14.
Hot and ExhɅusted
Ginter raised his left fist, tapped the tight knuckles twice against his heart, then flung his hand forward into a flat-handed swipe that had his whole body swiveling to profile. The fingertips bent slightly upward, palm angled and aimed right at Raichu.
"SPARK!" he shouted, blue eyes narrowed and sharp. He held the position, breathing deeply and keeping absolutely still while he waited for the move's execution.
Shinx sat a few feet in front of him, licking his unmentionables. His big ears twitched, but there was nothing.
"SHINX! USE SPARK!"
Shinx flopped over on his side. Raichu screeched, another blinding discharge shooting straight into the afternoon sky. The crackling froze Rei right where he stood.
But Ginter stood unchanged by these events. He grew fierce at the sound of thunder, chin tipping downward and right hand shifting into a fist behind his back. The fingers of his extended hand stiffened, thumb jutting suddenly to the side and elbow bending just slightly, so he could force the palm forward a few inches in one quick thrust.
"Use Spark," he urged.
His partner yawned, tail whipping lazily from side to side.
"Does Ginter's Shinx know the move Spark?" Eiffel asked unhelpfully from where he sat on the edge of the battle court, surrounded by papers and splatters of ink. The misshapen rectangle was sketched with a stick around the dusty front yard of the Security Corps's sparring hall. It was now the largest functional building in the village, and the cramped new offices of the Galaxy Team's many divisions.
"Spark is the move that put Rei out of service for a week," Cyllene reminded him. She was standing and taking her own notes on a slate board.
"Listen to me, Shinx! Feel my movements! Communicate!"
The stiffness in his legs suddenly caught up with Ginter. He lost his balance and stumbled, quickly catching himself on wobbling knees and bringing himself to a quite ungraceful slouch.
"Perhaps he could remove that heavy pack," Eiffel suggested.
"That is not allowed," said Cyllene. "If Ginter takes off his pack, he dies."
"Goodness!"
She wasn't in the mood to humor the hatless naturalist. There was too much sweat on her brow for that. Instead, she scanned her tablet while the merchant picked up his partner and placed him back on four legs.
Known sleepwalkers:
Zisu
Sanqua
Tao Hua's son (Choy?)
Rye
Kiku, "Clover," "Coin"
Pesselle
Colza
Rei
It only went on from there. Kamado had assigned her to collect names and memorize them. Cyllene exhaled, thinking about whether to add her own among the screamers and snoopers. Not that it was a secret. Zisu knew. Ginter knew. The Commander knew. Everyone knew. Obviously. Ginter said she screamed the loudest, and hit the hardest when cornered.
"I swear, you look the most alive out of anyone," he'd told her that morning at their usual breakfast. "You look people in the eye when they confront you. You laugh whenever you see me, like you know something I don't. To be quite frank, it's spooky."
"Do I say anything?"
"There is something you say just about every night. About… oh…"
"Is it something about Sinnoh?"
At that, he'd squinted at her, running his right palm over the sleeve that covered the lightning scar, his lips pulling tight.
"Yes… it's about Sinnoh…"
Rei stamped his foot and swung an arm down from above his head, pointing a flat hand back at his opponent.
"Raichu! Thunderbolt at Shinx!"
Raichu snarled and snickered, its cheeks aglow with static. It lowered to all-fours and flickered as a jolt of electricity fired from every hair on its body.
"Dodge," Ginter said simply. He glared at his partner and flicked his right hand. This time, Shinx listened, leaping and hissing diagonally out of the way just as the attack struck the ground inches from Ginter's boots and dissipated.
"Excellent," the old man said with a smile. "But predictable. Remember that Electric-type Pokémon live by speed and preciseness. As a team, you must be quicker than your opponents can react. And when facing another Electric-type… that's when things get fun… SHINX! TACKLE!"
Another swipe of the left arm, while the right hand remained at his side, two fingers flicking outward to sign the level of intensity.
Shinx was riled up now. He bolted forward, fangs gleaming. In an instant, he became a snarling bluish furball that plowed straight into Raichu's side.
"SPARK!" Ginter shouted.
Rei bit his lip. He could feel the static condensing all around, snaking up his legs and making his hair stand on end. It prickled on the back of his neck. It flashed behind his eyelids, ultra-blue.
And too quickly, Rei reacted.
"THUNDERBOLT!"
He repeated the same movement as earlier, swiping his arm down and aiming it directly forward, his fingers trembling as they came to rest pointed straight at Ginter.
Raichu rolled back to its feet. It squealed and released yet another burst of energy.
"SPARK! NEUTRALIZE IT!"
But the command came too late, and Shinx's whim had run out. The Thunderbolt attack soared straight at Ginter, and he'd barely thrown himself to the ground before it connected with a tree a hundred yards beyond where he'd been standing. The resounding crack split the air in two.
Cyllene stiffened. She heard Laventon's quick inhale, then dropped her tablet and rushed to where Ginter lay coughing. He pushed himself up onto shaking knees, then wiped a bit of spittle from his lips and peered back at the boy with nothing of his usual smirk. Instead it was a full-on scowl, the fierceness of his eyes replaced with fear.
"Never take aim at the trainer!" he snarled.
"I'm sorry!" Rei cried. Sucking in his breath, he popped Raichu's Poké Ball on its head and watched it wither to steam, then rushed over to help his mentor back to his feet.
"I wasn't tryin' to aim at you. I was just showin' Raichu the intensity I wanted for the attack—"
"No, you were panicking. Electric-types can feel your heartbeat. They act on impulse, by the current of your emotions. When Shinx tackled Raichu, you panicked and pointed at my chest. On impulse, Raichu aimed his attack there. Do you know what happens when a Raichu strikes a human in the chest?"
Rei looked at the ground, his face going white. His breath hitched. He turned his toes inward.
"It can stop the heart," Ginter finished.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, high above the peak of Mount Coronet.
Rei shook his head. He could feel two pairs of eyes scrutinizing him — Ginter's steely sapphire and Cyllene's pale blue moons.
"I don't want to learn about battles anymore," he whispered.
"Unacceptable," Cyllene snapped. "You will learn to battle. Ginter has agreed to be your teacher—"
"You don't battle, Captain! Neither does Professor Laventon! Why on earth would people battle each other for fun!? And what does a codger like Ginter know about Pokémon, anyway!? He calls a Shinx who won't obey him his partner!"
He lifted his face, lips quivering and cheeks now flushed with embarrassment.
"Why did you give me that Thunderstone for free? So you could cause a little chaos and pretend you know how to mend it? You are a wicked Ginkgo."
Ginter seemed to ignore the attack. He raised his left hand to his forehead, gritting his teeth and squeezing like his own skull was slowly imploding.
"I need to leave," he said. "Accursed sun keeps getting in my eyes. Come find me in the caravan if you want to buy anything. Or just take it. Just let me sleep. My body hurts. My head hurts. I'm exhausted."
With a quick flick of his wrist, he whipped his odd blue Poké Ball at Shinx to return it, then picked it up and limped away, softly moaning. His other hand was stretched and white as it gripped at a strap of his pack. Eiffel came near, rubbing a comforting hand on Rei's back.
"Now, chin up, Rei. You've learned quite a bit this past week. Raichu knows to listen when you command it now. And you must admit, Ginter's knowledge of Electric-types has filled in quite a few puzzling gaps in our research. Speed and preciseness! What an amusing little revelation!"
"I don't want to fight in a war," the boy whimpered. "I don't want you or Captain Cyllene to fight either."
Cyllene furrowed her brow. "What?"
Blame the heat. Blame the bruises. Blame waking up stiff and smelling like mud, but Captain Zisu was not in good spirits today. And she was certainly not happy to receive the Commander in her cramped little corner of the sparring hall, where a storage trunk served as a desk and a frayed red curtain separated her from the moaning of the leek-addicted invalids.
Kamado held two handfuls of screws, which he let fall and clatter between them on the trunk's splintered lid. His eyes were full of fire.
"I've seen them already. I saw them when I woke up this morning, and again when Tao Hua pointed them out to me," Zisu said, fighting to keep her cool. She wished she had Cyllene's calm under pressure. Or at least her ability to manage those what the hell moments with a single "What the hell."
Kamado's huge hands stroked the pile of screws.
These were the tiny screws the smiths claimed they were out of, because they'd been stolen during the night while everyone was frenzied over sleepwalkers. Zisu had found the box of them spilled all over her quarters that morning. Ress said she'd stolen it from Ginter's caravan while the old man hunted down a sleepwalking Cyllene.
"Ginter is a thief," the huge man said. "He stole these thinking he could sell them back to us at inflated prices! They've got the smiths' initials inscribed! Shameless!"
Zisu tugged at her ponytail in distress. "Yes, but what can we do? We have bigger problems than an underhanded merchant. Ginter doesn't care that we know about the screws. He's dozing in his caravan as we speak.
"Is he!?"
"Are you going to finally confront him?"
Kamado grit his teeth. He slammed both fists on the trunk, and the screws rattled, rolling around on their heads.
"Have you spoken to Cyllene? You assigned her to supervise the Guildmaster."
"I don't touch that situation with the Guildmaster. By Cyllene's own counsel."
Zisu sighed. So many contradictions. No wonder three families had already gone south in hopes of finding favor at the Johtoan border before winter. The Commander's mood swings only got worse the hotter and drier it became. He was going to freeze when winter came, she thought. If the experiment hadn't totally failed by then.
"I am worried about her," Zisu said. "They saved each other's lives the night I wandered off, and they've been friends ever since. I'm sure you've seen them eating together."
"Friends?" scoffed Kamado. "I didn't assign her to make friends with Ginter. I assigned her to make him agreeable."
"I know. She's… She's looking for someone to support her right now."
"She's too easily distracted. She needs someone to guide her, not support her. Ginter is not a guide. I should've beheaded him a week ago, before I had a war to prevent."
"What war?" came a cool voice. Cyllene had parted the curtain and entered the too-small office. Her white bandana was damp with sweat. Her brow ridges were completely bare. Waxed again, by her own hands this time, just so a little more skin could escape the hellish heat.
"Commander, why does Rei tell me you've been frightening him with talk of war?"
The Commander grunted. "Cyllene, how many sleepwalkers are present in the village currently?"
"Twenty-four," she said.
"Right. That's twenty-four people vulnerable to an augurite ax in the back, including yourself."
"What?"
"What?"
Both women stared at him like a Wurmple had just crawled out of his mouth.
"I will make everything clear tonight, right outside this hall. There's a delicate time-frame."
"You'll make it clear now, Commander," Cyllene said. "People are leaving the village you founded because you're starting to frame your endeavor as a suicide mission rather than a search for peace. I suggest you address everyone's concerns immediately. Whatever answers you can give. I will help you. I'll write the speech."
She scooped up a handful of screws on the table. "Where did these come from?"
"The caravan," Zisu said. "They're from the craftworks originally. One of the sleepwalkers discovered them."
"Ginter is a thief," Kamado reaffirmed.
Zisu nodded, clenching both gloved fists. "If he has time to help corral sleepwalkers at night, he has time to pilfer. The reports of theft started on the night of the fire, if you remember. He struck when we were distracted and decided he liked it."
"Did either of you see Ginter on the night of the fire?" Cyllene asked.
She closed her mouth, realizing she'd just proven Zisu's point. Her chest suddenly squeezed, and she felt her stomach drop. She wiped sweat off her brow with her right wrist and turned, marching right back out of the curtain, weaving through the half-drunk bookkeepers and narrowly dodging a roundhouse kick from one of the younger guards.
She thrust open the doors. Felt her sandals crunch on gravel and sand, clouds of dust erupting from each footstep as she marched down Floaro Main Street toward the black ruin and the dusty yellow canvas-covered wagon.
The Guildmaster was hacking again. Violently, like even his lungs were full of dust. Cyllene tore open the canvas flaps to find him hunched over and pressing a wet cloth firmly against his forehead. He'd removed his repaired coat and apron, leaving him just in breeches. His bare chest shone with sweat, and pulsed with each labored breath. His ribs jutted out just below, framing a small paunch slithering with slick gray hair.
He had more scars than the wicked fork of his forearm. Faded pink feathers striped his back and wrapped around both arms like veins. The loose, leathery skin was pitted with them. Stretched. Pinched. Reddened with fresh bruises and marks that looked suspiciously like claws and teeth.
He looked warped, she realized. Like some kind of creature.
"What the hell are you looking at?" he snarled, wringing the cloth in ragged hands.
"A thief," Cyllene said. But without assurance. More like the heat had risen into her brain and her voice had become louder than the ringing in her ears. "You've been stealing from the craftworks. You made your Poké Ball with screws that weren't yours. Shame on me for not realizing sooner."
Ginter flicked the cloth, splattering her tightened face. "Is that all?"
"Are you admitting to it?"
"What if I say yes? Is that the end of me?"
"Why are you being so belligerent today?"
He gripped his forehead with the cloth, heaving in pain. His spine crackled as he folded. The pack was open, she saw. He'd shoved it behind a crate as she entered, but the flap was up, and the sides creased, like it had been rummaged through.
"Because my position demands respect, and no one is showing me any."
"I respect you. I like you."
"You're different. You actually talk to me about things that aren't business. Which is… probably not a good thing, if you knew anything about me at all."
Cyllene frowned. Get away, said her rational thoughts. Any closer and you'll catch his… whatever he's got.
But what if I want to catch what he's got? she retorted. She climbed up into the wagon and kneeled beside him. He reeked of sweat and spit and that strange, cold must. His paunch throbbed as he coughed, and his eyes were blurring. He scratched at his beard with twitching, trembling fingers.
"Then tell me about yourself."
"I don't want to."
"Tell me what you were like when you were younger. Tell me why you became a merchant. Tell me about being friends with kings, and why you aren't anymore. Tell me why you stole the screws, and if you really want to be friends with me, or if you think you're just paying a debt."
"Cyllene, I do want to be your friend. But I can't tell you anything else. It's for your protection. I'm a dangerous old man. I've done and seen very dangerous things."
Her pulse quickened. Her eyes widened. She watched his face contort, yellowed teeth slipping out from the cracked, sliced lips, and she was so damn intrigued by it all.
"Are you dangerous to me right now?"
"Yes," Ginter spat.
"Is it because of what's in your pack? Is it a weapon? Did it cause your disease? Are you contagious or not?"
She inched forward, and he stopped her, pressing one gnarled hand into her chest, nails scraping hard against her collarbone.
"It's not a disease, woman. It's a curse. Now Get. Out. People are going to think very weird things are happening if you're found in here with me shirtless."
The hot palm shoved against her. Cyllene's determined smile dropped. She tilted her head, confused.
A curse? Like magic? Does that mean…
"Please," the old man told her, now sounding more exhausted than angry. He hung his head, face cupped in one trembling hand. "My bones ache, and my head is swimming. You have to let me rest."
"Can I bring you anything?"
He shrugged. "Clean water, if you can find it. Just stop asking about the pack. If the sleepwalkers can steal screws out of here, they can steal that off my sleeping body too. And I can't lose it again. Everything depends on it."
Cyllene bit her lip, gently climbing down out of the wagon and into the cruel yellow sun.
But what will happen when you die, and the pack is left behind?
my head feels like the war...
~N~
Life update: Tao Hua has joined my Discord server. You can join it too! For updates on my fanfiction and info on my original writing project, just send a friend request to scrivenernoodz!
Copyright by Syntax-N, published on FanFiction . Net July 29th, 2023. (six updates this month, ceesus chips. I'm like a regular soussouni.) Do not repost on on other sites. (That's plagiarism.) Please leave comments. (That helps my brand!)