Ch.56: Scars That Will Never Heal! Griffin's Moment of Self-Reflection!

They were drawing closer. Closer and closer by the day. He prayed they could take a detour around this particular area, but it seems fate (and the guidance of their leader) brought them towards this land he wished never to see again.

Team Ravenfield took over a week to reach the Storm Zone and have been traveling through for the last three or four days. Tempest Valley was weeks away from them. It would probably take a little under a month for them to reach it. Still, they took on the journey with their usual brand of optimism.

The Storm Zone itself was an unusual area to live in. Neighboring the Aqua Zone, they both shared similar features in terms of landscape. The weather, however, is where everything got crazy. The Storm Zone was one of the most chaotic zones to live in due to frequent downpours of rain, raging winds that swept the land, and the monstrous lightning that strikes down mercilessly. Certain areas get more of the other while the very center of the Storm Zone existed the more unforgiving storms. The towns and cities built in that general area adapted over time to combat the powerful weather.

That's where Team Ravenfield was heading themselves, since Tempest Valley existed in the center of the Storm Zone. Tony was looking forward to it, feeling a certain connection with the powerful weather. Gwyn, of course, was overly fascinated with the different zones and looked forward to visiting Tempest Valley, despite the threat of the weather. The Eeveelutions were more indifferent, though Flint enjoyed listing off interesting facts about the zone's climate to his crush.

The only one that wasn't enthused about being in the Storm Zone was Griffin and not because of Tempest Valley. He was more worried about the pathway they were taking to get there, and he knew Wes was intentionally leading them there the moment they stepped through the zone.

Closer and closer, the quieter he became. He dreaded having to go through that graveyard that was once his home. He couldn't bring himself to return after being saved as a child. He couldn't bear to see the contorted, permanent expressions of terror frozen on his fallen village.

It wouldn't be long before his silence and fuming aura could be felt by his comrades. Wes finished studying the map before putting it back in his bag, then looked over his shoulder. "You alright, Griffin?"

Griffin grimaced, then relaxed with only a somber glare he casted off to the side. "…why are we going this way?"

Wes grinned. "Well, it'll make for a great shortcut! Otherwise, we would have to walk around the forest and that might take us some time. I say cutting through it all together is a much better-!"

"Don't lie to me," the Grovyle interrupted bitterly. He sighed, then sent his glare at Wes. "Why…are we going to Monsoon Village?"

Wes dropped his cheerful demeanor and casted a sad smile. "I…just figured you wanted to see your old home after so long."

Griffin grunted indifferently, or at least tried to. "I really don't care."

"Now you're lying," Ella cut in. She glared at Griffin. "You need some closure. You said it yourself. You haven't been back here for thirteen years. I think it's time you finally see the damages for yourself."

"Monsoon Village is a relic of the past," Griffin muttered.

Tony raised his brow at him. "So, it's suddenly worthless, hotshot?"

"I didn't say that…" He clenched his fist. "I just…can't bring myself to see it again." He closed his eyes. "I remember that day with painfully accurate detail. I remember the anguish of my fellow villagers. My fellow clansmen. The Grim Ash Clan, once a proud, powerful clan of warriors, defeated by a single warrior out for blood and thrills." Griffin growled through his teeth. "And I couldn't do anything…"

Gwyn frowned sympathetically. "You were young. You couldn't have done anything."

"…I know…but I wish I could've."

Flint sighed and looked forward. "Regardless, we all came into agreement. You might as well see the state of your village. I heard it hasn't been torn down since this area hasn't had need to be renovated. They've tried to preserve what wasn't completely destroyed."

"Yes…I know…" Griffin stared at his feet with downcast eyes. "…I wish for the honor of my clan to be preserved…"

Wes patted his back, then resumed taking the lead. "Who knows? Maybe there's some stuff you can use that hasn't been scorched. Come on, we're burning daylight!" He ran off ahead, though everyone else kept at about their usual pace.

Griffin looked up at the trees with nostalgic eyes. He could see the tree branches bouncing with the wind…almost like something was jumping across them.

Griffin the Treecko dashed across the tree branches with a stick in his hand. He smirked over his shoulder as he was being chased down by two masked attackers, who were really just Holly and Mack with black cloth around their heads. They wielded sticks as well, with Mack holding his between the three green spheres on his head.

"Surrender, do-gooder!" Holly ordered in a silly, evil voice. "The royal treasure of Choco Latte belongs to us!"

Apparently, Griffin was also carrying a box of chocolates they were supposed to share, so obviously they turned it into a game to steal it back. Griffin landed on a branch and aimed his weapon at them. "Far from it! These goods belong to all in my king's land! I shall defend them with my life!" Even he was putting up an exaggerated voice for the fun of it.

Mack snickered wickedly and slashed the air with his stick. "Then to the death with you!" He bounced off the trees and slammed his stick against the Grovyle's.

Griffin pushed against it, then kicked him back before blocking Holly's. She shoved him back, then joined Mack in pressuring their combined attacks against the 'hero.' Griffin fended for his life 'valiantly,' before meeting the end of his branch. He tried to get a swing it, but his stick was knocked out of his hand. His attackers aimed their weapons for his neck.

"Surrender, thief!" Mack ordered villainously. "You've reached the end of your run!"

"Hand over the royal treasure, now!" Holly shouted.

Griffin took a step back, then stopped himself after confirming he was out of room. However, he grinned slyly. "I'm not done yet!" In a bold move, he jumped and fell off the branch, shocking his pursuers. While they were distracted, he grabbed the branch from under them and spun around before kicking them right in the backs.

"AGH!" Holly and Mack flew off their feet and off the branch.

Griffin flipped in the air and held up the chocolates. "Yes! Victory is-!" Something suddenly tightened around his ankle. "-mine?" He looked, then gasped in horror. A rope was lassoed around his ankle, which pulled him down along with his pursuers.

They screamed as they crashed head first into a large bush, cushioning their fall. They groaned with discomfort before popping their heads out of the bush, glaring at each other, then bursting out into fits of laughter. They rolled out of the bush and kicked their feet in their hysteria.

"S-S-So…h-hero or b-b-b-bandits?!" Holly asked through gasps of air.

Griffin sat up and grinned widely. "Hehehe…I think we all lost!" he admitted.

Mack stood up and smirked. "As if! We clearly had you outnumbered!"

"Yeah, well I outsmarted you!" Griffin countered. He held up the chocolates in his glorious victory. "I say that gives me some heroism points!"

Mack laughed. "Yeah right!"

Holly pressed her leaf hand against her cheek and narrowed her eyes. "You still going to share, buster?"

Griffin grinned and opened the lid. "Of course I am. Even awesome heroes like me can share!" The two rolled their eyes, but gladly snatched some chocolates out of the box. Griffin popped some into his mouth, then shared another laugh with his friends, reveling in their tomfoolery.

"We're almost there!"

Griffin snapped out of his daydreams and focused back on the path. He didn't realize they were nearing the village. He can make out shapes through the trees, obviously being the huts. He frowned slightly, but didn't say a word.

Team Ravenfield stepped out of the forest and entered the village's area. The sight, while not surprising and unexpected, was still saddening to see. It looked exactly how Griffin described in the massacre, or at least the aftermath of it.

Scorched, wooden huts, most still stable while others were collapsed from the repeated exposure to the harsh weather. While the Storm Zone provided rain to keep the land from drying, there was an eerie lack of life inside the village. No gardens, no grass, no trees within the village itself. However, it was all surprisingly well maintained. Griffin knew the bodies were eventually relocated to a grave built on the land, but he didn't expect someone to actually keep the place clean. There wasn't any loose debris to be seen.

The village itself was pretty big, too. Villages, in general, were made to have the communities very close by, only this village wasn't as closely packed like the Eeveelutions' home village. The village had wide open space with several destroyed huts surrounding it. Being a village for a warrior clan, it should be expected that they needed the room for training grounds.

Everyone stared at the destroyed land in awe. Flint even took a step forward and basked in the fallen clan's territory with a sense of wonder. While not a century forgotten village, he got that same feeling of wanting to learn about the village's history and inner culture.

"Incredible…" Flint murmured. "They've been keeping this place preserved with excellent care. So many valuable things could still be intact."

Griffin walked up to his side, stunned by the state of his village. It hurt to see it withered, but he couldn't deny the care that was implemented to keep it standing. "Yeah…"

Gwyn jumped into action and ran ahead of everyone. "Hehehe! Come on, let's explore!"

Flint gasped and ran after her. "Ah! Gwyn, come back!"

Tony walked in casually and whistled tunelessly. "Well, guess we're all exploring. Come on, Hothead, we came here for you."

Griffin growled silently. "I didn't want to…" He sighed and just gave up at that point. "Whatever…" He walked into the village with everyone else. "Just don't break anything. This is my clan's pride and memories here."

"I would never damage sacred artifacts!" Flint swore genuinely. "It's a real honor to learn more about your clan's history!"

Griffin felt a spark of pride in his heart after the Flareon said that, but he didn't show it. Instead, he kept his gaze towards the direction of the huts. He did, however, say, "…if it hasn't been looted yet, check the archives hut. It has documentation of our culture…"

Flint blinked, then clapped his paws together with a big, happy grin. "All that wonderful knowledge!" He quickly grabbed Gwyn's hand and dragged her to the archives in a flash. "Come on, Gwyn! We've got reading to do!"

"Whatever you say, Flinty!" the Mew cheered, willing to go along with him if it made him happy. And it clearly did.

Ella walked up to Griffin's side and held her chin, examining the huts. "…so, Voss started a fire that consumed your village in minutes…" She easily picked up on his tense posture. He was holding back a lot of anger, but she knew not towards her. "Sorry we didn't get your say on the matter…"

"…I should have voiced my concerns earlier…" Griffin admitted. He heaved a heavy sigh and bowed his head. "I hold no bitterness to you or our team. I understand this wasn't done out of mockery or spite. Nothing but a simple gesture. A chance for closure." He pressed his hand against the hut in front of him. "…and yes."

"Yes to…?"

"Voss set a fire to the village before he started his onslaught." Griffin dug his fingers into the hut's wall. "Bastard…using such a cowardly trick. His intention was to keep us from escaping so he could fulfil his sick desires, but he knew the flames would only spread. He just wanted everyone up and alert, then acted as their executioner."

Ella didn't hesitate to rub his back caringly. "You miss your parents, don't you?"

"…I miss everything." He took his hand off the hut, then examined the ashy black smeared on his fingertips. "This village…molded by centuries of development. All offspring of the clan bred from the same bloodline. All of us were connected. A long lineage of family…nearly extinct in one night."

"I…can't imagine going through that," Ella sympathized. "I'm really sorry…"

"You are not at fault…it was just an unfortunate fate that befallen centuries of development." He pressed his back against the wall. "The legacy of my village resting on my shoulders."

Ella sat on her haunches. "Can't you just…start over? The legacy doesn't have to die so long as a member remains. You've got three, in fact."

Griffin sighed and slid to the ground. "Rebuilding the village sounds tempting, but not simple. For one, my clan wields the Emotion Anima, a hereditary magic type that can only be passed off to an offspring. If I wish to make the clan thrive again, I would need a potential mate."

Ella rolled her eyes. "And with your social skills, not a lot of women would want to get near you." She grinned cheekily after earning an annoyed huff from the Grovyle. "Playful jabbing, nothing more."

Griffin shook his head. "Second issue of concern, my two main goals: helping you all retrieve all ten keys and secure the Idol of Origin…" he glared venomously, "and kill Voss." He bowed his head. "With my odds of beating Voss, and that damn prophecy hanging over our heads, my chances of living for the next eighty or so years aren't promising."

Ella smirked. "Not with that attitude."

"I'm being realistic. I don't have a chance in hell beating Voss."

"So, why keep pursuing?"

Griffin sneered before relaxing his face. "Because I hate being realistic."

Ella grinned approvingly. "That sounds about right." She tilted her head and smiled caringly. "You want to be alone for a bit, don't you?"

"It would be much appreciated. I wish to…recuperate with my past. I might as well not waste your act of kindness and take advantage of it."

Ella nodded and stood up. "Good choice. I'll be over there doing my own thing." She tapped her forehead jewel and groaned. "I'm going to be busy getting my psychic powers back up. Balancing trays on my head is one thing, but doing complex stuff with my paws and teeth like writing is a pain in the ass…" she muttered to herself as she walked away from the Grovyle.

Griffin stood up and slid his hands into his jacket pockets before taking a quiet stroll around the open grounds. He closed his eyes and felt the presences of his allies as they explored the village. Tony seemed to be relaxing on the roofs. Flint and Gwyn's presences could be felt in the direction of the archives. The Flareon's aura was speedily running around, concluding he was enjoying his time around so many books and scrolls. Wes seemed to be digging through the homes. As long as he didn't take any of his clans' valuables like weapons or artifacts, he didn't really care if he snagged some loose bits or jewels.

Griffin guided himself to a familiar spot he well remembered: the training grounds. He had such fond memories of battling his superiors and testing his abilities. The bruises of battle, the experience, the connections.

He stopped in front of the hut that was used to house the equipment. Just like all the other huts, it was burnt, yet still stable. He carefully opened the door and let himself in.

Wooden training swords resting on the racks. Training dummies sitting off in the corner. Body armor when fighting got rougher than usual. Just about everything the higher ups of their clan used to train the younglings.

Griffin picked up one of the wooden swords, then firmly swung it around, just to get a feel of his old training weapon. He could feel the grooves in the handle from countless uses. It amazed him the equipment survived the blaze. If only everyone else was that lucky…

Before he could put the weapon away, his eyes caught a very familiar piece of equipment. It was one of the body armors. The material was soft to the touch, but capable of taking strong hits to protect the wearer. This particular piece stuck out from the rest, though.

There was a small fist imprint seared into the chest of the armor.

Griffin stared at it for a moment, then picked it up off the rack. After setting the training sword down, he held the armor in both hands and closely examined the fist marking. Training armor was only replaced if completely destroyed, so finding markings like these weren't so surprising.

This mark, however, signified his steps to becoming a stronger fighter. He could still hear the cries of a young Treecko winding up for his first punch…

"Alright, that's the way to do it! Keep it up!" a Hariyama in the clan's green robes encouraged as his young trainees performed practice battles with each other. They wore battle armor for safety reasons, since the goal was to test the limits of their strength. "Remember, you can't just flail your arms! It's all about the technique of the punch! A straight shot with your force!"

Holly and Mack were sparring partners. Due to his lack of hands, the young Bonsly mostly performed headbutts with some kicks incorporated in. Holly, being more agile than, was having her fun by jumping over his attacks and tripping him up. Seeing him get flustered over his failed attempts brought an implied smile to her face as she laughed.

"It's not funny!" Mack growled, stopping his feet angrily. "Just you wait! You'll be sorry!" He charged for her again.

Holly jumped over and struck him in the back of the head. "You're right, I am sorry! This is sad to watch!" She giggled behind her hand.

Mack nearly tripped over himself, then smirked as he used his falling momentum to suddenly pivot on his heel and ram his head into the Fomantis' gut. The force knocked her onto her back. She tried to get up, but Mack pinned her with his feet. She sighed and endured the mockery of his laughter.

After they finished sparring, they watched as Griffin took on a Patrat, who wore yellow robes to signify his Jubilation Anima. Matching his anima, he was quite jittery and gave Griffin a hard time connecting his punches. The Treecko looked visibly annoyed with the speedy rodent.

"Come on, Griffin! Am I too fast for you?!" the Patrat taunted, speeding up behind him and punching him in the back, which was protected by the armor.

Griffin stumbled forward, but kept his ground. He narrowed his eyes and tried to keep his cool. "No, but you definitely have a weak punch. You don't stand a chance against me!"

Patrat smirked and went for a close flurry of punches. Griffin crossed his arms defensively and took the hits. He was waiting for the chipmunk to attack up close. Now was his opportunity for payback, and he developed just the skill to do so.

He caught the Patrat by the wrist, then pulled his fist back. "Exosus…" His fist blazed with red aura, shocking the Patrat and their fellow trainees. "RELEASE!" He slammed his fist into the chipmunk's gut. With explosive force, he was blasted away and crashed through the dirt.

"Time out!" the Hariyama ordered before rushing over to the Patrat to make sure he was alright.

Griffin held up his fist proudly as it cooled down. Everyone stared at him in awe. They were still trying to practice their techniques and haven't come as close to perfecting them like Griffin has. He learned the first basic spell to Hatred Anima.

Hariyama helped Patrat up and patted his head. "Okay, you're good. Just a little bruised." He narrowed his eyes at the smoldering fist burned into the armor. "That's, uh…not going away, however."

Rather than getting angry, the Patrat was also astounded by Griffin's show of improvement. "Dude! That was an awesome punch!" He sped over and hopped in front of Griffin with a wide grin. "You've been training extra hard, haven't you?!"

Griffin couldn't contain the pride in his face. He held his hips and his head up high. "Ha! I have to if I want to be the strongest of the clan! I'll be so strong, no one will ever beat me! I'll be unstoppable!"

Holly crossed her arms and laughed. "Please, I'll be the strongest, not you."

Mack smirked jeeringly. "Get real, girly! You're looking at the strongest right here!"

The kids went into an uproar trying to prove who'll be stronger than who. The Hariyama watched with droopy eyes, but a warm laugh. Not like this was the first-time competitiveness got into them.

Griffin set the armor piece down, then exited the hut. He remembered developing the minor abilities of Hatred Anima back when he was a Treecko. He always impressed his friends with his show of progress. With his father's guidance and the support he received, he wanted to do better than anyone ever could. Strength really did matter to him. That same mentality exists in his adult life now, but for darker reasons.

The Grovyle rubbed the back of his head and sighed. I miss the laughter and games. Someone would beat me, I'd get stronger and beat them. Training was a sport for us. Training was fun, competitive. We never held back, but we never took it seriously. Strict training that was fun for everyone. Our dreams to rise higher than the rest.

He wasn't sure where his feet were taking him next, being so lost in his thoughts. He came back to reality and saw himself stopped in front of a large, circular hut. This was where the five elders of their village conducted meanings and did business with other towns and villages. Since Monsoon Village lived a secluded lifestyle in the forest, along with their past reputation, they needed wise leaders to handle the affairs.

He pressed his hand against the door, somewhat hesitant to go inside. As a child, he wasn't allowed to enter without the permission of the elders or his father. It was silly to think he shouldn't enter an abandon building, but it was a rule embedded into his head.

"Are you going in or just gonna stand there like some weirdo?" Griffin lowered his eyelids, not even bothering to acknowledge the presence of the Dewott behind him. Tony, in typical fashion, smirked cheekily at the Grovyle. "Don't worry, tough guy, the spirits of your village aren't going to haunt you."

"Don't be disrespectful to my elders," Griffin warned bitterly.

Tony sighed and held his hands up. "Alright, alright, I didn't mean to be rude," he apologized sincerely. Even though he and the bounty hunter were at odds with each other, the Dewott had no desire to disrespect his fallen clan. He slid his hands into his pockets. "Still, if you want to go in, no one's stopping you."

Griffin silently accepted his apology before closing his eyes. "I was never allowed to intrude without permission. Old habits, I suppose."

Tony raised his brow. "Given how you are now, I would expect you to follow your elders' rules." He smirked. "In other words, you totally snuck in like a devious, rebellious child would do!"

A short, quiet, but genuine laugh breathed through the Grovyle's lips. "Are you psychic, too?" He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Tony grinned before following. "No, just perceptive! I would've done the same thing!"

Entering the withered hut, the two were greeted to a mostly empty room, with a curved table being the only real item present. If Griffin had to guess, items like pictures and wall decorations were put into storage. Still, the wall behind the table remained the same. Five different symbols each representing the first letter and color of the clans' five anima. Each painted over where the council would sit.

Tony whistled as he looked around. "This place is dusty." He felt the walls and scratched it gently. Some paint chipped off. "And…old. And a little damp. Must have rained a while ago."

Griffin looked around, then caught sight of a spot on the ceiling. The fire had it near blended with the rest of the blackened ceiling, but he recognized the spot with perfect clarity. A spot made to seal off a hole that was once made through it. Once it's made, it was never something that could be unseen.

Tony noticed his staring and looked up. "…yep, that's a ceiling, alright!"

Griffin sighed and pinched between his eyes. "Idiot…I'm looking at the faded spot of the ceiling."

Tony raised his brow at it, only taking a few seconds to pinpoint the spot. "Ah yes…someone had to plaster that drywall stuff for a hole. So?"

"I made that hole."

Tony glanced at him, then smirked. "What did you do?"

Griffin crossed his arms and glared, feeling nostalgic again. "I was a kid. Not some heartless monster. If I'm curious, I explore…"

"Not allowed to come in, he says! Important business, he says!" Griffin mocked with an annoyed tone as he climbed onto the roof of the council's hut. "I'm a grown up, too! I should be helping with the meetings! Dad does it and he's a big goof!"

Helping him accomplish his devious scheme were Holly and Mack. They climbed up after him, though Mack needed some assistance up. "Griffin, maybe you're overthinking things…again," Holly said with an exhausted breath. "Why are you so interested in boring junk like this? They're just going to talk and talk about the economy and food and other boring, grown up nonsense."

Griffin pouted. "But I want to represent the best for the Grim Ash Clan! That means starting early on my responsibilities!"

"And what's more responsible than eavesdropping on conversations that don't concern us?!" Mack cheered sarcastically. He snickered mischievously. "I'm just here because I want to prank the old farts! They can't one up me this time!"

"So, I'm guessing the stink bomb idea backfired?" Holly teased with impish glints in her eyes.

Mack shivered. "That smell haunted me for three whole days…"

Griffin balanced across the roof, making sure none of the other adults could see them, before stopping over what he presumed to be the council table. "Okay, I think this is the spot." He grinned. "I'll show them! I'll help make this village better than ever!"

"There's that unwavering ambition of his again," Holly stated with an exasperated tone, though she said it with amusement.

Griffin pressed his ear against the roof and listened closely for the elders and his father. He could hear their muffled voices and maybe a few words like 'trade' and 'restocking,' but nothing that stood out on its own. Griffin grunted and tried to listen harder. "Dang it…"

Holly and Mack gathered around the Treecko, with the Bonsly stating, "You know, traditionally, we should be playing tag or something, not listening to old guys explaining the state of our resources."

Griffin grumbled, "We can do that later."

Holly chuckled. "Come on, Griff, I know your dad. I don't think he has the greatest interest in this junk either. He just does it because that's a responsibility he was tasked with."

"Yeah, but my dad gets to go on awesome adventures, too."

"I wouldn't call heading to another village to discuss trade 'adventurous,'" Mack stated honestly, "but he does get to fight strong guys."

Griffin narrowed his eyes and pressed his head harder against the roof. "Darn it, still can't get clear sound." He looked around cautiously before ripping out the roof tiles and digging through the roof's interior.

"Griffin!" Holly scolded quietly.

"What? I'll fix it later," he promised as he pulled out pieces of the roof.

Mack snickered and joined in on the destruction. "Yes, yes! This is my kind of fun now!"

Holly facepalmed herself and sighed. "Good grief…just be gentle with the roof. We don't want it-" Their eyes widened as they heard a moaning creak under them. "-break?" They looked at the hole being made and saw they were standing over a weak spot in the roof, which was bending under their weight now that supports were being ripping off.

"I…didn't think this through…" Griffin finally admitted before sinking into the roof and crashing into the hut. Holly and Mack caught themselves on the hole and dangled from the ceiling.

Griffin crashed into a table on his back, scrunching up in pain and clutching the stinging pain in the back of his head. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…" His eyes widened as he felt a group of stares beading down on him. "Oops…" He sat up and smiled awkwardly.

Surrounding him were the five elders: a Watchog in green robes, a Miltank in purple robes, a Sceptile (his grandfather) in red robes, an Arbok in blue robes, and a Poliwrath in yellow robes. Standing across from the elders was Griffin's father, who had his arms crossed with a disapproving glare, but a warm smile that showed he wasn't completely mad about the interruption. Even so, Griffin felt ashamed for his intrusion.

"Um…sorry?" he apologized meekly.

The elderly Sceptile sighed and pinched between his eyes. "Camus…it seems your son wanted to pay us a visit."

Camus picked Griffin up by the head and held him up. "Seems so." He narrowed his eyes at the boy. "Griffin…"

Griffin smiled apologetically. "I…just wanted to see what you were talking about. You know, so I can be a great leader to the village."

This surprised the elders for a moment, then they chuckled lightly. His grandfather sighed before saying, "Griffin, you're still young. Try and stay young for as long as you can."

Griffin pouted. "But I want to be important like you guys!"

His grandfather smiled wearily. "Trust me…childhood is one of the most precious parts of existence. Savor it for as long as you can…you stay young for only so long."

Griffin sighed and let his arms go limp. "Yes sir…"

The old Sceptile nodded approvingly. "However, if you really want to take on some new responsibilities…" Griffin smiled in anticipation. "…you can start by fixing our roof," he finished with a cheeky grin.

Griffin gasped, then looked up at Holly and Mack, who were likely going to be thrown into the same job. All three of them groaned in irritation.

Griffin ran his hand across the elders' table. He closed his eyes in thought. Savor your childhood…I wish I could've. I feel like I lost so much in so little time. I had to grow up fast…now my innocence is but a fleeting memory. He sighed and stepped away from the table.

Tony was searching the room for loose bits that might have been left behind. He saw Griffin leaving the hut. "Got your fill of memory lane, Hothead?"

Griffin, with his hands in his pockets, nodded slowly. "For now…" He left to check out a new part of the village.

Griffin closed his eyes as he walked aimlessly. The distant echoes of the past rang through his ears in a somber tone, masking the cheers and playful cries that truly sang. They were only children when life went to hell. He never asked to be the way he was, it's just how he grew from circumstances. He wondered…if nothing happened, would he have been his old happy-go-lucky self?

The Grovyle sighed. I couldn't imagine myself smiling so much like nothing matters. I was just a dumb kid. He swallowed hard, then groaned. It really is a part of life you have to savor.

Griffin didn't know where explore next, but the excited cries of his Flareon companion gave him an idea. He spotted the old archives of the village, where records of their history and traditions were recorded and stored. He remembered how scholars from other villages would come to read up on the history of the Grim Ash Clan, from the very bad beginnings to their reformation into a much more decent society.

Having no real path, Griffin headed into the archives.

He pushed the door open and took a good look around. Still as it last was, only ashier. High shelves with drawers that contained hundreds of scrolls of information. Bookshelves along the walls with selections of old myths spawned from legend or from the Grim Ash Clans' own history.

He looked around observantly before spotting a neat pile of scrolls on the ground, with the Flareon and Mew that were using them sitting nearby.

Flint was reading through one of the scrolls with fascinated eyes. "Incredible! Proud warriors born within the Grim Ash Clan were some of the strongest warriors in time! They even create the weapons from their greatest blacksmiths with top of the line enchantments to create amazing weapons to compliment their fighting style!"

Gwyn lay on her stomach, kicking her feet in the air, as she read through a book. "Ooh! There's a legend about a Grim Ash Clansmen who cleaved a mountain with his magical pressure! Then he carried the mountain to plug up an active volcano!" Her eyes sparkled with glee. "AH! So cool!"

Griffin rolled his eyes in mild amusement. According to his grandfather, the son of the original user of Sorrow Anima, born with Hatred Anima, heavily exaggerated the feats displayed in that legend. A bit of research into the family history would reveal he actually stopped a spell from a bandit that simulated a volcano, but nowhere near the size or scale of a true volcano. Apparently his ancestor wanted to impress some girls with feats of heroics and they became adapted into a legend that was told to inspire the trainees to get stronger.

Flint looked up from the scroll he was reading and waved Griffin over. "Hey, Griffin! Your clan's history is incredible! It's like you're all trained to be the perfect warriors! Fighting potential, skills, judgment, abilities…"

Griffin looked to the side dryly. Well, I wouldn't say 'good' judgment on my part…

"And your culture is so fascinating as well." He picked up another scroll and unrolled it. "According to this, your clan wears sacred robes as a symbol to the gods after the turning point in your history, specifically in respect to the legendary Sword of Justice. Your clan adopted their sense of justice after realizing the error of their ways and took a more peaceful route to exercising strength and power. These robes were a sign you all achieved faith and peace in your past and took a new direction for the better."

"Woooow~!" Gwyn awed with captivated, sparkling eyes.

Griffin stifled a laugh and turn his back. "I haven't worn those robes in ages. I never really thought much of them other than being my clothes." He frowned. "Heh…it's the little things you have to appreciate, I guess." He scratched the back of his head. "I guess I did appreciate them, even I didn't give it much thought."

Flint smiled at the scroll in his paws. "I've always appreciated history. It shows the building blocks our ancestors took to achieve what we have today. From the Grand Imperium Age to the development of more efficient civilizations to the development of new jobs that benefit off the strange properties of the Mysto region. That's why I want to become an archeologist. I want to know more about the cultures before us. Before magic became integrated into our society and was just a rare occurrence. To understand how we developed as Pokémon."

Griffin stood in silence after Flint spoke, turning his gaze down to his feet. He knew history wasn't for everyone, but he was prideful in his clan. All his fellow clansmen were. This was their home, after all. They were proud to be a family of powerful warriors.

Griffin looked at the books, then bent down when one caught his eye. He held it in his hand and read the title closely. 'Emotion Anima's Greatest Secrets'…

"Ultimate Anima spells?!"

Griffin, Holly, and Mack were in the archives, assigned to learn about one of their ancestors and write a report on them. Just because they were a clan of warriors didn't excuse them from proper education. Griffin's father, Camus, was watching them while reading one of the books in the archive, only to get sucked into a conversation the kids were having.

"What was that, Holly?" Griffin asked.

The Fomantis showed off the book in her hands. "I was reading up on Jethro Darkwing when I read this!" She traced her leafy hand across the text. "It says he defeated a whole swarm of militaristic Pokémon with his Ultimate Anima spell!"

Mack tilted his head. "The heck is an Ultimate Anima spell?! I never heard of that nonsense!"

This caused Camus to chuckle behind his book. He tried to hide it, but the children caught onto him and were now staring suspiciously. "Daaaad…"

Camus waved it off. "No, no, don't mind me. Carry on with your book report."

"Mr. Camus," Holly firmly stated, "do you know anything about this?"

"Answer us, old man!" Mack demanded, stomping on the table.

Camus stifled his laughter as he set his book down. "I really shouldn't. That isn't a lesson you kids will be learning until advanced training into your anima comes around." He then smirked playfully. "Still, who am I to stifle the learning of such bright-eyed pipsqueaks?"

Griffin pouted. "Don't play cute with us. Just spill the beans!"

Camus now couldn't contain his amused laughter, leaning back in his chair. "Fine, fine." Once he had their full attention, he rested his hands over his chest and leaned back. "Now then…where to begin? Hmm…well, you kids know how each of your individual anima work, right?"

Griffin nodded. "Yeah. I use highly offensive magical power, Holly uses illusions, and Mack uses moves that act as support based."

"So?" Holly added.

"And you kids know about our limiters, too?" They nodded. Camus tapped the side of his head. "That limiter is a storage center for all the magic our bodies can't naturally handle in one go, only to adapt to it in time. Our clan's potential is one of the highest in the land for that reason alone. The more power we gather, the stronger we become. However, what happens when you…go over a certain point? Where you've achieved so much power that your body begins to…feel different?"

Holly raised his hand. "You are referring to stage 2 of our limiter, correct?"

"Exactly. All that stored power released at once. Well…depending on how well trained you are, you also get access to a special kind of spell, unique to each anima and is the sole representation of your abilities." He pointed between them. "Absolute offensive power, the ultimate illusion, and becoming a force to be reckoned with. The…Ultimate Anima Spells."

"Wooow…" the kids awed.

"How do we learn them?" Mack asked excitedly.

Camus held his hand up and laughed. "Sorry, kiddo, but that's a no-go as of now. You need to be…ridiculously strong to even handle the backlash of such power. They are spells that use the absolute potential of your anima, especially in stage 2 limit break."

Griffin smirked and cracked his knuckles. "So, all we need to do is get stronger? Easy-peasy!"

Camus rolled his eyes and chuckled. "If only it were that simple…still, if it's a goal you want to achieve, try and strive for it. Trust me, they aren't called the Ultimate Anima Spells for nothing. They're the fullest extent of your abilities."

"Right!" The kids grinned at each other in excitement. They'll learn how to use the Ultimate Anima Spell and they'll be stronger than everyone.

Even now, Griffin was nowhere near close to perfecting that ultimate spell. Train as he might, he still had a long way to go. His father said strength wasn't enough, so perhaps there was more to it. All the scrolls he could find on it just said 'You know when you feel it,' which honestly just sounded like fortune cookie nonsense.

He sighed and slid the book back into the shelf. He looked over his shoulder again as Flint and Gwyn continued to be enthralled about his clan's history. He wasn't sure that much excitement was warranted against a clan that was once formerly power-hungry, but he didn't want to kill their mood.

He left the archives and took his search over to the residential area of the village. He could feel Wes' aura still looting around one of the huts, though…as he drew closer, the hut appeared to be larger than the rest, signifying its importance among the others.

He stopped and stared in stunned silence. This…is MY home.

The ruin state of his childhood home brought a bone chilling shiver to his spine. A lot of damage was done to the hut. He would know, since he nearly witnessed the killings that went on inside. He wasn't sure who died in that house. His parents or someone who came to protect him. Either way, it didn't make stepping in easier.

He was hesitant to go in, but the rummaging of belongings inside persuaded him to. Pushing the door open, he was greeted by the main hall. He scrunched up from the dust in the air, likely kicked up after Wes went inside. The damage to the house was very apparent, from the slash marks against the walls to the broken floorboards. A real struggle took place long ago.

There were no broken valuables out in the open, so they were likely stored away. Griffin held himself as he gingerly stepped through the ruins of his home. He flinched from the echoes of child-like laughter of his younger self. The memories he couldn't forget nor abandon. They were amplified in the presence of his old home.

He tried to block out the sounds, but they rang inside his mind. There was no escaping them. The laughter, slowly and subtly, turned to screams of horror. His eyes widened fearfully as fire sprang up in front of him, engulfing the home in mere seconds. Griffin backed away with quickened breath, nearly tripping over himself.

He looked over his shoulder, then felt his blood freeze in sight of the shadowy, hulking figure in the flames. The creature drew his sword, then pointed it at Griffin.

"Useless…weak…pathetic…you'll never beat me. Your clan will never have their vengeance. You're nothing more than an insignificant insect that will die by my blade. You…will never redeem yourself."

Griffin clutched his head and roared, "Shut up, shut up, SHUT UUUUUPPPPPP!"

"Griffin?"

His eyes widened in alert, a moment of pause coming over. The flames, the figure, the sounds…they were all gone. He was stressing himself out. What he saw was nothing more than his imagination going into full gear. He released his head and lowered his trembling hands before turning towards the Umbreon standing behind him.

He carried a weapon on his back. A broadsword about the double the length of his torso. The shape of the sheathe showed the sword was shaped like a butcher knife. The hilted was bronze in color.

Wes tilted his head in concern. "You okay? You looked like you were in pain."

Griffin breathed slowly, relieved to see the Umbreon instead of…him. That…murderous killer. He pinched between his eyes and tried to get a hold of himself. Had their last encounter left a newfound fear of the man in his subconscious? Or was old childhood trauma resurfacing?

"I'm…better now…" Griffin let out one last anxious breath before narrowing his eyes. "What are you doing in my home?"

"Oh, this is your home? It's, uh…well, I assume it was lovely." He pursed his lips, trying to think of a way to continue this conversation without biting off more than he could chew. Thankfully, the Grovyle kindly offered his assistance.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, pointing at the sword on his back.

"Oh, this?" He reached over and took the weapon in his teeth, handing it over to Griffin. "Found it in the…master bedroom, I think. It was laying in some drawers, so I thought I could show it to you."

Griffin held the weapon in his hands, stunned in awe. "This…" He gripped the hilt tightly. "This…is my father's sword."

Wes' eyes widened. "Really?"

"Y-Yeah…" He narrowed his eyes on the scratches in the scabbard. It wasn't in the best condition, but nothing unusable. "He wielded one of the strongest weapons in our village, Land Shift. I…never thought I'd see it again."

Wes smiled. "A proud symbol of your father's legacy."

Griffin closed his eyes. "…yeah. When a member…of the Grim Ash Clan receives a weapon of their own, it symbolizes a rite of passage into the next step of development. You're either bestowed with a weapon of your own design or inherit your parent's weapon. This belonged to my great-great grandfather. It was passed down until reaching my father. He broke the inheriting tradition when he saw my burning passion to get stronger. He wanted me to start my own legacy…with my own weapon."

"Endless Regret…" Wes stated.

Griffin nodded, then unsheathed the sword, revealing its golden blade. "It was…a proud moment in my life…"

"Griffin Everfall. Please, step forward."

It was the graduating ceremony for junior training. Young members of the Grim Ash Clan sat in their seats as they waited to be officially brought into the course. The Treecko beamed with excitement and jumped from his seat, racing over to where his father and the elders stood.

The elders shook his hand in congratulations, with his grandfather finishing up with, "Camus, present to him the mark of his achievements."

Camus stepped forward and got on one knee before his son. He wore a proud smile on his face. In the crowd of villagers, Ramona, Griffin's mother, also smiled with pride for her son. Despite being brought into the clan through marriage, she knew how important this day was for her baby boy.

Griffin and Camus stared at each other in silence before the Sceptile reached behind his back and unveiled the Treecko's token for his efforts. "Griffin Everfall…my son…I'm honored to bestow onto you the weapon that'll carve your name through history. Care for it as an extension of your being. No sword is greater than the other. Only the wielder can decide that. This weapon…in your hands alone, will become the strongest weapon known to Mysto."

Griffin nodded firmly. "I promise!"

Camus undid the wrappings around it, revealing it in its full glory. A large black blade with a hilt wrapped into white cloth.

"This instrument of power, forged by my hands and enchanted by your mother, has been given the name of 'Endless Regret.' A sword that shall bring difficultly to all who have the misfortune of facing it in battle. Endless Regret is yours to master. In your hands, it's the deadliest weapon of all. Train and perfect yourself with it."

Griffin took the blade in his hands, staggered by its weight. Guess he'll have to evolve soon if he wanted to use it properly. He struggled to get it over his shoulder, but managed to do so. He saluted to his father. "I won't let you down!"

Camus smiled and patted his head. "I know you won't. You'll make a powerful warrior. I just know it."

Griffin stared at Land Shift with nostalgic eyes. "This was the weapon I could have inherited. Now…it's a final memento to my father's legacy." He bowed his head to it. "An extension of his will."

Wes smiled. "You take your weapons very seriously."

"Ever since I began my quest, I treat all the weapons I've collected as an extension of their former masters. I will use them against Voss…so that those fallen warriors will land the finishing blows against their killer. In death, they shall have their vengeance for their dishonorable murders."

Wes grinned wholeheartedly. "Heh…I don't know about this Voss creep…but you've proven yourself as a true warrior in my eyes."

It was rare to see the Grovyle with a smile, but it was one of the most amazing sights to witness when he expressed his gratitude, even if only faintly. "Thank you…" He narrowed his eyes lightly, then started leaving.

"Where are you going?"

Griffin stopped at the door, clutching Land Shift close to his chest. "I need…to visit one more place before I become at peace…" He exited his old home and went his final destination.

The resting place of his people.

A graveyard was made within the village, where the fallen people of the Grim Ash Clan were laid to rest. It was massive in size. An entire graveyard made for one single population of villagers, all who died on the same day.

Griffin kneeled before two graves that were side by side to each other: Camus and Ramona Everfall. He had his head bowed to them while Land Shift lay in front of him. He normally kept calm and composed when praying to the dead, but…it was harder with these graves. He never wanted to pray safe wishes to his parents…he never wanted them to die.

He sighed shakily, but tried to keep up appearances. "Mom…Dad…things have…changed a lot recently. I'm not sure if you know about my activities over the last decade, but…I'm taking a new path alongside my goal." He shook his head. "Funny…being a warrior meant I had dreams of grandeur saving the world. That was all kid stuff, but…not so much anymore.

"A legend lost in myth…that's what I'm looking for, now. A mystical idol that was nothing more than a fairy tale. Guess even fairy tales have some historical context to them." He narrowed his eyes for a moment, thinking deeply, then closed them. "I'm getting myself into a mess that isn't my concern…it wasn't supposed to be. Maybe it doesn't have to.

"But that'd make me a disgrace to the Grim Ash Clan if I backed down from a fight. You taught me to never back down, Dad. And Mom…you're the one who taught me to stay true to myself. Always be there to save lives." Griffin opened his eyes and looked at his hands. "No matter how many times I wash them, my hands will have sinful blood stained on them. For this, I don't regret. I did what I had to do. Now…I'm on an impossible quest that'll risk my very life.

"If you could spare a cup of advice, do you think I should…try and start things over…when this is all said and done?"

The graves, obviously, didn't respond. Yet, to Griffin, he could feel their responses close to his heart. He knew his parents well. If they were here as spirits or not, he didn't need to hear them to know what they'll say.

Griffin nodded. "Thank you…" He picked up Land Shift and held it up to his father's grave. "A weapon passed down through our family line…I shall carry this in your honor, Dad. For the honor of the village. I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to wield Land Shift's power…but it's as you said: no sword is greater than the other. Only the wielder can decide that." He bowed to their graves.

He didn't acknowledge it, but he could feel the presence of his teammates standing nearby with reasonable distance, just to give him his privacy. They had warm smiles on their faces. They could tell newfound peace was made within the Grovyle. Now he had a personal goal in mind to avenge his clan, deeper than ever before.

Griffin stood up, then deposited Land Shift into his personal arsenal. He turned and walked away from the graves with his eyes closed. He walked past the others, saying, "Let's go before it gets dark."

They nodded and proceeded to follow. Gwyn, however, lagged behind and looked back at the barren land. She frowned a bit before beaming with an idea popping into her head.

Griffin kept his attention on the path until he felt the surge of nature magic behind him. He heard the others gasp, forcing him to look at the commotion. His eyes widened at the sight of lush flora sprouting around the graves and tombstones, decorating them in an assortment of beautiful flowers. It gave the graveyard…a bit of life.

Gwyn took her hand off the ground and smiled brightly at the Grovyle. "It was…looking a little too dreary, personally. I hope you don't mind. I thought it would be a nice sentiment to leave them off on."

Griffin was in awe by her act of kindness. The flowers were rearranged so elegantly around the tombstones. It was a gracious show of respect to his clan.

He looked away and held a hand over his eyes. "It's…nice. Thanks." The group blinked. They could have sworn they saw a tear dripping down his cheek…and a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "We don't have all day. Tempest Valley is a long ways away." He started walking again, leading the group to follow after him.

Flint walked up to his side. "So…I take it you didn't totally hate coming back here?"

Griffin rubbed his eyes, then hid his hands inside his jacket pockets. "It was a necessary visit. I couldn't avoid my past forever." He closed his eyes. "And…it helped me realized a new goal I want to achieve…when this is all over."

"What's that?" Tony asked.

Griffin looked ahead with hopeful eyes. "Perhaps…when I get my revenge…I'll settle down and rebuild Monsoon Village. Rebuild the Grim Ash Clan from the ground up. I wasn't completely sure at first, but…now I know that's what I want."

Gwyn clasped her hands together and awed, "That's so sweet!"

Ella smirked. "Didn't you tell me that would require you finding a mate or something?"

"I didn't say now. I've still got years left before I even think of that." He glared. "My main focus is helping you all and killing Voss…that's all that matters to me as of now." His expression softened. "But I don't want to lose sight of the home that raised me. I will rebuild my home."

Wes smiled proudly at him. "Well, when we get through this, you have our full support! We'll do everything we can to help rebuild your home!" The others nodded in agreement.

Griffin didn't face them. He lowered his head, then smiled softly. "Heh…that would…be appreciated." He looked back at him home as they put distance between them. Somehow…he could feel everyone's presence in the village, like nothing ever happened. It was foolish to dream for it all to go away, but letting the memories become tainted with hopelessness would be a disrespect to his clan. He'll see to it that their legacy doesn't die with them.

"…thank you."