And now for something completely different.
The Lights in the Sky Are Thunderbolts - XXVIII - The Fallen Interlude
"...Galar's own Macros Cosmos is coming under fire after announcing that they will continue the process of merging with Galactic Industries despite the recent controversy…"
The television lit up with a still frame of an olive-skinned man with dark hair and a text box containing a quote. "We are aware of the current indictments being leveled against Galactic Industries, however, it is in the best interest of Galar, Sinnoh, and the world at large that we join hands and seek finer energy solutions. If it is true that certain subsidiaries of Galactic Industries have been mistreating Pokémon in an attempt to harness their energy, then it will be soon proven in a court of law. We will be cooperating with law enforcement to the best of our abilities."
The newscaster returned, saying, "The processes of investigation have only just begun, however. Owing to an anonymous tip, a team including Sinnoh's own Champion investigated Galactic Industries' Eterna City location, which has been closed for the duration of the case. Pokémon found on-site have been released into the wild where possible. The director of public relations for Galactic Industries had this to say."
A similar placard appeared, with a red-haired woman in a bob cut standing at a podium. "...We understand that many are angry due to the allegations levied against Galactic Industries, and rest assured, we are as well. Galactic Industries has always been on the edge of energy production and refinery, and we seek to use humane methods as we do so. I would like to assure Sinnoh that we can be trusted with your future…"
Hilda clicked off the television and groaned, sinking further into the cardboard-like hotel bed. International news was always apathy-inducing, though it wasn't technically international if she was currently in Galar. It was all the same public relations Bouffa-shit that she'd been able to see through even before she was empowered by Reshiram. She couldn't see the Truth through electronics, but she was able to read people much better than she used to be.
Tepig snuffled and burrowed into the crook of her elbow. She grinned as she hardly felt the heat of their skin. Professor Juniper had been generous enough to let her take a starter Pokémon even if she wasn't going on a typical journey. Was journey the right word? A quest. Yes, a quest to find that moron and bring him home.
Her list had been pretty simple. The missing persons posters in Unova hadn't done anything so far and they weren't likely to any time soon. Her only real lead in Unova had been that some big shot in the Battle Subway named Ingo had also gone missing recently, but it seemed like he had just vanished into thin air. Hilbert was a little too stupid to learn a foreign language (He'd barely managed Paldean back in Trainer School), so Galar and Paldea were higher up on the list. He didn't remember much Sinjohan-Japanese from when he was a little kid so that bunch of regions was out unless she found a reason to look. Orre was back across the pond but even with Reshiram at her back, she didn't want to wander alone in a place like that. "Horror stories" didn't cover it.
It was like trying to put a puzzle together, or creating a wall of conspiracy theories, red strings and all. She would induce the truth by looking everywhere she could, all over the world if that was what it took.
Her expression tightened. What exactly would it take? Would she have to travel endlessly, searching for something she wasn't certain she could find?
(She had to be certain, didn't she? What was the Truth without certainty?)
Would she be able to bring him home, to make that Ideal they once shared reality?
(Could there be Truth in an unsure future?)
She had to believe in that Ideal even if he had abandoned it. She clenched her fists. If he had been forced to abandon it?
As the saying went, hell hath no fury.
Though Cheren had never told her how that quote ended after saying it. Weird.
Floaroma Town, Dawn mused, they should have skipped. The atmosphere was far too sullen to stick around for long, and Barry's jokes about her going off to pick flowers had fallen even flatter than they would have normally. She'd asked around, putting in some effort to blunt her edge for once, and found out that someone, a Belle Makino, had died recently. She hadn't pressed for further details and none were offered.
The inn currently wasn't accepting visitors, and Barry was thrown out on his ass when his blood had gotten too hot for the owners to tolerate, so they were currently camping on the outskirts of town.
"They" being used in a general sense. Lucas and Barry (even their common names were too familiar, ick) had gotten it into their heads that they needed to watch the third stooge's second gym battle somehow, no matter what obstacles stood in their way. After she pointed out that Floaroma Town's Pokémon Center was too small to have GTS terminals and that internet cafes were a solely urban development, Barry gave a thumbs up, closed one eye and spouted off some crap about "bros supporting bros" before running off.
That left Dawn on her own, slumped next to their slowly dying campfire and grumbling while staring off into space. Maybe a satellite adapter for her laptop would be worth the price. Maybe a faster solar charger while she was at it. And maybe duct tape for when Barry got too yappy. And maybe some caffeine patches for Lucas, because no one could be that much of a doormat without being half-asleep. And maybe-
She was shaken out of her wandering thoughts by a figure slowly approaching, or rather, floating towards her.
The Pokémon- for what else could it be- was maybe a third of a meter tall. Half of its body looked like an uprooted tree stump which had been flipped over. Two holes had been carved out of its front and within its wispy body she could see two glowing orbs.
She eyed Turtwig, who cautiously got to its feet as the Pokémon approached. It didn't seem to be feral, but if it was a Ghost-type like it seemed to be, that passivity could easily be a trick.
She could only stare and blink as the Pokémon stopped a meter or so away and started poking the tips of its stubby, barely corporeal digits together. It was acting like a child working up the nerve to ask for a cookie.
She eyed the vines wrapped around its horns, shrugged, and beckoned it closer. She took a gentle hold of a petal in her hands, careful not to tear it from the crown of woven flowers that grew out of the Pokémon's head. There were four petals to a flower and all of them were equally golden. They folded away from the sprout like a bell, and from the way the Pokémon had been flitting about, she was more surprised that she hadn't heard ringing.
In her mind, a myriad of polished bronze mirrors reflected the beam of light that was her thoughts deeper and deeper into her psyche until she found the Knowledge she had been looking for.
She was, of course, completely unaware that this manner of thinking was out of the ordinary, and simply hummed. "Forsythias. Looks like spring came early."
The Phantump had the decency to look embarrassed at the scrutiny.
It may have been odd for a skeptic such as her to dismiss the oddity the Ghost-type presented, but that was the distinction. Ghost-types were just Pokémon that happened to resemble the dead and often fed off of subtler forms of energy, like electrostatic friction or gravitational force. Ghost-types simply couldn't be spirits because she believed that spirits weren't real.
Though she could admit that the Phantump was rather childlike in appearance. Dawn repressed the urge to grab its amorphous body and give it a tight squeeze. She was an adult. Adults didn't indulge in cute things or fuss over cute Pokémon.
The Pokémon looked up at her, pupils crossing as they tapped the tips of their shapeless digits against each other. It whistled at a quiet, whining pitch, not unlike how the family Growlithe would beg at the foot of the table during meals.
Dawn huffed. "Fine. I suppose you can come with me."
The Phantump's wooden mouth twisted into a round smile.
One of Cheryl's first memories had been the feeling of wooden grain on her fingertips. Aging bark scraping and turning to powder beneath her touch. There was a brief feeling of weightlessness as she climbed, and just as the world unfolded and spread out beyond her reach, she felt a heavy weight pulling her down.
Her next memory was of standing on a plush carpet wearing black, alone except for her grandfather. There was incense burning, though to her child's nose it smelled no different than a campfire.
What had happened, her grandfather explained, was that when men and women grew old, they lost some of their fire. They burned out like Groudon might if it were doused in Kyogre's seas. That was what had happened to her grandmother.
She had asked why Rayquaza wasn't stopping the fighting like they did in all of the legends.
He changed the subject and stopped using that metaphor, not that she understood it at the time.
Chansey had always been in their lives. The Pokémon was young, though Cheryl had never known them as a Happiny. It had been her grandmother's aide while she was ailing.
She returned to that tree throughout her childhood on the days when her grandfather was away and the neighbors didn't need a babysitter or tutor. It seemed to grow smaller and frailer, though she logically knew that she had been growing larger and stronger.
When she was particularly young, she couldn't reach the lower branches without Chansey's help. The Pokémon would refuse to help unless she promised not to go any higher than it was comfortable with, and she agreed.
On the lower branches, she could see above the rooftops of the town and the tips of the towers in the distance, those of Hearthome and Veilstone. Beneath her weight the wood felt sturdy though it still creaked in the wind.
She grew older, maybe falling from the tree once or twice but recovering from the bruises soon enough with Chansey's help. She climbed higher. The branches grew thinner and the views grander.
Her grandfather died. There was no metaphor to help her and there would never be again. She was a strong enough girl, they all said. She could carry on as she would, not needing the hopes they fed to their children.
Executing the will was simple enough. Solaceon was the kind of town where you could leave your home unattended for months on end and be pleasantly surprised to find that the neighbor boys had been "encouraged" by their parents to take care of your lawn when you returned. She didn't visit that tree after her grandfather died and she hadn't for a few months before. What she did was take the directions and maps left behind for her, study them compulsively, and set off to find her ancestral home.
And it was an adventure! She insisted that in her mind, because to call it any kind of hardship would be to admit that her grandfather had exaggerated his own adventures, that most of the records in his journal were of receipts and favors owed rather than the grand stories he spun for her, that what he had told her was anything less than the unvarnished truth. Being an adventurer was grand and glorious in all aspects, because anything less meant that her grandfather's reason for running away from his own demons and the death of his child wasn't as good as she believed.
For all of the reading she had done about great wars and legendary battles, she couldn't quite bring herself to believe that fighting was a good thing.
All of this in hand- her lack of peer interaction, her unique circumstances, and her possibly overweening knowledge of history- it was a miracle that Hilbert had been as generous as he had. Normal people didn't shrug off (discounting the complaining) getting shot with an icicle, go into a haunted house, and then punch spirits in the face, much less for people they barely knew. He spoke a lot of dreams in the same way her grandfather did though he was more open about it. She had dared to call him a friend even if he had to leave.
That was the nature of things, wasn't it? The winds went everywhere. It was like she had climbed to the top of the tree, even after leaving it behind in Solaceon Town. The same winds had brought Dawn and the others to her not long after.
Being with them was like sitting up in that tree, knowing that the trunk was thin and the roots rotted, but trying to enjoy the sights the branches granted anyway. There was no higher place to go, and to try and find something greater would be like trying to walk on air. Even where she was, it could fall apart at any moment.
She didn't have the same childhood as they did and could never really be like them. Too much of who she was had been set in stone. They still accepted her into their group on nothing more than Hilbert's recommendation. She was immensely lucky to have met them and she recognized that. She was thankful that her efforts had paid off, if only a little bit.
It was good to have friends.
Thinking of those summer days up in that old magnolia tree, she remembered how she was once able to rest.
The artificial riverbanks in Eterna City, Barry felt, were pretty but also pretty damn good for taking a nap. Having split off from the rest of the gang (or rather, the other way around), he had decided to lay down on the grassy slope, kick back, and try to catch some z's. He'd tried to enhance the aesthetic by chewing on a blade of grass, but one yawn later and he was hacking his lungs out. The reason he'd been left alone was that Lucas had decided to check out the library and Dixie and (nickname pending) Cheryl were doing girl things. Probably.
Owing to his solitude, the boy began thinking for what he would deny as being the first time in his life.
What were the odds?
It was a question that had been asking himself since the day he got his first Pokémon and also one that pestered him incessantly since arriving in Eterna City. What were the odds of there being so many coincidences in their journey? What were the odds of Hilby coming back to Sinnoh right after (having passed with flying colors, naturally) Barry and Lucas got their licenses? What were the odds that the same day Barry felt the urge to try and find the spirit of Lake Verity that Hilby had just blown up a flock of Starly in front of Professor Rowan and Dixie?
No, seriously, the probability of everything related to Hilby was so close to zero that it might as well have looped back around to one hundred percent. Getting visions from a Legendary? Eh, schizophrenia was sort of genetic and early onset illness wasn't impossible. Dying and being reborn? That was probably one of those metaphor things that Lucas was better at giving a crap about. Having a Pokémon stuck in his chest that let him see spirits?
Yeah, Barry had nothing. It was easier to mark Hilby as a 'tough crowd' in his head and focus on the simpler parts of his comedy routine.
Dixie was smart, no doubt about it, but her personality- aside from being shit (definitely the worst girl, in Lucas's terms)- put her solidly in the audience that would only laugh at jokes after extensive set-up or if they required background knowledge. It was Lucas that was better with the complex jokes that required like a bajillion IQ to understand and would fly over the average watcher's head… or however that forum meme went. What were the odds that she was chosen by Uxie? That sounded like some once in a lifetime luck that would inspire you to write a memoir, not just something that could be pointed out on a whim-
No, no, he could blame that more of Hilby having an aura of Ponyta shit around him at all times. The 'small things' to him were Events and Incidents and Similarly Capitalized Proper Nouns to anyone else, if what Barry had heard about Fuego Ironworks was true.
Things like Lucas getting kidnapped by Lucario. Barry was still dreading that, because everything else Hilby had said was true in a sense and there hadn't been a kidnapping yet. Lucario were to action movies as Kalosian maids were to Lucas' shitty light novels, and the fact that none of the latter had shown up yet made Barry look into immigration laws.
Uh, the point… Yeah, Hilby was crazy but he wasn't usually wrong. Lucas was due for a hot-blooded training montage in a near-but-undefined future. Barry was unfortunately due for jack shit and he knew it.
Until that actually became a problem: what were the odds that they would run into an actual woman (cope harder, Dixie) that was already friends with Hilby and was totally on board with joining their traveling crew? Not that Barry would complain about getting more nakama or whatever, but (again, nickname pending) Cheryl was about as naive as he pretended to be for the bit. What were the odds of someone being about as prudish as a 19th century Galarian in modern Sinnoh? More importantly, what were the odds that she had drawn out an entire road map of ruins and legendary locales to explore that happened to perfectly match the route the lab trainers were already taking through Sinnoh? He and Lucas had intentionally planned to retrace their steps so they could train and recover between the harsher gym battles. Her coming up with the exact same idea wasn't impossible, but just because something was possible didn't mean that it made sense.
But, hey, the day Barry found out about a Being of Luck would be the day he started actually praying.
Life was full of coincidences, as he'd heard more than enough times in his youth. Seriously, what were the odds that there was something lurking behind the scenes that could pull strings across the world? The idea was completely ridiculous, like something out of Lucas' crappy light novels.
"This feels like something out of one of my light novels," Lucas grumbled, before spitting gravel out of his mouth and rolling to his feet. "Why did it have to be one of the cultivation ones?"
The Lucario standing over growled at him. Where the fur would have normally been blue and black, it was dull navy and heavy gray. The spike on its chest was obscured by a massive tuft. In the first days of sparring, Lucas had attempted to use it to gain leverage only to have his hand ripped open as if he'd grabbed a handful of razor wire.
The aged Pokémon growled again, stamping on the ground. The air rippled with aura he could feel and hear, if not see, and Lucas understood that he was being reprimanded for wasting his breath.
Hunched over like a junkyard dog with his clothes torn to scraps and his bruised forearms raised, discipline having been pounded into him physically, mentally, and spiritually, his mind still wandered elsewhere.
What Lucas really wanted to know was how he got himself into his current situation. In the back of his mind, he wanted it to be Hilbert's fault, but that would justify Dawn's… comments, he termed them carefully. He relied on Barry to call things what they were- things like whining.
It wasn't fair that of the four of them that had been captured, he was the only one that had been forced into training.
But that's getting ahead a bit.
Their journey was perfectly normal until they had arrived in Eterna. The rest of their stay in Jubilife had made it clear that aside from irresponsible production companies, it was just a city. Floaroma was a town. Eterna was a city too.
But apparently the Galactic Industries building in Eterna had been shut down just before they arrived. There were Pokémon held in captivity that had been released just as they were leaving. One of those Pokémon was a Riolu, one that seemed to have escaped from whatever medical facility it was being treated in if the bandages mummifying it were any indication.
It screeched at him unintelligibly and after a few minutes of Lucas not getting it, the Riolu decided to stick by his side.
The lab trainers cum Cheryl got as far as Cycling Road, the Riolu backseat driving on Lucas's shoulders, before he was tackled by a herd of Lucario faster than he could blink.
The hours afterwards were a haze. Apparently, aura wasn't just another word for ki or spirit power or cursed energy (or whatever they called it on television) but an actuality. He had a strong enough aura that he soon started being able to understand the Lucario as the misunderstanding was cleared up. There wasn't much he could do as they decided to train him as one of their own and turn the humans into cargo as they ran back towards their nest. Was it offensive to call it a nest? It was more like a tribal village than any nest he had ever seen. Lucas was smart enough not to point that out.
Though that may have been the concussion. Nothing a bit of aura couldn't fix, as he soon learned.
So he got stuck training his aura powers while Barry lounged around, Cheryl pestered any member of the species that gave her the time of day with questions of the blink-twice-if-yes variety, and Dawn (based on the last time he saw her) was attempting to lecture a cohort of young Riolu on the metals section of the periodic table.
There was a sudden blur as a spiked fist was driven into his gut, sending him sprawling to the dirt and into a battle against throwing up.
The elder Lucario snarled at him again.
"Live like living silver," Lucas heard through the growl. A drop of gray against a rippling chrome surface echoed in his mind. "Do not waver. If you, another human which wields our power, has been brought into this world, it means that there are things to come which none could ever dream of. You must focus! Do not think of the finger that points to the lights in the sky. Think of the New Moon which you must grow strong enough to fight!"
…Hilbert had warned him about something like this, hadn't he?
Damn.
Lucas spat into a patch of grass and moved to stand.
Sitting on a bench on one of the quieter trails in Amity Square, Marley combed her fingers through the thick fur on Shaymin's back. Each strand was wide like a blade of grass yet soft like a tuft of cotton, slipping around her skin like a warm midsummer breeze.
She had once asked the mythical Pokémon why they enjoyed being treated like a simple household pet. They replied that she ought not to ask stupid questions and to continue scratching behind their ears.
At the moment, she was doing so to distract herself as much as she was to please the Legendary.
"I am… unsure of how to proceed," she said. It was not rare that she sought guidance from Shaymin, but doing so for situations involving others was somewhat uncommon.
A coaxing, gentle rose scent wafted upwards.
"He is not well. I fear that we may be pushing him too far, may have pushed him too far. I am troubled."
There was a curious scent like tree sap.
"I worry that if he continues on this path, he may grow all too eager to throw his life away before his time comes. His dreams, the dreams you have told me about are vague, are they not?"
Shaymin yipped, smelling of sweet honey.
Marley hummed in agreement. "How can he be sure of how the world will end? If he is wrong and dies too soon, it may rob the world of a hero worthy of Gratitude before the end truly comes."
Rotted flowers decaying before sprouting and blooming again, an unending cycle.
"Yes, it is as you say. Necessary. We must encourage him towards this fate. But I do worry. Is it possible that he achieves this end but that we save him? Must we lose him at all?"
The pollen of roses tickled her nostrils.
She had the decency to look embarrassed. "I do not wish him to die. I find things as they are… pleasant. I enjoy our banter and watching his growth. Nothing more and nothing less."
In the distance, she could just barely make out the tents and stalls of what she assumed to be a flea market. Maybe they could find something worthwhile?
Shaymin prodded her further, puffing up like cattails.
"He can't grow without conflict. Something must push him forwards. That is the way he is, the way all people are." She paused. "Perhaps the taunting goes too far, yes."
Shaymin argued that it didn't go far enough. The boy was too rude for a being such as they to tolerate, they said through a souring odor.
"Maybe that is the case." She idly ran her hands through Shaymin's fur for a minute. Music and the sound of haggling carried well enough through the park. "His battle was quite impressive. Those following him on the GTS seem to think so," Marley said, before smirking. "I do believe he is unaware of his following."
Shaymin poked her again with the impression of dulled thorns.
"It will be funnier if he discovers it on his own." She turned her attention towards the source of the noise. "That flea market. Would you like to take a look?"
Shaymin puffed out a scent of salted sunflower seeds.
Marley nodded before gently transferring the Pokémon to their basket and rising from the bench.
Topic - Sinnoh - Indiv Trainers - Hilbert Kuroiwa
AlolaVera: You've got to be kidding me. Was that a motherfucking Z-move?
DuraDuraludon: Mods, crush his skull, thank you.
HelloSwellow (Mod): Done.
NeonGengarEvangastlyon: I give up. Ping me when the conference rolls around so I remember to bet on black, my heart can't take much more than this.
LuxuriousRays: What's a Z-move?
SmeargleSketchyMcSketchface: A Z-Move is what Alolans call a strong move that supposedly feeds off of a trainer and a Pokémon's power simultaneously. I'm no expert but that last attack had the energy of an 10,000,000 Volt Thunderbolt 'til it turned into a Steel-type move. I haven't seen one of those since February of '96.
WingulliversTravels: Steel-type? Nah, gotta be Ground-type. Kuroiwa's a Ground-type specialist, y'know?
DuraDuraludon: And I'm the Queen of Galar.
AverageFuecocoEnjoyer: FUEGO ESTÁ NÚMERO UNO!
UmHaxorully: All of those items cannot be legal, I refuse to believe it.
UmHaxorully: Gym Leaders have supreme authority over item use in their gyms unless an inspector stops by. Which Kuroiwa definitely is. I mean, come on, look at him.
NeonGengarEvangastlyon: Fantina probably gave him permission, don't nitpick.
AlolaVera: Not valid in a conference, my Sharpedo could probably take him down a peg.
BlackStar: Are we still doing this conspiracy theory Ponyta shit? Listen, Kuroiwa's just a lab trainer. A weird one, sure, but he's not an inspector of some secret section of Interpol. He's nothing special in the grand scheme of things.
DuraDuraludon: At least it's not another Henson situation.
BlackStar: Gods, I would hope not.
LuxuriousRays: I'm confused, is Kuroiwa dropping out of the circuit?
TheAllSeeingXatu (Original Poster): What happened is that Kuroiwa ran into Fantina when she had arrived back from abroad, she accused him of stealing a Pokémon, and he snapped at her and issued a challenge for her gym leadership. He changed his mind near the end of the battle. It's possible that he would have lost if Fantina didn't want to give the crowd a show.
GoJoGogoat: Nah, he'd win.
The days of training passed as they were wont to, though Hilbert spent many hours fussing over Sinistea as they recovered rather than micromanaging. It was for the best.
If he were a general, he would be the sort that relied on individual intelligence rather than extensive planning and dogmatic adherence to orders. He was no normal human, but the superhuman ability of the latter was beyond even his reach.
Yuki, with the intelligence that being formerly human granted her, took this opportunity to learn more about her teammates. Over the few days previously, she attempted to converse with the other spirits. Machamp was polite, though his spirit was nervously shrinking away from her, as if merely occupying the same square meter would shatter her. Shuppet was all too willing to take up some of her time, though it was odd how the Poochyena asked to borrow a sharpened icicle. Drifloon was annoyingly dismissive, though it wasn't a problem some frostbite couldn't fix.
That left Fuego.
As she approached the Fire-type, she watched as repeatedly compressed their spirit into a singular white-hot orb, allowing the gaps in their armor to become visible for a few seconds before setting it free in a burst of heat.
As the pillar of fire died down, she made her approach clear.
Fuego turned towards her, tapping their helmet with the tip of their blade as if saluting.
"Ho there. What can I do for you?"
That was a surprise to Yuki. Making conversation using actual words as a spirit wasn't the easiest. It appeared that Fuego had practiced.
"I thought that at some point, we ought to speak casually." Yuki waved her sleeve towards the others' training spots. "We are in this together, as they say."
"True enough." Not one to drop everything so easily, Fuego began going through forms with their blades, channeling their spiritual energy inwards or away from Yuki. "Are there any pressing matters?"
"I wish to understand why you have chosen to accompany Hilbert."
Fuego did not immediately answer. They burned away impurities on their blade, melting down specks of rawer metal and scattering them in the dirt. Steam rose from the molten bearings as they cooled.
"I am a weapon to be wielded," they explained. "That is the only glory that one such as I may earn. My essence is not that of earthen magma, nor of the peaceful hearth. It is the heat of the smithery which has reforged my body and a dream from on high which has reborn my soul. What other purpose can there be for myself than battle?"
Yuki would have raised an eyebrow if she still had them. She inched the cloth above her eyes upwards. "Battling is your purpose. Is it that simple?"
"I am a simple being. You may have your human hungers. Keep them. I do not want any. I desire only that I am not discarded or forgotten, that I may hang over the mantleplace of history forever." Fuego tilted his sword, as if considering his position. By coincidence, he was pointing towards Hilbert. "Though if it is simply his mantleplace, I will have no complaints. Unless his descendants turn out to be brats. In which case, I will have to duel any bad influences to the death."
Yuki wasn't sure if the Fire-type had just made a joke or not. There was irony, the Ice-type recognized, in that the only spirit she could have a meaningful conversation with was the one that was physically her opposite.
Wait, what did they mean by bad influences?
She shook her head. Golett was stuck with Hilbert, both literally and figuratively, and as such hadn't been able to get a great handle on their personality or motives. Machamp followed Hilbert seeking redemption. Sinistea followed him out of some sort of older-brother worship. Shuppet followed him to advertise. Drifloon followed him reluctantly on orders from their forebearer.
"How can you make such a commitment to a boy you've hardly grown to know?" And the individual she aligned herself with was a boy, by her standard if not legally.
"To a warrior, a knight, soldier, or otherwise, there is some dishonor in needing to be saved," Fuego said. "There is greater dishonor in leaving the debt unpaid. My heart beats as a suit of armor clangs. My fire lingers as a sheathe of platemail shields. My body is made out of swords. To be a warrior is my essence, my singular purpose as a being. It is my choice to follow that purpose in the same manner as he. The King Beyond Death must wield an equally immortal blade, you might say."
"You would call him a king?" And in such terms as well? Utterly shameless.
"Ah. Perhaps I have gotten ahead of myself." Fuego shook their head and made a gravelly sound like a chuckle. "As being a warrior is in my essence, so is identifying hierarchies and those who might ascend them. Once you grow to think in a certain manner, it becomes a difficult habit to break. Somewhat childish, you might say. My apologies."
Yuki glared. "Nothing lasts forever. Not even history. Certainly not family," she said, venom slipping into her voice without realizing it. She put herself back in order. "How can you say that you would fight on forever? Do you have any idea what you're declaring? In a world like this, what could you possibly do that would amount to anything?"
Fuego raised a blade and looked down the edge as if they were sighting a rifle. "What could you?"
AN:
There has to be some irony in delaying lore until an interlude only to realize that there's not enough of importance to write about. I don't have an excuse for the gap in updates, I haven't written much over winter break, so I apologize for that. Setting up a timeline, Hilda left Unova between arcs one and two and is still searching elsewhere, the lab trainers arrived in Eterna just after Hilbet's anonymous tip got followed up on and got kidnapped by envoys of the Lucario Kingdom a little after Hilbert arrived in Hearthome.
I'm aware that aura-MC trope can be a massive turnoff for some people so rest assured that the focus is going to stay on Hilbert and he's not going to gain any new powers. This is mostly setting up stuff for future arcs.
Thanks for reading!