Thank you all for 20 favorites, and may there be many more. This is the longest chapter of Escape from Thunderhead so far, at well over seven thousand words, and it's a doozy.

I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I enjoyed writing it. There's a twist coming that some of you might have foreseen, but we'll see how many of you guessed it. Here we go.

Current music: Donald Where's Your Troosers - The Irish Rovers

SIONNE'S POV

In order to understand why I treated Janelle the way I did, it may be helpful to establish context. Of course, those words aren't acceptable in any context, and I could definitely have been kinder.

But if future generations want my testimony as a "mitigating factor", to put it one way, then I'm more than happy to oblige. Quite frankly, I want the truth to be known.

So here goes.

I was born in the middle of the winter in Chilly Waters. Unlike locations further north, such as the mainland of Sinnoh, it was very rare to see snow in the Fula Region. The moderate latitude, as well as the warm sea breezes, prevented that from happening. Even so, the day of my birth was cold, cloudy, and very windy.

I'm told that I was born at home. Of course, nobody remembers being born, but from what I later learned, my mother was ill with a cold as a result of the weather, which made her labor even more difficult. (Once I learned this part of the tale, I resolved to treat my mother as warmly as possible.)

From the very beginning, my mother was the main caregiver in the household. Leopold would sometimes come in to check on us, but he never actually helped care for me directly. Still, the fact that the Village Elder came by warmed my heart, even if it was only occasionally. It made the village feel more like a community, which was especially important given the void my father left behind.

You see, my father was always a rather distant figure from me. He would tuck me into bed about once a week, but other than that, he seemed to be at meetings and on "business trips" constantly. He was rather opaque about what, precisely, these business trips entailed - all I knew was that he made good money doing his job.

Okay, that's not all I knew. I also knew that my mother wasn't the only one to express disapproval about his actions.

One evening, when I was perhaps ten or eleven years old, Leopold came knocking at the door. It was one of the rare occasions when my father was home, but not my mother. My dad opened the door.

"There you are, Roy," Leopold said with a dry chuckle. "I swear, sometimes it feels like you're hiding from us on purpose."

"I'm not, Chief," my father insisted. "The only ones I'm hiding from are the people who oppose what I do in my capacity as an employee for Seablast. But I've been fully transparent with you guys."

"Roy, you'd do well to spend more time with your family" the Village Elder responded. "They all care about you, and you should care about them too. Family matters, even now."

"Yes, but money matters too," my dad told Leopold. "I'm going to be CEO within a few years if I keep this up, and I couldn't be prouder."

"I'm proud too" I piped up from the corner. I hadn't exactly been hiding from this conversation as a Litleo, but I hadn't been too eager to enter it either; that is, until my resolve crumbled.

"Well, your wife isn't that proud of you, I must say," the Village Elder said sharply. "In fact, Gloria has claimed that your long absences are grounds for divorce."

My dad suddenly looked desperate. "I did not know Chilly Waters allowed divorce in cases not involving spousal abuse. But I will…I vow to be a better husband than that."

"Apologize to her, not to me" Leopold shot back. "I can't divine what she thinks."

"I will," my father insisted. "But Chief, I need to strike a balance between my responsibilities at Seablast and my marriage. Sometimes it seems like I can be a good manager, or I can be a good husband and father, but I can't be all three."

"It's a false dichotomy," Leopold insisted. "And Gloria, had she been privy to this conversation, would not have been happy with you."

"No, she won't," Roy responded. "I…I will take that to heart."

I might not have been in tune with the "adult world" at this age, but even then, I understood the cycle. First my father would be away from my mother and I for a long period of time, leading to anger from my mother. He'd eventually return, and after a spirited argument between my parents, my dad would promise to do better.

And almost invariably, he'd break that promise. I saw no reason to think this time would be any different.

"You had better" Leopold replied on his way out the door. "Because she's already given you quite a few chances. One fine morning, she may decide that it's no longer worth it."

"Don't threaten me," my father grunted.

"I'm not threatening you, Roy" the Village Elder told my dad, gently yet gruffly. "I'm merely telling you the truth."

Those last words from Leopold would stick with me for quite a bit longer. Over the next couple of years, I kept them in my mind whenever my parents had another argument about our living situation.

My father sent back sizable sums of money from his trips, enabling my mother and I to live in relative luxury. While I can't speak for my mother, I don't think it was worth it to her, having all that money in exchange for her husband.

The arguments grew more and more intense with each passing week. And yet it felt like the same thing over and over again too. How much longer would my parents put up with this sort of relationship before something gave?

After a few months of this, I came to the conclusion that it would never happen. Until I moved out of this village, or at least my parents' home, I would never be free from my parents' verbal fights.

Imagine my surprise when my parents walked in the door one afternoon when I was fourteen, turned away from each other, and then sat down in different chairs. They did not exchange eye contact.

"What's going on?" I blurted out.

My mother sighed angrily. "Do you want to tell her, Roy?"

"Sure thing, Gloria," my father replied. Turning to me, he continued with the following three words:

"We're getting divorced."

I gasped. Mind you, this wasn't because I wanted my parents to continue being miserable with one another, but rather because I hadn't expected it to ever happen at this point.

"That is correct," my mother replied. "Your father and I will be splitting the finances, but as we agreed, I'll be the one to move out."

That's not fair. I'm not a divorce lawyer, but Dad's the one who checked out of the marriage. Let him be the one to move away.

"We both love you very much, Sionne," my father told me. "We just don't love each other anymore - at least, she doesn't love me. This divorce was her decision."

My mother rolled her eyes. "That's enough, Roy. I don't want to talk to you anymore!"

Once Gloria, my mother, was no longer in the room, my father looked down at me with a sad smile.

"This wasn't my choice, Sionne. You need to know that. Your mother - Gloria - she cited irreconcilable differences as the reason for divorce. She thinks we just grew apart. But that's not true, and I know it!"

I wasn't brave enough to stand up to him. I didn't want to rock the boat, as it were, so I said nothing. But deep down, I think I knew even then that he was wrong.

My memory is that after that, things seemed to happen so fast. Within the week, my mother had left my childhood home with hardly a trace. It wasn't fair to her to have to uproot her whole life just because her husband had been less than stellar, but I didn't make the rules.

And my life changed. A lot was different all at once. For instance, I was home alone a lot more often, although, to my father's credit, he at least paid lip service to the idea of being a homemaker. He didn't go on quite so many business trips for the next two years.

Even so, I had to gain some skills on my own. As an example, cooking became a hobby of mine, and I soon found myself making most of my meals alone. (Whenever my dad tried to help, he ended up making things worse.)

It wasn't uncommon for my father to end up taking "work calls" when he could have been doing something else. More than once, I heard him speaking rather passionately about one coworker or another, as in, "She's really hot, isn't she?"

And that raised some questions. Was there something I didn't know about what had caused the split? Had he been having an affair?

No. I don't want to believe that about my own father. He might have lost his now-ex's trust, but I need to let him keep mine, for both our sakes.

On several occasions, I worked up the courage to ask him what he was doing with Seablast that was so important. And each time, he'd dismiss it as "none of your concern", or once, "none of your business." Nevertheless, I persisted, but my efforts were fruitless.

Sweet sixteen.

For most of the village's Pokémon, this was roughly the age when they would have to go through the coming-of-age rituals, after which they'd be considered adults. For many of them, it was an exciting prospect, if a humiliating one.

But not for me.

You see, the night before I was scheduled to perform the ritual dance, my father woke me up at about two in the morning. This was a red flag, since he usually respected my right to a good night's sleep.

"What's wrong, Dad?" I asked grouchily. "This had better be pretty important."

"It is," he insisted. "I hate to wake you so early, Sionne, but I have something to tell you."

"What is that? Just tell me!" All I wanted was to go back to sleep and wake up refreshed in the morning, for it would be a very big day indeed.

"I've been selected as CEO of the Seablast Corporation" he replied. "My flight to Coronet City is today; that's where I'll be living now. You're on your own."

Given that I was sixteen and had a wide support network if necessary, it wasn't really that I was worried about independent life. Rather, I found myself furious that Dad would abandon another family member just like that.

I still had many questions on the tip of my tongue. I stayed silent for a few more seconds in the hopes that my father would answer them; when he didn't say anything, I decided to jump in.

"What are you doing with Seablast, exactly, as CEO?" I enquired.

My dad shrugged. "I thought you already knew. Seablast is a mining corporation."

"But that's so wasteful!" I exclaimed. "Isn't that terrible for the environment?"

"Some things are just a necessary evil," my dad replied. "Just because it happens doesn't mean I have to like it. It's just the way the world works, sweetie."

I lowered my eyebrows and raised my voice. "Do. Not. Call. Me. Sweetie. It's deeply offensive."

"Whatever" my dad responded. "I'm leaving right now, but I'll talk on the phone with you regularly. And I expect you to pick up whenever I do call - you're still my daughter, even if I'm going to live thousands of miles away."

Now he's just rubbing it in.

And then my father leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I recoiled at this action, simply because it felt saccharine, insincere. He didn't actually love me - he just wanted me to think he did.

While I'd been groggy upon first being woken up that night, the grogginess didn't last long. In fact, within minutes I found it impossible to return to slumber. I was too preoccupied.

What could possibly possess my father to willingly become the CEO of such a destructive company? Why would he give everything up - a loving daughter, a kind seaside community, and more - just to travel to Coronet City?

He's worked there as long as I can remember. It's not like he just signed up today.

But that didn't make it feel any less offensive. It was almost like he'd been living a double life this whole time, even if my mother must have known more about Seablast than I did. No wonder she divorced him.

Later that morning, the Village Elder paid me a visit. I was the only one in the house, both now and for the foreseeable future.

I was in the process of washing dishes when Leopold barged in behind me unannounced. Despite this, I didn't really mind him being here - nobody in the village disliked Chief Leopold.

"Good morning, Sionne" he told me, gruffly but not angrily.

"Morning, Chief" I replied through gritted fangs.

"There's no need to call me Chief. I think you know me well enough that I can just be Leopold. But enough about that - how are you holding up?"

"Fine, I guess. This day was coming eventually; my dad was always tempted by the lure of fortune and prestige. Better to get it out of the way."

Leopold shook his head. "Not a good decision on his part. He's leaving you all alone."

"I can handle myself on my own" I shot back. "It's not like I'm six."

"Well, yes, but aren't you going to be lonely? I don't see you interacting too much with the other villagers."

"There aren't many others my age," I told the Village Elder. "And those whom I might be friends with will probably judge me for what my father does at Seablast. They probably see me as a traitor to the species."

Leopold frowned. "It's not wise to make assumptions, Sionne. But I agree that your father was blinded by the headlights, as it were. He's chasing money, and when he's eighty-five, he'll regret it."

"I hope so," I muttered.

"He is still your father, you know. I wouldn't wish regret upon anybody, not even my worst enemy. It's one of the most pernicious emotions there is."

When I didn't say anything, the Village Elder continued. "As long as the Mythical Cat remains safe, I think we can breathe easy climate–wise. But if something happens to it…".

He didn't need to finish that sentence. Even then, I was well aware that the "Mythical Cat" was Zeraora.

"I get it," I told Leopold. "Just let me be bitter in peace, will you? Roy might be my father, but that doesn't mean I have to understand him."

"Fair enough," the Village Elder said. "Make sure to speak to your father on the phone whenever he calls - it's important to keep in touch with your elders."

While I couldn't speak for my future self, my gut instinct was that doing this would be akin to reopening a wound that had already been stitched up. It didn't matter that Leopold wanted me to - he didn't know me as well as I knew myself.

From that point on, I knew that my life would become a lot less carefree. I'd been dealing with my parents' arguments for a long time, yes, but now I had to deal with something else too: The knowledge that, far to the north of here, my dad was engaging in such an immoral profession.

I hadn't expected to feel particularly lonely once my father was gone. For all intents and purposes, I'd been largely alone for much of the last two years, so I'd thought I was used to it by now.

I was wrong.

As childish as this may sound, doing the coming-of-age dance was a lot more humiliating without my dad by my side to support me. He could have given me tips on how to dance more gracefully (or fail to dance with more grace), but he just wasn't around.

At the end of the dance, I fell flat on my face, and there were numerous laughs from the crowd that had gathered. One of them, however, was just a touch louder than the rest.

"Arkoon! Knock it off!" one of the village's men exclaimed. "You're embarrassing her!"

This adult male Pyroar, whose name I had never bothered to learn, was making me feel worse, not better. I was not a damsel in distress who constantly needed encouragement; I could handle myself, thank you very much. Nonetheless, I felt my face grow hotter than the surface of the sun.

I was ushered off the stage by Leopold. I would have slunk off alone and not given the others the time of day, except that the Village Elder wouldn't let me do that. Not on his watch. And, as much as I wanted to, I couldn't go against Leopold.

So I felt the invisible beams of dozens (perhaps over a hundred) pairs of eyes on me. I had no doubt they could see how every tuft of fur on my body was standing on end, how each one had turned the color of strawberry lemonade.

When we were alone, the Village Elder turned to me with a sigh.

"You're not at the top of your game today, are you?"

I sighed too, glaring at Leopold. "I'm afraid not, Chief."

"Of course, you didn't need me to tell you that, I'm imagining. Is it still bothering you that your father left?"

I was tempted to tell the truth: Yes. But Leopold, after having humiliated me to no small degree on that stage, didn't deserve to know the truth. I wasn't going to give him more closure than I had to.

"No, it's not," I snapped. "It's not that at all. I'm just not a very skilled dancer."

The Village Elder gave me another of his sad smiles. "I understand that, Sionne. I really do. But the point of the ceremonial dance isn't for you to show off your skills. We don't expect anyone to be an excellent dancer at your age."

"Huh?" I asked, because I'd always thought of Leopold as someone who sought excellence in others.

"Indeed," he replied. "The dance is meant to make you swallow your pride, not flaunt it. That's the most important part of being a Pyroar - don't let your head get too big."

When I didn't say anything, Leopold asked a different question: "Does that make you feel any better?"

"Maybe a little," I said. "I guess we all have to be humble at some point."

"Quite" the Village Elder responded. "And let me tell you this: Nothing you could do here would be as shameful as what your father has done. But don't judge him too harshly for it; after all, he is not Arceus. He isn't perfect; nobody on Nexus is."

"I understand," I replied. "But it's not just that he's not perfect, he's not even close."

Leopold frowned. "I guess part of achieving adulthood is understanding that maturity doesn't involve not making mistakes. It's how you deal with those mistakes that matters."

"Okay" I said with a small nod. "I'll try to remember that." And I really would; if taking those words to heart might help me, then I was determined to do just that.

"That being said, you don't have to forgive your father. But he's still your father. You're not going to give him up that easily, are you?"

I shivered.

"It's difficult, I understand that. It can be very hard to accept that the people you've looked up to your whole life are so flawed. But it's a key part of growing up."

He did not understand. Rather than reassuring me, it felt like he was rubbing it in further. I wanted to yell at him: This isn't sunscreen! Don't rub it in further! But of course, that would only lead to more shame.

Eventually he seemed to relent. "I'll check in on you later, Sionne," he told me. "For now, just try to relax. I'm sure the villagers don't see you any differently - they all had to do the same thing."

I tried to remember everything Leopold had told me that day. It was the only way I could maintain even a modicum of self-esteem; it's not easy to come back from such an embarrassing event.

For the first few weeks after the coming-of-age rituals, I stayed holed up at home. The only people I talked to were Leopold, who checked in on me every other day to ensure I was still alive, and my father, who called me roughly once a week.

Both of them were difficult to talk to, particularly my dad. He would often ask me how life was going in Chilly Waters, and express how sorry he was that he wasn't there to see me come of age. I wanted to tell him that if he were truly sorry, he could have not left the Fula Region in the first place, but what did I know?

Anyway, the conversation was usually over quickly; I had that going for me, at least. And then I'd glance at my new tattoo, which took the form of a Litleo cub next to a pair of concentric circles connected by two lines within.

The tattoo, Leopold had explained to me, was intended to remind me that I still had plenty to be proud of. It was okay to have some self-respect, so long as one did not overindulge in it. It served as a counterbalance against the humble pie I'd been force-fed that fateful day.

After the first month or so, I reasoned that I had to leave my house eventually, and the longer I waited, the harder and more awkward it would be when I finally did venture into the world again. So I went on small outings at first - to the village store, or to the local library - and eventually progressed to more ambitious errands.

Most of the villagers only gave me passing glances, but there were a few exceptions. Most notably, Arkoon would curl his tongue at me as though he were imagining how delicious I might be. (Cannibalism, by the way, was a strict no-no in our society, so I wasn't worried about being eaten. The embarrassment was a far greater factor.)

Gradually, I reawakened, and my social stamina approached its zenith. I was done hiding from the world - the old Sionne was back. And I lived the next two years as socially as I could, determined to squeeze as much enjoyment out of every minute as possible.

Spring turned to summer, which became autumn before long. While we're on the topic of seasons, it may be a good time to talk more about the region's climate.

Fall and winter came with plenty of rain, which was much-needed after a hot, dry summer. There were occasional forest fires in the distance, but they never got close to our little village. That was the way things were, the way they'd always been, and how they always would be.

At least, that's what I wanted to believe.

One morning, a few sleeps prior to my 18th birthday, I awoke to the smell of colder, crisper air than usual. I shivered as I opened my eyes.

A significant number of white flakes had collected on the windowsill. There were also some of them on the floor of the house, where they had melted. I made a mental note to tread carefully when navigating my dwelling that day.

This must be that mystical substance I've never heard of. I think…I think it must be called "snow."

I'd heard stories of how people entertained themselves on snowy days. They might build snowmen, make snow angels, or scoop the snow into spheres and chuck them at each other. But that's apparently not what Leopold thought.

The Village Elder pulled those in my section of the village aside and told us the following:

"Our intelligence is working on a theory for why snow has fallen here for the first time in nearly twenty years. I would implore you all not to panic, but also to be aware that something is highly out of the ordinary. If the citizens of Chilly Waters must be called into action to solve the issue, we will not hesitate to do so."

In other words: Don't worry about it. No pressure. And don't be concerned about the weather. Just keep living your lives, and if something's wrong, don't come to us - we'll come to you.

Knowing what I know now, I almost wish Leopold had told us the truth from the beginning. It may have made the days harder to get through, but at least he'd have been transparent. In the grand scheme of things, it'd have been better to know just how dire these straits were.

But the way it was presented? It made me want to just celebrate the snow, which I cringe at now, for it heralded the beginning of the end of anything resembling normal life for me.

The first snowstorm was an important moment in my life, though I didn't recognize its significance at the time. Instead, I may or may not have made a snow angel or two (though I was careful not to crush my tail, as all tailed Pokemon must be.)

It wasn't more than a few days before the snow melted, leaving behind a lot of mud. But to my surprise, it snowed again the following week, and at that point, I knew something was seriously wrong. This didn't just happen coincidentally.

Still, if I'm being honest with you, I didn't think as critically about it as I should have. Yes, something was "off" about the world, but it wasn't my problem to deal with it. I shouldn't panic about something I didn't control.

This would end up being a big mistake. What the hell was wrong with me?

One day in the middle of summer, my heart was pounding with anticipation. I didn't fully understand this - why should I be so worried when I didn't even know what to worry about?

The morning felt interminable; despite this, there was a sense of impending doom in the air. I don't think I was the only one affected, either; during my daily constitutional around the village, I became aware that none of the other villagers would make eye contact with me. They were probably all in their own worlds.

It was in the early afternoon when everything went to hell.

I was minding my own business in the house, reading a book, when the voice of Ben, the town crier, pierced the air, threatening to shatter my window. I cringed at the sound, even though it was Ben's job to deliver breaking news.

"There's a stranger on the shores!" he shouted.

I'll give Ben credit for this; he knew how to pique my curiosity. I sprang out of my chair, my book completely forgotten, and exited the house.

Right away, I was caught up in a veritable river of Pyroar and Litleo. Everyone and their mother wanted to see what all the commotion was about. So I followed them to the rocky beach on the edge of Chilly Waters.

In the stretch of forest right next to the beach, there he was.

A Litleo, perhaps a year or two younger than me (which was odd; shouldn't he have evolved by now?) lay on the ground, seemingly not caring how dirty it was. He was deeply asleep, as evidenced by the gentle rise and fall of his chest, as well as the fact that he didn't respond to us.

"We need to string him up," a threatening voice spoke.

I didn't need to look around to know that this voice belonged to Arkoon, the most paranoid Pyroar in town. He never met a newcomer he didn't want to burn at the spit. And we didn't even eat the Pokemon we burned, not that cannibalism is okay.

Arkoon just wants him to suffer and die.

"I think that's a little premature" another Pyroar, this one a woman, piped up. "He's clearly exhausted; he's not going to fight us. Let's just let him sleep, and then we can decide."

"It's been a long time since we had a newcomer," Leopold said. "Several years, if all of you can believe it. So what do we do?"

"I've got the harness ready," Smithy, the village blacksmith, told us. "I can get the Litleo in there right away, and then he'll be raised over the fire."

Arkoon licked his lips. "Let's wait until he awakens to lower him in" he said, a hint of brutality in his voice. "He needs to be taught a lesson: Don't trespass upon Chilly Waters, or you will pay the ultimate price."

I shivered at the sound of Arkoon's voice. I would never get used to it, no matter how many times I heard him speak.

The Village Elder, Chief Leopold, sighed. "Well, we can hang him up above the fire pit. But we're not going to lower him until he starts waking up. We'll give him a chance to plead for his life. Is that a fair compromise, Arkoon?"

In my mind, that's not a good compromise. A fair compromise would be to let him leave unharmed.

Of course, I had no power here, so I could do nothing but watch as Smithy eased the Litleo's sleeping body into the harness. With every strap and buckle Smithy engaged to keep the newcomer secure in there, I felt more and more helpless, as though I were the one whose life hang in the balance, no pun intended.

Arkoon was the one to raise the newcomer twenty feet in the air using a winch. I hoped the new Litleo wasn't afraid of heights, because if he was, his execution would be even more horrifying for him.

At a certain point, I couldn't look at the limp, dangling body beneath the forest canopy. It was just too much.

As I walked back to my house, I reflected on how ashamed I felt to be part of a community that did this to visitors. It almost made me want to vomit, and for a few minutes I wondered who was more despicable, Arkoon or my father.

It doesn't matter. What matters is whatever happens to this newcomer - we can't just kill him like that.

Once the sun had gone down, Ben made his rounds once more. There was an even greater urgency in his voice this time.

"The intruder is stirring! The lowering will begin shortly!"

So they want me to witness all the grisly details? How kind of them.

And yet, this whole thing might end up like a horrific car wreck: It was awful, yes, but you just couldn't look away.

Yet again, I exited my house, this time to find that I didn't need daylight to see the path in front of me. Many of the other villagers carried torches, which they used either to light the way or simply to intimidate anyone who did not agree with the village's protocol.

I gulped as I reached the "central square"; or rather, what passed for one in our little community. It was more of a circle that surrounded a giant pit, which sank into the ground much like a child's skin when they are dehydrated.

The next thing that happened made me gasp with fright.

One by one, the villagers threw their torches into the depression, chanting "Burn the intruder! Burn the intruder!" repeatedly. I'd never seen such a strong mob mentality among any group, let alone the one I called home.

"Where is he?" one of the other Pyroar exclaimed threateningly, as though he wanted to finish the newcomer off before the lion manning the wheel could.

"He's up there!" Arkoon shouted, jabbing one of his claws into the air. "And we're going to make sure he regrets having ever trespassed upon Chilly Waters!"

Uh, I'm sure you don't care about this, but if he dies here, he's not going to regret it. That's because he'll be dead.

I watched as the Litleo hovering above us began to wake. His belly faced the fire, his back the forest canopy. Though even I couldn't see that well, it sure looked as though the victim-to-be were confused about what was transpiring. But that confusion would soon be replaced by horror as he regained full consciousness.

"Let him down gently, Chief, he's waking!"

Arkoon cackled as he spun the wheel. It was plain to see that he took great joy in this, even though "executioner" isn't a job title the average person would be proud to have. And, slowly but surely, the Litleo descended towards the bonfire, the harness lurching his body forwards so that he could stare right at his impending fiery doom.

And then he started screaming. Let me tell you, I'd heard plenty of shrieks before, but nothing can fully prepare you for the sound of pure, unadulterated, absolute fear. It was almost enough to make me lose consciousness; I even stepped backwards, my head spinning.

"Make the announcement, Leopold!"

The Village Elder wouldn't condemn one of his own to die like this, would he? I mean, the newcomer isn't one of us, but surely Leopold's not that callous, right?

I was proven wrong within seconds.

"I, Village Elder Leopold, do not grant foreigners the benefit of the doubt! This Litleo came across our domain, and he will pay dearly for trespassing!"

That instant felt like a betrayal of everything I'd thought I knew about Leopold. He never acted like this - what had gotten into him? My stomach turned as I pondered the possible answers.

"Stop!" a slightly squeaky voice sounded from up above. "I didn't mean to!"

That's him. I'm sure he's feeling desperate, because why wouldn't he? He's pleading for his life!

As the Litleo was ten feet above the ground, Arkoon stopped the wheel where it was, leaving the victim-to-be hanging above the fire pit, his face illuminated by the inferno. And I'll never forget the look of panic etched across that face; you could see it in the eyes, the mouth, and even the chin.

Arkoon licked his claws with visible excitement. "Please tell me why we should spare your life," he said. "The burden of proof is on you to show why we can trust you."

"Because I didn't do anything! And that's not how it all works!"

The Litleo was doing a great job pleading for his life; certainly, had I been working the wheel, I would have stopped lowering him. Of course, Arkoon's words offered more evidence, as if it were needed, that he was enjoying this.

Leopold turned to Arkoon. His expression was very grave indeed, a stark contrast with how he'd been acting when he'd announced that the Litleo was to be put to death.

"Arkoon, let's defer this execution" the Village Elder said calmly.

Arkoon licked his sharpest nail rather threateningly, but he did as he was told, turning the wheel in the opposite direction so that the Litleo rose higher in the air. And then the would-be victim yelled something I wouldn't forget.

"I was once a human!"

Wait a minute…that can't be right. I mean, I don't want him burned to a crisp, but why does he think that'll save him? Or maybe he's just trying to throw everything at the wall to see what sticks.

After a few seconds, Leopold turned to Arkoon. "Let's give him a chance to explain himself. Get him back to the ground, outside of the fire."

"Please let me down!" the Litleo screamed once he'd been winched away from the bonfire. "This harness is too tight!"

First world problems, I could imagine Arkoon wanting to say. Be grateful you're not dead.

I couldn't just stand there; I had to do something. I felt compelled to act by what I was seeing.

"Just let him down, Arkoon!" I exclaimed, somewhat desperately. "He doesn't deserve this!"

For a few seconds, all eyes were on me. Me, the person who'd rather be ignored much of the time! But fortunately, the Village Elder backed me up.

"Sionne is correct," Leopold said. "And if it comes to a fight…".

"Then I'd win."

Fortunately, I didn't have to witness a duel to the death between Leopold and Arkoon, which would very likely end with the latter being in charge of Chilly Waters. That was an outcome I wouldn't be able to live with.

The Litleo was lowered to the ground and helped out of the straps by yours truly. If I hadn't been the one to actually spare his life, it felt good to help him free of his bondage. Once he'd managed to shake off the numbness that comes with being tightly strapped in, the Litleo turned to Leopold. The Village Elder, however, was the first to speak.

"So, we spared you in the hopes you could provide some answers. What makes you special compared to all the other Litleo in this world?"

"Because I used to be human," the Litleo responded.

I'll give him this: If he is lying, he's awfully committed to that lie.

There were a lot of gasps in the crowd, including one from me. One of the other Pyroar expressed bewilderment by saying, "That hasn't happened before. Of all the wild Pokemon who come here for whatever reason, they always have a different excuse. Maybe they have family they need to get back to, or maybe they'll taste terrible."

Taste terrible? I thought we didn't do that here.

"Maybe", Arkoon said. "But even if we're to spare this child, I see no reason to trust him. Why shouldn't we just send him off on a raft? Banish him to whence he came?"

"Because…".

"Because what? Please, newcomer, state your name and purpose."

I felt certain that my heart was pounding almost as powerfully as the newcomer's. It had practically risen into my throat.

"Uh…".

I'll spare you some of the boring details, mainly because you've probably heard them all before given the enormity of his case. Suffice it to say that Lucas Teller claimed to be seventeen years old (too old, in my mind, not to have evolved) and from a place called the United States. He also mentioned names of other countries; I think they were called Canada, the Netherlands, and the Philippians.

Leopold didn't seem to fully believe Lucas. He said that we didn't know the newcomer's world, which I couldn't exactly disagree with. For his part, Lucas seemed to grow frustrated as well, stating that he wasn't part of our world.

"And you think that exonerates you?" Arkoon bellowed. "Quite frankly, if anything, it makes you even more of an intruder."

"Arkoon, please", I jumped in. "You're scaring him."

"Good! He should be scared! I'm scared! This world is going to hell lately, and maybe he's a symptom of it!"

Lucas frowned. "In what way is this world going to hell?"

Leopold let loose a great sigh. "We'll tell you later. But first, our turn to ask you something: How did you get here?"

There it was. The time for the big reveal had come. Lucas wasted only a few seconds in responding.

"I was sleeping in a ditch and woke up in a dinghy. What an upgrade, huh?"

Well, that sounds pretty miserable.

"So where am I now?" Lucas enquired. "I understand I'm not on Earth, but what planet is this?"

Earth? Where's that?

Leopold spoke up next. "Well, these words may not mean anything to you. But you're on the Fula Continent, near the northern end of it, to be exact. This village is known as Chilly Waters."

Lucas snorted. "Huh. A pretty accurate title, I'd say."

After another few tense exchanges between Lucas, Leopold, and Arkoon, the Village Elder expressed a wish to retire soon. Of course, he knew that if he stepped down, the void might well be filled promptly by Arkoon, something he did not want. For all intents and purposes, Leopold was trapped there until he croaked.

But enough about that. As the crowd started to break up, I decided to take a…well, I don't know if risk is the right word. However, I'd like to think I made this offer out of the goodness of my heart, and not because I was desperate for company.

"He can stay with me," I said. "I'll ensure he has something to eat and a nice bed to sleep in."

The villagers remaining in the square all gave me funny looks. Really, I can't blame them; offering to take in the guy who was about to be executed was probably only a little short of social suicide.

Still, as Lucas was led away for his tour of the village (after which, Leopold assured me, he would be dropped off at my house for the night), I couldn't help but smile. It felt good to know that I was making a difference in a positive way.

Thousands of miles to the north, of course, my father was still CEO of the Seablast Corporation. We used to talk on the phone about once a week; then once a week turned to once a month. By the time Lucas the Litleo showed up on the shore, I hadn't spoken to Roy in a good three months.

Perhaps we'd just grown apart, though I didn't need anyone to tell me that. Of course, it was also possible that my father had something to hide from me; though, again, I was well aware that Seablast engaged in some shady behavior.

Whatever my father was doing in Coronet City, I could take comfort in knowing that I had nothing to do with it. The sins of the parent shouldn't bother the child too much; at least, that's what I wanted to believe. And if recognizing my father's mistakes made me a more empathetic, moral individual, could that be a net positive?

I shook my head. As my eyelids grew heavier, my desire to ponder such philosophical matters grew lighter. All of this could wait until morning.

On that note, I turned around and slunk back off to my humble home for the night.

There it is! The twist I was teasing! From the moment I conceived of Sionne's character, I decided that Roy would be her father. And I wrote each scene involving her with that in mind.

Also, saying "Philippians" instead of "Philippines" is inspired by a group presentation I did in college last year. One of my partners misspelled the country as the book in the Bible. I didn't correct him because I wanted to get an A. However, I did not intend to offend any Filipinos reading this (which, judging by my FFN country stats, there are a few of you.)

Thank you all for reading!