10.

The FɅntasy Goes Wrong


"NIGHT SHADE!"

A deafening boom shook the earth, and Cyllene stumbled as she sawed the ropes away from Ginter with the dagger.

She had never sawed ropes off an old man with a dagger before. Injured hands made it hard. Ginter's squirming made it harder. Then, of course, was the dark energy radiating out from Charm's Gengar, which floated a hundred feet up in the air like a bloated black smudge and grinned deviously, spying her all too clearly in its realm of shadow and chills.

"Just so you know," the old man rasped, "it's not just a bag full of socks."

"Leg warmers, too?" Cyllene asked, raising hairless brows and wedging two fingers between the rope and his stomach so there was more room to saw without cutting him.

"Forget I said anything. Just free me."

She waved the blade up in his face. "I saved your life, coot. Have some respect."

"Oh, absolutely!" he stressed, straining to sit up so she could get at the rough fibers better. "A bandit was actually going to stab me! And you pushed her in the fire! That was fun!"

He was genuinely grinning about it, blinking through a blur of ashy tears. Cyllene sliced through the last of the rope binding his arms to his sides. His ankles were still bound, however. There was that merman Charm conjured. Wizened and filthy. A princess's dream.

"Glad one of us had fun," she said. Then she threw herself down over his body as Gengar launched another Night Shade.

The stars were put out behind a veil, and freezing pressure struck her spine in waves. She buckled, wrapping her arms around Ginter tight and pressing him firm against the frosted grass. He was struggling to breathe; she could feel her own heartbeat all the way up in her throat.

"H-hurts!" she gasped.

"What a witch," Ginter whispered, lips way too close to her ears. His whole body was slicked in cold, musty sweat, and she flinched wherever the holes in the fabric let it through to touch her.

At that, Cyllene wept. A dark bolt knocked her right between the shoulder blades, replacing any and all of that former warmth with a numbness that squeezed tight around her ribs and tore at her nerves. Her arms gave out, and she fell onto Ginter completely, not caring when he wriggled out from beneath her and her body went totally limp.

Ginter snatched up the dagger from the grass, quickly slicing through the rope around his ankles, and shakily stood to brandish it as the ghost floated near. Charm marched right behind, her face paint forming blades on her cheeks beneath the bruise forming on her forehead. Her purple eyes almost glowed.

"Not another step forward," Ginter said, the fingers of his left hand tingling as he tried to aim the blade right between the creature's red eyes.

"Fine," said the bandit, making a sign so the drooling Gengar retreated behind her. "But she's not going to survive here any longer than you are. Sinnoh is a cruel and unmerciful god. It will watch us all die and do nothing to help us."

"Do you think Sinnoh would want to help a witch who uses her partner's powers for evil?"

"Whatever."

"Give me my pack."

"My dagger first."

"I'll keep the dagger. Now, the pack."

Charm scowled. With another motion, Gengar floated in front of her. Then she turned her back and began slowly moving toward the ashes to retrieve Ginter's pack. Ginter stood still as stone, the other hand curling up to grasp at his bare chest through the loose, shredded fabric.

He watched as she picked up the pack by one strap. Tensed when she began to come toward him again. Flicked his eyes to Cyllene, who was caught in some frightening mirage and sobbing softly into the grass.

"You know I can't fight you for it," Ginter said as Charm approached. The pack was almost within reach now. "You can respect that, I'm sure."

The woman scrutinized him, trying to make out those same scars and wrinkles in the dim, pale moonlight.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

Ginter's face hardened. His eyes flicked to Cyllene once more. Then he leaned in close, angling the dagger and gesturing for the pack.

"I am no one you need to remember," he murmured. "And you hopefully won't when I'm gone."

Charm's lips pursed. Slowly, as Gengar sneered and the air grew freezing between them, the pack exchanged hands, and the dagger dropped to the ground.

"Now, I'm going to take Cyllene, and we're going to turn our backs on you. I trust you and Gengar will let us leave in peace."

"I trust you'll keep whatever the hell it is you're hiding away from her and everyone else in that godforsaken village."

"But of course. I'm a merchant of my word," said Ginter, a small smirk forming. "And just so it's fair, you won't tell anyone what you really saw that morning in the dark by the river."

The bandit's eyes widened, but when she opened her mouth to reply, her whole body seized. Crystals grew from her eyelashes. Ice slipped up over her legs.

Suddenly, it was like an avalanche from nothing! A veritable wall of a snowstorm poured over the fearsome bandit. Howling winds swirled through the air. Hailstones bit at the ground. In seconds, Charm was lost in white, while not too far off, a fat, furry, bearded beast reeled back its head and prepared to launch another stream of icy breath.

"We are such stuff as dreams are made of!" sang Clover, the sleepwalking girl, whose crooked posture, dangling arms and blank expression proved she was still sleepwalking, and in that stupor deciding to summon her Abomasnow and throw down on her own sister in crime.

She cackled as her great white Pokémon became wreathed in ice, then sent another round of it roaring over Charm. When the mists cleared, she and Gengar were locked in a frosted block of ice. Ginter jumped back, slinging the pack over both shoulders and stooping down to where Cyllene lay shivering. He wrenched his arms beneath her back and legs, then strained to lift her, wincing and coming down hard on his rump at a sudden sharp pain in his chest.

Now Cyllene looked to be in agony. Face all twisted, tears streaming, body curled up like she was hiding from the night itself.

Ginter's face grew grim. "Please forgive me," he whispered.

He turned back to Clover, now bouncing over as gracefully as one could without her wits about her. With one finger to her lips, she pointed to the remains of the fire with the other and beckoned.

"Don't give me your nonsense when my friend Cyllene is suffering."

But she was whining at him, bulging eyes and smile all aglow. Reluctantly, Ginter lifted himself and trundled over, picking up the dagger again when he remembered the third sister was still lying injured among the ashes.

But just beyond the mud and dust, there lay another sight hidden. Something that had gone unnoticed and unseen amidst the stress of blades and flames and fairytales. Something bundled up and squirming like a tree full of Wurmple.

Something misplaced. Something loved. Something a skilled enough bandit had snatched as easily as an old man's pack.

A broad, bright smile spread on that old man's face, all of his mangled teeth showing.

"You've got quite the collection here, don't you?" he asked the frenzied girl.

Clover swiped the dagger right out of his hands. In a few quick strokes, she freed her own prisoners.

Zisu lay sleeping normally — whatever frenzy having worn off some hours before. Meanwhile, the little blue catlike creature gave a delighted squeal, dashing over and leaping up into his master's arms like a glittering ball of sparks. Ginter hugged him as tightly as he could to his chest. He nuzzled one whiskered cheek into another and sighed in a shuddering sort of relief.

"Oh, Shinx. At least we're still together."

Shinx flashed his fangs and bit him.


Cyllene was furious.

They were stupid, selfish reasons to be furious, and she'd never tell anyone, least of all anyone involved, but in the moment, every single one of them was valid.

No one carried my dead body into the village. I had to limp in all by myself, conscious and shivering the whole time.

I didn't have any flowers in my hair.

Ginter was showing more skin than me. He also smelled worse than me, and that's what everyone noticed.

The Commander cared more about yelling at the Supply Corps and listening to idiots whinge about stockpiling for winter than acknowledging my courage. I let that Gengar make me believe my bones were shattering. Has he ever done that!?

"Abra," she voiced, lying on her back on her futon in a clean blue robe with one elbow draped over her eyes. "Can you learn the move Heal Pulse? And does it work on cramps?"

As always, Abra was silent. It had finally pinched enough razzberry leaf into the little egg-shaped infuser with its claws, and now it screwed the two halves into place with its mind, (and swept away all the excess with its tail.)

One steaming bowl of tea and another blanket floated over to the woman, who groaned as she sat up and very carefully snatched it out of the air to sip. A bit of warmth washed down her throat and made her shiver. She pulled the blankets around her shoulders and stared into the murky yellow liquid, her mind in a haze.

Abra slurped its own bowl right down, bouncing in the air. It preferred hot tea over beer. Not something Eiffel would care to put in his Poké Dex, but a curious fact nonetheless.

"Do you think I would've sleepwalked… Sleptwalked? Do you think I would've walked in my sleep again if I'd been asleep last night? Did I look all creepy and say strange things when I sleeping-walked? And why was Zisu sleepwalking too? And that bandit girl? Could it be a sickness going around?"

She thought of Ginter. She thought of touching Ginter's skin, and probably breathing in the same air he'd just breathed out.

"Well, they can't put that on a tablet outside the village walls. 'Our Invaluable Scrivener Cyllene Selenelion died after an indirect kiss with the ratty old Ginkgo Man who infected the rest of us shortly after.'"

Just then, there came a light tap on her door.

"And there's the next adventure," she sighed, flopping back down and curling uncomfortably into a ball.

None of my bones are actually broken. It was an illusion. Just a frightening mirage. A Ghostly move called Night Shade.

"Captain?" came a voice from outside.

Cyllene sat bolt-upright.

"Cyllene? Are you feeling better? If not, I can return later."

"Accursed!" she swore, standing up and traipsing slowly to the threshold, the blanket wrapped around her shaking shoulders.

She slid the door open a crack. There Ginter stood. Scruffy. Disheveled. In a shirt and trousers he'd clearly borrowed from Eiffel because they were far too wide and too short for his lean stature. And yet he was smelling noticeably nicer. The stink was gone, at least.

"You have a new cap," said Cyllene.

Ginter smiled, thumbing the brim. "I had an extra one. And your clothier is mending my coat and breeches."

"Well… Good you care at least a little about your appearance…"

"The professor showed me where I could finally take a bath. It was refreshing. No more piss smell!"

"Lovely… What do you need me for?"

"May I come in? If you're not feeling sick, of course."

"Are you diseased?"

"I'm actually feeling much better. I needed some clean air in my lungs after the fire the other night. Also to stop rationing my medicine. It took a toll on me. I won't do it again."

She raised her stubbly brows. "Your special medicine?"

"Very special."

"So special I can assume it's somewhere in your pack, along with your sock and Hisui's doom?"

Ginter scowled and held a finger to his lips. Cyllene just shook her head, sliding the door open just a bit wider, so he could come in. As expected, the pack was on his back. Slightly wriggling, even. A tuft of blue fur was poking up through where the dagger had sliced the top flap. Not even wiping his boots, Ginter plopped himself down around the steaming pot of tea in the center of the floor. With just enough discretion, he unbuckled the strap so Shinx could come tumbling out of the pack, then buckled it tightly again.

"We had special medicine in Hoenn, too," Cyllene was saying, throwing one of her blankets down over the beer bottles stashed against one side of the storage trunk. "The charlatans smoked it in kiseru pipes. Luckily Zisu was smart enough to refuse it."

"Are you really still feeling unwell?" Ginter asked. "I don't want to intrude if you're in pain. That was very evil of that woman to strike you with a Night Shade. At least it wasn't a Spite or Curse. Or a Poison-type move."

Shinx snarled. It swiped sharp claws at where Abra's tail hung swinging. Sparks fizzled in its fur, and its star-shaped tail began to glow and pulse with anger.

Abra floated upwards teasingly. It stretched out all six claws, and Shinx was wrapped in a faint aura that lifted it and dropped it right into Ginter's lap. The old man wrenched it over on its back and began to pat and stroke its belly. It snarled more, thrashing and biting the fingers with fangs that crackled and popped with static.

Ginter frowned. He took off his cap and whipped it against the back of Shinx's head. Shinx whined, body shuddering and golden eyes shining in the dimness of the room.

"Behave," Ginter growled. "You are better than this."

"Please don't let it start a fire in my quarters," Cyllene said, picking crumbs of loose leaf tea off the floor.

Ginter sighed. "But you trust him, at least?"

"I trust that you've trained him."

Content with her spot-cleaning, she came to sit opposite him around the little fire in the floor. She tipped part of the tea pot over the flames and watched the smoke pour up into the shaft on the ceiling. Then she poured him a bowl and sprinkled some crumbs in it, knowing the infuser would spill them into the water anyway.

Ginter sipped, winced, then drank it all down in one gulp.

"Captain Cyllene, I wanted to thank you, more formally, for saving my life. And to tell you I feel terrible about having put you in danger. If I had a choice, I wouldn't have sought refuge in your village at all. But I am old, and dying, and Shinx, though he may be mighty, is too small and wild to protect me from everything out there. The truth is, something dreadful has happened to him, and it's become hard for him to follow my commands."

Cyllene nodded, hardly believing what she heard.

"Aren't you scared?" she asked.

He scratched his beard and sighed once more. "Yes, though perhaps not as much as I should be. I can become quite fond of danger when I'm in the midst of it, and pushing boundaries. My own mortality hasn't occurred to me much until recently. Death feels like something I could overcome if I wanted, silly as it sounds. Do you think of yours often?"

She thought of her fantasy. Lying limp and lifeless in the middle of the village, birds screaming, the sky turning red, Kamado breaking his knuckles and wailing like a demon over her prone form, Eiffel drowning himself in shame of never loving her, the Elder Gods of Hoenn rending sea and earth in mourning, Hisui crumbling, hot springs erupting from lava plumes deep underground and washing everyone away…

"Perhaps more than I should," she admitted.

"Is there something I can do to help?"

You don't have to help, she wanted to say. My mortal fantasy is my own private affair, least of all of interest to a coot in a cap who…

"No. But you're welcome," she said. "For saving you. Me saving you. And protecting you from Gengar. And… thank you for staying with me until I woke up."

"You don't have to thank me for basic human decency," Ginter replied. "I still feel terrible, though. Tell me, how many of those sacred Hisuian favors do I owe you? A two-for-one? How about a package deal? I can bargain."

Cyllene shifted. This felt… strange. More than strange. Ginter. Thanking her. Asking what he owed her. Admitting she hurt herself for his sake. Calling it human decency to make sure nothing else happened… and feeling guilty for taking a favor he didn't deserve in the first place…

Perhaps it was the cramps. Perhaps it was the remnant of a nightmare. Perhaps it was the heat in her face, or the missing flowers, or the image of Kamado's broken hands, or the fear of disease she'd just invited into her room…

"You will eat with me," she told him, swallowing the knot in her throat and clenching her jaw to keep from crying. "At the Wallflower. Tomorrow for breakfast. That is all you owe."

"All I owe?"

He looked confused, the scratching hand coming down to rest on one knee while the other held a struggling Shinx in place. "Are you sure that's all you want? You could put me to work, you know. Make me put in some effort for once. I shouldn't be lazing about in the wagon all day when I feel good."

She watched as Shinx bit his hands over and over, until he scritched at its spine and it yowled.

"Yes," she said. "That is all I want, for now."

She balked at clarifying. Companionship. Friendship? Friendship... with a man... But he's… not going to be here long…

"He's going to bite a finger off," she told him then, getting up and moving to the storage trunk. She still had to have some among the fascinators. Eiffel had wanted some earlier, though she didn't open the door for him.

"Here," she said, handing Ginter a Poké Ball. "Lift the latch on the front and let Shinx go inside. It'll make him feel safe, and you'll be able to carry him easier."

She demonstrated by opening Abra's Poké Ball and letting the creature dissipate into steam, then sucking it in.

Ginter straightened his back, beaming and baffled at the little invention he held.

"Did you make these yourself?"

"Poké Balls? Everyone in the Survey and Security Corps knows how to craft them. I'm surprised you don't already use one, being a Ginkgo Man. When supplies were low, we used to buy them from you by the wagonload. Though, I think the Hisuian apricorns are made of stronger wood."

He looked at her with that crooked smile.

"Will you teach me how to craft a Poké Ball?"

Cyllene nodded. "Of course. But use that one in your hand to capture Shinx right now."

"Oh, but I want to capture him in a Poké Ball I made myself!"

"You can. After you stop that thing from eating your fingers."

"No! It must be the first one I make!"

He stood up, cradling Shinx under one armpit and rubbing his fingers over the smooth, rounded wood of the one he held.

"Then I'll see you at breakfast. Bring an unspoiled apricorn and a chunk of black tumblestone. I'll bring the cutters and paints."

Ginter gave a short, rumbling laugh. "You've got yourself a deal. First thing tomorrow, all right?"

"Right. I'll see you then. Don't be late. Don't be sleepy. Don't you dare make other plans."

He tipped his cap at her and slid open the door.

"Rest well, Captain! It's good to see you're persevering!"

Cyllene gave an awkward smile back and slid it closed behind him, then sliding down the wall and clutching her stomach until she was limp on the floor again.

"Watch me, old man."


and the gray is all you see...


~N~

Beobachten Sie mir bitte, if you will.

Next chapter: Something that actually happens in the game! :D

Published by Syntax-N on FanFiction . Net July 8th, 2023. Please don't repost. Please do review!