Chapter 9

"We can't just wander around the jungle," said Diantha, trying to dissuade her very determined looking companion from charging off into the darkness with nothing but a small penlight between them and a can-do attitude.

"We can't stay here," Cynthia argued. "There's something seriously wrong with this cave and I'm not waiting around to become another skeleton for someone to dig up a hundred years from now."

Somewhere in the distance Diantha heard a crashing sound. She paid it no mind.

"And you think we're less likely to be attacked roaming around in the dark than we are camped out here? At least we can hide here until daybreak!"

Cynthia scoffed. "I've never hidden from anything in my life and I'm not about to start now."

"I'll be sure to tell your grandmother that tomorrow after we find your corpse because you tried to punch a Bastiodon in the face," said Diantha.

That, at least, seemed to give Cynthia pause. Her shoulders slumped and she looked around at the cave. "Well what do you suggest instead then?"

Diantha hadn't got that far yet. It wasn't as though staying in the murder cave would have been her first choice either.

"You have no idea, do you?"

"I'll think of something."

Thunder rumbled overhead and she felt the hairs on her arms prickle. It was strange - she'd been in situations like this before. Well, maybe not exactly like this, but her Pokemon journey had not been without its trials. Had she always been so afraid of conflict? So averse to danger? Maybe her cushy life in the spotlight had made her soft. Unless it was the absence of her Pokemon - her friends - that made the difference. She felt a wave of disappointment wash through her. If she'd fought harder to keep them maybe they wouldn't be in this situation. She had been the one to surrender first, and who was to say Cynthia and Steven would have parted with their Pokeballs at all if they hadn't been following her example.

The crashing became louder and Cynthia looked to the mouth of the cave.

"Whatever's making that sound is getting closer," she said. She reached up to brush some blonde hair away from her eyes and then smiled at Diantha in a way that looked almost apologetic. "Hiding might not be a bad idea in retrospect. At least for now."

The surge of relief was immediately tempered by the realisation of what that would actually entail. A full night surrounded by the broken remains of what looked like a violent battle. She swivelled the torch around in search of flat ground, but found none. She shivered.

There was another crash and vibrations knocked some gravel free of the cave wall. It fell with an ominous sort of clicking sound. Diantha's fingers tightened around the penlight.

A hand on her shoulder startled her and she twisted her head to look at her companion. Cynthia smiled at her, grey eyes calm and sure and despite the situation she felt her erratic breathing steady.

"Stay here," she said. "I'm just going to poke my head around the corner and see if I can spot whatever's making all that noise."

Diantha hesitated, but then nodded. "Do you need-" She held out the penlight, but Cynthia shook her head.

"Don't want to attract attention," she said. Right, Diantha thought, of course.

She watched as Cynthia moved to the entrance of the cave, carefully stepping around the bigger shards of bone protruding from the ground. She reached out a hand to steady herself against the wall and Diantha held her breath, rooted to the spot, as her companion reached her target destination. Cynthia paused, and then disappeared into the rain.

An unexpected moment of terror stole Diantha's breath away. Don't leave me alone. The thought flashed across her mind, unwanted and unbidden. She closed her eyes, ashamed of herself. What kind of champion was she? Maybe not the kind she wanted to be.

Then, as quickly as she'd left, Cynthia returned. Her face was pale and her mouth was drawn into a tight line. Before Diantha could ask her what she'd seen, the woman was taking wide strides towards her.

"Further into the cave," she instructed, with the tone of somebody accustomed to being obeyed. "Out of sight of the entrance if we can."

Diantha almost stumbled in her haste to do what she'd been told, and only a steadying hand around her bicep kept her on her feet. Before she could protest, Cynthia released her and reached down to grasp her hand, tugging her forward. Only surprise kept Diantha from pulling away. It had been such a long time since anyone had dared touch her without permission that she had almost forgotten what human contact felt like. The thought settled uneasily in her gut and she wrapped her fingers around Cynthia's warmer ones.

"What's out there?" she asked, voice low.

"Rampardos," said Cynthia. Her step slowed and she looked around with an unhappy expression on her face. None of them had ventured in this far earlier in fear of encroaching on the home of an irate Pokemon. "Rampardoses? Rampardi? Whatever the word is for too many Rampardos. Steven would know."

Diantha swallowed. "I hope Steven made it back to the Visitor's Centre okay."

"There's no reason he shouldn't have," said Cynthia, though the expression on her face belied her words. "Dr Stone's people have been on this island for months and at the very least it doesn't look like any of those cars have taken a beating." It was true, but then why did Diantha feel so uneasy?

They rounded a corner and came to an abrupt stop. "Oh," said Cynthia. The way was entirely blocked off by rock. "That's...strange."

Diantha raised the torch and moved it slowly around the obstacle before them. "What's strange?" It just looked like the end of the cave to her. Wasn't that how weathering worked?

"There aren't any fossils in these rocks," said Cynthia. "It looks like there was a cave in, except for…" She trailed off.

"Except for what?" Diantha prompted.

"I don't know," she said. "It looks wrong." She released Diantha's hand and took the last few steps forward to close the distance between herself and the rocks. She pressed her palm against one and pushed. Nothing happened. "Hm."

If this had happened earlier Diantha would have been quick to dismiss Cynthia's concern, but the last time Cynthia had expressed an opinion about something being not quite right they'd found a human skeleton mixed in with the remains of what looked like an ancient Pokemon battlefield. Diantha cast a wary look back the way the came; at the very least where they stood now wouldn't be visible from the mouth of the cave.

There was another crash. A louder one this time. More pieces of gravel shook free of the walls around them and Diantha jumped in alarm.

"What exactly were those Rampardos doing?"

"Fighting," said Cynthia grimly. "Each other and the mountain side. And they were moving this way."

"They're charging the side of the mountain?" asked Diantha, aghast. "What if there's another cave-in?" Cynthia didn't seem to have a response to that. "Maybe there's still time to get out-"

"No." Diantha stopped in her tracks. "They're too close for us to get past without being noticed, and I don't know about you, but I can't run faster than a Rampardos."

Her heart began to beat harder against her ribcage.

"I work out," said Diantha, aiming for and falling somewhat short of the mark of levity. "When I'm not too busy." Which was far more often than not.

She was rewarded with a quick laugh. "My legs are longer than yours," Cynthia pointed out. "Think that cardio would help you keep up with me?"

"Was that a short joke?"

"I would never disrespect Kalos' finest like that," said Cynthia.

Before Diantha could reply, there was another crash and the world around them shook. Rocks rained down on them from above and Diantha threw her arms up to cover her head. Bruising stones bounced off her forearms.

They were close enough now that Diantha could hear them. The sound of wet gravel being scraped underfoot of something very big and very heavy and the accompanying grunts that could only really sound from a rock Pokemon. More crashes, but thankfully not to the side of their hiding place this time. No, this was the telltale sound of a battle. Or given the number of voices, a brawl. Diantha brought up a hand to wrap her fingers around the Key Stone resting on her chest.

She straightened up slowly, still wary of falling debris, listening for any sign of the Pokemon growing closer.

"What's wrong with this wall?"

Diantha's head whipped around, eyes widening in horror. "Shh! They'll hear you."

"Over all that racket out there?" said Cynthia, waving a dismissive hand but still keeping her voice low. "I very much doubt it."

She had pressed her whole body against the rocky barricade now, pushing her fingers in between the cracks like she was hoping to pull something free.

"Well you'll forgive me for not wanting to risk getting gored on you 'very much doubting' something," Diantha hissed.

"Ah ha!" said Cynthia, completely ignoring Diantha's protests. Her fingers were firmly wedged around a rock and she pulled gently. Diantha could have slapped her. "Now if I time this right we can…"

She paused, ear turned towards the exit of the cave. Whatever it was she was waiting for, she didn't have to wait long. One of the Rampardos' crashed into the side of the cave. Stones slid down the walls around them and Diantha pushed her fist against her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Then, Cynthia pulled on the rock she was holding.

Diantha watched in horror as she successfully managed to dislodge the rock from the confines of the wall. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud and Cynthia staggered backwards, only just catching herself from falling by throwing out her arms to steady herself.

For a second, nothing happened. Diantha held her breath. Please don't have heard us. Then there was another crash outside and the landslide began.

The back wall of the cave began to crumble. Rocks slid down and Diantha jumped to avoid one of them. Then a hand grabbed her arm and dragged her away. She stumbled and allowed herself to be corralled to the other side of the room, Cynthia covering most of her body with her own as the cave seemed to quake around them. Outside, Diantha could still hear the rage of an ongoing battle - thank goodness for small mercies. Then she was pushed harshly into a wall, Cynthia's hand pressed above her, maybe to keep her balance or maybe to protect Diantha's head from falling rubble.

Diantha ducked and pressed a hand against her face. Dust rose around them making it hard to breathe and she suppressed a cough.

"It's okay," said Cynthia, only just loud enough to be heard. "You're going to be fine. It's almost over." Diantha wanted to believe her.

Another heavy crash into the mountainside sent the last pile of rocks blocking their path collapsing to the ground with a clatter of noise. Diantha shook along with it and with her free hand gripped at Cynthia's long coat, pulling it closer to her body. She tried to keep her breathing even, but grit stuck in her throat and she hacked out a cough.

Then it was over. The noise quieted to a few pieces of tumbling gravel and Diantha blinked up through watery eyes. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but even the sound of the battling Rampardos seemed further away. She felt Cynthia let out a very long, slow breath and suddenly realised how closely they stood.

Her mouth twisted into a grimace and, with what little strength she could muster, she shoved Cynthia away from her.

"Why the hell," she said through gritted teeth, "did you do that?"

Dust began to settle around them and Diantha clutched a shaking fist to her chest and willed her erratic heartbeat to calm. She shined the torch up at Cynthia's face and watched her flinch away from the light. Good, Diantha thought vindictively.

"Sorry," said Cynthia. Her voice cracked and she rubbed a hand across her now dirt streaked face. "I didn't realise it would be quite so...dramatic."

"Dramatic? You could have killed us!"

"I made sure nothing would hit you."

Though she still shook with anger (and no small amount of fear), Diantha felt herself deflate. "That's not the point," she said. "The Rampardos could have heard us. You could have been hit by a rock. What was it you said about not wanting to be another corpse here waiting to be dug up?"

"I'm sorry," said Cynthia again. She sounded sincere, but Diantha wasn't ready to let go of her frustration yet. "I keep forgetting that we're...alone out here."

"Because if you had your Pokemon with you what you just did would would have been okay?" said Diantha, incredulous. Cynthia didn't answer, which she interpreted as a strong 'yes'. Diantha shook her head. "Well I hope it was worth it."

Cynthia offered her a vague smile. "Only one way to find out. Can I have the torch?"

"No," Diantha snapped, bringing the offending object closer to her chest. Maybe it was petty, but she felt safer knowing that the other woman couldn't run off without her. She had already allowed far too much of this sorry little trip to have been dictated by other people.

Cynthia's weak smile fell and she stood up a bit straighter. "All right." She gestured towards the new opening, which up until now Diantha had been ignoring. "After you then."

Hadn't quite thought this one through, Diantha thought with a little annoyance. Not wanting to lose face, she tilted her chin up and turned her back on her companion. Best foot forward. If nothing else, maybe they'd find somewhere they could at least wait out the night that wasn't covered in old bones.

Diantha pursed her lips and picked her way forward, careful not to snag her heels on anything. The ground beneath them, which had already been difficult to navigate, was now littered with a new haphazard layer of jagged bedrock. If she'd known this venture was going to involve so much moving around she'd probably have worn something more appropriate. As it was she dreaded to think what her beloved outfit looked like now. Perhaps Cynthia had the right idea sticking with black despite the heat - at least the filth wouldn't show up as prominently.

"Careful," said Cynthia, hovering just behind her as she finally breached the inner part of the cave.

The first thing that struck her was the smell. The air hung thick around her, heavy with dust and gods only knew what else. She pressed a hand to her face, but it did little to protect her from the lungful of dirt she was no doubt inhaling. If it stayed like this there was no way they'd be able to spend the whole night here.

This was not how she had envisioned her day going.

"Well this is interesting," said Cynthia.

They were stood in what looked like a sort of antechamber. It was small enough that the light from the torch reached the opposite wall, but large enough that it would take more than a few strides to reach it. She moved the beam of light around slowly.

"Stop," said Cynthia. She did as she was told. "There's something on that wall."

Without waiting for her, Cynthia made a beeline to whatever it was she was looking at. Begrudgingly, Diantha followed. As she got closer she began to see something taking shape.

"Oh."

A tremor of fear ran down Diantha's spine. She didn't like that tone of voice in the slightest. "What do you mean, 'oh'?"

"These are drawings," said Cynthia. She brushed a hand over the wall. "Paintings."

"Nice paintings?" she asked, hopelessly. An ancient art gallery was closer to being in her wheelhouse at least.

"I'm afraid not," said Cynthia.

She'd known it was too much to hope for.

"Just take it," said Diantha, pushing the torch into Cynthia's hand. It wasn't as though she had any idea what they were even supposed to be looking for.

Cynthia muttered a quiet, "thank you," in response and began to slowly follow the wall around. Diantha tracked her movements, but stayed glued to the spot and allowed her mind to wander. Now that she was no longer directly in fear for her life, the first pangs of hunger were starting to make themselves known. It must already be late in the evening...meaning there was definitely no chance of them getting back to an island not infested with aggressive Pokemon before tomorrow.

There was a sudden rattle and Cynthia hissed out a loud curse word. Diantha's eyes snapped open.

"Are you all right?" said Diantha, taking a few steps forward. Cynthia seemed to have made it to the opposite corner of the room.

"It's a mural," said Cynthia, rather than answer the question. "A series of events. Painted onto the wall and then barricaded in so they couldn't be destroyed."

Diantha paused to digest this. "So it wasn't cave-in that blocked off the room."

"No."

"I'm really beginning to hate this island."

"So am I," said Cynthia, and something in her voice caught Diantha's attention. A cool breeze, that probably shouldn't have been able to reach that far back into the cave, blew through the room.

"What does the mural show?" An awkward silence stretched out and Diantha shuffled her feet. "Cynthia?"

"It…" she trailed off. "I'd just like to preface this by saying I'm not by any means an expert in these kinds of things. I'm frequently wrong." Somehow, Diantha doubted that.

Maybe it would be better not to know. "Just tell me. Please."

Cynthia looked over her shoulder and nodded. "All right."

She gestured to the first painting they'd looked and Diantha switched her attention. Now that she was looking more closely, she could see the clumsy outlines of several Pokemon as well as the occasional stick figure. Marked in a rusty brown colour. Lovely.

"It seems that Pokemon and humans did once live on this island peacefully," said Cynthia. "Finding human bones outside was no coincidence. I think if we dug a little deeper we'd find a lot more of them."

"Oh good," said Diantha faintly.

"It doesn't say how long it took for things to change," said Cynthia. "It doesn't say why either. Or how. Maybe if I had more time…"

"Cynthia."

"To cut a long story short," said Cynthia, pulling herself back from whatever it was that was going through her mind, "the Pokemon turned. Or maybe the humans turned on the Pokemon first. These paintings were obviously drawn by human hands and as a species we aren't known for our unbiased accounts of history."

"The Pokemon attacked them?" Diantha folded her arms in front of her and moved closer still to her companion.

"It seems that way," said Cynthia. She moved the light over another picture further down the wall. "This one depicts a great battle." Diantha didn't even bother looking. She couldn't bring herself too. Why had she not gone back to the Visitor's Centre with Steven when she'd had the chance? "Humans versus Pokemon and well...it looks like the humans never stood a chance."

"Merde."

"My thoughts exactly. The images show the Pokemon becoming more and more violent. Interestingly, the depiction of Aerodactyl is a lot closer to it's Mega Evolution than the form we currently know it in-" Diantha turned to glare at her. "-which isn't important right now."

"What next?" said Diantha, not actually wanting to know.

"Based on the...less than scientific depictions of the mountains, it looks like the final battleground was somewhere nearby, which makes sense given all the fossils. I might be wrong about that. I might be wrong about all of this." Diantha wasn't quite sure which of them Cynthia was trying to convince. "The rest is just guesswork, but it looks like this place was a last attempt for the humans to make sure nothing like this happened again. They barricaded themselves in here and drew these to warn people. To warn us."

Diantha let out a laugh, that even to her own ears sounded hysterical. "Maybe if they wanted to warn us they shouldn't have hidden it so well!" Then she paused, a horrible feeling sinking in her gut. "What do you mean they barricaded themselves in here?"

Cynthia grimaced and redirected the torch to the ground not a foot away from where she was standing. Diantha recoiled in horror. If there was any arguing that the last collection of bones they'd found was a human hand, there would be absolutely no denying that this skeleton belonged to a human. Beside it sat a crudely carved stone bowl that looked like it might once have contained the paint used to decorate the walls.

"I almost tripped over him," said Cynthia, remorseful.

Diantha felt like her entire body was shutting down. She felt hot and cold at the same time and her already shallow breathing became erratic. Her fingers clenched uselessly around nothing and nausea churned in her stomach.

Then Cynthia was by her side, a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. Just breathe."

"How is this okay?" Diantha bit out.

"It's not," Cynthia conceded, and Diantha laughed that horrible, hysterical laugh again.

"What are we going to do?"

"We're going to survive," said Cynthia, with grim determination.

His feet slipped and slid dangerously over wet mud, but Steven ran on. His heart pounded in his ears and rain water dripped down from his hair and into his eyes. Or maybe those were tears. It didn't really matter.

An all-but-full moon, partially covered by fading rain clouds, lit the path in front of him, but he had no idea what part of the jungle he was in. He hoped he was heading back towards the cave he'd left Cynthia and Diantha in. Or the Visitor's Centre. Bring surrounded by trees, however thinly spaced, made it impossible to know and he wasn't stopping for long enough to work it out, even though his brain screamed at him to do just that. Blind panic wasn't him. Not really. Still, fear drove him on.

Poor Martin.

He cast the thought from his mind as well as he could, which is turned out wasn't very well at all. It would do no good to dwell on it now.

The world around him smelled of damp and decaying plant-life in a way that caught in his throat with each gasping breath. Without his Pokemon by his side, he wasn't sure he'd ever felt so exposed and alone in his life. Though he knew it was impossible, he would swear he could still hear the heavy thunk of the Tyrantrum following behind him.

Then his foot caught on something.

He yelped in surprise, ankle twisting awkwardly beneath him as he slammed down into the wet, unforgiving ground. Pain shot up his leg and down his side as he skidded along the mud before coming to an unceremonious stop.

For a moment, all Steven could do was close his eyes and focus on sucking air back into his aching lungs. Every single part of his body hurt. But, he thought, nothing seemed to be broken. Things could be worse, he told himself. Not in many ways, admittedly. He could do this.

Another fortifying breath, and he rolled himself back up into a sitting position. His eyes blurred with tears as a sharp pain pulsed outward from his ankle. Somewhere high above him, a Pokemon cried out. He flinched at the sound. Archeops, he thought. Brave of it to be out in the storm. Or maybe stupid.

He pulled his knees up to chest and flexed his foot. It hurt. A lot. Not enough to stop him from walking he hoped. At least there were plenty of trees around he could use for support, and apart from some scrapes his arms seemed uninjured. His breathing began to even out and Steven felt his heartbeat slow. Panicking won't help anything.

That was when he heard it.

Steven tilted his head to one side. A quiet whining sound? No. A whimper.

Ignoring the shock of pain that came with movement, Steven slowly got to his feet. Half of his body was caked in mud and he brushed away some stray fern leaves that had stuck to his shorts. The fossils, he noted, were still securely in his pocket, though they'd somewhat lost their lustre after what he'd just seen.

"Hello?" he said into the darkness.

The whimpering stopped.

"Is someone out there?" Steven tried again.

Silence followed and Steven shivered, hoping he hadn't just made a terrible mistake. Then -

"Hello."

Steven blinked. The voice was feminine. Young, even. He hesitated only briefly before moving towards the sound.

"Who are you?" he said.

"Who are you?" the voice challenged in return.

A fair question, Steven thought. He approached the tree, behind which he was sure the owner of the mysterious voice was located, and edged around it. What he saw made him stop abruptly.

"Hello there," he said.

A girl of no more than fourteen sat curled up among the protruding roots of the tree. She looked up at him with wide, dark eyes, face streaked with tears. Though she wasn't as filthy as Steven was after his dive, her black and white tank top looked like it had seen much better days and her black hair frizzed wildly around her head.

"I'm Steven," he said, completely nonplussed. His uncle hadn't mentioned there were children on this island.

"Kelly," the girl replied.