Chapter VII

Entry #31:

As it turns out, there is this map. It has been split into eight different pieces.

Each piece seems to be a different colour, as the folktales say. Each one seems to hold a special wisdom in them.

And, when pieced together, they become dangerous. They bring out the greed in people. They show their true colours.

Perhaps it is best that I do not continue on this quest for the Sea Temple. I know I owe it to August but… to become a monster. Is it worth it?

Hoenn certainly hadn't felt cold at all. Yet, as August stepped into Petalburg, it was as if a blanket of cold had been swept away from her, lifting into a warmer note.

She hadn't really known what to expect. Considering her uncle had once been a pirate, though, she wouldn't have been surprised to see wrecked ships and bloodied swords, or even decaying bones and jeering men with ale.

Instead, she got flowers.

Rows and rows of them. White bells dangling in dark bushes, scarlet tulips looking like embers – so vibrant, so fragile. Neatly choreographed between the flowing tents, their petals large and daring. Dandelions, shining like gold. Green berries, sprouting from the leaves, smeared across the beaks of so many Taillow. A giant, trimmed, and lush garden across a whole village.

Brendan and Birch had even paused to admire it all. August turned to face them.

"Where do you think my uncle is?" she asked.

"No clue," Brendan answered. "You're going to have to ask around."

"Can't you?"

He snorted at that. "What? Are you scared of human interaction?"

"I'm not from here. They'll notice I'm a bit different."

At that, she felt Brendan look over at her arm. At her stump of an arm. Then, he shrugged.

"You'll manage on your own," he told her, smugly. As if he just knew that she wouldn't.

Even Birch hesitated. "Son… Don't you think we could—"

"She'll be fine, Father. She's got the Arceus plate thing with her, does she not?" Brendan gave her another spiteful look – this time, it was geared towards the Pokémon cluttered around her. The Silcoon on her head, the Zigzagoon biting her ankle, the bruised Poochyena and the Mudkip that's belly was sticking up at strange, pointed angles because of the plate inside. He snorted yet again, adding, "Come on, Father. We've got our own matters to attend to."

Birch gave August an apologetic look. Then, they were gone.

Leaving her.

Alone.

~.~

For a while, she just stood there and waited.

People passed by her – none of them in rags or leather. Most of them were wearing pretty cloth over their skin – the women in nicer gowns, and the men in britches and cotton shirts. She couldn't tell if any of them looked like her father. She couldn't even tell if any of them looked like they had once been a pirate.

How the hell was she even supposed to recognise an uncle she had never met before, anyways?

Finally, she saw a face she did recognise.

Pale skin. Large eyes. Floppy green hair.

It was the boy from before – the one who had silently and creepily stared at her.

And, once again, he was standing there. Frail as ever. His legs wobbling, as if the wind itself could have hurled him over.

And he was staring directly at her.

"Hello," August called out to him. "I am August of Pastoria. We met just yesterday."

He looked at her blankly. Waiting.

"I am searching for my uncle," she added. "His name is Norman. I think."

"You think? Shouldn't you know your uncle's name?"

He said it so softly that August had to crane her ear towards him. "Pardon?"

"Nothing."

But she had heard it. She had heard it all.

And, for some reason, it made her completely and utterly mortified.

"Well," she finally said, standing up that little bit straighter. "Could you take me to him?"

He just stared at her once again. Then, he turned on his heel and hobbled away.

August had a feeling that meant no.

August knew she should have asked someone else.

But, sitting there, surrounded by roses, she just couldn't shake off the utter humiliation from the boy with green hair. Nor could she help herself from flushing every time someone passed by her and stared at her arm.

It was another reminder.

She was different.

She was a failure.

Instead, she tended to Percy the Poochyena's eye. As it turned out, Birch had done a sloppy job; there was still a thin yellow liquid dribbling from the slash across his eye, and the blood still hadn't stopped slipping out from the wound. So, August pressed an old towel against his eye, ignoring his little yelp of pain, and waited.

Maybe Norman would just find her. Maybe she wouldn't even have to do anything.

She sure hoped so. She definitely did not want to get up and put anymore effort into these people.

When the wound finally stopped spitting out blood, August bandaged up his eye again. And there was something in the Poochyena's gaze – a faint softness, a genuine warmth – that made her smile.

"I'm sorry about your eye, by the way," she told him.

The Poochyena placed his paw on her hand.

August had a feeling that meant it's okay.

After two hours of sitting on the ground, her buttocks were sore. So, when Brendan came to stand over her, hands on his hips, she gave him a weak wince.

"Any luck finding Norman?" he asked.

"No."

"Did you ask anyone?"

"Yes."

It technically wasn't a lie. She did ask someone.

"And none of them know where their own leader is?" Brendan asked, shaking his head. "Arceus. These people must be ridiculous."

August kept silent.

"Look," Brendan added, sighing and plopping himself onto the ground beside her. "I'll ask someone if you really want me to—"

"I found him."

The voice came from above them. Both August and Brendan glanced up.

It was that frail boy with green hair.

"I'm Wally. And I know where Norman is."

Uncle Norman had once been a pirate.

So, in all truths, August had been expecting a burly man like her own father. She had been expecting tattoos ripping across his skin, the ink blotting his face, his muscles bulging out. She had been expecting scars across his arms, or even a flattened nose.

Instead, she found a thin man, dressed in a maroon and velvet silk blouse. He was tanned but slim – no muscles poking out, no scars across his face, not even a single damned tattoo.

Hell, he looked like one of the nobles she had seen parading around Sinnoh.

And he was meditating. Cross-legged. Eyes closed. Humming.

Meditating.

Which sort of pirate did meditation?

Upon hearing their footsteps, one of Norman's eyes blinked open.

"Wally," he said. "Who did you bring here?"

Wally's voice barely made it past the wind. "August."

At this, Norman's other eye snapped open.

"August, my niece?"

August felt Brendan and Wally glance over at her. She cleared her throat.

"Aye," she said. "That's me."

Norman seemed frozen to his spot. He just stared, his gaze moving from her brown hair, all the way down to her torn boots.

August cleared her throat again. Norman finally smiled.

"Your father told me a lot about you," he said. "I… I haven't seen any family in so long. Apologies. This is just… very wonderful."

He sounded awkward. Far more awkward than Crasher Wake.

It made August like him, in all truths.

"Do you not have any children?" she asked. "I heard…"

Norman glanced down. "They're locked in another city."

"I'm sorry. And your wife—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

August flinched back. She felt Brendan also tense beside her.

There was some odd sorcery happening with women of Hoenn, it seemed.

"I'm sorry," August finally said.

Norman shrugged. "It's alright. You weren't even in this region when it all went to shits."

As he stood, August gave a curious glance to where he had been sitting. Wally and Brendan seemed to be adoring the silence, for they uttered not a word.

Leaving August.

To do all the talking.

Arceus.

"What were you doing?" August finally asked.

Norman smiled at her yet again. "Meditating. Hoping I'd see the Sea Temple. The same one you see, nay?"

She looked at him, eyes wide. "You know of it?"

"I was so close to seeing it in person, too."

"I'm sorry."

He laughed, then, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.

"For a daughter of a pirate, you're awfully polite," he told her. "Let's go have some tea."

It was then that August realised that he hadn't once given her an odd look because of her arm. He had barely seemed to notice it.

It made her like him a lot more.

"So," Norman was saying, "you've come to look for Steven Stone, I imagine."

"Aye."

"Your father told me about you two. He said that he found a whole diary of love letters that you had written him—"

August quickly cut him off. "That's not important. I just want to find him."

But Brendan had heard enough. He snorted next to her.

For the seventh time since they had sat in the gardens, atop the grass, little flowers poking around their legs, August wished that Norman hadn't asked Brendan to stay around. At least Wally kept his thoughts to himself, his lips pursed in a thin line. Brendan, on the other hand, wouldn't stop smirking as he glanced around the tent.

Norman's home was all outdoors, with only a giant white cloth attached to sticks to roof them. Even the tea tasted strange to August; it had roses in it, and it was more sweet than bitter.

August couldn't help but wonder what sort of pirate he had been. It seemed, to her, that he had always been a diplomat. From the way he spoke, to his warmth and gentleness, even to the tea he drank.

"I'm sorry, lass," Norman said. "I sent you his diary but… I don't know where he is. His ship was in ruins. I can only assume he…"

August felt her heart clench.

No.

"I think he's alright," she quickly said. "Maybe he found the Sea Temple. Maybe—"

Norman gave her a pitiful look. "Lass. There is no way to find the Sea Temple. He would have had to have stolen all eight of the map pieces, and he would have had to join them together. None of the pieces – to my knowledge – have been found. Mine, certainly, is still hidden away."

That piqued her interest. August placed her tea down onto the grass. Her Pokémon watched her take a deep breath.

"Could I see it?"

There was a moment of silence. August fully anticipated him to say no. Even Brendan rolled his eyes.

But Wally made a small noise in his throat. And Norman nodded.

"Let me show you," Norman finally said.

Brendan was the first on his feet, but Norman shook his head.

"Not the rest of you," Norman added. "The rest of you can stay."

Brendan scowled. "But—"

"This is family privilege."

"She isn't even from—"

Wally was up in a second. And the spear he had been carrying before flashed in the corner of August's eyes.

Before she knew it, the blade of it was pressed against Brendan's back.

"You heard him," Wally hissed.

August felt her own blood run cold. She exchanged a glance with Brendan.

Instantly, he raised his hands in surrender. Gave her a watery smile.

"Have fun," he told her.

It made her heart race faster. The thought of Wally, inches away from piercing Brendan's heart. The thought of Steven, perhaps nothing but bones and ruins in the ocean. The map, the first piece to finding the Sea Temple.

She followed Norman past the gardens, through some tents, where men and women in velvet suits eyed her. They were practising their sparring; kicking, punching, slashing each other with daggers and fists.

Until, finally, Norman pushed aside the curtain to the plainest tent of them all. Where, in the centre, on the most plain wooden table, was a ripped corner of a map.

The whole map seemed to have been dipped into cement – it was all grey. The lines, the circles, the waves that had been sketched in. All of it was grey.

And it was beautiful.

Each stroke seemed like it was made of magic – like it would waver and dance the longer she stared at it. Each wave sketched in, each little tree painted on, seemed so fine with details. A true work of an artist.

"It's gorgeous," August breathed out.

"It has me trapped in Petalburg."

"What happens if you leave?"

Norman glanced towards the door, where Wally stood by the edge. Guarding it with his spear.

"Nothing good," he finally said. "Nothing good."

August shivered. "I wish I could see the Sea Temple."

"It calls us."

"It does."

There was a warmth she felt as he glanced down at her and gave her another soft smile.

It was like someone finally understood.

"I… I could lend you this map," Norman finally said.

August's mouth hung open. "You could?"

"It's my sword duty to guard it. I shouldn't let it get into anyone's hands. But… you're family. You're the only family I really have." He reached out and patted her shoulder again. Like another father. "I feel like I can trust you."

"You don't have to. It's not like I can do much with it, anyways."

He went silent at that. His blue eyes shining.

August felt something in her body quiver.

"Uncle Norman?"

He hesitated. "I think… Maybe you can."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not from here. You can—"

His eyes were wide. Frantic.

"Uncle Norman?" August called again.

His grip on her shoulder tightened. He swung her around, so his face was directly across from hers. That hysteria in his eyes yet again.

"Lass," he whispered. "You could find the Sea Temple."

"How?"

"Pretend you know nothing about this map. About the Sea Temple. For Arceus' sake, don't tell another soul you are related to me."

"I—"

Norman hushed her with a finger. "I can tell you where the other map pieces are. I can't leave here without becoming… damaged. But you can travel to them. You can steal them and start collecting them. Then, we can put the map together and—"

"I'm not a pirate, Uncle Norman."

"Your father said you were incredible with a sword."

"I'm not incredible with anything."

"He said you were the prodigy of the sea."

"I'm the prodigy of getting myself into disasters."

Norman sighed. His shoulders deflated. He kicked the ground suddenly, running his fingers in his hair, choking back his half-hearted laugh. "Maybe you're right. And, besides, maybe you were right before, about Steven Stone. He did come here after all. Maybe he did find the Sea Temple."

That made August glance up again. Her body frozen.

"How?"

Norman gave her a sideways glance. "He travelled across all of Hoenn, after all. His diary says so. I'm sure he could have done anything he wanted."

August's head was reeling at that.

Could he have done it?

By himself?

"If I take all the map pieces," August said slowly. "If I find the Sea Temple, do you think it would lead me to Steven?"

Norman's eyes shone. "Lass, the Sea Temple holds many marvels. It is even believed to have the water of immortality, or the rivers that give you glimpses of the future, or lakes that allow you to speak to anyone – alive or dead, near or far. It could lead you to him without a doubt."

He held out his hand. August stared down at it.

"If you found the Sea Temple, you could find anything," he said.

Anything.

Anything.

She wasn't a pirate. She wasn't even an adventurer anymore.

But the Sea Temple...

But Steven Stone...

"What do you say?" he whispered.

August reached out with the only hand she could.

For Steven Stone.

"I'm in."

Entry #32:

To become a monster.

Is it worth it?