31.
Cyllene the GɅlɅxy BrɅin
*mild gore warning
Zisu stood doubled, hands gripping her knees and a sheen of sweat pouring off her forehead. Her breath came in thrilling, rhythmic gasps. Her legs were hot. Her shoulders throbbed. She tasted dust. Her scarlet curls were slick with grease, and when at last she turned her eyes to the midday sun, she felt the miles of sprinting through forest and seashore slide clean off her, save for the lingering sound of her bare feet beating the sand.
"Faster and stronger than ever," said her husband, impressed. He continued to appraise Zisu's form all over. She was without a jacket, chest wrapped in canvas, and her tanned shoulders bulged on either side of a fearsome grin. Bonn gripped them with his huge hands, and she leaned playfully into his touch.
"I've already written back to the Commander, and I promised him the perfect candidate for his Security Corps, if you're up for it."
"I'm so excited," Zisu said, leaning in to peck him on the lips. "What about Cyllene? Did you mention her too?"
They both turned their heads. Bonn's eyes narrowed traced the shorter, skinnier girl who was still hovering on the edge of the training camp, talking to herself and scraping lichen off a tree with a stick. A bit of Wurmple silk had become tangled in her long blue braid, and she screeched when her fingers became sticky trying to pry it out.
"We're not taking her with us," said Bonn. "If she's scared of Wurmple, she won't be able to handle the waste of Hisui."
"She can get used to the wilderness," Zisu insisted. "Besides, how many people on this expedition will be able to read and write? A team like Kamado's needs scriveners to keep track of things."
Bonn grunted, considering these words. But after a minute, he spoke to Zisu again, sternly:
"You'll watch Cyllene die, Zisu. She'll get sick, or be attacked, or get us attacked by the Pokémon who run rampant in the waste. Are you okay with seeing her dead someday? Have you made peace with that?"
Zisu flared her nostrils and argued back.
"I'm not abandoning her. I can't."
"Then we'll have to stay in Hoenn. You can protect her here. Not in Hisui where no one cares about poetry."
Lady Sneasler pounced.
Cyllene was too late to react. She flung up her arms and shrieked, and the next moment her bare foot had tripped over the sandaled one and her elbows swung sorely into the desolate dirt of Moonview Arena.
An arc of gold shifted above her, descending quick as lightning until it crashed into the dirt just feet away. The light was radiant and blinding — much brighter than when she was drunk on the power of the Red Chain. It stung her eyes even while she shielded them, then pierced through the fabric. Bled through the flesh and bones of her arms—
"GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" screamed Clover.
And then she choked, voice cut off to a high-pitched gurgle.
Cyllene stole a glance. Then she faltered. She couldn't help but watch the next scene play out, though the sound of it had her closing her eyes, just for a second.
There was a rough, sudden inhale, like a windpipe had been kicked in, and the THUD of a body hitting the ground. The audible wet CRUNCH of something breaking. A rib? A neck? A skull? Probably a skull, with how loud and obvious it was.
Another look through the reddening arena. Cyllene's muscles clenched, but she sat totally still. Three hooked poison claws as long as skis dug beneath the dirty gray wraps keeping Clover's breasts concealed.
Now she screeched. Something meaningless. Something she would yell in a dream and then forget. Cyllene threw herself up onto both bare feet and stumbled headfirst toward the great scrawny beast bathed in sunlight. Her right fist readied for a punch. Her left wrist flickered red with the magic of the Chain.
But her body felt… loose. Uncoordinated. Tired and unwilling and annoyed and—
CRUNCH.
It was one swift movement. Sneasler tore down easily into each side of Clover's ribcage, cracking and prying it open. Bands of cloth burst into flame. Flesh melted — curling and flaking — and the bandit's blood vaporized on contact, while the rest of her soft skin purpled and paled from the poison.
She was already dead. The fight was over.
Ingo sat atop his ruined pillar, mock-amused.
They turned sixteen that year. Changing from girls to young women — bolder and seeking true adventures.
"CYLLENE!"
Cyllene refused to move. She was focused on the glass-green swirling of the creek beneath her. Another egg dropped from her outstretched hand and plopped into the water, bobbing for a few seconds before it surfaced. Its smooth, greenish shell had become shiny in the twilight, and it was carried swiftly off by the gentle current under the moldering wooden bridge she was sitting on and into the forest.
The bad ones floated, Zisu had told her, and the ones in the bucket were mostly bad, although some had sunk into the muck at the bottom, eluding the current entirely.
"Cyllene. Get up. MOVE! THERE'S A RHYDON!"
"Where!?" Cyllene burst out, interest taken finally. She got to her feet and tried to locate a Rhydon's thick gray hide. But the shadows were thickening, and she couldn't make out anything.
"We have to GO!" Zisu forced, grabbing her hand.
"But I don't see it! Where is it!?"
The shadows seemed solid. Cyllene saw nothing, though she squinted through the sunset. A Rhydon would be large — horns bobbing and tail whipping through the undergrowth.
She was torn from speculations immediately. Her feet squished in ancient wooden planks and padded over sheets of metal. She sprinted through sloppy, snowy reeds to where a swinging gate separated forest from the safety of the nearest field. Zisu cleared it in a single leap, then helped Cyllene clamber over. Breathless, both of them came to plop themselves beneath the thick trunk of an aspen, where the larger girl pressed her hand into Cyllene's collarbone to keep her still.
"I didn't see anything," Cyllene moaned, disappointed.
"Well, it wasn't good to keep searching for it. It was less than a hundred feet away."
"Then it was just crossing the river, not looking to rip apart two girls. It probably would've eaten the bad eggs if we threw them at it. Are Rhydon in Hoenn even that vicious?"
"You need to be more vigilant," Zisu said crossly.
Cyllene shifted out of Zisu's hold on her. A low growl escaped her throat, and she glared at the dry, dead grass.
Zisu persisted. "Your life is more important than getting to tell a story about how close you were to a Rhydon, Galaxy Brain. There are real dangers in this world. Bad people and merciless Pokémon. If you're just going to gawk at them, then I'm going to the Ginkgo Men and buying you a decent weapon."
Cyllene scoffed. "A waste of what scant money you have."
Indeed, the saber Zisu bought her sat within its sheath for nearly ten years before its blade was drawn.
Clover the bandit was dead. Killed in her sleep, like so many others.
Cyllene scanned the bloody carcass, spikes of ribs jutting up from crimson-painted sludge slowly bubbling beneath a coat of foaming poison. The black hair was still in braids, though disheveled. The face paint was smeared. The jaw hung open — broken and torn, but recognizable enough.
It was… confusing at best.
"Didn't you once push a different bandit into a fire?" Ingo asked casually. He sat like a long-legged spider now, lips set into a much more natural frown.
Cyllene's whole body was shaking. The world didn't seem real around her. The red sky was rippling. The very air and the ground beneath her feet seemed thin and heated, like something was desperately trying to claw its way out from any direction it could.
"Stop looking at me," she whispered. "Don't touch me."
The distortions released.
A girl lay mutilated in front of her, and somehow her carcass was hardly alarming. Cyllene had seen the one-eyed merchant bloated in the creek. She'd smelled Ginter's musty odor — counted the ribs around his hairy paunch and felt the power of his partner's lightning coursing through her body until she fell useless to the dried-out ground.
She'd changed Laventon and laughed.
Then done the same to adamaN.
And now this…
Blue paper taut between her fingers. Blue paper crumpling and spilling to the floor. Blue paper, crunching beneath her feet—
"You wanted to observe a murder," Ingo accused.
"I didn't," said Cyllene, shrugging away the vision.
"You would've fought if you feared for your own safety."
"I wasn't going to be quick enough."
"You expected defeat?"
To that, she couldn't answer. The pungent scent of blood surrounded her now. The purplish foam had already grown so thick that the body was decomposing rapidly beneath it. Slimy. Shrinking. Bones melting away like icicles and organs turning into sludge.
Sneasler was already climbing the cliff on the other side of the arena, completely disregarding what she'd done. Fueled by blood her golden aura brightened, lightning lancing from the tips of her claws as she snarled and scrambled up the sheer rock wall toward the rippling of the sky.
Cyllene chewed her lip. Her teeth tore into the soft wet flesh and ground together until the strip of skin was small enough to swallow.
"Tell me more about the Red Chain," she demanded.
"I can't. I don't remember it."
"Yes you do. That's why you're teasing me. You're being pretentious and condescending and I highly doubt you're really that indifferent to the end of the world."
"But I am," said Ingo. He slithered down from his perch. With a stooped back, he treaded carefully over to Cyllene, who backed up just as quickly with her shoulders straight and her chin held high. One of the creature's boots came down firmly on Clover's skull and it squished and collapsed like an old, rotted pumpkin.
"Perhaps I was meant to have some greater significance here," Ingo continued. "Not everything went to plan, in the beginning. I was the first thing The Original One created."
"Better," said Cyllene. Her eyes sharpened. The Red Chain began to writhe, snaking up her arm and squeezing tight around her shoulder until she nearly grimaced from the pressure on her still-healing scar.
"What did 'The Original One' want with you?"
"I wasn't told. There was… interference, and I was cast aside. All I know is I am an agent."
She raised a naked brow. "What's the golden circle? Is that your master? Is He Almighty Sinnoh?"
The silver eyes began to glow, and then, for once, Ingo's face contorted into something like true recollection, or perhaps more like terror. He snarled and gurgled in his throat. His fingers reshaped into claws, and he faltered in his approach.
"Almighty Sinnoh… Almighty Sinnoh is much bigger than you could ever comprehend. It was Almighty Sinnoh who witnessed the creation of this world. Saw the Red Chain binding Time and Space together… and then… from that one moment…"
His throat caught. Ingo refused to say any more, simply staring at Cyllene stupefied in a way that was seriously beginning to annoy her.
Cyllene huffed. She raised her left wrist, and the dried blood melted into glittering gore all along her sleeve.
"Bind him," she whispered.
"I am not so easily destroyed," said the creature.
"BIND HIM!" Cyllene roared, and the Red Chain broke from her body. It expanded and looped and spun around and around her, like a glittering hoop, until a wind began to stir beneath her feet and reddish lightning crackled between her fingers.
"BIND HIM!" she roared again.
Ingo barely flinched. Cyllene flicked both her hands inward, and the Chain snaked forth, biting into Ingo's limbs, this time wrapping tightly around his entire form and completely shredding his coat and tunic. Like before, his skin began to flake and burn. Vague bits of muscle writhed beneath. There came forth the idea of bones — vague white shapes never meant to be seen. The idea of tendons. The afterthought of ligaments and joints.
"Do you remember now?" she seethed, stepping forth. Forgetting about Sneasler and the carcass of Clover. Cyllene tugged at the air, and the Chain snapped even tighter. Ingo's form wavered. His right arm disintegrated. His silver eyes dulled to pale cream.
"You are cold, One Called Cyllene, for what I have seen of coldness. I am a lost agent in this world, yet I have chosen my loyalties, and now you have chosen yours."
"I'm sure iridA will understand, once she hears of your treachery."
"What is treachery? I meant you no harm. Besides, nullify me now and you'll never see Volkner again."
She tensed her lips.
"Who… is Volkner?" Cyllene whispered.
Ingo merely crackled as his limbless torso crumbled and tell to the ground in a heap. Anything he said became a muddled whisper, and then there was nothing more. Gracefully, Cyllene summoned the Red Chain back to her wrist, where it curled up warm and satisfied.
Now she felt alone beneath the red sky. The former Warden quickly fell completely into nothing, and when she pointed at it, it swept itself into a tiny shimmering ripple of Space and Time. Cyllene breathed in. Her shoulders were tight again. Her chest felt heavy. Her hands felt too large and unwieldy where they dangled at her thighs. But when she brought them up, they were the same hands she'd always known. Poised and slender. Just slightly burned and trembling, before even the burns began to waver and fade as minutes came undone.
"That… was intense," she said.
"It's not over yet," came a gravelly voice behind her.
"Oh, oh, accursed, GINTER!" Cyllene cried, whipping around. Ginter was standing tall and grave as ever, body already in position to command Luxio, who was sparkling purple with power in the light of the storm.
"We've still got a shot," the old man growled, cocking his head toward the far cliff, where Sneasler was pulling herself up and over the edge to horizontal ground. "Can you aim long-range?"
"I can try," said Cyllene.
"Good enough for now."
She looked at him, and Ginter smirked. Static had his hair in spikes. His muscles twitched. His beard was half smeared in mud. Turning to the frenzied Noble, he gave his right hand an almighty aiming flick. His left fist clenched behind his back, and in one heave he thrust his chest out and barked:
"THUNDERBOLT!"
Purplish lightning rocketed out from Luxio's maw, sparkling and splitting the atmosphere with a deafening POP-POP-POP! It struck Lady Sneasler true in the small of her back. She stumbled where she stood at the top of the cliff. Unfazed, yet distracted enough for Cyllene to finally strike.
"WRAP, ENTRAP AND MESMERIZE!"
She tried her own version of an extravagant command. The Chain broke off once more, spiraling upwards and stretching until it was long enough to ensnare its target all around her lanky limbs. Lady Sneasler screeched in pain. Her golden aura flared, and static crawled all along her body from her claws to the feather that dangled from her left ear.
Cyllene then took hold of the chain. She tugged. Yanked. But the Noble Pokémon was fighting hard, and her bare feet were dragged through the dust too easily.
"Can you help me!?" she called to Ginter.
The old man was shielding his eyes. "It'll hurt me, won't it!?"
"It won't! I promise! In fact, I think touching it will help protect you!"
"Protect me from what!?"
He shouldn't have said anything, Cyllene thought. Right at that moment, an angry red bolt shot out of the center of the storm and struck Ginter right between his shoulders. He buckled, clutching his stomach, and right when his gray hair began to turn white Cyllene snatched him by the sleeve and guided his hands to the chain.
"Help me pull Sneasler down!"
"Are you going to kill her!?" Ginter cried through gritted teeth. His skin was rippling now. Hair was white, then gray again, and then for one fleeting moment another light color Cyllene could've called a pale… yellow?
Together they pulled, straining their muscles until their lungs burned and their hearts throbbed loud in their throats. The Red Chain flickered, but held strong. It was Sneasler now who was struggling. Her frenzy was out of control. She whipped her claws and spat and spun, tangling herself up further in the magical bite.
"On three," Cyllene rasped. "One… two…"
Ginter heaved at two and a half, just as she expected, and Sneasler came flying back down into the crater of Moonview Arena, crashing unceremoniously into the dust with a snarl that sent shivers racing down Cyllene's spine.
This time, she sprinted to where the creature lay. The golden glow was hot, but no longer blinding. It seemed to be dimming, even, while the Chain grew ever brighter.
"Be nice," Cyllene told the Noble. "It hurts, but it must be working."
Cautiously, she kneeled down and placed a firm hand over the gem of Sneasler's chest.
"You were struck by the lightning too, weren't you? Just like Ginter and Luxio."
Sneasler mewled. Her body convulsed. The golden aura flared between the links of the Chain, shooting out like sunbeams and glittering like furious stars. But slowly — surely — the light of frenzy dissipated. The Red Chain flickered out, leaving only a few burnt patches of fur. Lady Sneasler lay dazed, breathing steadily and shivering.
"She's in shock," Ginter said, limping up behind with Luxio's help.
"She might be for a while. It's hard to describe, but I can feel knots of Space and Time untangling all over her. That must be what it's like for all the Nobles. They're confused. They don't know where they are, or maybe even what they are. Ginter... We did it! We quelled a frenzy!"
"We quelled a frenzy of Space," the old man repeated. "And Time."
"I…"
Cyllene's face fell. Sheepishly, she tried to hide the Chain again, but her bloody sleeve told everything.
"You don't have to explain. I'm just going with it like I have to go with everything else. That's what it's like to live with lightning in your blood. You go with things. Like being old. And your only friend in this time gaining strange powers out of nowhere. I'm tired. I'm… sorry. I'm sorry, Cyllene. I shouldn't have kissed you. That was ridiculous of me. I was getting all confused in the moment, and—"
She looked up at him sadly. He was still aged. Still so very obviously tired. Still trembling where he stood. Barely even able to stand.
"Volkner, if you wanted… With my powers, I could…"
Too tired to hear the suggestion. Already limping off in the other direction, toward the path that led out of this accursed arena down the mountain.
"Wait for me," Cyllene told him. "There's something I still have to do."
"I've got all the time in the world for you," Ginter grumbled.
Cyllene quickly withdrew the Red Chain, marching confidently over to where Clover's body was now nothing but a damp puddle of filth soaking into the ground.
"All right," she said, gritting her teeth and wanting to be anywhere else but the waste of Hisui.
"Let's bring her back, say… half an hour, and see where that leads."
Zisu nearly mourned the fatal slice. "You were so pretty!" she told Cyllene. "Why chop it all down to nothing!?"
"So a wild Pokémon doesn't catch its claws and drag me to the bottom of a lake," Cyllene answered calmly. "Do you want me to cut yours as well?"
Her friend just stared at her. It had been all smooth sailing to Hisui so far, nevermind a few drunken dreamers and fireworks. But Cyllene hadn't smiled once. Just looked out at the ocean — and at the island in the distance coming nearer. Gripped the hilt of her saber. Pushed her shoulders back. Glared.
Zisu shivered as a northern wind raced over the back of her neck. She let her red curls free of their binding, and at that moment, Cyllene stole away from the guardrail, toward where she could get indoors and out of the path of the spray.
Commander Kamado then approached, in his stark black chester coat. He was more put together back then. Like a respectable soldier. A leader to be feared. No hair out of place.
"She's quite something," he said. "One of Hoenn's greatest swordsmen, as well as being literate. I'm humbled to have a talent like Cyllene along on my expedition. I'll challenge her to spar as soon as we can disembark."
Zisu shook her head. "Cyllene only trains in secret," she said. "Let her dour expression speak for what she's capable of."
"A true master, then. Unwilling to divulge her secrets."
Kamado nodded in total amusement, and his new recruit gripped the guardrail tighter.
When he grew bored of watching glaciers, the Commander too disappeared, leaving the false princess Zisu Perilla to flounder on the deck.
"Cyllene… I am so... so sorry."
you used to hide behind the wall...
~N~
I may have said this before, but I love Cyllene and Zisu's relationship because it's entirely based on me and my real-life childhood friend who still lives nearby. The "there's a bear" story really happened and I was so mad I didn't even get to see it.
I have a new one-shot! It's called Crises Abridged! (Or Blubbery Academy on DeviantArt.) Check it out!
Anyway it's almost 2am which means I'd better get this chapter up for Chickadee. Happy Pokémon Day!
Published by scrivenernoodz on FanFiction . net and AO3 February 27th, 2024. Please don't repost. Please do review!
