Chapter 82 – Casualties
Angelo leaned his back against the wall, legs crossed. He panted heavily, like he had been running for several miles, and he wasn't sure if that was actually the case or not. He had been going from room to room for at least the first quarter of the day, ever since Elite Heart Rhys' announcements. Tireless—but that was a lie, because he'd never felt so tired since his training with his father.
He saw someone approaching him, and he held up his paw. "P-please, I need a break. I can barely breathe; I can't use Heal Pulse for a while, please…"
The Pokémon—Angelo wasn't even sure who or what it was—left without a word. He felt a pang of guilt for shooing them away so quickly, but what he said had to be the truth. He felt like he was withering away. He'd lost count of how much he had healed the hospitals' patients.
A nap sounded wonderful. And maybe lunch, and second lunch. Anything to get his energy back. They still had food, right?
A blurry figure entered Angelo's vision again, this one accompanied by the characteristic warmth of a Fire. "Phol?" the Smeargle said, squinting up.
"How are you feeling? Don't forget to conserve your energy."
"I—I know, of course I know that," he said, but then something cold was placed in his paws. He squeaked, but then Phol's strong hands guided Angelo's to his face. Smelled like a cold smoothie. A straw poked at his snout. "Ow."
The cool temperature was all he noticed at first, and it was precisely what he needed. Then came the taste—sweet, and was that a hint of coconut? He usually didn't care too much for that, but right now, he liked anything that would cool his chest. There was an odd tang, too. He recognized the taste, bringing back bitter memories, but he shoved those away, too. He needed the energy, even if it was from an Elixir.
"Mmph, I thought these weren't good anymore?" Angelo said, looking up. "All blessed items stopped, didn't it?"
Phol shrugged. "Only some Elixirs failed. Some of them are just made with certain mixtures of ingredients, and that seemed to be enough. Pechas, Rawsts, a lot of them are working just fine, too. They aren't blessed; they're just natural."
"Then Orans were blessed," Angelo mused aloud.
"Sitrus as well, even if they're harder to come by."
Angelo took another deep sip, the tang overtaken by the creamy taste of yoghurt and berry mash. He had to pause, losing sense of everyone else around him, to savor that refreshing gulp.
"You healed nearly half of all the patients here, you know," Phol said.
"I—I did? I think I burned myself out, to be honest…"
"I wouldn't be surprised."
The words themselves should have been disapproving, but Angelo heard something else in Phol's tone. Pride? Praise? Angelo curled his paws, humming. "You mean I did well?"
"You did more than everyone else here. Good job." Phol looked ahead. "Anyway, I need to make sure everything's in order. Let us know when your strength is back, but I think the major influx of patients is taken care of."
Angelo looked up, spotting a furrowed expression on Phol. "Is something wrong?" he asked.
"…Just rest for now. I've got some things to tend to, but they aren't anything you need to worry about."
"Er, right."
The Incineroar left him alone again, and the tension in his chest left with him. Angelo sighed, deflating against the hard wall, and looked at his half-finished smoothie. Why did Phol get that for him, anyway? It would've been nice if he had something with banana in it. Those were always amazing. Apples, too. Apples and bananas… maybe some yoghurt with it? And ice. Was Ludicolo Café still open? Maybe he could escape for a nap there.
"Smeargle?"
Oh, sweet merciful Arceus.
"Yes?" Angelo looked up. His breath caught in his throat; he sprang to his feet and gave a quick bow to the Lucario before him. "H-hello, Elite Heart Lucario Rhys. Er, I, sorry if I'm looking—er—unbecoming or anything—"
"Your aura. You're very powerful, aren't you?"
Oh, stars, why does he know that? Oh, that aura sense—why do Lucario have to be so prying?!
"No, I'm just—er—strained a bit from Heal Pulse. I Sketched it a long time ago, you see, er… Just had to tune my aura to bring it back to the surface. Smeargle are odd Pokémon in that way, don't you think?"
But Rhys stared for a little while longer, eyes trained on him, and Angelo knew that wasn't going to be the end of it. He braced for the line of questioning, the same questioning he always got whenever he showed even an ounce of talent. Just leave me alone. I just want to go home, sleep, and forget any of this happened…
"No, I know what aura strain looks like, and it's certainly not this," Rhys said in a hum.
Angelo cursed in his mind, hoping Rhys couldn't read that, too. "Er—I don't know what to tell you. I'm just an artist, Lucario. Maybe you've seen my work around town? Like, er, the menu inside Sugar 'n Spice?"
"Oh, you made that?" Rhys said, eyes widening with surprise. "Goodness, small world. It's lovely."
His heart fluttered. "You really think so?"
"Oh, of course. One of my students actually—" Rhys cut himself off for some reason, puzzling Angelo. His expression became grave again. "I'm sorry, I got distracted."
No, wait, stay distracted!
"Could you come with me for a mission when the healing is over?" he said.
Angelo hesitated, looking off. He was already feeling tired from all the healing. Maybe he could go on for a little longer, but he didn't want to admit that; they'd be able to handle this on their own.
"I think I'm done with healing for the day, actually. They have everything covered. But I don't think I'm cut out for doing anything crazy, um, with all due respect. I'm just an artist."
"Just an artist?" Rhys pressed. "But your aura is incredible."
Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be? Angelo thought bitterly. For an instant, he didn't see a Lucario before him, but another Smeargle with an infectious, proud smile. Just let me go home. "Sorry, I just don't have a fighter's heart. Normal civilian here. I, er, I was never interested in all that Heart business—just too dangerous."
"I understand," Rhys said, "but this is a crisis situation, and you have one of the strongest auras in town. Please, can you accompany me somewhere for a simple mission? A very simple mission. …Also, do you happen to know Fly?"
If I say no, will you believe me? "I do, er, but it might take me a moment to tune myself to it."
"Tune yourself…" Rhys frowned. "Don't Smeargle completely lose access to a Sketched move once they tune to another? They can only have so many cling to their auras."
How could I forget about that?! Angelo tensed, which earned a concerned look from Rhys, and that just made things worse. At this rate, he was either going to think he was a lunatic, or he was going to peg him as some kind of crisis deserter. And sure, he was that, but that didn't mean Rhys had to know it. For shame! The Elite Heart, asking him for something in a time of crisis…
He had no choice.
"Er, right. I'm actually part of a bit of a… talented line of Smeargle. My father was the same way, and his mother, and her father, and so on… A bit obsessed with preserving the lineage, actually. Er—sorry, rambling." He cleared his throat. "I guess you could say we have a vast aura. We can recall any move that we had Sketched; we don't have to re-Sketch it from anybody. Sketch it once, and as long as we have time, we can relearn it just as any Pokémon can relearn a move they'd buried away."
The more Angelo spoke, the more Rhys' eyes seemed to light up, albeit subtly. He had a sinking feeling why.
"Angelo," Rhys said. "Your father, I mean. He was a Heart."
And there it is.
"Yes," he said, bowing his head. "Died early, of course. That also runs in the family because they just can't stop overworking themselves. So, I carry on the title. Smeargle Angelo, once Junior, now just… well, without title."
"Your father and I were acquaintances for a time," Rhys said, eyes showing just a small flash of nostalgia.
That only made Angelo want to shrink down further.
"Sorry—I didn't mean to talk of the past. But do you need anything before we go?"
It wasn't even his choice to begin with, was it? "Just some time to gather my strength," Angelo said. "What do I have to do?"
"I need you to come with me to a place across the sea. It's a bit of a long flight, but with your power and some energy, we should be able to make it."
Angelo had to make sure he heard him right before repeating, "Across the ocean? What do you mean, across the ocean? There's nothing out there except… Well, nothing! There are rumors about a tiny island, but after that, you'll just go all the way around to the north."
"There is something there," Rhys said. "We need to check on it, but it's dangerous for me to go alone. If you could just come along? I also need to find one other person, another strong aura—do you happen to know any?"
"No, sorry."
"Then I'll continue looking. Can I meet you in Kilo's eastern exit by noontime?"
Angelo checked the shadows outside. They were still a bit angled against the street that split Kilo in half. He had a lot of time to just duck into Ludicolo Café for a quick rest. "Sure. I'll see you then."
Finally left alone, Angelo rose to his feet and tiptoed his way out of the hospital. He made a lazy glance at the patient list; most of them were checked off. That was good enough. Without looking back, he slipped out and paced down the road.
A while later, Phol returned breathlessly. "Second wave of casualties is incoming. All healers gather up! We'll need everyone!" He looked for Angelo. "Where's Smeargle?"
Angelo relished his precious few seconds of isolation in Ludicolo Café. The stools were the same as always, and the tables were mostly empty—people were too busy on getting everything in order on their end, but Angelo wasn't too concerned about that for now. Instead, he placed an order for a simple apple smoothie and closed his eyes. The Elixir shake was nice, but the bitter tang left an aftertaste that he wanted to wash away with something purely sweet. Apples were just the treat. And apples with sugar? Even better.
He made a mental note to consider healthier alternatives next time.
Yet, despite this, that bitter taste didn't go away. Though now it was all mental—because he knew there was still one last job he had to do today, all thanks to that Elite Heart's request.
Angelo groaned and pulled his hat down, hoping he wasn't messing up the fur that constructed its shape. He just wanted darkness over his eyes. "Why me?" he muttered aloud.
"Um, your apple shake," Ludicolo said, placing it on the table.
"Ah! Oh—sorry, sorry." Angelo sprang up, straightening his hat-fur again, and then looked down at the drink. Left alone again, Angelo took a few tentative sips, and then glanced at the entrance. He half-expected to see Rhys there, waiting for him to go. And he'd probably be obligated to comply, too.
Before he knew it, his drink was empty, and he sighed. All things considered, he should probably get back, but a little longer of taking a break never hurt anyone. He looked at his paws, wondering if they were still shaking, but they were stable. Guess all I needed was a bit of sugar…
He sighed, slipping off of his seat. Perhaps a little bit of rest was what he needed after all. The little excursion could do him some good; the hospital was so depressing with everyone panicking. And he'd already healed half of them—they could handle the rest.
He left Ludicolo Café and took a deep breath of the early autumn air. Was it that time of the year already? It certainly didn't feel like it. He should check the leaves the next time he left Kilo Village.
An uncomfortable thought crossed his mind. When was the last time he'd set foot out of the village? He usually spent most of his time at home with his commissions, or working on his comic, and only really went out to gather groceries. His last time going out, that was…
Dad…
Angelo grumbled to himself, his mood instantly soured. Maybe I can back out if I say I'm not feeling well.
A slow walk back to the hospital reminded Angelo that he'd completely forgotten where he was supposed to go to see Rhys. Did he really want to go back and be asked to do everyone's healing again? Maybe he could sneak back home and snooze. It was about that time for an afternoon nap, too.
The hospital looked a lot more crowded than before. Before Angelo had the chance to spin on his heel to leave, his curiosity got the better of him, and he got a little closer. Phol was yelling orders at someone; other Pokémon—Angelo recognized them as healers—tripped over one another and shoved past mildly injured Pokémon in favor of others that were deeper in the facility.
A Clefable waved a Corsola in the air, scattering a cool mist through one of the rooms. Angelo tilted his head, following the two in time to feel the refreshing effects of Life Dew reenergize him. "Er—did something happen?" he asked Clefable.
"Some village northwest was attacked by a stray mutant. Some kind of—I don't know what it was, but everyone who fought it became seriously injured. The whole village ran to bring them here."
"Shake me again!" Corsola shouted.
Clefable complied, more Life Dew seeping into the room.
Inside, several Pokémon were lined up on the floor, varying shapes and sizes, but all of them barely conscious.
"An entire village is in the hospital right now?" Angelo said, squeaking.
"Yes—please, do you know Heal Pulse?"
"Yes, I—"
"Go to room 5E, they're short. Hurry!"
"Okay, where's—"
"Just follow the hall!"
Angelo sputtered an affirmative and weaved past a few more, only for the powerful grip of an Incineroar pulled him back. "Yaaah!"
"Angelo," Phol hissed. "Where have you been?"
"I—I—"
Phol picked Angelo up and hauled him over his shoulder. "We need you in 5E, and then the neighboring rooms. They're all critically injured."
"Critically? How badly were they—"
"Just focus on healing and don't focus on the injuries."
Soon, Angelo was set back down and urged forward. Phol left before he had a chance to reply. There weren't many healers here… The silence was ominous. The buzz behind him was muted.
"Hello?" Angelo called, stepping inside. "I'm here to—"
They were lined up on the ground, several of them unconscious or close to it. Burns—he recognized them as being from Hyper Beams, based on the circular patterns that covered most of the large ones' bodies—and lightning scars covered most of them, and even worse. He approached the first one—a Slowking that was more black than pink. He channeled a Heal Pulse into him, washing away most of the injuries like dirt under a waterfall. Slowking groaned loudly and rolled to the side; dead scales fell away, revealing a fresh coat underneath. They looked sensitive and discolored compared to the rest—had the wounds already settled in?
No, of course they had. Without berries or Revivers or Waypoints—they had traveled all the way to Kilo Village on foot?
He moved to a Boltund next. She whined with every attempted movement, but a Heal Pulse soothed her enough so she simply fell asleep. He checked her pulse, and then her breath; both were weak, but stable.
Then there was a Druddigon, but he wasn't moving at all. He was clutching his side, frozen in time; it looked like bandages had been hastily placed there, only for them to break open and bleed out. "Hey, it's alright," Angelo said softly, and then channeled a Heal Pulse into him.
Nothing happened.
"Er—" Angelo pulled his hand away, staring at the unmoving Pokémon. The blood was slowing, but he had a sinking feeling that wasn't because of the Pulse. It pooled everywhere.
He hadn't noticed until now, but there was a trail of blood from where he had been, all the way to the entrance, and further down the hall. "Hey, wake up," Angelo said shakily, sending another Heal Pulse toward Druddigon. It passed through uselessly and struck a nearby Rhydon, slumped against the wall behind Druddigon. Most of the Rhydon's wounds went away, but the fact that it passed through at all…
Angelo didn't have any aura sense. He didn't need it. Yet, despite this, he still shakily stepped toward Druddigon and held a paw against his neck. It sank in; he felt no pressure. His limb was stiff.
No no no no no.
He had been alive recently. Had to have been. Could he try it again? Heal Pulse—it was supposed to be easy, right? Just—just bring them back from the brink! These Pokémon were well past a usual duel's results. A Heal Pulse was barely enough for some of them, yet…
He moved on to the next Pokémon, healing him quickly. The fatigue was starting to set in, but Angelo ignored it and healed the next, and the next. How many were left? There were at least twenty Pokémon.
Someone was crying in the other room.
His vision was fuzzy; he didn't even know why he was doing all of this. Did he even have enough energy for the next room? He was out of practice. Been out of practice for years. Why was he here?
Keep pushing, Junior! Dig deep and find that inner power!
Angelo shook the voice from his mind. He didn't have any energy left. And once the final Pokémon was healed, he staggered back to see his handiwork. Two of the Pokémon in the room hadn't reacted to his Heal Pulse. The remaining twenty were anywhere between bad to stable.
"Unngh…" The Rhydon he had healed opened his eyes. The barely-healed Pokémon dizzily stared at Druddigon, smiling. He glanced at Angelo. "Thanks…" And then, he tried to reach for Druddigon. "Dad… Looks like we made it…"
It felt as if Angelo's temperature had halved. The last thing he saw was Rhydon holding his father's dead shoulder; after that, Angelo bolted.
A bright green blur raced through the dark forest, tearing through dead branches and leaving nothing but a storm of twigs behind. "Rrgh, it all looks the same! C'mon!" Gahi twisted around and slammed his tail on the ground. Molten earth erupted behind him, followed by a shriek. A blob of darkness dissipated into nothing but smoke.
"Yeah, don't think yeh can sneak up on me that easy," he growled.
He glanced at the sky, hoping that he'd have some vague sense of time, but that was useless with how it was just red, always. He didn't know why he even bothered. He was obviously trapped in some kind of nightmare-realm made by Anam's demon spirit, so that probably meant he was somewhere in the Ghost Orb. This was a pretty big Orb, since apparently it went on forever!
Owen's latent knowledge about flying in a random direction to go into Aether Forest didn't work, either. So, he was obviously also trapped in the Ghost Orb.
He also had a vague feeling that he wasn't supposed to be going in circles. Instead, he had the slightest feeling that he had to go forward, which he felt was supposed to be southeast. He felt something in that direction. What was it? Hopefully something that was less monotonous than a bunch of useless crystals. Still, it bugged him if he left those behind—and so, he now had three diamond-shaped gems in his claws, each one a different color.
A few more quick dashes through the forest, the dead trees a blur that only he could comprehend, and he suddenly stopped and listened.
Going above the treetops was a bad idea. The last time he'd tried that, he couldn't even count the number of dark beams that came from the forest from all directions. His shoulder still ached from that attempt. So, instead, the Flygon grunted and followed the now slightly stronger feeling to the left. Yes, where was that coming from?
He crept through the last of the trees and sensed movement. But at the same time, that movement stopped. Gahi narrowed his eyes, trying to tune his hearing for anything odd. His antennae twitched, but they wouldn't be nearly as useful as Owen's horns. Too bad he wasn't around to help.
Gahi suppressed a growl and crept forward again. Something was ahead, but he didn't have the instincts to creep forward the way a feral would. He folded his wings back, worried that even a strong breeze would make them whistle, but in his distracted shuffling, he stepped on a fragile twig. Gritting his teeth, he stared forward, but he heard nothing.
One more move. It was right behind the tree. Was it friend or foe? Should he call out? No, that could give him away, if it was an enemy.
He knew what he had to do. Just grab it. Grab it quickly—he had the speed—and figure out what to do after that. Maybe pin it down, or toss it in the air.
Gahi tensed his muscles and felt the aura around his body shift, readying for a blink-speed run. He'd only have a split-second, but that was all he needed.
One moment, he was in front of the tree, and in another, his green, gleaming body was on the opposite side in a blurry curve. He grabbed the hiding creature and shouted, "Hah!"
But it was just a mound of dirt and twigs under his claws. "Eh—"
Something lightweight slammed on the back of his neck, earning an irritated grunt. "What's—" He tried to reach for it, but a thin vine smacked his hand away. "Yow! Oy! What's yer—"
"It's rude to sneak up on someone like that," said a familiar, yet extremely high-pitched voice.
Gahi spun around, but something stuck to his shoulder. He reached for it, feeling a thick, tough vine. Pulling it forward, the rest of the creature followed, dangling in front of him with an irritated glare.
"…Trina?" Gahi said to the Snivy.
"If the accent is anything to go by, you're Gahi?" Trina said. "I hope this isn't how you normally greet others."
"Eh—no." Gahi didn't let go of her, though. "And yer a Snivy because…?"
"It isn't really something I know the answer to," Trina said. "How ironic that despite the fact that I take care of your kind, I wound up being the first one to be reduced to my lowest form."
"So yeh really never devolved any of 'em?" Gahi said.
"No. I hadn't considered it. I only wanted to put them in a more stable mental state."
"Oh, right, yeah. Figure you wouldn't've known about that whole thing." Gahi tilted his head left and right. "Guess you just turned 'em inter yer soldiers instead."
Trina's huge eyes narrowed to a glare. "I didn't turn them into soldiers," she said. "I gave them all the opportunity to leave if they wished."
"Yeah, after brainwashing them." Gahi shrugged.
"I wasn't—"
"Look, it's fine. If you wanna get in a philosophy debate about yer methods, go talk ter Owen when I find the guy. I don't care. It was like yeh said, right? We're mutants, so we choose who we wanna fight, but we're fighters. You just gave 'em a choice."
Trina blinked, but then shook her head. "You don't understand what I was actually doing for them, do you? Just because I can alter the mind doesn't mean I do."
"But yer the Bug Guardian. Don't those guys kinda like workin' in hives and all that?"
"What an awful stereotype! Perhaps for feral Combee, but—"
"They call you Queen Trina."
Trina opened her mouth to retort, but she interrupted herself several times. Eventually, she just sighed and said, "That was something they came up with themselves. I didn't enforce it."
"Uh-huh. Didn't stop it, either."
The Snivy growled, her one vine twitching in Gahi's grip while the rest of her body hung limply in thin patience. "I suppose I'll just wait for Owen, then."
Gahi shrugged. "Maybe we c'n figure out why yeh got all tiny, too. But, heh, well, yeh look cuter that way, so that's a start."
Trina growled. "I'm not supposed to look cute. I have a regal image to keep up! If my subjects saw me like this…" She glared at the gnarled tree roots. "We need to find a way out of here that doesn't involve being burned away."
"Eh? What're yeh getting at?"
Trina didn't reply immediately, her expression becoming pensive. Gahi wondered if she was trying to gather exactly what she meant for herself; burning away? He didn't feel anything like that, aside from getting blasted by shadows, but he had shaken that off. It had been more like a cold burn, too.
"It's how I became a Snivy, or at least, what might have led to it." Trina motioned in a vague direction behind her. "I was exploring this forest for some sort of landmark—as a Serperior—and found a distortion. It was a Dungeon. But once I found the exit, I felt myself… evaporating. I had been in such a rush to get away from the Dungeon, though, that I couldn't get back in time before I realized what was happening. The next thing I know…" Trina frowned, motioning to herself with her arms. "Everything goes dark. There was this horrible feeling in that darkness—I fought against it, somehow, and… woke up here. As a Snivy."
"Huh…"
"I premise the same didn't happen to you," Trina said, eyes going up and down his Flygon body.
"Nope." Gahi leaned forward and bumped the top of his head under Trina, earning a surprised shout. Gahi grabbed a vine that had reflexively shot from her shoulder and brought it down to his neck. "Guess yer gonna ride on me fer a bit."
"This is degrading."
"Oh, okay," Gahi said, plucking Trina off. He dropped her to the ground, where she landed with a soft pomf against the dusty ground.
Trina tried to dust herself off with her vines—her tiny arms were almost as useless as when she had mere leaves for hands as a Serperior—and then looked at Gahi's thigh. Humiliating—so small that she'd been reduced to thigh-height…
She didn't need to look up to know Gahi was smirking.
"You're mocking me."
"Wanna walk on yer own?"
Trina crossed her vines and turned her head away. "I said it was degrading. I'm not going back on that."
"Bah! Get over it." He thumped his tail on the ground. "If yer that low ter the ground, and somethin' attacks, no tellin' what it'll be, got it? So get over it, go on my head, and you'll be safer."
"Really, you want that?" Trina said. "After all you just ranted to me about?"
"Ranted? C'mon, I'm just sayin' the truth. Besides, yer still an ally, ev'n if yer methods're shady."
"Yet you'd still lower yourself to carrying me."
Gahi couldn't squint his eyes further. "You just said it was degrading, what're you—"
"Yes, I did. I don't see what's so hard to understand about—"
"So what's that make me, super -degraded?"
"What?"
"What do you mean, what, you just—"
"Hold." Trina raised a vine.
Despite how tiny she was, Gahi listened with an irritated snort. A small plume of indigo fire escaped his nostrils.
Trina lowered her vine and watched Gahi's tail as it thumped on the ground, kicking up a small plume of dirt from a dry patch of the ground. "Yes," Trina said. "I said it was degrading, to let me ride you. And I don't want to perpetuate your feelings by doing that, if that's how you're going to be. I won't play that game."
"Game? What in Mew's pink a—this ain't a game, I was offerin'! You gotta drop yer pride and accept it."
"…Excuse me? Drop my pride?" Trina rubbed her eyes irritably. "I don't understand you. I have no pride to drop here. Putting you in a lower position would mean you would be shedding your pride."
It was Gahi's turn to rub his eyes, even going so far as to pluck off his lenses and groan. "Baaah, I don't get you! Yer small! I'm big! Ride me!"
"Even after what you said? I thought you wouldn't want to be a soldier."
"It ain't like that."
"Then you don't find it degrading?"
"Well, maybe fer you."
"I don't find it degrading at all."
"BUT YOU JUST—" Gahi's claws squeezed together, then tugged at his huge antennae. "You said it was degrading."
"For you."
Gahi blinked at this, trying to repay what little of the argument he could remember. It had gone so quickly that he couldn't even remember precisely what had started it.
While Gahi snapped his lenses back on, Trina continued. "It's degrading to you to carry me. If you feel that I treat your kind as servants, I'm not going to put you in that same position."
"That… wha…" Gahi felt a headache coming on. "I don't care about that. I ain't yer servant. I'm just helpin' you."
The Snivy continued to stare, vines crossed. "…And you're sure? It's as I said. I won't let someone offer their services to me if it means they're lower."
"N… nah, that ain't how I see it." Gahi squeezed his left antennae thoughtfully, ignoring the disorienting feeling that it gave him. "Yer small. That's it. Willow did th' same thing."
"I don't care much for Willow's treatment of others." Trina frowned and concentrated her focus on Gahi's left, gleaming wing. "But if you truly don't mind, then I will ride you."
"Yeah, jus' phrase that better next time," Gahi said, leaning forward to pick up the slightly flustered Snivy from the ground again. "Were you really gonna just go on foot if I got all offended?"
"Yes." Trina looked down. "I know that your group would be unsure of me and my methods, and even if I try to prove myself, that lingering doubt remains. I don't want to exacerbate it if I don't need to."
"Mm. So that's how it is, eh?" Gahi frowned.
"What do you mean?" Trina mirrored his expression.
"Nah, nothin'. Just… didn't think you actually cared."
A confused silence permeated Trina's general aura. During that time, Gahi leaned forward and helped Trina onto his head again, and then started walking.
The Flygon puffed out a small plume of dragon fire. "I thought all the stuff you said was just sweet nothin' stuff. Trying to win us over, y'know, manipulate more people to join yer ranks. Guess I'm just paranoid after bein', y'know, created ter be a weapon."
Trina shifted her weight; Gahi felt that she was leaning forward, resting her chin between his antennae. She wrapped her vines around his neck, finding a good equilibrium.
"Figure I owe yeh an apology fer that," Gahi muttered. "Y'ain't so bad, if y'were gonna go without a ride just ter prove a point."
"It was petty," Trina said, looking away. "I would not have gotten far on my own. I had spent most of my time hiding since I woke up as a Snivy."
"Mm." Gahi tried to look up, but couldn't see her.
Trina chuckled, finally resting her full weight on the top of his head, rather than resting on her shoulders. "Gahi?"
"Yeah?"
"I suppose I owe you a bit of an apology, too. You're much more intelligent than I gave you credit for."
Gahi grumbled, flapping his wings once. "What, just because I talk funny, I'm stupid?"
"No. I just know you from how Lygo used to be," Trina said. "Headstrong, perhaps more interested in the fastest way to fix something than a more careful approach?"
He couldn't deny that one.
"But you wouldn't have gotten this far without at least a little intelligence. And the way you ended up trying to evaluate me…" Trina shrugged. "I think that was something unexpected of you."
A wind blew through the forest and her leafy tail tickled his neck. He tried to ignore it. Gahi's attention turned back to the forest and its dull repetitiveness
"Do you have a destination in mind?" Trina asked.
"Just followin' my gut," Gahi said, holding up his claws to show the three crystals he'd been carrying.
"Hm? What are these?"
"Dunno. Keep pickin' these things up. Every time I get a feeling that there's somethin' there, I find these."
"I see…"
"And I also felt it when I ran inter you. So what, you got one?"
"No, I don't. But I had a similar feeling… Though, I was too small to get close. And it felt a bit aimless."
"Got any better ideas on where ter go?"
"Well, no."
Gahi shrugged, nearly making Trina lose her balance on his head. "Eh, sorry," he mumbled, keeping his head steady. "If I had better shoulders, I'd put yeh there."
"It's not a problem." She wrapped her vines more firmly around his neck—which was much thicker than she was—and asked, "Then we just keep searching until we find something new?"
"Yep."
Trina sighed. "Very well. And hopefully we can find something to eat, too. I don't know why, but… I've been hungry for the first time in… generations. My Mystic powers are suppressed, perhaps?"
"Maybe." Gahi nodded to himself. "I haven't been Mystic all that long. I only know that from Owen. Guess it must be weird needin' sleep and food all over again. Heh. Privileged existence, if y'ask me."
"Hmph. I suppose it was, but it's only a fair exchange for everything we have to deal with."
"Heh." Gahi smirked in reply, but he didn't disagree. He wasn't really sure what to think about the fact that he was a Guardian, too—or at least, for a fleeting moment, he used to be. Perhaps, somewhere deep inside him, he still had that Psychic power. He just had to awaken it again.
"Let's keep going," Trina said. "Maybe we'll find—"
A bolt of lightning, followed immediately by a bone-shattering thunderclap, knocked loose branches from their flimsy trees.
Trina looked up; she had seen the bolt, black like Kilo Village's crater. She squinted at what she thought was something blue in the otherwise red sky. "…Hm. I think I found that something."
"Eh?" Gahi followed the vine Trina used to point. "…A Druddigon?"
"You said flying above the trees is dangerous," Trina said. "How quickly can you weave between them?"
"Watch me." Gahi crouched down, predicted the Druddigon's landing site, and disappeared in a green blur.
