Chapter Three: Fire and Ice

Hi. I apologize for the change in schedule. I know I previously said this story would update Sundays, but after mulling it over some, I realized that Fridays are a better time for me. I don't want to be constantly changing the schedule, so I will do my best to keep it consistent in the future. Thank you for understanding.

Kukui awaited them at Hala's house. The house - a lodge, really, serving as a pseudo-community center for the residents of Iki Town - was expansive and always filled with Melemele's elders, who told stories of the past to anyone who would hear. Mostly each other. In recent years, Hala had set up a display of Alolan art and artifacts, with comprehensive descriptions of the history of each item and its creators.

One such work was a gargantuan wooden sculpture of Tapu Koko. It was inspired by a legend, one of the ones in Sun's collection, where Tapu Koko had hunted a beast terrorizing the islands. In one talon it held a crude, rugged spear, with the beast's crimson blood splattered upon its serrate edges. In that same blood the guardian had painted upon its shell the word "LANAKILA", or "VICTORY". When Sun had been younger, the sculpture had been on display in the main room, the one available to the public. It had towered over him, and even the reproduction of the Tapu's eyes held so much bloodlust it had made him uneasy, even though he knew Tapu Koko was supposed to be the hero of the story. He hadn't been at all surprised when he heard it had been shunted away into Hala's office on account of it frightening too many small children.

Now the sculpture sat across from him, its unseeing orange eyes boring into his. Beside him, his surrogate father put his arm around him, defensive.

"If Sun says he's telling the truth, he's telling the truth. It's not in his nature to lie."

"I do not doubt his honesty," Hala clarified, his voice gruff. "But he is a child, and he is not immune to becoming confused or unintentionally omitting details." He turned to Sun, and Sun was thankful to pull his eyes away from the unnerving effigy. "Now, Sun, are you positive you're unable to think of a reason the Tapu may have attacked you? Any at all?"

"I'm positive," Sun answered. He'd never thought of himself as a very good liar, but so far Hala had taken all of his hook, line, and sinker - although he was certainly helped by Kukui's insistence that no, Sun could never have done anything wrong; he was just a boy of only eleven, and the Tapu knew eleven-year-old boys never got up to any mischief.

When the police had come onto the scene, hungry as always for a suspect to blame, Hala had fended them off as he had the mad crowd, citing the children's anguish. Same with the news crew, and the other news crew, and the other other news crew - forget Hau'oli. This incident was making the regional news and beyond.

But, as Kukui had assured Sun and a panic-stricken Lillie, the two's identities were protected under the law and as such would not be released to the public. While an audience member had filmed the incident and posted it online, the video had been filmed from a distance with a shaky hand; Sun, Lillie, and Mizuki's faces were little more than pixelated blurs.

Hala's voice softened as he leaned in. "I believe you. I know Kukui is right about you - your courageous act likely saved both you and your friend's lives. You have done more than just earned this reward." He picked up a small box from beside his feet Sun hadn't noticed before. The box, a repurposed shoebox hastily wrapped in glitzy baby-blue paper, rattled as he took it from him. Sun almost tore into it right there and then, but the kahuna held out his arm: "Take it out to your friends and open it with them. I would like to be there to see you meet your new partner, but I must deal with this mess."

"It's fine, sir," Sun said. "We understand."

Hala nodded solemnly. Kukui followed Sun as he exited the office into the great room, where Lillie and Hau awaited them on a wicker bench. Lillie, her tears long since dried, animated at the sight of them. She scooted aside to make a place for them to sit. Hau slid his feet off the coffee table in front of them, adjusting his posture; he had eyes only for the box in Sun's hands. For a sliver of a moment, a crash of lightning outside the big window turned their bodies into silhouettes.

"Did he talk to you? What did he say?"

"I think I'm in the clear."

The bench let out a slight creak as he sat down beside them - the threads of wicker mimicked the weaving of fabric, but were far less comfortable to sit on. Sun flinched as his lower spine pressed against it.

"I guess Tutu gave you the last one, huh," Hau said. He held up his own red-and-white ball. "I already got mine!"

"Go ahead, Sun, open the box," Kukui said. From his tone - like a parent instructing a child to open a gift from Santa Claus - Sun guessed he must have had some hand in this.

Sun drew his long nails over the wrapping paper, slicing through with ease. He removed the box's cover, revealing three things: a pamphlet, some bright red piece of plastic, and, of course, a tiny red-and-white capsule.

Hau put his hands over his mouth, failing to contain his giggles. "You've got claws, too, Sun! Guess you're just like 'im already."

"Don't spoil it," Sun muttered. To be honest, he was a bit miffed he wouldn't have the chance to actually choose his first Pokemon, but he supposed he was paying the price for his tardiness. Like Ash Ketchum from the cartoon Ash's Adventures, who'd also overslept and been left with only a rowdy Pikachu as his first. He'd always found that kid horribly whiny and annoying, and the thought of having something in common with him irritated him further.

The Poke Ball. The pinnacle of modernity, of human innovation. Sun pressed the center button once, and the ball expanded into its ready-to-release stage, to about the size of his palm. While the more advanced kinds came with special grips, the glossy finish of this cheaper base model was too slippery for Sun to keep a good hold on it.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pressed the center button once more.

The capsule hissed open, releasing a dazzling ray of light onto the coffee table in front of them. The light trembled and shifted; took on a concrete form as the creature's molecules converted from pure energy to flesh and blood.

And the mouths of all four fell open in shock.

"No way," Hau said, his eyes gleaming as he drank in the new Pokémon's appearance. "No friggin' way. Mizuki's going to be so pissed!"

Sun looked at him. "What, you didn't know?"

"Aue, uh…" Hau shook his head. "No. I knew I wanted Rowlet already, so I didn't look. You got real lucky, Sun."

Kukui adjusted his thick glasses as if disbelieving their efficacy. "Hala didn't tell me..."

The Litten opened its jaws and let out a great yowl, as if mimicking the gaping humans before it. It ran its tongue over its glistening dagger-sharp canines, not as any sort of intimidation tactic but by pure force of habit. Its flame-red stripes and muzzle drew the eye, of course, but its most striking feature was its fur: where a standard Litten would be as dark as obsidian, this one was the color of freshly fallen snow.

A thought floated into Sun's mind, although it likely wasn't the same one his companions were thinking. "It looks like you, Lillie."

Lillie's cheeks went as red as the Litten's stripes. "What? Like me?"

Sun blinked, taking another glance at the Litten... yes, the more he thought about it, the more obvious the resemblance was. While the Litten did not display its emotions outwardly in the manner Harmony or Kukui's Rockruff did, the intense stare of its amber eyes hinted at some sort of fervor simmering below the surface. "Yeah. Don't you guys see it?"

"Not at all," Hau said. He had his own partner's Poke Ball in his hand, and Sun could tell he was antsy to show it off. "What makes you think that?"

The exact reasons were difficult for Sun to pin down, but the longer he considered, the more certain he was of them. "Well, there's your skin, of course," he said, "and your hair, and its light-colored fur. But it's the eyes, I think. You've both got that same sort of gleam in your eyes."

Lillie squinted, searching for the similarities Sun had noted. Litten seemed to gravitate towards her the way Harmony had before, reaching out its paw to touch her hand. This didn't surprise Sun at all: over millennia of domestication, Pokémon had become attuned to human emotion, and therefore be able to sense her innate kindness. An image popped into his head, and he snickered - her off in some backwoods, singing to a circle of wild Deerling and Fletchling, like a princess from an old cartoon.

Now he reached out himself, curling his hands around the Litten's torso, but the professor's sudden nudge gave him pause.

"Hold on," Kukui said. "You know the drill. Before you can go off with your new friend, we need to see whether Litten accepts you as its Trainer."

Hau placed his hand on Sun's shoulder. "This part's easy. Rowlet and I got along great, and she accepted me instantly!" With those words, he allowed Rowlet to materialize on his shoulder, and the owl-like Pokémon hooted in greeting. "This is my Rowlet. I haven't thought of a good name for her yet."

Spines of white rose along the Litten's fur as it arched its back, hissing. Rowlet turned her head to ogle the feline, which only increased Litten's rage, and it hacked up a hairball from its throat and set it on fire, turning it into a flaming projectile. Hau jerked to the side, narrowly avoiding the flaming projectile, but he hadn't been its target.

"Hey!" Sun waved both hands at the agitated Litten as Rowlet flicked her wings, shaking off the attack. "No. No fighting outside of battles."

Mizuki's words returned to him then: It's a compulsion.

Litten's eyes slid to its Trainer as it lapped its paw. It looked again to the Rowlet, who its fireball attack had left reeling, and then back to Sun…

Without warning, the albino Litten leaped into Sun's lap, knocking the box out of its way and onto the floor. It pawed at Sun's face with reckless abandon, but Sun did not direct it to stop.

Kukui nodded, pleased. "I didn't doubt for a second it'd accept you."

With Kukui's hand to guide him, Sun pressed his right thumb onto the activation button to register him as Litten's Trainer. Lillie reached out to pet his new charge, and the Litten graciously accepted her affections, purring in delight. Her eyes wandered over to him as he resettled the box onto his lap. "What else is in there?"

"A booklet," Sun said. 'So You're A Fire-Type Trainer: A Beginner's Guide to the Hottest Type Around'. "And some weird plastic thing, too."

Kukui eagerly looked over Sun's shoulder. "Why don't you turn on that red implement, cousin? I bet something good might happen..."

Sun ignored him for now and picked up the pamphlet. The cover reminded him of one he might see on a biology textbook - a group of Salandit lazing by the stimulating heat of a lava flow. He remembered something he'd read about them once before: despite their Fire-Typing, Salandit were cold-blooded, and they needed to live in close proximity to such intense heat sources in order to maintain homeostasis.

"I think you'll get a lot out of TURNING ON THAT RED DEVICE, Sun," Kukui said.

"I'm going to, I'm going to. Give me a moment." Sun briefly thumbed the pages, skimming the pamphlet's contents. He wasn't at all interested in the red thing, but if Kukui insisted…

Several clicking noises rang out as Litten repeatedly batted the device; it was much sturdier than it had seemed on first glance. Its weight, too, surprised him - Sun guessed it must have been all the cogs and machinery inside. He pressed the power button, and the screen flared to life, displaying a light blue background with the words "Alola Pokedex". A yellow loading bar displayed the device's progress in its self-configuration.

"Scanning... scanning..."

Kukui nudged the boy beside him. Sun failed to think of another time he'd seen the professor this giddy - like a Rockruff given a femur to gnaw. "This is a Pokedex," the professor said. "It can identify and categorize any Alolan Pokémon you come across. Ain't that neat, Sun?"

"...I guess."

An image of a standard-colored Litten loaded in. A synthesized voice rattled off various bits of information: this Litten was male, about three months old, a Fire-Type, and had been registered to a Trainer with an identical ID number to Sun's personal ID - he'd always wondered whether Trainer IDs were distinct from the government-issued PIDs, and was somewhat disappointed by the answer.

"Would you like to give this Pokémon a nickname?"

"Yes".

The screen brought up a keyboard for him to input his chosen nickname. He stared at it for a moment; then glanced at the white-furred Litten before him. Nine taps procured a word onto the screen, and one more made it final.

"Registered to Trainer no. 9981527: Frostfire. This Pokémon's data has been added to the Pokedex."

"There we go," Sun said, and a slight smile touched his lips. "Welcome, Frostfire."

Frostfire curled into a ball, lowering his long wiry tail. If he had any feelings toward the name, he didn't show them.

Hau frowned. "That name makes him sound like an Ice-Type or something."

"I think it's a nice name," Lillie said. "The juxtaposition suits him, I think." She reached out again to stroke the Pokémon's back, eliciting another satisfied purr. "Frostfire, I don't think you realize just how lucky you are to have a Trainer like Sun. You're in good hands here."

"Whatever," Hau muttered. "I wanna go to the malasada shop. You promised me. Plus we've gotta have our first battle soon!"

Kukui shook his head. "I don't believe it's a good idea for you two to go out into the city right now. Not until things have - " he gestured to the door to Hala's office " - calmed down. Besides, you guys must be tired, aren't you?"

"Not me," Hau asserted. He tapped his foot with increasing tenacity, as if trying to dispel all potential doubt.

Sun took a deep sigh; closed his eyes. It was only about two in the afternoon, and as much as he would have liked to go out on Route One and discover some new Pokémon, the conflict brewing inside him had drained all his energy. Right now, all he wanted was to get his ass off this bench and go home, read his booklet, take a long, long nap, and not think about the events of this morning.

Kukui must have noticed his dour mood, because he pulled him closer. "Everything alright, cousin?"

"I'm fine." A surge of rage cut through him unbidden: only the twelve-thousandth lie I've had to tell today. The insanity of it all. Hau's face fell as he continued: "I don't want to battle right now. I'd like to bond with Frostfire a bit first. Plus, it's raining out. We should head home."

Kukui nodded, ruffling Sun's hair. "That's a good idea. Lillie, what do you think?"

Lillie nodded and rubbed her temple. She wasn't really looking at any of the three of them, Sun realized - her hands still hovered over the side of her bag, which was tucked snugly in between her and Hau. Frostfire sniffed at her hand, and his pale lip curled.

Sun mumbled Frostfire's name, clicking the Poke Ball and turning his new Litten into air. The Rowlet on Hau's shoulder visibly relaxed. Hau himself stared at his feet, dejected.

"I guess we'll have to hold off on it, then," he conceded. "See ya tomorrow, Sun."

Sun didn't answer. His eyes lingered on the two-inch-wide barrier of fabric between Hau's thigh and the end. Outside the rain pooled into the gutters, murmuring and rippling.

Since the beginning of time, humanity has been fascinated by fire: the paradoxical giver and taker of life. This fascination has extended to the class of Pokémon with the power to manipulate fire, the majestic and enigmatic Fire-Types. It's a relatively recent development that humans have actually had the power to catch and train Fire-Types, as prior to the invention of the Poke Ball, their temperamental natures made them too much of a liability to have around. For this reason, specialization in Fire-Types has grown from being barely viable a century ago to the fastest-growing field in modern times.

If you're reading this guide, chances are you've either found yourself in possession of a Fire-Type Pokémon or plan to get one in the future. While every species and individual are unique, this guide will show you both the Type's greatest strengths and most pressing vulnerabilities.

Firstly, let's talk about one of the most basic aspects of being a Trainer, but one many beginners have trouble wrapping their head around: the cosmological pyramid.

[There is a diagram of a pyramid, reminiscent of the ecological pyramid; however, as a note to the side proclaims, "Energy flows down the pyramid". From top to bottom the pyramid goes: "cosmos", "humanity", "Pokémon", "simple organic material", "advanced elements", "complex elements", and "basic elements". Outside of the pyramid lurks something ominously labeled "eigengrau".]

As you can see in the diagram above, the complexity of life-forms follows a certain hierarchy. The base elements, the sources of a Pokemon's power and typing, are in the three bottom tiers, while the 'cosmatics', the most complex of life-forms, are at the top. You don't have to worry about the latter; unless you're a dimensional physicist, the chances of you ever encountering a creature with a soul more powerful than a human's is slim to none.

THE TRIAD OF PROXIES

[There is another diagram of an equilateral triangle made up of four smaller triangles. In one corner, there is the label, "Trainer"; the other corners are "Pokémon" and "Proxy". The center triangle is labeled, "Energy Transfer During Combat".]

This is the only configuration of cosmological levels likely to be relevant to you as a Trainer. When a Trainer instructs their Pokémon to use a move, a certain amount of power is siphoned from them into their Pokémon. (This is why Pokémon and humans formed their symbiotic relationship in the first place: no wild Pokémon will ever have the means to reach their full potential without a human's energy.) This may seem detrimental to the Trainer, but it is actually far more dangerous for the Pokémon: as this power is one level higher up on the pyramid, the Pokémon has trouble containing it by itself. This is not usually a problem during shorter battles with weaker Pokémon, but as the level of skill increases, so too does the amount of requisite power.

The most advanced Trainers are often described to be able to control their Pokémon's moves without a second thought - the Pokémon becomes akin to a third arm; an extension of their Trainer. However, in the triad of proxies, the Pokémon also gains an extension of itself.

This brings us to the third corner of our triangle: the proxy.

Proxies are the vessels the surplus energy is stored in. In order for the Pokemon to be able to use them, they must come from the level lower than Pokemon on the pyramid, which is why, historically, proxies have been made of organic material - usually smaller insects or plants. In modern times, scientists have developed artificial proxies, which can store much more energy and last for much longer than a proxy coming from the natural world. However, a Trainer can never go wrong with a simple blade of grass.

If the Pokémon is unable to store the extra energy in a proxy, this energy can overwhelm its body and damage its cells. Over time, this can cause serious health issues like organ damage and an increased risk of cancer. For this reason, the World Pokémon League mandates a proxy be used in every official League battle, and repeated proxyless battling is classified as felony Pokémon abuse in the United Western Federation.

How does any of this relate to the Fire typing?

Well, good news: in the pyramid of energy levels, Fire-Types are classified as a BASIC type. This means its element, fire, is at the simplest of the three elemental power levels. This does not mean it is weaker than other types - only that it requires a lower level of energy usage, which is why basic types are often recommended to Trainers who are just taking their first steps on their Pokémon journey.

In other words, Trainers who primarily use Fire-Type Pokémon go through fewer proxies during battle (Stills et al., 2003).

What about dual-typed Pokemon?

In this case, the power cost depends on the Pokémon's secondary typing. If it's another Basic type, it'll be similar to a mono-Fire-Type. If its other type is a Complex or Advanced Type, it'll require the same energy cost as those levels. For a list of which types belong to each pyramid level, please see Appendix One. Please note that as mentioned before, every Pokémon is different, unlike how

people are

all

the

same.

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For the most delicate of moments, the feeling was immaculate: swaddled up in endless oblivion, drifting supine and naked. The boy was liquid; his eyes, which had glazed over in his reading, ached from overuse. An image flashed before him, although only the most basal parts of him would retain it.

The darkness set in with teeth and claws - it was as if a hand had curled around his windpipe, and he gasped for air. He seized as a series of spasms flowed through him, as if his body was resetting itself. Everything came into being at once: light, sound, color, feeling. He did not need to open his eyes to know where he was. Although he had never stepped foot into this un-sacred place, he could visualize every inch of it, every crevice, to perfection.

Above him, dusky light filtered through a stained-glass window composed of a thousand variegated tiles; the stony floor, coated with a thin film of blood, soaked up its prismatic rays. Two rows of old cathode-ray-tube televisions lined the room, one against each wall. There were around thirty or forty in total, and the same voice blared from each speaker, married to the sharp hiss of static:

"-all the same. Men are all the same, you know. Far too many of them don't think with their brains but with their-"

"-under the autumn sky and let us dance. Together, let us leave behind the ugliness of this-"

"-another time, perhaps. As they say, the road to hell is paved with-"

The voice burned with paradox: soft and desperate and gentle and manic all at once. It sounded feminine. Nonsensical sequences of abstract shapes and neon colors swirled on each screen, accompanied by subtitles in an unknown language. The more his eyes lingered, the less he understood.

Yes, he knew where he was: this was a cathedral. A strange, perplexing cathedral, lacking any sort of pews or altar, cluttered with dull noise - but a cathedral nonetheless. A clangorous bell chimed from on high, its vibrations palpable in the chamber; the drone gave the boy a constant to focus on above the televisions' clamor.

An unfamiliar voice spoke: a child's voice, tender and innocent and so deliciously real. "Welcome to my temple, Sun. Is it to your liking?"

Sun looked around for its source, but no other soul occupied the chamber. The woman from the television was still on her many eclectic tirades.

"I'm somewhat hesitant to take physical form. My self-image has come to mimic my vessel, but you seem to dislike it when I speak through her." A hint of mockery tainted its final sentence: "It's all for your own comfort."

"Oh." Sun let out an exasperated sigh. "It's you."

"Now, now, my dear. Do not speak ill of me in my own holy place. You are the only other soul to have ever entered this hallowed hall. Are you not honored?"

Sun knew exactly what Nebby was doing - using a child's voice to force his guard down so he'd be more open to its manipulation. He tightened his fists, the overlapping voices in the background only heightening his frustration.

"Oh no, Sun. I would never do such a thing. It's disheartening to hear what you think of me. I only wanted to thank you for saving us from that awful monster. I know precisely why today was the day it attacked us: in this weakened state, I was unable to retaliate."

At that moment, all of the television sets spoke in unison: "You're so pathetic. You're nothing."

"See? Ooh, you don't understand, my boy - there is no love in this world for us weaklings. We exist to be playthings for the mighty. From the very moment of my conception, I was destined to be belittled; spit on; neglected; beaten; abused. As you can see, not even within the hallowed halls of my very own mind does the torment end."

"Right," Sun said, "and now you want to make it everyone else's problem."

"That tells me exactly what kind of person you really are, Sun. Is the injustice of those less fortunate not, from its very inception, already 'everyone else's problem'? Is it not the duty of the strong to be custodians of the weak?"

Sun shrugged. "I... I guess..."

"This is why," Nebby began, "for a long time, I loathed your species. I loathed my former master and what she did to me. Just as I had given up all hope, I was shown kindness: not from someone strong, but from a fellow weakling who possessed that ever-inscrutable power to empathize with my plight. The girl. I do not hate her; well, not anymore, at least. But she is an outlier and we both know it.

"When you mentioned that myth last night, Sun, you steered my attention onto the topic. The reason humanity predicts their own destruction is because you know you deserve it. You know the consequences of your sins will come back to destroy you in the end, but you are selfish enough to commit them regardless. Despicable."

"There are good people out there," Sun said. "I - I don't know whether I would include myself in that category, but there are. I mean, doctors, nurses, firefighters, teachers... those are people who dedicate their whole lives to helping the weak and hurting."

"Did you even listen to a single word I said? I am aware there are human beings who help others of their kind - but do you truly believe every last one of them is motivated purely by selflessness? Even for so-called 'random acts of kindness': have you ever held the door open for another person, Sun?"

"Of course."

"And when you held that door: was it truly because you wanted to be kind, or was it because your society has labeled shutting the door in another's face a taboo, and you didn't want to be viewed as a deviant?"

The television speakers quieted to emphasize Sun's silence.

"That's precisely what I thought. Truly good people become vanishingly rare in a society where 'good' and 'nice' are seen as synonyms."

In lieu of a rebuttal, Sun narrowed his eyes. "Is this what you summoned me here for? To talk my ear off?"

"You're deflecting, Sun, and it's quite sad to see. This is another problem with your kind: you despise change. You would rather uphold the hierarchy of an unjust society than go through the necessary pains to fix it, because you're paralyzed by your own fears. You'd rather stay ignorant than listen to me, because that would force you to admit your own imperfections."

Before he could respond, Sun flinched: every television screen made a hard cut to static. The garble resolved to the familiar noise of idle chatter, and what looked like an old home movie began to play. The memory of him and Lillie cornered by Tapu Koko. Although the film's resolution was blurry and marred with artifacts, it was much more intimate and closer to the action than the video posted online.

Nebby must have intuited his question, because it answered: "It's a reconstruction. From you and my vessel's collective memories."

It was as if he were looking at himself for the very first time: so tiny and feeble in comparison to Lillie and the Tapu, not helped by his poor posture. He was wringing his hands, eyes darting to the crowd, as if expecting one of them to step in and save him. After all, there had to be at least one good person among them, right?

Yet he hadn't had to think about saving her at all. There had been no considerations of the sort of praise or accolades he'd get. There was no time to carefully manicure his image, to put on a show; this was Sun at his most basic. This was his heart.

"Don't you see? You do have the potential for good. It's one of life's many tragedies that such painful situations seem to be the only way to draw it out. That is why I've allowed you to defile my temple tonight, and that is why I'll do it again."

A sad smile tugged at Sun's lips as the screens returned to their prior state of constant flux. How wonderful that was - a remnant, perhaps, of the simpler him, who hadn't the guilt of making a pact with a demon on his hands. What had it said last night? They were a triad now - all three of them were to bring about the world's destruction.

In the moments before Nebby spoke again, he allowed himself to imagine the stars in a frenzy, slicing the planet into ribbons; catching each slice in their gravities and swallowing them in their marvelous infernos. The cathedral's ceiling was so high it seemed there was a thousand miles of distance between him and the very top, and it triggered a desire not thought but felt: in the end, this place will be the only safe shelter. I'll bring the professors and Lillie and Hau and Mizuki here, and we'll all clap and cheer as everything turns to ash.

This, too, was Sun's heart. Isolation has never been very good for the development of a child's soul, and over the years Sun had experienced plenty - from back in preschool, before he had learned to carve himself his mask of sociability; to as recently as a year prior, when the responsibility of caring for his ailing mother had left him no time to maintain relationships with anyone but his two closest friends. Loneliness, he felt, was simply the natural order of things. In his mind, most people were the other - nothing more than mere abstractions, fragments of a passing dream.

The vibrations of the church bell thrummed once more through the chamber. Nebby started again: "Now, before I permit you to leave, I have one more task for you. I'm sure you will be pleased to hear it is a simple one."

"Go ahead," Sun murmured, cautious.

"You are of Kantonese descent, aren't you, Sun?"

"Um... yeah. Well, my mom is - was." A wave of sorrow surged through him; he quelled his trembling, forcing his eyes shut. "Why do you ask?"

"Then I am sure you are familiar with a certain Kantonese confection known as konpeitō. Now, I am quite fond of this 'konpeitō', and I would like you to bring some to me."

"...You think just because I'm Kantonese, I know where to get konpeitō?"

"Well? Do you?"

He shrugged. "I could probably find it around here, but specialty imported stuff like that is crazy expensive. I mean, it's not so easy to ship to an island chain in the middle of the ocean. I'd really rather not-"

"THIS IS NOT A REQUEST, SUN."

Sun released a deep sigh, racking his brain. Somewhere he could get konpeitō cheap…

"Mizuki's family likes treats like that," he said at last. "I'll ask her tomorrow if they have any."

"Thank you, my dear. If there's one thing you remember from our conversation, let it be this: if you'd truly like to be moral, take a second look at everything you encounter. You must always, always, read between the lines."

With that, Nebby faded into the crackling confusion, and the multitude of one voice swelled to replace it.

"-I don't want to die alone, but I don't care about being happy anymore. I've chased happiness for so long it's-"

"-meaningless to me. They stuffed me full of empty platitudes and cliches until I was made up of nothing more than others' useless thoughts and words and actions. I became-"

"-sustained through nothing but my own self-assurance. And now I've done it. I've justified my own existence. Every second of a hundred thousand lifetimes, leading up to this - the most wonderful thing I've ever seen. She's beautiful."

It's midnight when Sun awakens, and Lillie is beside him. He doesn't know when she climbed onto the edge of his cot, but somehow, he doubts it was her choice. Annoyance is distant to him, and anger more so, so he accepts her as is.

There's something different about her. Something imperceptible. Maybe it's the way each breath sounds as they escape her throat - like when he and his mother would get lemonade together and blow across the tops of the empty glass bottles. So curiously ethereal.

Across from them, atop a pile of dirty laundry hastily cobbled into a cat bed, Frostfire lazily opens one amber eye; closes it. Sun doesn't notice. He's too lost in the gentle mist of nostalgia; too in love with the myth of his own past.

The sweetness of lemonade and konpeitō, the exquisite glow of a white cat's fur, the impossible softness of an angel's skin. The melancholic crackle of an old television set, the crimson sticking too thick in dark hair, the eternal struggle between the weak and the strong. For too long it had seemed to Sun he had lived in one world, had followed a single unbranching path; now, he finds himself at a crossroads. He can advance onwards as intended, turn back the way he's come, or take a chance on the road less traveled.

He'd like to hold her hand, but he's afraid he'll disturb her peace. Instead he lays splayed out, his palms parallel to the ceiling as he stares upwards, consumed by his own thoughts. As his eyes adjust to the dark, he notices one of the roof's trusses is shaped like a shepherd's crook. He's never noticed that before. Never cared to look.

The night is perfect. The stars are perfect. For one brief stretch of hours, the world is whole.

"Appendix One: Type Classifications

Basic: The classical elements: Fire, Water, Air, Earth, and Quintessence. These translate into Fire, Water, Flying, Rock, Ground, Grass, and Normal.

Complex: Types which are defined by more complex transformations of the Basic Types. These are Ice, Steel, Ghost, Dark, Electric, and Poison.

Advanced: Types which are defined by even more complex chain interactions. These are Dragon, Bug, Fighting, Psychic, and Fairy.

You can think of these as akin to the differences between a single animal cell - tissue - organ.

To our knowledge, plants and non-Pokémon insects are not capable of harnessing elemental power, but they can act as vectors of it. More research is needed on the subject. As they are, Grass and Bug-Type are Basic and Advanced Types respectively."