Another chapter has now hit the shelves. And oh boy, it was a fun one to write.

Unfortunately, the other day I tested positive for the coronavirus. Right now, I have mild symptoms, but I feel 75% certain that if I were not vaccinated and once boosted, I would be in the hospital. But that's enough about that.

One last bit of housekeeping: I have posted a new story, Mechanical Maiden, which is a Star Wars fanfiction. I'd appreciate if you guys gave that a read once you're done with this chapter. With that out of the way, happy reading!

Current music: Invisible Touch - Genesis

LUCAS' POV

A year later.

It was now midday, and my stomach growled, signaling a desire for food. Despite this, I knew that I would not be offered lunch here. In the words of a wise one, punishments cannot be altered to suit the guilty one's convenience.

Darren Ferguson also seemed as though his heart wasn't quite in it. He'd been vigorously questioning me for several hours, and I'd thought his energy would never wane. But he seemed to be running on pure adrenaline at this point. He probably had a lot of that, too, since this had been his goal for a year.

As for the grand jury, some of them were looking at their phones. Whether they were playing Angry Birds, Doodle Jump, Goober's Lab, or whatever, I didn't care. Everyone will lose focus eventually when the topic becomes mundane; the only question was, would this end up being good or bad for me?

Ferguson: When you mentioned your dream to Chief Leopold, if such a figure ever existed…

Defendant: He did exist. Please stop doubting that.

Ferguson: Did Leopold give you an answer to whatever your question was? Did he offer any information you didn't already have?

Defendant: Not really. He got very defensive, and that raised some red flags for me.

Ferguson: That's understandable. So what did you think would happen next?

Defendant: I don't know. I guess I assumed he'd call me back eventually and give me some news. Perhaps I'd get an explanation as to why he hadn't been forthcoming earlier. I had no reason not to trust Leopold.

Ferguson: So did you receive an answer from the Village Elder? Did he ever call you back?

Defendant: Well, I waited a day. Nothing happened during that day, other than Janelle and I going grocery shopping awkwardly. We were sick of Sionne bringing us canned food, and we wanted something fresh.

Ferguson: Sionne, the female Pyroar around your age - sorry if I butchered that word, it's all a very preposterous story - but what do you believe she knew at the time?

Defendant: Well, she clearly didn't want us to attend the Wind Festival. While I was desperate for any form of entertainment, I'd be lying if I said I didn't wonder if she was privy to information we weren't.

Ferguson: Tell me more about this Wind Festival. It was held in Fula City - didn't you say that city had been severely damaged by an earthquake?

Defendant: I did.

(The audience collectively gasped.)

Ferguson: Why would they hold such a festival in spite of the tragedy that the city had just endured? Wouldn't it be disrespectful to the victims?

Defendant: I can't speak for whoever organized it. From what I'd been told, the festival was especially important after the earthquake; the city had to come back to life sometime.

Ferguson: So what was going on at the Wind Festival? Why did you want to attend?

Defendant: I already told you that. Janelle and I needed something to do, even if it was risky. Staying cooped up in that apartment might well have been a bigger risk.

Ferguson: Fair enough. All teenagers need their time out of the house, I guess. Especially someone like you.

Defendant: Whatever.

Ferguson: Don't "whatever" me, Mr. Teller. What happened at the festival? Were there any events that brought us closer to what you did?

Defendant: You can ask that question as many times as you'd like, Darren. I didn't commit any crimes.

Ferguson gasped. It was the first time since this grand jury trial had begun that I'd called him by his first name, generally a big no-no.

The prosecutor gave me an angry look, one clearly intended to convey the message that I'd regret it. And honestly, I probably would at some point. But it was so satisfying that, in the moment, I almost thought it had been worth it.

I looked up at the flag on the ceiling, the one containing the stars and bars. In other words, it was the Confederate flag, which some people considered a symbol of Southern heritage. There had been endless calls from activists for it to be removed, but to no avail.

Amidst that historical revisionism, I had my own civil war brewing inside my mind. How would I reconcile everything I'd been through with this man in front of me?

Ferguson: Look me in the eye, Mr. Teller. Please show me that you're giving this case the respect it deserves.

Defendant: Does it, though? This whole thing feels like a farce. Why do you care so much about something that didn't happen?

Ferguson: Because it did happen.

Defendant: You can't have it both ways, Darren. If the Pokémon world doesn't exist, as you have repeatedly claimed, then I didn't commit the crime you're accusing me of.

Ferguson: We have to explore all avenues to figure out the truth. Isn't that what we should all want?

(The defendant did not respond.)

Ferguson: Since you're not going to reply, Mr. Teller, I think we might as well move on. Let's get to the day of the Wind Festival.

One year earlier.

As I would later tell Darren Ferguson, a whole day went by with nothing of note happening other than a heavily awkward trip to the grocery store. There were a lot of eyes trained on us as a pair of Litleo in a supermarket, but that was hardly the only aspect of this outing that made me feel uncomfortable.

Janelle, too, didn't exactly seem happy I was there. Perhaps this was merely because both of us being there attracted so much attention. Whatever the case, I couldn't read minds. I certainly can't ask her now.

The first day that went by with no word from either Leopold or Sionne about Zeraora was an indignity, an outrage. Leopold should tell us what he knew, shouldn't he? So many people trusted him, and continuing to bottle up a secret would damage that trust.

The next day, however, was less maddening. With every 24-hour period that passed by, it became less and less likely that we'd get a response that day, so I didn't get my hopes up too much. And one day, I accepted that it would never happen.

Sionne hadn't visited us since we'd met up at the harborside restaurant. Maybe she was too embarrassed to, or maybe she held a grudge against us for disregarding her advice. Who knew what the real reason was.

Each day, we got closer and closer to the Wind Festival. Despite having nothing to do, time seemed to speed up, just like it does when an event you're dreading is in your near future.

Was I dreading the Wind Festival? Not exactly. But could I shake the thought that something might very well go wrong? Just like the former question, I have to answer this one in the negative.

Finally, the day of reckoning arrived. Technically, the Wind Festival was to be held over a couple of days, but Janelle and I both figured it would be less crowded on the first day, and the fewer people around to see us newcomers, the better.

"Do we need to brush our fangs spotless for the event?" Janelle enquired about an hour before we were to leave.

I shook my head with a slight laugh. "I don't think that's necessary. The kids there probably won't have done so."

"Makes sense" she responded bluntly.

And then we both took the opportunity to chuckle, because when it came down to it, we needed the levity.

The next hour can only be described as agony, punctuated occasionally by the resolve to lighten the mood. We were doing something together for once, something meant to be a celebration of life. And yet, I couldn't help but wonder if we'd lose our lives there.

I did not voice my concerns to Janelle. Quite frankly, she didn't need to know about them. And if she already knew, then she could have taken herself out of the festival, and yet she had not done this. Clearly she wanted to attend as well.

We followed the signs that had been littered throughout the city all the way to the Wind Festival. There were a number of other people, both humans and Pokémon, making their way across town as well. Fortunately, these people didn't give us nearly as much attention as we'd received at the grocery store last week.

I've been in this world for two weeks now.

On some level, this sounded like an insanely long time. My parents had never been able to afford to send me to summer camp as a kid, so I hadn't spent much time away from them. If they could see me now, would they be proud of me?

Probably not. But you never know.

On the other hand, it felt hard to believe that it had only been two weeks. During that time, so much had happened that it was almost hard to breathe thinking about it. I'd been spirited away to the Pokémon world, become a Pokémon myself, taken part in humiliating rituals, had nightmares, and Janelle had almost died. It had been perhaps the most overwhelming two weeks of my life.

After all of that, perhaps I did deserve a day off. A day to be grateful that even after all this time, I was still alive, and so was Janelle.

The Wind Festival was held on a long, wide pier jutting its way over the sea. There were many festivities present - ice cream trucks, roller coasters, a bungee trampoline, an arcade, Chinese lanterns (though China didn't exist in this world) - you name it, they probably had it.

Janelle and I paid admission, which the poor college student behind the counter seemed to hate charging us for. But, he assured us, it was necessary to cover the costs of hosting the festival, an explanation I was more than willing to accept.

Once we both had a paw stamped with the official flag of Fula City, I felt like a balloon that had been tied to the ground, but was now free to float upwards the way it "wants" to. It was hard not to be relieved in such a happy place where, it seemed, fear and worry could not survive very long.

Most of the festival's attendees seemed to be children with their parents and Pokémon. Janelle and I were probably the only people around our age there (not that we looked seventeen.) Pretty much everything there, including the balloon animals and cotton candy vendors, was geared towards people younger than ourselves.

"Well…where do we begin?" Janelle asked.

I snorted. "How about we ride a coaster? Better to do that before we eat than after we're full."

Janelle's pupils dilated, fear evident on her face. "I'm not going to do that. You can go on one if you want to, but it's not for me."

I frowned. "You're scared of heights? I didn't know that."

The female Litleo grimaced, and I realized that this was probably a sore subject for her. Perhaps it was even traumatic - what if her fear of heights had been born out of the way she'd entered this world?

"You can wait for me at the bottom of the coaster" I told her. "I still want to ride it."

Looking at it now, this was probably not the kindest behavior that I could have shown her. If Janelle was traumatized by roller coasters, it probably wouldn't help her emotional state to know that I was riding one.

Still, I got in line and, when my turn had come, rode it anyway. I'm not exactly a coaster connoisseur, but as far as I was concerned, it was at least seven out of ten. It was somewhat awkward to have to sit upright as a quadruped, since it made it hard not to sit on my tail. But it was still fun, if a bit guilt-inducing when I returned to Janelle's side.

Fortunately, Janelle didn't seem eager to give me grief over that decision. Once we were together again (physically so, not necessarily emotionally so), she simply forced a smile and asked, "How was it?"

And I told her the truth, but not the whole truth. More specifically, I left out the part about how uneasy I felt for potentially making her relive her near-death experience. But since I didn't know how she felt, I couldn't let myself lose too much sleep over it.

We worked our way through the festival grounds as the sun sank lower in the sky. Eventually we reached a dance floor - this was where the teens and young adults were!

The song "Ghost Ship of Cannibal Rattatas" was being blasted through a jukebox, and there were several couples dancing to it. Seeing this should have made me feel happier, since these were people just enjoying the pleasant weather and appreciating the fact that they'd survived the earthquakes.

However, it wasn't that simple. Every time I saw someone screw up a dance move (which happened quite a bit), I couldn't help but remember the coming-of-age ritual in Chilly Waters that had involved dancing. I would never live that down, would I?

"I don't want to dance," I said aloud.

Janelle frowned at me. "In that case, why did you want to head to the dance floor?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "There are things I'd like to say, though."

"Then why say them here? This is just about the worst place for it, assuming that it needs to be kept confidential."

"It's not confidential," I told Janelle. "It concerns just about everyone in this world. At least, if my information is accurate."

"That's an oddly formal way to phrase it, but okay. Tell me what's going on."

Paradoxically, despite the loud music, I was forced to whisper into Janelle's ear. She insisted that was the only way she'd understand me, and this was no place to argue.

"I had a dream last week about Zeraora," I told her.

At that, Janelle looked as though she'd been injected with a stimulant. Her ears perked up even more than they had already, and the female Litleo opened her mouth wide.

"You didn't tell me?"

"No. I didn't think I needed to."

"But you're telling me this now" Janelle stated. "You didn't think it was important before, and now you've suddenly decided that it is?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Please forgive me for that."

"So you needed some time to think about it? I can respect that, but I still don't understand why you felt it was so important now. But go ahead. What happened in the dream?"

"Well, Zeraora's chained atop a mountain. I'm not sure exactly how it ended up there, but that might be the reason why the weather's been all wonky."

Janelle stared at me as though I were from another planet. (Which, to be fair, I was; but then again, so was she.) And there was a silence almost as deafening as the next song: "A Little Piece of Heaven" by Avenged Sevenvulpix.

"I don't know what to believe anymore," she said. "You're telling me that you learned this all in a dream."

"Yes" I told her, because what else was I supposed to say?

Janelle rolled her eyes. "I don't know whether I should take you seriously or not. That's the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard."

"Uh, why?"

"Because everyone has dreams, Lucas Teller. That doesn't mean the events depicted within are real. For all I know, maybe climate change is a thing in this world as well, or maybe it's just really bad luck that we're here now."

"I knew it was real" I told Janelle, probably a lot more sharply than I should have. "I just knew it."

"With all due respect, Lucas, you can't be certain about that. How did you know it?"

It was then that I knew we'd hit dangerous territory for me. There was only one answer I could think to give, and it wouldn't be anywhere near satisfying for her.

"Because it felt real. More accurate than real life, in fact."

Janelle scoffed at me. "Why am I supposed to take it seriously? You sat on this information for a solid week. How should I know you're not pulling my leg?"

"Why would I joke about something so important?"

"That's it!" Janelle exclaimed, turning away from me to face the harbor. And before I could say or do anything else, she stormed off towards the railing above the water.

For a moment I thought she'd hurl herself over the side. However, when she reached the railing, she turned to face me and yelled, "We can't be like this, Lucas!"

Like what?

She didn't answer my silent question, not that I'd expected her to. Within seconds, I couldn't even see her; she'd evidently decided to go it alone from here.

I sighed. At that moment, I wasn't even thinking about what would happen once both of us had to go back to the apartment. If it had been rough between us prior to the Wind Festival, I shuddered to think of how our "relationship" would be afterwards.

So I resolved to enjoy the festival as best I could on my own. Whatever would happen in the future, the old saying applied here: "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die." In other words, I should try to make the most of this evening, even if I'd just screwed up my life; or perhaps, especially if I'd just screwed up my life.

Once the Pokemon Catch Race had concluded, some of the children at the festival left with their parents. Others had managed to persuade their old folks to let them stay for the next event.

For the last two hours, as the Catch Race had been going on, I'd stood on the edge of the railing, looking out at the sunset. The vivid orange disc, too bright to look at directly, was just below the horizon now, though the aftermath was still very much visible.

Janelle had not returned to my side. Of course, she'd been under no obligation to, though it did hurt to be abandoned at this special event we'd gone to together. Then again, I certainly could have been more tactful.

I was polishing off a slice of mediocre pizza when I heard a familiar female voice shout, "What are you doing?"

Maybe it's nothing to do with me. Perhaps a kid's just gotten out of line.

But when the voice shouted my name, I had no choice but to look up. And this may surprise you, but it wasn't Janelle shouting at me.

It was Sionne.

"I could ask the same of you" I told the Pyroar, who'd clearly had her mane cut into the normal female pattern (flowing in a ponytail behind her back, rather than all around her face.)

"Please don't project that onto me" Sionne replied, probably barely resisting the urge to roar.

"Fine. But you were so vociferous in telling me not to attend the Wind Festival. Is there any reason you're here right now?"

"I'm just telling you", the Pyroar said, "that it's not too late to leave. You can escape this place if you want to. So why aren't you doing so?"

"I don't know, maybe because I want to be here?"

"Your face tells a different story."

I forced my mouth into a smile. "Are you sure about that?"

I was hoping that Sionne would laugh in response, but this did not happen. Instead, she grimaced.

"You're not going to fool me, Lucas. And I still recommend you leave this festival before…before things blow up."

"What are you talking about?" I bellowed.

Sionne shook her head. "Never mind. Enjoy the rest of your evening. I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully."

And with that, the Pyroar turned around and began half-walking, half-jogging away from the pier. This left me to stand there, leaning up against the rail, and wonder, What the hell was that all about?

Once I could no longer see Sionne, I turned around and walked back to the dance floor, which had only grown far more crowded since the last time I'd been there. Pokémon were joining with their trainers, and the couples I'd seen before were, for the most part, still there.

It didn't look like a place that would soon face tragedy. Nothing bad could happen here; I didn't say this because I was afraid of that, but rather because I truly believed it. Even if Janelle had ditched me two hours ago, I had nothing to complain about.

As I counted my blessings, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I swiveled around to find the source of the tap.

Speak of the devil!

"It's you again," I muttered.

"Why do you have to be so rude?" Janelle asked, wrinkling her nose a bit. "We're having the time of our lives, aren't we?"

"I guess we are," I replied quietly, putting a paw above my heart to show I meant it. "But I saw someone I didn't expect just a few minutes ago."

"Who was that? And why did they come here?"

I sighed. "You're not going to believe me, but it was Sionne. She seemed to want to warn me about something, though she didn't tell me exactly what it was."

What I didn't mention was that Sionne had used the term blow up to describe an eventual, hypothetical catastrophe. Hopefully it was just an arbitrary choice of words, because if it wasn't…I didn't even want to think about it.

Janelle winked at me. "Well, that's just par for the course by now. Sionne didn't want us to attend the festival, and now she doesn't want us to stay there. I wouldn't bother her about it, she probably just wants to tear us apart."

My heart skipped two or three beats. I could hardly believe my ears.

"Tear us apart?"

Her face grew defensive, and Janelle practically barked as she responded, "I don't mean it in that way, Lucas! Don't get any ideas!"

"Okay. I'm just saying, it was an odd way to phrase it. If we're not…you know."

"It doesn't matter," she snapped. "Let's just head back to the festival grounds. Apparently there's a costume contest among the children here; that's what the brochure said would happen right after the Pokémon Catch Race."

It was a relief that Janelle didn't seem to hate me as much as I'd thought. Even so, I couldn't help but wonder exactly what had induced her to use language implying that she was attracted to me.

Of course she'd think about that, I told myself. We met on Tinder, after all. It's a dating website. But that doesn't mean she has feelings for me.

Once we were back in the middle of the festival, we saw that a young boy, probably nine or ten years old, stood on stage, singing a song I couldn't quite make out. However, it sounded suspiciously like "Fame" by David Bowie.

The boy was dressed as a Torchic, with an orange bodysuit and mask that looked like a Torchic's head. It was corny, yes, but it was also rather adorable. It felt wholesome that the children of Fula City were also involved in making this evening pleasant for all involved.

"Look at him," Janelle whispered. "He seems pretty confident, doesn't he?"

I chuckled. "Of course he's confident, Janelle. He's just a kid. Why wouldn't he be?"

"You know, we're still technically minors," she pointed out. "I'm sure we could enter the contest if we wanted to. It might be too late for that, but-".

"Nah, I get it," I said. "Our costumes would blow the others out of the water. That's 'cause they're not costumes."

We had a brief period of laughter over that as we watched the boy sing. He soon finished the song, and was then replaced by a girl, perhaps twelve or so, in a Chikorita costume. She began singing a tune that sounded suspiciously like "I Don't Like Mondays."

"Well then" Janelle said. "I guess this is nice. Those kids sure seem to be having fun."

"And we are too," I responded.

While I didn't mention this to her, I believed that this might be the start of something new. More specifically, a new phase in our relationship, one that would involve mutual respect as opposed to mutual arguing.

If I could turn back time, I would constantly relive that hour over and over again. Maybe not for all of eternity, but for a while. Janelle and I must have looked like any other Litleo couple at the festival, carefree and full of hope for the future.

Eventually, of course, I would have to face the cold reality of what happened next.

Ferguson: So the Wind Festival was going pretty well for you. It seems that you and Janelle were enjoying yourselves.

Defendant: Yes, that is correct.

Ferguson: But you also mentioned that Sionne warned you not to go there. Is there any reason for that?

Defendant: She thought it would go terribly wrong for Janelle and I.

Ferguson: And was she right?

Defendant: Unfortunately, she was. I should have listened to her.

The costume competition lasted for about an hour, as stated above. The boy who sang "Fame" ended up getting first place; he was given a gold medal for his success. Another boy won the bronze, while the silver went to a girl. Additionally, every other participant was given a platinum medal because "Everyone who takes part is a winner."

Personally, it wasn't my kind of thing. I wasn't necessarily a fan of take-no-prisoners competition, but at the same time, I was a little too old to take part in a game with participation trophies.

Oh well. Soon, that wouldn't matter anymore.

After the masked singing competition had finished, and every child was given their medal, it came time to light the Chinese lanterns. According to the organizer of the event, a woman perhaps in her late twenties, the purpose of this ceremony was to send up prayers for Arceus to bless Fula City over the next year.

Hopefully they have better luck this time, because Arceus certainly wasn't blessing Fula City the last few weeks!

"Everyone who wants to can light a lantern!" the woman announced. "We'll have fun with it!"

Fuck it. You only live once. I'll do it.

I sprang to my feet and scampered over to the lantern-lighting station. There was a short wait for my turn, but I was soon lighting the lantern using a stick I held in my right paw.

I didn't feel weird doing it, either. There were any number of adults taking part in the ceremony as well. Even if I didn't believe in the power of prayer, I could still partake of the ritual and feel like part of the community. That was the beauty of it all.

As my lantern floated up into the sky to join the others, I started to smell something odd.

You see, the receptors in a Pokémon's nose are much stronger than those in the nose of a human. The scent was a familiar one, and yet one no homeowner wants to smell.

"Mommy, where's the smoke coming from?" a young boy all but wailed.

Sniffing had been the first sense I'd used to discover the smoke, but I soon became aware that it was now harder to see. My eyes, which were normally much more perceptive than human eyes, were now watering.

The organizer of the lantern-lighting put her hands up, dropping one of the matches in the process. "We'll figure this out!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "For now, all of you must evacuate!"

But it might be too late. The match the lady had dropped on the ground had ignited, spreading flames around the ground. And that's when total pandemonium set in.

Children and their parents screamed and ran for cover. The few Pokémon I could see from here were either placed in their Pokeballs or left to fend for themselves. Pokémon might be man's best friend, but in a time of panic, self-preservation sets in. People had to put their own proverbial oxygen masks on first before helping others.

"Janelle!" I managed to choke out. The smoke, which took on a sickening shade of dark purple, made it difficult to breathe deeply.

For a few horrifying moments, I was afraid she hadn't heard me. Not only was my voice weaker than normal, but the combined cacophony of shrieks was almost deafening.

No answer came; granted, it's not like I should have expected one. So I had no choice but to put my head down and start pushing my way through the crowd.

Let me tell you, it was difficult. As a short quadruped, I couldn't help but feel as though I would likely be trampled at any moment. The stampede towards the exit was overpowering.

"Janelle!" I screamed again. This time, I did so with all my might, though my voice probably sounded like that of someone who smokes five times a day.

Yet again, no answer. So I kept working my way towards the edge of the pier; perhaps I'd be able to escape the smoke that way. Then it would be easier to find Janelle.

Well, it didn't quite work out that way. The smoke obscured the darkening sky, and I felt the air grow hotter. I was going to burn alive at this rate if I didn't hurry up.

I clambered over the railing, which was more like rock climbing than anything, and hurled myself over the side. At that moment, I didn't care what was in that water; all I knew was that anything would be better than being burned to a crisp. (And yes, I know that Litleo are Fire types, but I didn't know how much that would protect me from the literal inferno chasing me.)

I hit the ocean like a sack of potatoes. I hadn't expected the fall to be so far, nor had I expected the harbor to be so cold. Seriously, it was summer! It wasn't supposed to be like this!

Despite the shock of the water temperature against my fur, I was able to begin doggy-paddling through the harbor. There was a city beach in the distance - I could make it there if I paced myself.

But I didn't have time to pace myself. The smoke was engulfing the air even more forcefully, and it was hard enough to breathe above the surface.

I swam for what felt like forever. The beach was further away than it had looked, especially when the water was so frigid at night. I heard sirens blaring in the distance, which overwhelmed my already-sensitive ears.

So I had no choice but to dive underwater, desperate to escape the noise. I couldn't stay beneath the surface too long for obvious reasons, but the smoke would fill my nose and mouth just as effectively as water if I wasn't careful.

In this manner, I swam haphazardly until my back paws brushed up against the sandy bottom. I then hauled myself out of the sea and onto the beach.

The most recent time I'd done this, I had collapsed from exhaustion and slept for a number of hours. Now, this wasn't an option, because the smoke kept on advancing. If I waited too long, I clearly wasn't going to survive, and the method of my death would not be pleasant.

"Where are you, Janelle?" I croaked, unable to muster much more than that. My joints felt as though someone had filled them with sand; I was a 70-year-old man trapped in a 17-year-old body.

The beach was deserted; well, except for me, that is. I scanned the skyline of Fula City for any sign of a female Litleo, but I didn't see any such creature.

So what was I supposed to do? Go back to the festival and search through what had to be nothing but smoldering rubble in the hope that I'd find a girl I might or might not care about?

My usual answer would have been "hell no." After all, one's instinct must always be to save oneself first, even if doing so is far from the moral thing to do. That's how humans evolved as a species, isn't it?

But then I paused. I knew, with absolute certainty, that if I were in Janelle's position, I would have been begging her to help me in this way. To leave no stone unturned in an effort to rescue me. As painful as it was, as hard as the smoke made it to continue drawing breath, I knew what I needed to do.

So I sprinted back to the Wind Festival, which was by now little more than a massive column of fire expanding upwards. Nothing but heat and screams of agony, panic, and fear were present.

I steeled myself for what was necessary. At least, that's what I'd like to think I did. In reality, I was paralyzed by indecision; it's easy enough to say you'd sacrifice yourself for someone else, but it's quite another to actually go through with it.

Just when I was about to work up the courage to go in, I heard someone shout, "Lucas!"

At first, I thought for sure that I'd been hallucinating. It made no sense that she'd made it out alive. Hadn't the young woman I'd been looking for been right by my side?

Nonetheless, there was Janelle in her Litleo form, kicking the ground the way a bull does when it's angry. Needless to say, she looked more than eager to get the hell out of Dodge.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked in a near-shriek. "We've got to run!"

I didn't need to be told a third time. As the world burned behind us, Janelle and I sprinted into the distance. We didn't have any destination in mind; only away from the Wind Festival, which no longer seemed worth celebrating anyway.

"Sionne was right, wasn't she?" I managed to croak as we ran alongside one another, the buildings of Fula City on the left and the sea to the right.

"Huh?" Janelle asked, with only a little more strength than me.

"About the festival, remember? She said we shouldn't go. And we should have listened to her."

Even in the midst of an all-out sprint for our lives, Janelle still managed to roll her eyes. She even had enough air to offer a scathing critique of my reasoning.

"Don't blame others for your own decisions, Lucas!" she snapped. "It never goes well!"

Amidst the blaring sirens of emergency vehicles, including the loudest of all (the fire engine), I felt as though my brain would explode. That was bad enough already, but now Janelle was giving me a life lesson, or at least trying to.

What if she has a point? What if I really do try and shift the blame to people who don't deserve it?

I shook my head. That wasn't nearly as important as escape right now. Later, I would have time to ponder my own flaws. Right now, I had to deal with another flaw, which became evident as soon as we reached Fula City's marina.

If my choice of songs to name-drop in this chapter seems random, that's because it is. I just selected whatever songs my randomized YouTube playlist had generated. And I listen to songs for the melody, not the lyrics.

I would like to thank everyone for reading this far, and I'll see you guys next time.