life?"
Yellow nodded. Mother Forest taught her many things, careful to keep Yellow from danger. It instilled the right berries to eat in the girl at a very young age. It had to be, or the child may not have lived long.
"Why do people keep such dangerous plants to celebrate holidays then?"
Now the child was at a loss. She celebrated nothing called a holiday or seen decorations with them. Her mouth clamped shut, staring at her master to help her along.
"No guesses, Amarillo?"
A swallow. "Because they're... pretty?"
"And what do you know about pretty plants?"
"... They're wanting to be pollinated or... poisonous."
"What a way to get around in a man's world."
Yellow had a feeling this was the real lesson and the entire exchange with Archer was a wager more sinister that Ariana let on.
x
Lancelot's retching echoed all the way to Yellow's room.
Worried, the child put down her work and raced towards the bathroom. The sounds became muffled. Yellow became concerned that Lancelot was choking on whatever he was throwing up.
Blowing right into the bathroom, she saw the boy hunched over the toilet. Lancelot was weak and shivering from the cold air. He splayed his boots out from his legs as some way to avoid getting vomit on his soles.
"Are you…?" She said, seeing him jolt. "Sick?"
"No." He said, spitting saliva into the bowl. "I'm fine."
"People don't throw up because they're fine. I know, 'cause—"
"Don't. No stories. Please. Not right now."
Yellow stepped towards him, seeing his hair get dangerously close to the sickness. In a single sweep, she lifted his hair up to keep the damage minimal. Lancelot shuddered as his retching started again.
"You're not okay." Her whisper was adamant. "You're sick."
Lancelot flushed all the excess, keeping his head low. "I'm weak. Master Archer said so. I'm…"
"You're sick. That's not weakness."
"I'm not sick. I told you. I'm weak."
Yellow knew trying to convince him was useless. "Did you eat something bad?"
His fingers slid across the toilet seat, digging into the plastic rimming. Questions were not Lancelot's favorite thing right now. Yet he did not admonish her gentle comfort to keep his hair and image intact from the soiled illness.
"I have to be strong." Lancelot mumbled, spitting more. "Master Archer has more anatomy lessons. I have to learn...learn everything. To be strong."
"What's anatomy? The other girls were…"
Yellow stopped, seeing Lancelot grow queasy again. For now, Lancelot could rest. Her curiosity would not disap