Ch.121: Much Needed R&R! Insight Toward the Approaching Swamp Zone!

Wes let out a big yawn as he stumbled through the connected caravan carts, trying to locate the kitchen area. He bumped through the circus performers, muttering quiet apologies with the craving for coffee on the mind.

Two weeks of travel from Gelid Peak can leave anyone drained, especially after being cooped up inside for so long. Wes was so used to walking that he was becoming lethargic. He could barely walk without tipping over. He felt refreshed, but now everything demanded the sweet comforts of blankets.

He eventually found his way to the kitchen area where a few performers were preparing breakfast. It often baffled Wes to think they could afford to feed so many people in a caravan. The circus made more money than he thought.

Found a backup career for myself. Wes yawned again and bumped into the counter as he reached for the coffeemaker. "So tired…" He slumped over and faceplanted with the floor.

A Durant crawled out from behind Wes, scuttled up the counter, and started up the coffeemaker. A moment later, he came back down and set a mug of fresh coffee beside the Umbreon. Wes sniffed the mug a couple times before grabbing and lightly sipping it.

He could feel the caffeine working its magic. "Ah, sweet relief~!" Wes gushed.

"You're welcome." Wes turned his head and saw the Durant munching on a bagel.

"Oh, hello. You're…Wally, right?"

"Wallace. Costume designer."

"Thanks a lot."

Wallace chuckled. "Getting too comfort here?"

Wes sat up and chuckled back. "I'm often training to keep my physique up. I've been abusing my relaxation time a bit too much."

"I wouldn't recommend training on the roof, but you could probably do some exercises in the prop room. We keep basically all our equipment in there, so it can handle a little roughhousing."

"I'll remember that, thanks." Wes sipped his coffee and sighed. "Oh yeah, have you seen my friends?"

Wallace shrugged. "Can't say I have. I tend to mind my own business. Though, your Mew friend to come by asking for…a favor," he mumbled.

Wes blinked. "Huh?"

"Err…I don't ask questions, I just make costumes. Your girlfriend might be with Ava doing psychic training."

Wes blushed and looked aside. "Um…I mean, we're…technically not dating."

Wallace deadpanned. "My mistake. Didn't realize kids these days got risqué with their friends." He chuckled and scuttled off, leaving Wes in a stuttering mess.

"W-Where did you hear that?!"

"We're a family of eavesdroppers. Secrets don't exactly last long on this ride." Wes flinched as the door shut behind the Durant. The poor Umbreon groaned and faceplanted with the floor again.

"Dear Arceus, strike me down and end my suffering…"

"…And then they're going to let me do the tightrope again, but this time while juggling flaming bowling pins!" Cheri gleefully explained to her brother as she balanced atop some crate with a bowling pin balancing on her nose. "Pretty neat, huh?"

Tony wasn't amused. "Cheri, for the seventh time, I don't approve of you walking over a tightrope. Especially when it involves fire!"

Angel chuckled awkwardly. "Sweetie, your sister has taken an interest in something. Let her have fun."

"How are you not freaking out over this?"

"Oh Tony, I'm a mother, remember?" She chuckled to herself for a moment, then laughed with a wretched nervousness. "I'm always freaking out over you two…"

Tony sighed and rubbed his face. "Why flaming bowling pins?"

Cheri beamed. "Relax! Remember, the illusion of danger! My costume is completely fireproof. Nothing's getting in or out."

Tony groaned. "You better not actually join the circus."

"Why not? Do you hate our new friends?"

"It's not because of the profession…well, sort of." Tony growled at himself and rubbed his head. "Look, I would just feel a tad better if you pursued something less…comical. I'm trying really hard to set up a good future for you."

"But the circus could be my future!" she reminded with a hinting tone.

"It's a lot of hard work."

"Fine by me!"

"Nonstop traveling on the road."

"That's a bad thing? HA!"

"You might get booed at constantly."

"Pfft! Anyone who would doesn't understand comedy! Screw them!"

Tony sighed in defeat. "Never mind."

Angel patted his back. "She's just enjoying herself. She doesn't actually want to join the circus."

"Says you! Wee!" Cheri cartwheeled off the crate, but misjudged her jump and crashed head first into a pile of props. "AH! Tony, I'm sinking!"

Tony smirked and stood up. "Illusion of danger, sis. You'll be fine."

"That's not funny!" she yelled, flailing her feet.

Tony whistled and waltzed out the room. "I'm going to hang with Pops. Good luck with your routine, Cheri. Make sure it doesn't sink."

"That's also not funny, Tony!"

Angel covered her mouth and stifled a giggle. "Don't you mean-"

"Don't you dare say-!"

"-punny?"

"…You know what? Let me sink to my demise."

After finishing his coffee and getting dressed, Wes decided to explore around the caravan for a bit. They were still in the colder climates of the Snow Zone, but it wouldn't be long before the crossed the borders to the Swamp Zone. The muggy, hot air won't do wonders for his fur, but all worth it to get the next key.

Well, maybe for him. He imagined Ella would have her complaints.

Wes chuckled. "Heh. I can hear her now. 'Ugh! This darn humidity is messing up my divine beauty! How can someone as attractive, amazing, gorgeous, stunning-'"

"Keep piling on the adjectives, Lover Boy." Wes gasped and tripped onto his face. He groaned dizzily as Nebula slid past him. "Someone's clearly got an Espeon on his mind."

Wes sat up and shook his head clear. "H-Hehehe, whaaaaat?" He scratched behind his head, grinning awkwardly. "N-No way, not at all."

Nebula smirked. "You're happy. Don't hide it. Well, you are happy, right?"

"Um…maybe?" Wes tapped his digits together awkwardly. "Um…you're not hear to harass me about that…rumor going around, right?"

Nebula chuckled. "I do enjoy some gossip from time to time, but I think you've been tortured enough after the ridicule you endured a couple weeks ago."

"Heh…y-yeah." The memory was still fresh in his head. The judgmental stares he got from Griffin and Ava, the confusion written over Gwyn's face, the disappointment from Holly, and the endless chortles of Mack and Tony who only stopped when they passed out from lightheadedness. Flint, you are going to regret leaving me hanging like that!

Nebula patted him on the back. "Hey, you got a good thing with your friend, so I wouldn't let it get to you. At least you're not avoiding each other, right?"

Wes scratched his ear. "I suppose you've got a point. We…don't try and bring it up, and dating's still on the fence…"

"Casual affection between two people who aren't dating?" Nebula summed up with a smirk.

Wes blushed. "Uh…"

"Or, should I say, friends with benefits?"

Wes blushed brighter and, frantically shaking his forelegs, shouted, "For the last time, we only made out on the bed! Nothing else!"

Nebula laughed. "Is that right?"

"You said you weren't going to ridicule me!"

"Yeah, originally."

Wes groaned and marched ahead. "I'm going to find somewhere to train…"

Nebula let out the last of her laughs and held her hip. "Actually, that's why I'm here."

Wes stopped and looked back at the Brionne suspiciously. "Excuse me?"

Nebula smirked. "Wallace actually came by and mentioned how you were looking for somewhere to train. Well, the roofs are free, if you don't mind the wind chills, at least."

Wes raised his brow. "Wallace told me the roofs wouldn't be a great place to train."

Nebula chuckled. "Wallace doesn't have magic. I do." She flicked her flipper and revealed a ridiculously assortment of knives. "I'm not a fighter by trade, but I can hit a moving target without a problem. I wouldn't mind getting some knife throwing practice in."

Wes blinked, then deadpanned. "Did you seek me out just to have a live moving target?"

"Is that a no, then?"

"…" Wes looked around for a second, then sighed. "Welp, I'm bored, so…" He clapped his paws and exclaimed, "To the roof!"

"You think you've bested me, Griffin Everfall? Prepare to face the instrument of your demise!" Faye slammed her hand down on the table with a card. "No-Way-Back Tavern! I can force your entire party to target anyone on my side of the field until they're destroyed! And you won't get far against my Immovable Giant Hound!" She slammed another card down. "Beat that!"

With the rumbling of the connected cars lightly shaking the room, the bounty hunters decided to ease their boredom with a friendly game of Mythic Heart with Faye. Of course, as the Sliggoo made clear many times before, friendly games turned bad really quick.

Griffin leaned back in his seat, looking over his current hand while smirking at the self-confident Sliggoo. "With confidence like that, you could make a living as a bounty hunter. However, I find your lack of caution pitiful." He pulled a card from his hand. "I play Battle Mage Warrior." He set the card down.

Faye smirked. "Ha! What are you going to do with that? My monster can easily withstand your warrior's attacks!"

Griffin chuckled and pulled another card out. "You made one big mistake before we even started: you taught me how to play." He flicked the card down. "Back Entrance Disposal. I remove the next three cards from my deck to the graveyard and attack your HP directly."

"What?!" Faye exclaimed. "That card wasn't in your deck!"

Griffin smirked. "You rigged my deck, then? You were the one who gave me these cards."

Faye gasped, clearly offended. "N-No! I just don't have a second one of those! The other one's in MY deck!"

Griffin waved his cards around. "I may have done a little sightseeing around Gelid Peak and got that card in a pack. Lucky me, right?"

"You bought a pack behind my back?!" Faye stared speechless at the Grovyle, then reeled back with tears of joy. "Oh my Arceus, I've turned you into a Mythic Heart fan! I'm so proud!"

Meanwhile, off to the other side of the table were Mack and Holly, both out of the game after being utterly destroyed by Faye and Griffin. Mack sucked on a bottle of gin while Holly leaned on the table, gleefully watching the two banter. "I never thought I'd see the day Griffin would become a Mythic Heart fanboy."

"I never thought I'd see the day he'd take up a hobby that doesn't relate to murder," Mack joked.

Faye leaned forward, beaming at Griffin. "What other cards did you get? Show me, show me, show me!"

Griffin pressed his finger to her lips and pushed her back into her seat. "A true warrior should never reveal their hand to the enemy. Information is key to victory."

"Aww, come on! Please!" She scooched over and nestled under his chin with a big grin. "I'll be your best friend!"

"I already have Holly and the drunk idiot filling in for that."

"How dare you!" Mack shouted, swinging his bottle around. "I'm a drunk knucklehead at worst!" He leaned back for a big sip and fell out of his chair.

"Please!" Faye begged, shaking the Grovyle by his jacket. "I want to see!"

Griffin pushed her off. "Beat me in a new match and I'll comply."

Faye grinned. "A challenge? You will regret this wager, Everfall!" Her stomach let out a mighty growl. "…And I'll regret everything else if I don't get breakfast." She pushed herself from her chair. "Anyone like pancakes?"

"Love them!" Mack exclaimed.

"I'll make us a few stacks, then I'll crush you in our match, Everfall!" She locked eyes with him as she slowly backed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

Griffin rolled his eyes. "And the student has become the master." He picked up his cards and took a brief look through them before shuffling.

Holly chuckled. "Don't get a big head, Griffin. She bested you twelve times while you only have a measly three wins under your belt."

"At least I got one!" Mack exclaimed, laughing out loud.

Holly sighed. "No wonder Faye said the Drunken Exploding Goblin was banned from competitive use. How did you get the right set up of cards to wipe out all our monsters and leave us wide open?"

Mack snickered. "The mind is clear when the master is drunk off his ass."

Holly pressed her claws to her face and sighed. "You are an anomaly, Mack."

"How thoughtful of you."

Holly rolled her eyes, then chuckled at Griffin. "It's nice to see you making a friend. You two are getting along well."

Griffin flipped through his deck, saying, "I suppose our relations have improved with repeated interaction. I must admit, her fiery nature is quite amusing when in competitive settings."

"Now if only she would get a clue that no woman for miles would ever date you!" Mack threw his head back and howled with laughter. Holly flicked him in the forehead, knocking him right out of his chair. "Agh! Not again!"

Holly sighed. "Well, we're happy for you. Ever since you went off with Wes and his friends, you've seemed…calmer. Nicer, even."

Griffin glared. "Was I really that bad?"

"You were always brooding about hunting down Voss. You never had time to relax or do stuff like this. It's a nice change. I haven't seen this side of you in years. I'm glad to see the childhood friend I've come to know after so many years."

Griffin narrowed his eyes, then set his deck down. "My one and only end goal is to restore the Grim Ash Clan. I shouldn't have thoughts of revenge clouding my judgment." He raised his fist and lightly clenched his fingers. "I swear to kill Voss one of these days, but…now, it doesn't feel as weighty as before. I do feel more at peace with myself."

Holly closed her eyes happily. "I had hope for that. Don't worry, we will fix up the village one of these days. That'll take time, of course."

Mack stood and propped his chair back up. "Couldn't the Idol of Origin do something about that?"

"Possibly," Griffin muttered, "but I'm hesitant to ever use its power. After Ms. Shadestar's history with that accursed item, I fear I would easily succumb to its temptations. It'd be all too easy to banish Voss from the world and restore our clan, but would I be willing to stop after tasting such power?"

Mack shrugged. "You don't give yourself enough credit. You should be worried if I got my hands on that thing. Do you know how much booze I can make for myself with the power of the gods?" He tapped his chin. "Hmm…does infinite sound right?"

Holly shook her head. "Regardless of it all, don't obsess too much over the future. We've still got a way to go before we reach the Swamp Zone, so try to ease your mind."

Griffin nodded. "Of course." He turned back to his deck and shuffled through it mindlessly.

Mack had a sudden thought and smirked deviously. "You know, now that I think about it, you and Faye have been awfully chummy with each other."

"I suppose?" Griffin mumbled, not sure what he was asserting.

"Since she's going out of her way to get you a girlfriend, maybe you should turn your sights onto someone else instead." Mack snickered. "After all, you two are enjoying each other's company."

Griffin blinked twice, then sighed. "Good grief, Mack."

"What? You know I'm right! Come on, you said yourself you'll need a partner one day, so why not let it be her?"

"I don't have romantic interest in Faye," Griffin answered, setting his cards down. "There's nothing more to it."

"You've been going up to random women and asking them to marry you with that scary deadpan face of yours. Suddenly you have standards for asking out a woman?" Mack grinned childishly. "Or maybe you're afraid you'll scare her off-"

BAM!

Griffin massaged his fist while Mack's face was buried into the floorboards with a large bump on the back of his head. Holly sighed, then chuckled to herself. "You got to admit, she wouldn't be the worst choice for a potential partner. She actually doesn't mind your company."

"What's your point?"

Holly tilted her head and said, "What's stopping you from at least asking?"

Griffin blinked, then turned his head away. "I rather not with Faye."

"Hmm?"

"Despite finding a long forgotten peace within myself, my desire to slay Voss burns brighter than ever." He glared. "A mission like that means death. When it came to asking a stranger, I felt no personal attachment. It's no different to arranged marriages. Often the two spouses won't feel anything for each other. Asking Faye is setting up for failure. I don't want her to have feelings for me if anything bad happened to me."

Holly blinked in surprise. "Is that so?"

"Don't pretend I never considered the option. Having gotten to know her, she would make an adequate partner."

Holly narrowed her eyes. "And you're worried if you asked, she'll fall in love with you, then be heartbroken."

Griffin closed his eyes. "Having personal attachments like love hinder you. Commitments like that, whether of alliance or love, can hinder my effectiveness in battle. In the heat of the moment, logic and reason don't dictate my actions, but pure emotion." He clenched his fist. "My own anger is a hinderance if applied incorrectly. That's why I don't want to get Faye involved."

"…You don't love Faye, do you?"

"…I have no personal attachments to her."

Holly took a deep breath and sighed. "You're a noble guy, Griffin. I don't blame you for locking your emotions away. Still, assuming things were different, what would you say your feelings for Faye were?"

Griffin narrowed his eyes down on the table. His fingers dug into the edge. "I…I-"

"Hey, hey, hey!" The door flew open and Faye came sliding in with a plate of pancakes. "Guess who has a fresh batch of delicious flapjacks?"

"Pancakes!" Mack exclaimed, rising back into his seat.

Faye threw out some plates and set the pancakes down in the middle. "Eat up! Hope you don't mind blueberry!"

"Not at all." Holly took a few and set them in front of her. She sighed indignantly as Mack shoveled them into his mouth. "Are you chewing or inhaling them?"

"Oh shup up!" Mack hammered them down his throat, then wash them down with some gin.

Faye passed a few pancakes over to Griffin and smiled. "Hope you enjoy. After all, friends make sure friends are happy, right?"

Griffin raised his brow. "Yeah?" He grabbed the provided fork and knife and took a piece off. After swallowing a bite, he said, "This is delicious."

Faye beamed. "Thanks." She then slammed her deck onto the table. "Now tell me your secrets and spare yourself of a humiliating defeat!"

Griffin swallowed, smirked, then picked up his deck. "Challenge accepted."

Despite the limited space of the caravans, everyone could find something to occupy themselves with the long ride. It eased the growing boredom that accumulates being cramped inside colorful boxcars. So was the life of the circus where a boring morning could be used either constructively or for entertainment.

Flint didn't have such luxury.

As per Morgan's explicit orders, Flint had to rest his leg for the duration of the ride as to not accidentally aggravate the healing process from the bumpy roads ahead. With this came an eternity of boredom that was clawing at the last of his patience.

He had occupied himself with books, but the moving cars quickly made him motion sick and forced him to put the book away. Sleeping was a commodity best earned at the resting hours of night rather than the morning sunrise and coming sunset, otherwise succumbing to slumber was once again thwarted by the bumpy roads. He eventually went to counting every object in the room.

That grew tedious after the first five times.

Now that Vince had them back on the road, Flint couldn't return to his slumber. He rolled around onto his side and tried once again to lull himself to sleep. His frustration was irking his patience. If Morgan would just let me use the wheelchair, I would be fine. I'm not going to accidentally roll around the cars and ram my foot into a wall.

Flint took a deep breath and flared his nostrils. Your leg will be healed soon. It might not move the same, but I would at least be able to walk. He sighed, then lifted his paw. It's a miracle I'm still alive. I thought for sure Z-Zaros…Zaros almost k-killed me.

He flinched at the vision of the Watchog's haunting gaze. He shook his head and pulled a pillow over his face. "Get a grip, Flint. You're fine. Zaros isn't here."

"Hehehe…pathetic Flareon."

Flint's eyes widened. Faster than he could think, his Guardian came out and punched towards the voice. Flint threw his pillow off, hyperventilating. His heart wretched as he stared back at the ringed eyes sneering at him with a smug, mighty grin.

However, what stood before him was not the Watchog, but merely an illusion. The Guardian's fist pierced through the mirage's chest and dented the wall. It pulled away and let the illusion fade.

Flint panted to calm himself down, then quickly reached for a reflective object. He lucked out with a hand mirror under his bed and immediately checked his eyes. They had a faint glow to them that faded. He used illusion magic by mistake.

Flint set the mirror aside and touched his forehead while calming his rapid breathing. "My magic's acting up. My emotions are making me conjure things." He gritted his teeth and shook his head. "What is wrong with me? Why is this bothering me so much?" He gripped his head and bent forward, exhaling heavy breaths with plumes of smoke.

In his mild panic, his mane crackled with orange energy, spiking it up a bit. The brief shock caught his attention as he watched the sparks fly off and cease a second after.

He ran his paw through his main, his panic now fleeting in favor of curiosity. "This is…the same feeling I felt when Zaros was beating me up. This strange aura…it's the reason I was able to stay alive. Without it, I wouldn't have been able to hold onto life for as long as I did." He narrowed his eyes. "Some sort of spell? But I never learned a spell like this. Where did it come from? And why did it appear when I needed it the most?"

Just as he tried to summon the aura again, he heard the door creak open, followed by an angelic, "Flinty~! Guess who!"

A warm smiled crossed the Flareon's face. If there was one thing that cured his boredom, it was the owner of that lovely voice that captured his heart. He could spend hours hanging out with Gwyn and never feel a modicum of dullness. He was glad to have her here.

He'll have to worry about that weird spell some other time.

After quickly smoothing back his hair, he turned and smiled at the Mew. "Good morning, Gwyn. How did you…you…?" The Flareon's ears drooped while a huge blush crossed over his face. "Wha…WHAT THE-!"

Gwyn appeared by his bedside with a cheery smile on her face, along with a rather unique attire. By unique, Flint meant a nurse outfit complete with the typical hat and white uniform. What really caught his eye (and he so desperately tried to avoid staring) was the short skirt that went halfway down her thighs.

Tail wagging happily, Gwyn exclaimed, "Surprise! Nurse Gwyn, reporting for duty!"

"G-Gwyn?!" Flint screamed, covering his face upon detecting a sudden metallic scent in his nose. "W-Why are you wearing that?! Actually, w-where did you get that?!"

Gwyn giggled. "Well, funny story, actually. You know how Dr. Morgan assigned me to be your personal nurse over the last couple weeks?"

"You took that literally?!" Flint shouted, again trying to keep eye contact.

"And that's the funny part. I was talking to Ella last week and she mentioned some ways I could really make you feel comfortable. If I dress the part, you won't feel like you're in a cramped boxcar. So, I asked the costume guy if he had any spare outfits laying around." She tapped her chin. "Of course, I think I caught Ella mumbling something under her breath. Something about 'coming in at a terrible time,' I think."

Ella, you conniving matchmaker, I swear…! Flint took a deep breath and exhaled. "Gwyn, sweetie…do you have any idea why Ella might have suggested that?"

Gwyn shrugged. "To look cute?"

"…Something like that." Flint sighed and fell back onto his pillow. "I'm living every teenager's fantasy…"

Gwyn giggled. "So, you think I look cute?" She posed cutely.

Flint smiled a bit. Admittedly, it's easier to tolerate when she does that. Still, rather not take my chances, especially since Gwyn doesn't exercise modesty too much. Flint rubbed his forehead. "Sorry for shouting, I'm just tired."

Gwyn felt his forehead. "You do feel warmer than normal. Luckily for you, I'm here to tend to your every need." She kissed his forehead. "Have you taken your medicine?"

"Not yet."

Gwyn snatched the bottle off the nightstand with her tail while grabbing a canteen. "Open up please." Flint obeyed and let her drop the pill inside his mouth, followed by a steady stream of water. After Flint swallowed, Gwyn asked, "And I have a few more things to help you out." She pulled out her bag and dug inside.

"What is it?" Flint asked.

"A special brew of tea just for you. The leaves I used should make you relaxed and comfortable. Really good for people who are stressed or have insomnia." She pulled a thermos out and handed it to him.

"Aww, Gwyn, thank you."

Gwyn held her cheeks, beaming brightly. "Hee!" She reached inside her bag again and pulled out a bag of nuts. "Freshly grown walnuts with a little experimentation done by me. The insides are really tasty and will help keep your strength up. Wouldn't want you walking slower, right?"

Flint chuckled and took the bag. "Of course not. Gwyn, you really are the best."

"Aww! Just looking out for my fluffy bookworm!" Gwyn pulled one last item out: a metal dish with a cover. "And finally, homemade soup that'll speed up your healing process. It won't fix your leg, but it'll at least make it bearable to walk on." Gwyn frowned. "Sorry I don't have a potion to make your leg better. If I had a recipe, I would dedicate months to crafting it if I had to."

Flint smiled and touched her shoulder. "You being here and helping me along is the only medicine I need."

"AWW!" Gwyn gushed. "That deserves some nuzzles!" She nuzzled into his neck, sending a pleasant warmth through Flint's body.

"Hehe," Flint laughed giddily. "Alright, alright, that's enough." He rubbed his paws together. "I want to see this homemade soup." He beamed as Gwyn removed the cover. "Knowing you, it's probably-" He paled in immediate horror. "-d-d-delicious?"

What the Mew presented to him was not soup, or even carried the edible, enticing qualities of soup. Instead, he got a viscous, bubbly, purple slop closer to gelatin. The rancid aroma it permeated assaulted his nose and likely burned off some nose hairs.

Is this homemade soup or homemade poison? Flint covered his mouth, actually physically gagging at the stench.

Gwyn, meanwhile, was completely unbothered by the smell. "Made it myself. This'll get you back into shape in no time."

"I-Is that a fact?" Flint gulped and carefully took the dish. "M-My, this is…quite an interesting dish."

"Here's a spoon. Careful, jiggling it too much will lose the viscosity." She handed him the spoon.

Flint clenched it inside his paw, staring fearfully at the glop and mentally preparing his will. After casting the Mew a forced grin, he scooped up a spoonful and hesitantly guided it into his mouth. The viscosity vanished upon closing his teeth around the spoon, splashing the taste over his tongue. His face scrunched up while his stomach churned. He forced back the urge to vomit and swallowed the gunk down.

He spat the spoon out, panting, then smiled uneasily at Gwyn. "M-Mmm, that was…absolutely delicious. Hehehe…"

Gwyn tilted her head. "Really? Yeesh, you've got weird taste buds. Whenever my mom fed me that, I felt like I was dying." Flint's eyes widened as the Mew turned her back and laughed. "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always been super strong, Flinty. A little bitter taste like that would never take you down!"

Amidst the praise, Flint immediately grabbed a trashcan by his bedside and hurled into it. Once Gwyn turned back around, Flint pushed the can away and forced a smile. "Hehe, so…your mom made this for you?"

Gwyn nodded. "You betcha! It wasn't the most pleasant dish in the world, but it did wonders. Cleared me of a stomachache I had and helped me grow into the Mew I am today."

"Heh…oh, it's…supposed to taste like this?" Flint laughed nervously as a bubble popped off the surface and assaulted his wailing nostrils. "A-And smell?"

Gwyn nodded. "That's the Belladonna Get-Well-Soon Disaster Soup! Actually, my grandmother was the first to make it. Never met her since she passed away before I was born, but my mom always talked about how she was a wizard in the kitchen." Gwyn patted Flint's head. "And now you get to eat it! Trust me, in a few years, you'll feel like a new Flareon!"

Or a fresh corpse for the ground. Flint gulped. "I have to…eat all of this?"

"Yep! But that's alright since you like it so much!"

He was smiling, but the tears running down his eyes told her everything. "Yay…"

Gwyn smirked. "You know, it's easier to plug your nose and eat it. Eliminate the smell, the taste becomes almost nonexistent."

Flint blinked, then chuckled awkwardly. "Busted. I…didn't want to say anything about you being a terrible cook."

"Aww, it's fine." She rubbed his head. "I'm not that oblivious. Anyway, if you don't need anything else, I'll go whip up some actual soup for…you…" She turned her eyes off him and spotted the dent in the wall. "Huh?" She walked over to it while Flint tried to force another spoonful into his mouth.

Gwyn crouched and ran her hand across the dent. The mark was almost square shaped, like someone punched it with their bare fist. Flint would've mentioned something about someone coming in and punching the wall, so that must mean…

"Flint?"

"Y-Yeah?" Flint replied, gagging on the aftertaste of the soup.

"Where did this dent come from?"

Flint gasped and dropped his spoon. "Uh…what dent?"

Gwyn glared. "Flint, this dent was clearly made by your Guardian." In those rare times Gwyn started sounding serious, it sent uncomfortable chills through Flint. "Why did you punch the wall?"

"Um…" Flint tapped his digits together. "No…No reason."

"Hmm…" Gwyn stood up and dusted her skirt off. "You've been acting weird."

"Huh?"

"Ella told me how you didn't stop Malcolm from escaping with Wes' bag. I know you better than that. You could've easily stopped him with your Guardian." She held her hips. "On top of that, you've been acting…rather distant whenever someone brings up what happened. You twitch a little whenever someone says 'Zaros.'"

Right on cue, Flint involuntarily clenched up. D-Dang it.

"There it is." Gwyn crouched beside the bed and touched Flint's cheek. "Flint, is there something wrong?"

"I…everything's fine, Gwyn. You don't have to worry about anything. I've moved on from it."

Gwyn frowned. "Morgan said it was a miracle you were still alive, and I think you know he's right."

"I…I…"

"Flint, you've told Wes time and time again that family and friends shouldn't hold back how they're feeling when they're stressed. You should learn to practice what you teach."

Flint's ears drooped. "Gwyn…" He turned away despondently.

Gwyn sighed and stood up. "Alright, have your secrets. You clearly have this under control." She walked to the door and grabbed the knob. "I'll be back to give you your lunch. Try and get some rest."

Flint bit his lip, saddened to not hear the usual joy she carried in her tone of voice. "G-Gwyn, wait, I-" As soon as he turned, Gwyn had already left. Flint closed his eyes and fell back onto his pillow. He slapped his forehead and sighed. "Idiot…"

Wes adjusted his newly acquired parka as he followed Nebula onto the moving boxcars. He bared his teeth against the bitter cold rushing into his face, freezing the fine tips of his fur. He dug his claws down into the roof. "Y-You sure this is a good idea?"

"Give me a second." Nebula blew a bubble and held it between her flippers. "Alright, haven't used this in a while, but…" She channeled her magic into the bubble, then splashed it down on the roof. A pink energy cascaded across the boxcar.

Instantly, Wes felt himself become still against the wind. He opened his eyes and marveled at the rushing winds flying around the entire boxcar like they were protected under an invisible dome. He looked down at the roof covered in the Brionne's magic.

"Whoa."

Nebula bounced a bubble in her flipper. "Area Denial: Imprisoned Arena. I denied any other space from entering this section of moving space. Aside from the air we need, nothing can get in or out without my say."

"Right, I forgot you learned Spatial Magic." Wes grinned. "That's pretty sick."

Nebula chuckled. "I'm no master like your famous father, but I've learned enough to enhance the performance of my shows."

"So, you don't fight?"

"Not really. Only time I do get into a fight is for self-defense." Nebula flicked out some knives. "Not to sound arrogant, but you battle-hardened types could learn a thing or two about performance. There are things you can't learn on the stage just as you can't learn on the battlefield."

"So, why go to the trouble of training me?" Wes asked.

"Like I said, it's good to get some knife throwing practice in from time to time." She smirked. "Hopefully your aura can block some knives, because I'm not going easy on you."

Wes blinked, then smirked back. "Alright then." He adjusted his hat and crouched down. "Thrill me."

"Words you shouldn't say to a circus performer." Nebula flickered her flipper and threw out ten to twenty knives.

Wes bounced into the air with Warp Pad and rocketed around the denied space. Nebula pulled dozens of knives from under her sleeves and tossed them after the Umbreon. Wes dodged them all, but the denied space repelled the knives and sent them flying around with very little loss of speed.

"Ah shit!" Wes torqued his body and narrowly dodged seven knives before landing back on the boxcar.

Nebula winked. "Not as easy as it looks, huh? I haven't even started to have fun yet." She sprayed bubbles onto the roof in a thick sheet of suds.

The knives hit the roof and literally sank into the bubble film. Wes landed on the sheet, but didn't sink in with the bubbles. "Wait, is this…?" His eyes widened as the sheet rose off the roof in a cluster of newly shaped bubbles.

"You saw this act when Madame Ava found you in Spring Wells City. My dazzling knife performance where only the most daring can overcome." She twirled on her back flippers and bowed. "Prepare for a dazzling performance my yours truly."

Wes' eyes widened at the sight of blades poking out from the bubbles. "Septem Gladii Virtutis!"

The knives propelled from the bubbles, all aimed at Wes. He summoned his seven sword constructs and orbited them around himself like a buzz saw. Knives went scattering through the air and ricocheting back into the field of bubbles. One flew in, another came flying out from a different bubble. They were moving too fast for Wes to read any discernable pattern.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Wes cried.

Nebula chuckled behind her flipper. "There is a way to get through it, you know. I've performed this very act for hours. I can dance through these knives with my eyes closed. Despite how fast the mind can interpret information, it takes a fraction or so longer for the body to catch up. They're too out of sync with each other. If mind and body were in sync, you could dodge through anything with barely a thought."

"You do this regularly?!" Wes shouted over the grindings sounds of blades clashing.

"I have to make my acts appealing or the audience loses interest. Putting myself in danger is the best way to get their attention. Why do you think Garland's a favorite among the performers? No one knows what outlandish stunt he'll try next, not even the ringmaster himself."

"This still feels excessive!" Wes shouted.

"You said you wanted a workout, right? Now dance, fox boy!" Nebula threw more and more knives at the Umbreon.

How many knives does this Brionne have?! Wes took a deep breath and flashed a confident grin. "Alright, fine! Give me everything you've got! I'll dodge every last one!"

Nebula grinned. "That's the spirit."

"Focus."

"Mhmm…"

"Find your center and channeled your energy through your mind's eye."

"Mhmm…"

"See through the astral world and awaken secrets far beyond that of mortal eyes."

"Mhmm…"

Ava opened one eye and studied the Espeon's lax expression. They sat on the floor of Ava's room, going through Ella's next lesson. Ava was teaching her how to unleash the third eye to enhance her psychic power. Hours of meditation and concentration, though tedious, were the first steps to achieving that power.

However, the Medicham couldn't help but look at her student with skepticism. She has been around people long enough to know when they were paying attention or not. Susan and Micah had a habit of drowning out safety instructions when they were bored, or how her own daughters ignored her when she discussed their eating habits.

Ella's mind was in a different place.

Ava didn't have to read minds to figure out what. The Espeon's wagging tail and giggly humming broke the illusion of refined posture and deep concentration. A normal teacher would decide to criticize her student and correct this distracting behavior.

Ava wasn't this kind of teacher.

"Now, empty your mind of all distractions." Ava breathed in deeply, then wagged her finger. While Ella 'cleared her mind,' Ava guided a paper bag over and pushed it as much air as she could into it, then twisted it shut. "Let the world melt away. Do not think of your surroundings. Become one with it. Do not sense with your five senses. Sense with your third eye."

"Mhmm…"

"And…wake up."

POP!

"AH!" Ella jumped and fell onto her back. Her fur stood on end as a limp paper bag drooped over her face while Ava stifled her laughter. "W-What the heck, woman?!"

"A-Apologies, my faithful student," Ava choked as she tried to calm herself. "It just seemed like your mind was somewhere else other than the empty void of the universe."

Ella blushed in shock, then turned away with a pout. "I-I have no idea what you're on about!"

Ava smirked. "It appears you have been thinking about Wes."

"D-Did you read my mind?!"

"More like an educated guess."

Ella deflated in defeat and sighed. "Alright, I'm…a little distracted." She rubbed her foreleg. "I don't know, I just feel…happier, I guess. Like I've been missing out on something in front of me."

Ava chuckled. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You and Wes are certainly good for each other. You just need to work out that little communication barrier and be more open with him, while he needs to learn to read others. Still, I'm glad to see you in high spirits, even though you're only partially paying attention."

Ella laughed in embarrassment. "Really sorry for that. Wes and I agreed to give dating another shot, but we're not anything official right now."

"I understand. However, I can't teach you the advance secrets to psionic combat if you aren't following my lesson."

Ella sighed, then laughed. "Yeah, I see your point." She slapped her cheeks twice, then resumed meditation. "Alright, I'm ready."

"The third eye is a difficult, but vastly useful ability all psychics should learn in their practice. It'll open up your worldview far beyond what magic can see in the physical realm. You have the talent, Ella. All you need is the practice."

Ella inhaled and clasped her paws together. "I understand, Madame Ava."

"Then let's pick where we left off yesterday." Ava picked up a ball and bounced it in her hand. "Sense the presence of this ball. Orbit it around yourself like you are the center of their universe. When you master the third eye, the universe will become so much clearer. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then begin." Ava tossed the ball.

Ella immediately caught it with her telekinesis, then orbited the ball around herself while maintaining her posture. Ava pulled out nine more and tossed them in. Ella caught them all and continued along.

"Now, as you orbit them around yourself, gently spin them as they move. Like how the planets revolve in rotations, allow the spheres to rotate in your orbital field. Become their sun, the center of their universe."

Ella inhaled, then applied a little more into her telekinesis. The balls gently rotated as the revolved around her. It sounded simple, but there was more complexity in the task than one might realize. Willing rubble off the ground and hurling it is one thing. Channeling her psychic energy to beams is another, helped by her staff's channeling properties.

This required active concentration to continuously spin them in sync with their revolutions. Menials tasks like this of complex movement to better get a grasp of how her surroundings operate.

Ava smiled. "Very good, Ella. How do you feel?"

"Exhausted."

"This seems tedious, but it'll get us one step closer toward unlocking your third eye. We'll keep going until you're ready to move onto the next lesson."

Ella took a deep breath and exhaled a pitiful whine. "Yes, ma'am…"

Morgan tapped his pencil against his desk, not particularly busy. He had finished preparing a batch of medicine for Flint with Gwyn's assistance the other day, so there wasn't much to do other than a quick check-up later. He sighed and flicked the pencil away.

"I just don't know," he muttered to himself. He rubbed his face just as a knock sounded off the door. "It's open."

It swung open and Tony waltzed on in as he would. "Yo, Pops! How's it hanging? Thought I might come check up on you."

Morgan smiled wearily. "How kind of you. I'm not in especially high spirits, but can't ask for better. I'm just sitting around, minding my business."

"That so, huh?" Tony mumbled, raising a skeptical eyebrow toward him. "Sssooo, how do you suppose Flint's doing?"

"He's recovering nicely. A shame about his leg, but there's not much else I can do for it. It'll be a miracle if he can still fight. Then again, if he asked, I could solve the whole problem through a simple amputation. I would make it quick and painless, plus I've see plenty of fighters fight effectively with a missing limb."

Tony smirked. "That's messed up, Pops. I think Flint would want to keep his leg."

"If that's his request, who am I to stop him?" Morgan leaned onto his desk with his arms crossed. "Not that I could ever suggest such an offer to his face."

"What do you mean?"

Morgan shrugged. "I mean, who wouldn't freak out at their doctor suggesting they hack a limb off? Sure, to some, it sounds cool, but others like Flint would be put off by it." He sighed. "Plus, I doubt such a suggestion would fly well without getting tangled into some poor tasting rumor of me."

"Rumors?" Tony asked.

"You should've heard the talk that went around in this caravan before we reached the rest of you. As soon as my identity as the Assassin of Darkness was uncovered, no one's looked at me the same. Not even Ava can look at me without being reminded of the trouble I caused hundreds of years ago. Who she once saw as a close friend now has their image stained by his sins. The corruption of a genuinely good man, or at least that's how I want to believe I am."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Where are you going with this?"

Morgan sighed. "Tony, be honest with me. You kids…are hesitant to trust me, aren't you?"

"What? Dude, get real. Of course we trust you. You've been helping us from the beginning. Why would you think otherwise?"

Morgan turned around and leaned against his desk. "My sins are innumerable. Even if you all trust me, doubt is a powerful weapon. A small shred of doubt can fester and grow. That's what I'm worried about." He glanced away. "When I treated Ella's injuries, I could tell she was uncomfortable being in the same room as me. Even if she won't say it, she doesn't look at me like a trusted ally. I sense doubt, like I'm nothing but a stranger."

Tony frowned. "That so?" He sighed and rubbed his head. "Alright, alright, so Ella's been a little wary of you. That doesn't mean anything. You have changed. You've been on the right path for five hundred years."

"It's not that simple, Tony." Morgan gripped his arm. "This accursed mark burned into my skin will never leave me. Even if the Shadow King were to be eliminated, his will forever lives on in his subjects. This type of magic is inevitable. His will courses through my mind. I had to spend decades to learn self-control. I could revert back any minute if I'm not careful, and I may not be able to come back again."

"That's ridiculous!" Tony retorted. "You've spent hundreds of years doing the right thing and keeping yourself in line. What makes now so different?"

Morgan narrowed his eyes. "Because the Shadow King was gone." Tony's eyes widened as the Hypno stood up. "I felt nothing hunting down my old colleagues and fighting them to the death, but the Shadow King is one force I can't bring myself to face." He glared down on the Dewott. "The Shadow King's will is strong. He expects his subjects to bow before him, completely loyal to him and only him. The heralds follow him without question. I, however, abandoned his principles when the fog cleared from my mind.

"I believe…no, I know Ella has figured out what may happen if I cross the Shadow King. I might revert back to my old self, forever buried under his will." Morgan bit his lip. "I could barely control my bloodthirsty habits the last time. I slaughtered one of their assassins into pieces."

"Griffin kills people. You don't see him going nuts."

"This isn't about needing to kill. Tony, I wanted to kill them. The Jinx and that Sableye who attacked us. It wasn't because I had to, I felt excitement from killing them. A bloodthirsty feeling I've broken away from. It's like spending years kicking a smoking habit, only to fall back into it after inhaling the entire pack at once.

"I'm forever brandish in the mortal realm as a killer and a servant to the Shadow King. For as long as I live, I will be damned to be his loyal herald." Morgan sat down and covered his face. "Tony, I've lived for way too long. Sometimes I wish I could get alcohol poisoning just so I can finally die."

Tony flinched. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Don't talk like that. If you went about and died, you wouldn't have been there to help my mom or sister. You wouldn't have made the friends you did that helped you find purpose. Pops, you've done so much good for this world. Isn't that enough?"

Morgan closed his eyes and hung his head. "I'm cursed, Tony. All the good in the world doesn't mean anything if I can't control myself. I may have control now, but I'll slip one day. The only way I can be freed of this curse is if I was no longer clinging to life."

Tony frowned. "How do you know?"

"…" Morgan turned away. "…Ella's the only one who has been wary of me, correct?"

"Y-Yeah."

"I need to eventually speak with her. I want her to focus on training first." He pressed down on his knees and took a deep breath. "I want to clear the air between us and at least prove to her I can be trusted. After that…I think it's time I explain something to all of you."

"Explain what?"

Morgan raised his gloved hand and glared down at it. "There's one thing I know about the Shadow King. In my years of service to him, I took with me all the knowledge I could before isolating myself to the world." He glared at Tony. "And I want you and your friends to use that knowledge when you face him again."

"What?"

"I, and only I, know the secret of the shadows. The origin and the true name of the Shadow King."