Chapter V

Entry #14:

Today, I learnt about Hoenn's history.

There are so many people still hurting. Just today, I passed by skeletons that had lost their lives to the war. I read their letters. So much was lost, and all because of a few selfish men.

I hope I never become that selfish.

For me, it's not about the money.

It's about the adventure.

The next morning, with Magnus the Mudkip sitting on her head, August followed Birch and Brandon through the jungle.

In the dappled sunlight amid the boughs and strong roots, there were Pokémon of all sorts – little red worms crawling along the bark, and even dark feathered birds chirping down at her. A stream ran all the way from the ocean to the crowd of trees, the blue and white lace of the foam meshing into the dance of green and brown.

It was so different to her home in Sinnoh. Not marshy, or dry with dessert sand. The sand here was lighter – finer – and full of shells and crystals.

"I collect information about which Pokémon lives in which place," Birch was explaining to her. "That way, I can investigate differences in them – like Pokémon that live in volcanic areas have evolved in completely different ways to help them survive from the heat."

August nodded along. "And the ones that live in snow get lots of fur, right?"

"Snow?" Birch scoffed. "There's no snow here, lass."

"Right."

"Just a lot of water."

"And jungle."

Birch grinned. "You just wait until you get to the Petalberg Woods."

The name struck a chord in August's head.

Petalberg?

Where had she heard that?

"It's this large jungle," Birch was saying. "It's full of nasty Pokémon that shoot poison everywhere. If you thought the Poochyena from before was scary—"

Then, it hit her.

"Uncle Norman is from Petalberg," she said gently.

Birch paused for a moment, his hand halfway in the air, moments away from flinging a branch out of his face. Even Brandon, who was promptly ignoring them both and trailing far ahead, his boots squelching aggressively through the ground, faltered.

"You know Norman?" Birch asked.

August shrugged. "Sure. He's my uncle."

This time, Birch's eyes lit up. He reached out to shake her shoulder.

"Lass!" he cried out. "Norman is one of the greatest diplomats to ever sail Hoenn. He was once an excellent pirate, too. Ruthless. I've heard he's made at least sixty people walk the plank, just so he could claim that jungle."

He looked at her, as if he were expecting her to say something. Even Brandon was staring, brows propped up.

August cleared her throat.

"His brother is my dad."

"Well, yes," Brandon muttered. "That's what uncle means."

But Birch waved him away. "Wow. That's just amazing, August. Wait until Norman hears that his niece is with me! We could visit him, if you'd like, lass."

The idea was almost too good to be true.

Norman had managed to send her dad the journal – that meant he could surely help her get back home, right? And, besides, if Norman had found Steven's journal…

Would he know anything about Steven?

"Could he visit me?" August piped up. "I don't want to go too far and get lost."

Birch frowned. "Oh, he can't leave Petalberg. A few laws and such."

"What?"

"He's one of the Eight Diplomats of Hoenn. He has a sacred piece of the map."

"What map?"

Birch gave her a sympathetic smile. "Sit down, lass. Let's settle for dinner."

They settled in a strange, barren spot that Birch had called Oldale.

In the centre of it all, there was a giant tree – each branch like a soft wand of brown, moving through the breeze. There were fires of flowers spread across it, with cream petals scattered around the ground, surrounded by berries.

Aside from that, there were just stone relics. Ancient and crumbling, with faded little marks scratched across them.

"All the elders of this village died during the war," Birch told August.

He had managed a small fire over the sand with his Torchic, and Magnus had gone to collect the berries while Brandon pulled bread from his pack. August sat limply and awkwardly.

She hadn't ever cooked before. Not for others, nor herself.

"Only ten or so years ago, Hoenn was in shambles," Birch said with a sigh. "Pirates were everywhere, fighting each other in search of the Sea Temple."

August sat up a little straighter at that.

The Sea Temple?

The one from her visions?

"What's the Sea Temple?" she asked carefully.

"An underwater temple," Birch answered. "Rumour claims that it is full of gold and jewels. It's enough to make any pirate rich enough to buy their own kingdom. Maybe enough money to get their teeth fixed, too."

August felt the spurt of excitement in her heart. Stomped it down instantly. "Sounds… special."

"Absolutely. It is even guarded by special people."

"The diplomats?"

"Oh, no. Four different people. Ancestors of the Sea. No one knows who they are, though. Not even The Eight Diplomats. Do you follow?"

August gave a small wince. "Sure."

"You see," Birch quickly added, "There was one ship that was full of the most excellent men in Hoenn."

"No women?"

Brandon, from behind her, snorted. "As if a woman could be of any use."

"Brandon," Birch said sharply.

The boy shrugged. "You know it's true."

"Brandon."

With another roll of his eyes, Brandon tossed the bread into his father's lap and moved himself away. Birch turned and gave August a sad smile.

"Don't mind him, lass," he said gently.

August shrugged. "Trust me. I won't. What were you saying?"

"Ah, yes. The ship of men." Birch leaned back, his elbows propped on the grass that poked out from the sand. "They had some of the most amazing pirates. Their captain, Watson. Norman. Wallace. Brawly. They were guided by Norman's two children, who started having visions when they were tiny children."

"Does anyone know why they had visions?"

"No one knows." Birch then gave her grin, adding, "Probably drank too much salt water when they were young."

August nodded coolly.

They wouldn't be the first, then.

"They helped Norman create a map, and all the pirates worked together to reach it. But as they reached the Sea Temple, Norman and Wallace became… selfish. They wanted to find it first – and so they all had this big jolly ol' fight. The map got ripped into pieces during it, before anyone had even made copies of it. They found new allies, new men, and began fighting for the pieces of the map, as well as pieces of land that they found when they were together as a crew."

August watched as Birch's face paled. As his whole bright demeanour shifted into something more sombre.

"It was a war that lasted years, lass," Birch said softly. "The oceans were red for a while."

For a moment, August wasn't sure what to say.

Should she say she was sorry?

Should she celebrate the fact that the oceans were back to being blue?

Ask if the Sea Temple was the same one in her visions?

Instead, she gave a dumb nod.

"I see," she said.

"There's a Pokémon that rules the Sea Temple, though," Birch continued. "No one has seen it, but everyone knows that there is a Pokémon who looks after it. It got so angry from all the bloodshed that tainted its temple that it came out from the ocean, looking like this giant bright star – so bright that anyone who looked directly at it went blind. It forced all the ships to leave by force. The waves were so great that half the land in Hoenn went underwater."

"That's… a lot."

Birch shook his head, staring down at the ground. "The map was split into eight pieces, and split across all the selfish pirates in Hoenn. It seemed like a blessing, but really, it was a curse. The eight pirates because diplomats of Hoenn, aye, and all got a piece of land to protect it—"

"Is Uncle Norman one of them?"

"Aye. Oh, aye, yes. And that means he cannot leave Petalberg."

Again, August furrowed her brows. "Why not?"

"The second he steps foot outside his land, that Sea Temple Beast will rise from the ocean and destroy him," Birch explained. "That's the curse of becoming a diplomat. It shows that he had been selfish."

"So, if the eight pieces of the map are scattered across Hoenn…" August made a face. "Can't someone just steal each piece and find the Sea Temple themselves?"

"I don't advise it," Birch said. "No one needs another war."

"Of course."

"You're not thinking of it, are you?"

August quickly shook her head. "No. Of course not."

But she couldn't stop the bubbling hope in her chest.

The Sea Temple.

It was so close.

She could feel it in her own veins, shimmering and shaking there.

"You better not be thinking of it," Brandon suddenly said. "People died in that war, you know."

Birch sighed. "Yes, Brandon. She knows."

"People are still suffering."

"Brandon—"

"I'm just reminding her," Brandon snapped. Then, he gestured at the bread that sat upon August's lap. "Are you going to pay for that?"

August froze, her hand gently placed over the bread.

"Brandon," Birch quickly said. "She's our guest."

"We can't afford guests, Father!" Brandon shot back. "We have no money. No one cares about your books anymore because you can't find anything interesting in this forsaken land! You're poor, we're poor, and now we're babysitting this lass instead of searching for interesting Pokémon. You still haven't found that damned Poochyena, Father!"

"I did," Birch protested. "I found multiple—"

Brandon cut him off with a snort. "Aye, and they ripped yer fucking britches off."

"Brandon, we will find a Poochyena—"

"Not with her around, we won't," Brandon snapped. "She'll slow us down."

Then, once again, Brandon was stomping off, kicking at the grass, sulking.

Finally, August sighed.

"You let him talk to you like that?" she said.

Birch kept his eyes trained over at Brandon, sighing. "What do you mean?"

"You're his father. I would never speak to my father back at home like that."

She didn't add that she never really spoke to her father at all, anymore. She just let him speak at her.

"He's been through a lot, that lad," Birch said, rubbing at his face. "Growing up in a war was not good for him. Nor our family."

For a moment, August realised that she hadn't heard either of them mention a mother. She opened her mouth to ask about it, but Birch was already lying back onto the grass, gazing up at the stars.

So, she did the same.

Lied back.

Gazed at the stars.

And made a plan.

The first Pokémon she found was a Wurmple.

It was a cute little red thing, its belly the colour of cream and its dark pupils looking giant against the yellow of its eyes.

The issue was that she found it moments before the sun had risen, while Birch and Brandon were still sleeping.

Meaning that the saying, 'Early Starly catches the bird' rang true, and August found herself and Magnus chasing after a Taillow that had swallowed half of the Wurmple.

Magnus had soaked the bird through with a stream of water, and August had managed to sit on its tail. Then, with her arm, she found herself prying open the Taillow's beak while Magnus latched onto the Wurmple's backside with his mouth, and tugged.

Eventually, they saved the Wurmple from becoming the Taillow's meal.

But, as they pulled the Wurmple out, expecting gratitude or fear or anything really, they found that it was still sleeping like a baby on the ground. As if it hadn't realised it was about to get eaten up.

August called it Solace, just because of that.

Next had come the Zigzagoon.

August had figured it looked pretty rare. After all, it had bristly fur unlike anything she had ever seen before. And the chestnut and cream colour of its coat had looked like something off a pirate's cape.

She didn't have to work hard for this one.

This one bit onto her boot, and simply wouldn't let go, even as she dragged and scraped it along the sand.

Later on, she would find out that it had bitten her shoe because of the berry juice that had been smeared there. Later on, she would learn that, rather than being a feisty Pokémon that was curious and begging for adventure, it was simply a hungry little thing.

For now, though, she thought it was a daring little thing for hanging onto her boot.

So, she called it Dare.

Then, she found a Poochyena.

Not just any Poochyena – but the one she had hurled a stone at, leaving it with a bleeding, battered eye.

She had expected it to rip her face off, especially after what she had done to its eye. It was still raw and bleeding, with strange white things oozing out of it. And, Arceus, it looked like it hurt.

But, the second it growled at her, Magnus leapt down from her head and stood before her. Then, the Wurmple crawled down her leg and joined him. Even the Zigzagoon, still attached to her boot, made a low snarl towards the Poochyena.

So, the Poochyena backed off.

Then, it looked at her stumped arm.

"I can heal your eye," August said. "The same way someone healed my arm."

The Poochyena seemed to like this idea very much.

August decided to name him Percy.

Birch's eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the sight of August, who had trembled at the sight of a Mudkip only two days ago, walking back towards their little bonfire with three more Pokémon trailing behind her.

"I got you some Pokémon," she called out. "For your research."

Brandon snorted. "A Zigzagoon. Congratulations. You just found the most common Pokémon in all of Hoenn."

August held up the Wurmple on her leg. "And this."

"A Wurmple. Just great. Real great."

Then, Percy the Poochyena ducked out from behind August's leg. And both Branadon and Birch's jaws dropped.

"Lass…" Birch began. "This is worth… This is worth more than I could think of!"

August smiled gently at that. "Accompany me to Petalberg. That's all I ask. I want to meet my uncle."

Instantly, Birch was reaching out to shake her hand.

"You have a deal," he told her.

Even Brandon, who had spent all morning snickering at her, had nothing to say.

They decided to spend one more evening in Oldale while Birch collected saliva and little hairs from the Poochyena, as well as bandaging up its eye. Meanwhile, while Magnus curled up beside the Torchic and Treecko, August went on one more hunt.

With Solace the Wurmple hanging onto her leg, she skirted around the edges of Oldale, the dark grass whispering with her steps. Then, she found the brown dashes of hair.

Only a few tentative steps later, she found herself sitting beside Brandon.

"Are you wondering how I got the Poochyena?" she asked him.

He turned away from her with a snort. "No."

"Patience," she told him anyways. "You can't be the best all the time."

"Have you come to remind me that I'm just not as good as you?"

August nearly flinched back at that. "What?"

"You've met my father for two nights and he already loves you more than he loves me," Brandon pointed out. "You beat me in a Pokémon battle. You found a Poochyena before me. What can't you do?"

It was strange hearing this.

Because, for a while, August had been sure that there were only a few things she could do.

"I don't have any friends," she whispered.

"Huh?"

She ignored his baffled face. "In my hometown, Pastoria, I didn't have any friends. I didn't have any hobbies. I stopped reading, I stopped talking to my parents, and I wouldn't go near a Pokémon."

"Awful for you."

"Awful for me," she agreed, "but awful for you, too. Because that's what I see you becoming. And, Brandon, you don't want to be me."

He stayed quiet for a moment. Then, he raised a finger up to the sky.

Pokémon were gliding through the night sky – all of them with beautiful dark wings, with yellow swirls through each one and splatters of red and blue. Their blue eyes danced through the night, their black antennas moving in time with the beating of their wings.

There was a glow surrounding them. A pure, innocent beauty to their little murmurs.

"Beautifly," Brandon suddenly whispered. "My mother's favourite Pokémon."

August smiled. "My father's favourite Pokémon is a Gyarados."

"There is something very wrong with your family."

"I know."

He went quiet again, but this time, it wasn't a cold, bitter silence. It was comfortable.

"I still don't like you, August."

August nearly found herself laughing at that.

"Yeah, well, the feeling is mutual, Brandon."

Entry #19:

August, if you ever read this, you were right.

You were so, so right.

It exists.

It exists.