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[Pokémon] Champion Game [M]

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
3,488
Posts
15
Years
Well, it would seem I've been somewhat remiss in regards to my responsibility of actually replying when people talk to me. I apologise sincerely - school snuck up behind me while I was writing and cracked me on the head with a large homeworkhammer. :/ But I'm somewhat in control of that now, even if I haven't finished any of it. :x So from now on, I shall endeavour to take some time once or twice a week to reply to my beloved readers.~

Build-up's very masterfully written. Emotion is genuine and I loved Bella Bianchi for trying to expose Ren about the concept of image. Katrina makes me think of Gandalf, a bit when she said she'd 'keep an eye, both as I can spare them'. But I was a bit worried about how Steven saw her differed from how Tash saw her, then it got interesting it was revealed how Katrina saw Tash, and especially when Tash is left with her even longer. Hmm.
Only saw LotR once, and it was some years ago, so if I pinched that from there, it was entirely subconscious. Although I do believe I've seen it in several places. And hrmm, I have big plans for Katrina. :)
Glad you like Bella, by the way. She was sweet to write.
I love the Dreamlight concept. The volcanic analogy was pulled off brilliantly.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW PROUD I WAS OF THAT ANALOGY WHEN I WROTE IT \o/

Looking forward to the next chapter. (And Now, Something A Little Magical? Hm.)

EDIT: OMG THERE'S MORE BRB

2ND EDIT: -mouth gape- What a ride. At first, I was bummed at the lack of Pokemon, but the battle with Roxanne totally made up for it. Good job.
Hehe. I guess it was a bit abnormal to write a Pokemon fic without . . . y'know, without Pokemon, but it's not really the main focus of this story. Yet at the same time, I really don't want it to be eclipsed by the Dreamlight side . . . humm.

I have become one very lazy person so I didn't get to read much of what I missed and I barely remember where I left off. (I plan to read this story again from the beginning at a later date, which will be soon.) I did however, helped myself to the last two updates with this fan fiction.

I admire your ability to write a battle. It takes me many tries to get one right. I can imagine the scene in my head, but I tend to repeat the obvious and soon the flow of the battle is really off and awkward. Because of the disruption of the flow, the battle completely falls apart. It can just take me days to write a battle that is somewhat decent. I wish I had your ability to write a good battle sequence.
I'm glad you feel that way . . . that makes one of us. I have almost no confidence in my ability to write Pokemon battles, mostly because they're the thing I've practiced writing the least.

I didn't find too much wrong with this and I am a bit lazy to point them out, but you are doing a splendid job with this fan fiction so far. :D
Why, thank you~! (Hope you've forgiven me for using a prologue by now? XD)

Nice, I particularly enjoyed the latest update.
It seems quite a challenge Roxanne has burdened the Champion with, but liking his moxie.
Eh, Ren'll brush through this, no trouble! Maybe. XD Thanks for reading, by the way. I don't think I've welcomed you properly yet. I also see you're pretty new to the forums, so a general welcome to you as well.

~~~

In other news, I'd like to share a 'trailer' I tossed together last night for Champion Game. I posted it in the Trailer For Your Fanfic thread over at Serebii on kind of a whim, but it shouldn't hurt to throw it in here as well - especially considering that I'm actually quite happy with how it turned out. Have a look. Italics are voiceovers and [stuff in brackets is direction]

[Music plays softly in the background. The screen is black, but slowly, two points of light come into view. They grow and sharpen until it is clear they are a pair of catlike green eyes]

Ren (whisper): Did I . . . wake up?

[The eyes slowly close]

Elly: Nope. You're still dreaming.

[The eyes flash open, filling the screen with light. The light fades to reveal Ren, standing in a grassy field. Low-angle shot rotates around him as he looks around in confusion. Elly comes into frame as the camera rises behind Ren's head.]

"My purpose is . . . to protect this world, and yours. And now, that's your purpose, too," she says.

"I . . . don't understand," Ren says.

Elly sighs. "I had a feeling you'd say that."

[Cut to black.]

Ren: it's just a dream, right? It's not like I can die or anything.

[A poorly-restrained, amused laugh is heard as the music stops. The screen cuts to a shot of Ren and his young cousin, Natasha, on a train. Natasha is asleep, leaning against Ren, her head bobbing slightly as the train clacks over the tracks..]

Ren: That's me. Ren Goodwin, fourteen years of age. I'm the newest Champion of the Hoenn League.

[With a jarring noise like a rewinding tape, the screen flickers briefly between shots of Ren and his Pokemon battling Steven before returning to Ren on the train. Nothing has changed except for a few extra people standing or sitting around him.]

Ren: I knew it was going to be big, being the Champion, but . . . not this big.

[Again, the screen flashes across several quick shots, this time of Ren receiving his trophy and medal for winning the League. This time, when it returns, there are even more people on the train, partially obscuring Ren from view. It's getting dark outside.]

Ren: This is . . . this is a different level. I don't know what I'm doing.

[More quick shots zap across the screen - Ren mobbed by fans, Ren accosted by journalists, Ren falling into bed in his hotel. Back on the train, Ren is almost completely obscured by the passengers now crowding the train. Outside, it is dark, and there are lights on in the train.]

Ren: Everything I knew . . . No, everything I thought I knew has changed.

[Cut briefly to a close-up of Ren's face before crosscutting back to the longer shot. Ren can no longer be seen. The lights in the train go out, and the screen again goes black.]

Ren: There's . . . another world out there.

[Silence for several seconds. Music starts playing again as the screen suddenly cuts to a montage of Ren, a sword held clumsily in his hand, fighting for his life against shadowy black creatures.]

Ren: A hostile world. A world that somehow . . . I've become responsible for.

[As the music reaches a crescendo, there is a flash of light and four figures appear. One is Elly, one is a man in a long, hooded coat and the other two's faces are out of frame, though one is clearly a man and one a woman.]

Ren: Thankfully, I'm not entirely alone.

[The shadowy figures are quickly dealt with - some slashed to pieces, some broken in half by brute force, and others consumed by raging fire. When the smoke clears, Ren and his four allies stand amidst a carpet of melting shadows. A slight mist of rain hisses as it touches the bodies.]

Elly: Don't be mistaken. Even with us, you might not stand a chance.

Ren: It's that bad?

Elly: Worse.

[A crash of thunder, and the screen goes black. From the silence grows a mass of whispering, indistinguishable but menacing.]

Maho: Unto defeat you must play the game - the Champion Game.

[At his last words, the words Champion Game appear on the screen in glowing, dark blue type before slowly fading away.]
 

Bay

6,382
Posts
17
Years
Ack, sorry for not being caught up with your story! I have been busy with my own writing and other real life stuff, oi. Okay, my thoughts on the last three chapters:

Chapter Nine
Hm, quite interesting how Steven changed after becoming yehktira. So that's why he's fine with the publicity. Looks like Ren won't like it anything soon… The mention of the Nightmares getting stronger is fascinating too, although them might be impossible to deal with doesn't sound good. D:

The ending all I'm going to say is Natasha is cute there. XD

Chapter Ten
Haha, here goes Natasha again with her thinking Ren and Roxanne are seeing each other.

"She's totally into you," Natasha advised him, nodding sagely.

"Oh, give it a rest. She's, like, two years older than me or something anyway."

"That doesn't mean anything these days," Natasha said dismissively.
I love her. XD

Okay, I admit I had gone "d'awwwww" when Natasha was sad how Ren left all of a sudden and was lonely. :< I do like the compare and contrast how Ren was intimidated with battling Roxanne when he first started his journey and now isn't, though.

Hm, I don't think you have to be all descriptive how the Pokemon looked like. I mean, the ones that will read Pokemon fics are Pokemon fans and they should already know how a Zangoose and Golem look like. This is just me, though. ^^;

"All right, then," Roxanne nodded. "Then as the challenger, you should take the first move."

"No," Ren said. "Ladies first, I insist. And besides . . . even though I'm the challenger, I'm the higher-ranked Trainer. You take the first move."

"I don't think that's-" Roxanne began to protest, but Ren cut her off with a raised eyebrow. "All right," she sighed. "You're so stubborn."

"And you're not?"

"No, I'm- oh, forget it," she harrumphed. "Golem, go! Get started with an Earthquake."
Why do I find this part cute? XD

Oh, the battle is quite fast pace and intense. Like your take on Bulldoze, even though I haven't gotten the chance to play my Pokemon Black game yet *grumbles about DS Lite not working* XD And interesting what Ren said how he got to be Champion.

Chapter 11
Nice finish with the battle there! Quite nice Ren has thought up of a strategy, but of course I shouldn't be surprised with him being a Champion and all. :P There's one thing I noticed though: was Natasha watching the whole match? I didn't catch that. If so, there was no reaction from her. I know this is in Ren's POV, but him hearing Natasha giving even one small cheer should do it.

Vila and Marcus sound like nice characters and their reasons for going to the Academy are believable. I don't know why, but I LOLed that the Pokemon Vila will use will be Sandshrew.

Well, everything is looking good so far. Haha, I actually saw that you posted Chapter 12 at Serebii, so there's still one more chapter but I'm caught up, oi. D: I'll try my best to review it as soon as you post it, though!

BTW, LOVE the trailer! :D
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
3,488
Posts
15
Years
Chapter Twelve - Mein Haus Ist . . .

Pretty long chapter today, though it doesn't exactly look it thanks to the large number of blocky paragraphs towards the end rather than my usual, dialogue-heavy prose. This is also the start of Arc 2 of Champion Game, where we move out of the 'introductory' stages of the fic and into the real meat of things. I wanted to put this out today as it's essentially the start of the second half of the year. We've passed the two-month milestone recently as well, so although it's not much, I'm happy to have stuck it out this long. Even though Shattered ran for far longer, it had less chapters, a less regular update schedule and a lower wordcount. I've tried chaptered fics unsuccessfully several times, but each attempt goes longer than the last by a significant margin, and I'm really hoping that Champion Game is the one where I reach the tipping point and finish it. I do visualise this going on for a couple of years, though. I can't promise weekly updates until I get to university, but how goddamn cool would that be?

I've let myself ramble. I'll step back now, say thank you again for reading, and allow you to get into the meat of this fic (finally).

Arc 2 – Episode the First


Chapter Twelve
Mein Haus Ist . . .

"First move goes to Vila," Roxanne said. "Battle begin!"

For a few seconds, Vila remained silent. Just as Ren was about to say something, however, she took a deep breath and spoke one word. "Dig."

With a sudden flurry of dirt and powerful digging paws, Sandshrew disappeared through the grass and into the earth below, leaving only a small mound of soil to show it had ever been there.

Rens' eyes flickered around the battlefield as he tried to work out what to do. Manectric was completely vulnerable when facing a Dig-using Pokemon like Sandshrew, but then again, he had faced similar opponents with Manectric before. "Run!" he commanded.

Manectric leapt into action immediately, knowing through long experience what was required. Accelerating sharply, it soon became nothing more than a blue and yellow blur, circling rapidly around the arena.

Ren waited patiently. At that speed, Manectric shouldn't be vulnerable to Sandshrew's attack. But all it would take would be one glancing blow . . .

Manectric continued to circle for a full ten seconds before anything happened. Suddenly, the ground erupted and Sandshrew shot upwards, narrowly missing Manectric, who had been forced to bank sharply to avoid the attack.

Take advantage of the opening, Ren said to himself as he saw Sandshrew flailing in midair, its missed attack having taken it far further from the ground than it had expected. "Ice Fang!" he said sharply.

Manectric turned on a dime and leapt to intercept the still-helpless Sandshrew. Spontaneous clouds of frost issuing from between its fangs, it clamped its teeth down on the small Pokemon and shook it furiously. "Easy!" Ren cautioned. He didn't want the other Pokemon to get too seriously hurt.

With a reproachful glance at its master, Manectric tossed the limp form of the Ground-type Pokemon aside. It tumbled across the grass and slid to a halt. It didn't get up.

"
Sandshrew is . . . unable to battle," Roxanne said, sounding slightly more subdued than she had earlier. "Ren wins . . ." She seemed a little taken aback by the swift, ferocious battle.

"
Return, Manectric," Ren said quietly, holding out its Poke Ball. With a final, slightly put-out growl, the Electric Pokemon dissolved into red light. "I hope that was educational?" Ren said mildly, glancing down the field at Vila.

His eyes widened as he saw the venomous glare with which the normally emotionless woman had fixed him. Fists clenched at her sides, Vila's face displayed such pure, unadulterated hatred that Ren almost took a step back.

"
You . . ." she hissed, her voice wavering. "You bastard . . ."

Ren blinked, trying to work out where her rage was coming from. Sure, she had lost, but she couldn't seriously have been expecting to win, could she? "I'm . . . sorry?" he ventured, at a total loss for words.

"
Do not give me 'sorry', you sad excuse for a man!" she spat as she stalked across the battlefield towards him, stepping over her unconscious Pokemon as if it wasn't even there. Ignoring the protesting Roxanne and the cowering Marcus, she jabbed Ren hard in the chest with her finger. "Do you hear me? I will defeat you!"

With that, she marched out of the courtyard, not looking back once.

"
Did I . . . do something wrong?" Ren asked blankly, his head spinning.

"
Well, ah . . ." Roxanne started, but tailed off uncomfortably, staring worriedly at the door through which Vila had just departed. "Class dismissed!" she snapped suddenly.

The class, by now consisting only of Marcus Price, headed uncertainly towards the door in Roxanne's wake. The Gym Leader slipped quickly through the door and disappeared from sight, leaving Ren and Natasha alone in the suddenly silent courtyard.

"
That was . . . unusual . . ." Ren said quietly, the wind suddenly taken out of his sails. He had been all fired up just a minute earlier, yet after Vila's unexpected outburst, he found he had suddenly lost his will to battle.

"
You're telling me!" Natasha snorted. "That woman's bad news, Ren."

Ren didn't say anything. Instead, he crossed to the nearest bench and sat down, resting his head in his hands and massaging his temples with his thumbs. He had won, followed the rules of the battle exactly as they had been set out . . . so why had Vila exploded like that? It doesn't feel like I won that battle, he realised. Or at the very least . . . that the battle isn't over.

"
'I will defeat you'," he murmured. Somehow, the words sent a shiver down his spine. Taking a deep breath to clear his mind, he stood up and stretched. With the issue of the world of dreams still weighing heavily on the back of his mind, he could not afford any extra distractions.

"
Let's go home, 'Tash," he said with a sigh. "I've had just about enough excitement for one trip."

There was no sign of Roxanne, Vila or Marcus outside the Academy, but the car he had arrived in was still there. After being dropped off at the railway station, Ren left a message with the driver for Roxanne to apologise both for his sudden departure and for what had happened at the Academy.

Ren realised soon after entering the station that they were far too early for the midday express, so he found a small newsstand – at Natasha's request – and bought two books. Natasha happily withdrew into hers for a couple of hours, but Ren found himself unable to concentrate; letters kept floating off the page and rearranging themselves in front of his eyes, spelling out 'Vila' and 'Elly' and 'yekhtira', among other things. Perhaps the most disturbing of these was 'doom'. Whenever that particular jumble of letters appeared, Ren rubbed his eyes furiously and tried to banish the image, but it kept returning, unbidden, to dance tauntingly in front of him with what seemed to be a kind of malicious glee.

In the end, Ren stashed the book away in his backpack and kept himself occupied by counting columns on the far wall of the station. Every couple of minutes or so, a train would pass in front of him, causing him to lose count and start again. The cycle continued for almost an hour and a half before Ren realised how ridiculous he was being.

"
Come on, Natasha," he said tiredly. "The express should be here any minute." With a sigh, he levered himself off the bench and headed for the platform. Anything, he decided, to distract himself from the multitude of complicated things running around his tired mind.

Sure enough, the express arrived at midday on the dot. After making sure that they both had tickets this time around, Ren ushered Natasha onto the train, feeling his inexplicable tiredness gradually intensifying. By the time he found his way to a seat, he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Why . . .

With a final disgusted puff of air at his own apparent feebleness, Ren let his head rest on the uncomfortable back of the seat.

"
I'll wake you up when we get there," he vaguely heard Natasha saying before he drifted out of consciousness.

Afro Glameow looks kind of pissed. Ren raises his hands apologetically, but the furious feline does not seem to be at all mollified. Rather, it stalks towards him once again, tiny yet threatening fangs bared in a frustrated grimace. It's as if it knows that Ren's going to get away again.

But he's not sure that he is. He looks around hopefully for any sign of a portal to the second ring, but there's no sign of anyone except him and the prowling Glameow, its ridiculous hairdo wobbling slightly as it tilts its head to regard him suspiciously.

It's only now that Ren realises they're not in the candy maze anymore. Instead, they appear to be standing between two massive concrete columns. It's dark. Ren looks up, suddenly noticing a constant rumbling noise that may or may not have been there the whole time. The sky isn't visible – not directly above him, at least. Above him, all that's there is more concrete . . . or something. It's a bit hard to see. He's standing in a veritable forest of concrete columns, he realises, all reaching up towards the dark mass blotting out the sky. Some light leaks in from far to his left, and more from far to his right, but it's not enough to clearly see where he is. And the rumbling goes on.

Taking the initiative, Ren turns and runs. It's a little cold. Afro Glameow is following, but at no great speed. Ren senses it could easily catch him if it wanted to. He ducks past another concrete pillar and just about trips over a massive roll of wire. Reacting at the last moment, he jumps over it, but catches his shin on a protruding spike of some sort. There's blood, but not much. No pain either, so he keeps running and decides to worry about it later. Afro Glameow is close, he can tell – even without looking back, it's apparent he is being toyed with.

His only chance is the light, he decides. If there's no rescue forthcoming from Elly or the others, he'd rather be able to see properly when Afro Glameow catches up to him. What could be taking them so long?

His leg still doesn't hurt, but it feels like lead. It's slowing down his running. His chest feels tight. He glances down and just about trips over in shock. His leg is soaked with blood, and he's leaving a trail of red on the ground. Running is useless, he decides. There's nobody coming for him. Well, nobody save Afro Glameow, that is.

A gust of cold wind moans through the area as he turns to sit on the ground, his injured yet painless leg dragging awkwardly. A scrap of yellowed newspaper skitters across the ground in front of him, and he automatically reaches for it.

'CITY CEO RUNS FOR MAYOR' says the headline. The article itself is barely legible. Ren squints at it curiously.

CityCEOrunsformayor.png


Ren frowns, his befuddled, sleepy mind having trouble reading the message in front of him. Spread throughout the text are a handful of words in capitals.

"
'Ren' . . ." he reads aloud. "'Find the door . . . automatic message. Do not' . . . do not what?" he wonders aloud, but before he can scour the article again, Afro Glameow appears from behind a pillar, slowing as it sights its unmoving target. It pads lightly across the concrete towards Ren, weaving slightly as it comes. It looks a little tipsy.

"
Door . . . what door?" Ren wonders aloud. Oh, of course. The door to the second ring – if you could even call it a door. But how is he supposed to find that? Last time, Elly reached out and pulled him through it, but judging by the 'automatic message' part of the dispatch, there will be no help forthcoming this time.

Afro Glameow hisses in annoyance as Ren pulls himself to his feet again. Just as soon as he regains his footing, however, his injured leg buckles beneath him, sending him tumbling back down to the ground again. Yet in that split second, Ren has seen his way out – or at least, what he hopes is his way out. A small patch of blackness, ever so slightly darker than the shadowy expanse of concrete. It's only about ten metres away, but by now Ren doesn't trust his leg to get him there.

All he can do is crawl, so it's what he tries. Afro Glameow, strangely enough, doesn't move to attack him. It simply slinks along beside him like a bad smell that just won't go away. Perhaps, he reasons, it doesn't think he can go anywhere.

He's moving even more slowly now. His leg is so much dead weight. One leg of his jeans is sodden with blood, and he can hear the horrible, wet dragging sound it makes as he tugs it onwards through force of will. Although he still can't feel any pain, his head is beginning to spin. Probably with loss of blood, he supposes. Not really a good thing.

As he draws closer, Afro Glameow following him tauntingly, it becomes apparent that the patch of darkness is in fact a square hole of the kind he had passed through the last time. It's still too far away, though. Ren swears loudly and pushes himself up onto his knees, almost blacking out with the sudden rush of blood from his head. Unable to move, he sways on the spot for a few seconds before practically throwing himself towards the hole.

He hits the concrete hard, and this time it does hurt. Pain lances through his face and upper body where it has become scratched and grazed. He lands awkwardly just a foot or so from the hole. All he has to do is reach out to it . . .

Too late, Afro Glameow realises that its prey is about to escape, and leaps forward with a yowl. Ren's fingertip brushes the dark square, and with a fwip, Afro Glameow and everything else vanish, all colour and light drawn out of the world and spiralling into a single point above his head that vanishes instantly.

The first thing Ren realised was that he was no longer bleeding. He was sore, for sure, but it soon became apparent that that was only because he was lying spread-eagled on the floor of the Devon Corporation's reception area. It only took him a few seconds to stand up and dust himself off, and a couple more to ensure that he had not sustained any grievous bodily harm.

"
Well, I guess I made it," he said aloud, his voice echoing oddly in the open, empty space. The last time he had come through here, it had been awash with life and noise, but now it was as silent as a tomb. Ren shuddered involuntarily, remembering his narrow escape from Afro Glameow. Why did nobody come for me? he wondered, not for the first time, as he scanned the room. He was obviously in the second ring now – the environment had been created from his recent memories, and there was no sign of life other than himself. The council had promised that somebody would come to meet him the next time he crossed over, but there wasn't a spirit to be seen.

Slightly nervous, Ren wondered what he was supposed to do next. The square hole that he had just passed through was still there, floating innocently about a metre off the ground, but he wasn't sure he could go back just yet. If there were any Iehkti'na hanging around – and it was quite possible there were, he imagined – they would follow him back through the first ring into his own world, and Arceus only knew what they'd get up to there.

Swallowing forcefully, he decided to at least find some means of defending himself in case he was attacked. Casting his eye around the reception area, nothing particularly jumped out at him, so he pushed through the immobile spinning door into Rustboro City.

Which promptly disappeared. Ren blinked, realising that the revolving door had in fact taken him to the battlefield of the Rustboro Gym. He was standing in Roxanne's place at the far end of the field, facing the door he had walked through just hours ago . . . or so it seemed. He had no sooner started to wonder what was going on, however, than the doors banged open and two dark shapes slipped out.

Ren swore as he recognised them. While smaller than the three that had confronted him and Elly the previous night, the Iehkti'na were still bigger than he was. They were also less humanoid-looking than those he had seen, with hunched backs and elongated heads that probed towards him curiously, seeming to sniff the rapidly cooling air. He cast around for a weapon, but there was nothing in the arena that he could possibly use. With no time to do anything else, he made a dash for a door he had glimpsed on the wall to his left. His hand grasped the handle and the Gym disappeared. Struggling against a sudden, overbearing pressure, Ren forced the door open and fell through, into . . . what? A storage cupboard? A passageway?

His bedroom. That was odd. Ren blinked. The air was warm again, and a cloud of dust motes, stirred up by his sudden entry, swirled in the air. Somewhere, a Wingull squawked irately. Am I . . . safe? Ren wondered, shutting his bedroom door behind him and looking around. There was no sign of pursuit. Perhaps they had been lost with the Gym. Ren pressed his ear to the door and listened, but there was no sound. Suddenly realising how heavily he was breathing, he sat down on the bed with a fwump, startling further dust motes into flight. They drifted in and out of the rays of sunlight slashing through the window, muted, dancing explosions of golden light.

Letting his breathing slow, Ren slumped back onto his bed, legs dangling across the floor. Fantastic. Hadn't Elly said there would be someone here to meet him? He had managed to find his way from the first ring into the second safely enough, but he didn't suppose he would have the same luck getting into the third ring. And simply returning to the first ring wasn't an option any more now that he knew there were Iehkti'na on the prowl. Of course, to do that, he'd have to know where the portal back to the first ring was. His only option, as much as he disliked to admit it, was to wait around until one of the spirits appeared. Fighting was a possibility, but not an attractive one. Ren didn't fancy his chances, especially unarmed.

Praying to every obscure deity he had ever heard of that he would be safe where he was for the time being, Ren crossed to the window. Outside, the ocean glistened serenely, stretching all the way across to the barely visible southwestern peninsula of the Hoenn region, which was nothing more than a greenish smudge on the horizon. Somewhere over there was Rustboro, where Steven was probably mired in paperwork associated with his newfound responsibility; where Roxanne might be teaching a class. That was where it had all started, and now he was back at home as if nothing had happened. He cracked open the window absently, feeling a cool breath of salty air brush his face like a feather.

A Wingull swooped past the window, something small and wriggling held in its beak. That in itself was not especially abnormal, but something struck Ren as strange nonetheless. He watched with some interest as the Wingull corkscrewed upwards, banking and twitching its wings to ride an updraft. It was not until it was out of sight completely that Ren realised it had been flying upside down.

The sea was a light shade of lilac. Why had he not noticed that before? It hadn't changed while he was looking at it, but he could have sworn that just seconds before it had been its usual greenish blue. Ren blinked, half-expecting to see the sea return to its normal colour.

Instead, it was a deep, impenetrable black, and rising up to meet him. Ren stepped back involuntarily as the tide reared up, up, far higher than it should have been able to reach. It climbed level with his window and kept going, a massive, solid wall of blackness. It intercepted the rays of the morning sun, and the room was plunged into shadow. Ren shivered uncontrollably as the temperature dropped, despite the sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Then the wave dropped. Watching the enormous mass sink towards his house at frightening speed, Ren was paralysed. He wanted to move, to run, but some kind of morbid fascination kept him rooted to the spot, watching the blackness rush straight for his bedroom window. As it neared, it seemed to condense and shrink, becoming more and more solid and opaque – a transformation difficult to pin down with the eye, but somehow clear enough to be noticed regardless.

The sound of the window shattering was ridiculously loud after the heat-draining silence of the last few seconds, spurring Ren into action. Desperately, he threw himself backwards as the deep clot of darkness flowed into the room in amidst a shower of glass shards. He felt small spikes of pain erupt all over his body as glass flew everywhere, but tried to concentrate on getting away.

By now a gelatinous blob about the size of a large beanbag, the mass of blackness fell to the floor and split into two smaller pieces. As Ren backed towards the door, trying not to step on any more glass, each of the two seemed to shift and elongate, rising over Ren's head and solidifying into vaguely humanoid shapes – the two Iehkti'na that had appeared in Roxanne's Gym. Their appearance spurred Ren into action, and he made a leap for the door, expecting it to take him somewhere else – hopefully, somewhere that he would be safe for a little longer.

There was no such luck. As soon as Ren's hand closed on the doorknob, there was a lurching sensation in the pit of his stomach and the world seemed to dissolve slightly, becoming blurry and indistinct, before abruptly sharpening again. Without the liberty to wonder what the sudden nausea bubbling in his stomach signified, Ren yanked the door open and charged through, hearing the susurrous hissing of the Iehkti'na rapidly approaching behind him.

What Ren saw almost made him stop dead, which would certainly have been fatal. As it was, he collapsed forward out of his door and fell onto the ceiling; the rest of his house, it seemed, had turned entirely upside-down. Tripping over a light fitting that normally lit the way to his bedroom, Ren made his way along the hallway, stumbling along the ceiling rather than the floor.

When he reached the stairs, however, a new problem presented itself: the stair vault in Ren's house had been designed to be big and airy, and as a result, the ceiling did not slope down with the staircase. With the carpeted stairs climbing above him upside-down to the ground floor, Ren glanced behind him. The Iehkti'na had followed him out of his bedroom, and were closing on him quickly.

Hoping he wouldn't regret it, Ren reached up – or was it down? – to the banister that ran alongside the stairs. Somehow, he managed to pull himself up onto the railing, half-crouching with his feet between the bars that now stretched upwards from the handrail to the stair-shaped ceiling. The handrail, when right side up, didn't quite come up to Ren's chest. As a result, he found he couldn't straighten up fully on his makeshift, sideways ladder.

Awkwardly, Ren loosed his right foot from its perch and swung it further up, hooking it into the banister and pulling himself upwards. The distance he had gained seemed minimal, and the Iehkti'na almost caught him. Ren, galvanised into action, started to climb in earnest as a shadowy, claw-like appendage slashed through the banister millimetres from his feet, shearing through the ancient polished oak as if it were paper.

Once out of the beasts' reach, Ren secured himself a foothold and risked a glance back down. The two nightmares – was it easier just to call them that? – were glaring at him without eyes, pacing back and forward on the ceiling. They seemed flummoxed as to how to reach him, and he took some small comfort from that. Still, he knew he was in danger as long as he remained near them, so he kept climbing, making sure not to slip.

The top – or rather, the bottom; Ren was beginning to get dizzy – of the stairs came fairly quickly, it seemed. Ren carefully hoisted himself off the banister and edged himself around a corner, which placed him safely on the kitchen ceiling, but still within arm's reach of a terrifying drop. He hadn't realised quite how much of a death trap his own house was.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Ren looked around. There, seemingly glued to the floor a metre or so above his head, was the kitchen table where he had briefly spoken with his mother just the previous day. That warm, sluggish Saturday morning suddenly felt like it had been years ago.

Standing up, Ren cautiously took hold of the edges of the heavy wooden table and pulled downwards. It lifted slightly towards him, and his arms protested at the strain, as if he was lifting it up instead of down. Ren swore and dropped it, and it fell back up with a clatter. It seemed that gravity was working normally for everything except him and – thankfully – the nightmares that were, he hoped, still prowling around on the first floor.

Wondering what to do next, Ren stood and crossed to the front door, absently looking through the glass pane set into it, which had remained at roughly his eye level. Outside, the world looked much the same as it usually did, save for the fact that it was upside-down. A little scared of what might happen, Ren stretched a hand up towards the handle, which was well within his reach.

Sometimes you have to make choices that determine the future at the drop of a hat. Ren swallowed and grasped the handle, and the world disappeared.
 

Misheard Whisper

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Chapter Thirteen - Die Schwärzeste Nacht

Sorry about the font if it shows up weird for anyone else. It looks kinda weird to me, and frankly I don't have the energy to fix it now. I'll have a look in the morning.​

Chapter Thirteen

Die Schwärzeste Nacht

Everything was black. Nothing was solid. Ren wasn't even sure if he was standing on anything, but at the very least, his house had disappeared. Even the handle on the front door had blinked out of existence the instant he touched it, leaving his hand to close, almost interrupted, on empty space.


Well, calling it 'empty' implied that there might be something there at some point, Ren reasoned. And that seemed unlikely, seeing that he was now floating in a vacuum. Or . . . was he? He was standing upright, that was for sure. That had to count for something, right? Tentatively, he lifted his right foot off the ground that might not have been there after all and put it down in front of him.


But he couldn't. His foot kept falling, his body following it, yet his left foot did not move. Although there was no sensation of spinning, nothing to measure his progress against, Ren supposed he was now cartwheeling through the void, probably looking very silly to anybody who might be watching him.


That thought brought him up short. Where were the Iehkti'na now? They could be anywhere in this blank, featureless expanse. How was he supposed to see them if he couldn't even see himself?


I need light, he thought, and somehow, from somewhere, there was light. There wasn't much; just enough that he could see indistinct shadows wobbling in front of him when he waved his hands before his face. He couldn't even tell where the light was coming from, if it even had a source – if, indeed, it was even a light to begin with. It might be more accurate, he pondered, to call it a darkness that's slightly less dark than the previous darkness. Immediately following this thought, he dismissed it as fanciful nonsense. Dark was dark, and light was light. Idiot.


Immediately following this thought, Ren chastised himself thoroughly for talking to himself like some kind of madman.


"
So, where to go now?" he asked aloud, more to reassure himself through the sound of his own voice than anything else.

"
With me," rasped a deep voice from somewhere above Ren's shoulder.

Ren jumped – or rather, he would have if he had been sure of where the ground was. "Arceus! Who the hell are you?"


There was a sound of clicking fingers, and Ren suddenly felt heat and warm orange light erupt inches from his left arm. He squeezed his eyes shut as the sudden brightness overloaded them.


When he risked cracking his eyes open a few seconds later, Ren was able to see somewhat. He was standing on an empty, dusty plain that stretched beyond the limits of the light emitted by . . . Ren squeezed his eyes shut again and rubbed them to make sure he was seeing properly.


A man was standing in front of him, cupping a warm orange ball of roiling flames in his left hand. The man was huge, easily two feet taller than Ren, and broad; his trunk was wider than Ren was at the shoulders. It was hard to tell much else, though, because he was wearing a long, brown coat that hung almost to the ground, tightly wrapped around his entire body, obscuring it from view. A pair of worn, cracked black boots poked out from underneath it. His face . . .


Ren peered under the hood, the brown folds of which fell softly around the man's head. Somehow, though, no face was visible. Darkness, though banished from every other crevice nearby by the incandescent flames in his hand, stayed put under the hood, seeming to shift and weave back and forwards as if it were alive. "It's magic," the man croaked, as if reading Ren's mind. His voice sounded as if it had been dragged backwards across a particularly shredded piece of sandpaper.


"
Who . . . who are you?" Ren asked. Was this the spirit he had been promised would appear? He certainly hoped so, but in this strange realm of upside-down houses and endless shadows, the hooded man could be anybody. He might even be an Iehkti'na in disguise.

"
Maho," the man said, his voice still rasping in a manner that sounded unnatural and somewhat painful. He then turned and started to walk away as if that had been all the explanation that was necessary, taking his circle of flickering light with him.

Ren hesitated for a moment before following him. Of course, he knew there was no way he could trust this stranger, but it didn't really look like he had a choice. Maho – was that his name? – would certainly have been able to kill him several times already if that had been his intention, although this gave Ren no great comfort as he hurried cautiously after the big man and his ball of fire.


Ren fell into step beside Maho, noticing that although his companion was striding far faster than Ren, he had a pronounced limp that made his body rock to one side every time he took a step. His arms, too, were oddly stiff, as if he had trouble moving them.


"
Will you tell me where we're going, at least?" Ren tried, almost stumbling over his own feet in his effort to keep up.

"
Iehkti'na," Maho grunted from beneath his hood. His head turned sharply one way and the other, and quite suddenly, he changed direction, striding off at almost a right angle.

There was a sudden loud hissing noise from behind Ren, and he ducked instinctively as something scythed out of the darkness behind him, aimed directly at his neck. It passed over his head narrowly, but before he could straighten up to fight – or run, which was more likely – a great gout of white-hot flame poured through the space where his head had been just a split second ago. Ren felt himself break into a sweat as the immense heat passed within inches of his back and slammed into the beast which had crept up behind him.


Ren turned to watch in morbid fascination as the Iehkti'na was utterly consumed by the fire. Instantly, it seemed to melt back into a liquid form, a horrible, vinegar-like smell filling the air as its whispered screams penetrated Ren's ears. He shuddered and tried to look away, but there was no way he could. The nightmare screamed and screamed, its voice never rising above a hiss, until its limbs and body had completely melted. The resulting puddle of what looked like black tar, glimmering sickeningly in the firelight, offered no immediate indication of the horror it had been just moments earlier.


He turned to glance at Maho, who was standing impassively a few metres off. He nodded in satisfaction, causing Ren to again notice the jerky awkwardness of his movements. He then turned and walked off again, clearly expecting Ren to follow. Ren didn't move for a full ten seconds, simply watching the retreating back of the man who had just utterly annihilated a nightmare in less time than it took him to draw breath. He shuddered involuntarily. The man frightened him.


I guess I have no choice other than to follow him, though, Ren reasoned. He has shown that he's on my side, at least . . .


He had barely caught up to the magic user, however, when Maho stopped dead. He lifted his right hand – the one not still providing light – high in the air. Ren, suddenly recognising what was about to happen, jumped backwards and – remembering something a science teacher had once told him – unclenched his jaw. He had worked out by now that covering his ears would do nothing, but that didn't mean he wanted any of his teeth to shatter. The shockwave last time had given him a brief, passing toothache – nothing crippling, but unpleasant enough for him to not want to repeat the experience.


Sure enough, Maho brought his hand slashing down, tearing a hole in the space in which they stood. Beyond was the void. Ren stepped forward, expecting Maho to either push him through or pull him, but instead, the faceless man grasped Ren by the collar and tossed him bodily off to one side.


Ren hit the ground with an indignant 'ow!', but Maho was swiftly upon him, lifting a finger to where his mouth should be in a gesture of silence. That was the last Ren saw for the moment, for immediately the light in Maho's hand was extinguished.


Ren waited, holding his breath. The only light in the universe at that moment was the weak white glow that emanated from the portal a metre or two away, barely enough to make out its border. Ren's mind spun. What was Maho doing?


There was a sense of sudden movement across Ren's vision, followed almost immediately by a crackling blast of blue lightning that lanced out from a point just inches from Ren's cheek. A familiar sizzling feeling raised the hairs on his neck, and he shivered slightly as he saw the immensely powerful bolt of electricity wrap itself around a dark, writhing shape on the ground in front of the portal.


Once again, Ren found himself watching, enthralled, as the nightmare disintegrated, this time burnt blacker than black with a continuous, thick stream of lightning that cocooned it and consumed it utterly. Maho kept up his attack for a good ten seconds before allowing the last traces of electricity to dissipate, plunging them back into darkness.


"
Hmph," Maho grunted dismissively as he conjured up another ball of fire and strode over to poke the charred carcass of the nightmare with the toe of his boot. At his touch, it crumbled to ash with a horrible creaking sound, filling Ren's nostrils with a pungent, unpleasant odour. "No more."

"
Are you sure?" Ren asked, glancing around nervously. Sure, he had only seen two of the beasts, but there was always the possibility of more lurking, unseen, in the vast shadows.

Maho gave him what may very well have been a look of scorn before turning and vanishing into the portal he had torn open, taking his light with him.


Ren blinked. "Guess I'll take that as a 'yes'," he muttered, stepping around the pile of ashes that had not long ago been a Iehkti'na. It seemed that it had been drawn by the faint light of the portal, he guessed as he took a deep breath, preparing to follow the strange magician through.


It's kind of funny, he thought as he felt himself sucked through into empty space once again. One minute a living creature, the next a pile of ashes or a puddle of oil. Is it really all right to kill them like this?


He didn't have time to answer his own question, for barely three seconds after he had stepped into the portal, he found himself once again stepping out into a familiar grassy field. About fifty metres away stood the forest, still dark and imposing, but a little less threatening. Maho stood between him and the trees, looking over Ren's head at something in the distance. As Ren felt the portal blink out of existence behind him, Maho jerked his head in the direction of the woods. "Hurry," he said briefly, before turning and limping towards the trees. "Stay quiet."


Before Ren followed him, he turned to glance backwards at what Maho had been looking at. A threatening-looking thundercloud stretched across the horizon, disappearing beyond his vision in both directions. It was huge; at that distance, it must have been miles high. Quickly, Ren turned to run after Maho, heart thumping suddenly. Something was wrong in the third ring, and he didn't want to find out what it was. At least, not alone.


As Ren passed under the leafy canopies of the first trees, there was a distant rumble of thunder.


Ren was about to ask Maho what the long black cloud meant when he remembered that he wasn't allowed to speak. He would have to remember to ask about that rule at some point. It seemed that the area between the edge of the forest and the barrier around the spirits' village was an enforced 'silent zone', though for what purpose, he could not tell.


Ren fared no better in his trek through the inky black woods than he had on his previous trek; in fact, it seemed to him that he tripped over at least twice as often as he had with Elly. He wished Maho would conjure up his little ball of fire again, but then he remembered that Elly had made him walk without a light source as well. Maybe light is in the same category as talking in this forest.


Eventually, however, light began to filter through the trees again, and the going became easier until eventually they passed through the barrier into the village, where suddenly everything was light and sound.


The settlement was not so peaceful and relaxed as the last time, though, Ren noticed worriedly. People were hurrying purposefully from place to place; the man in the white toga was no longer giving speeches, but had taken up a post next to a small hut and was handing out weapons of various shapes and sizes to the spirits that dashed past; a couple of children dashed here and there, bumbling along with enormous helmets or shields in their tiny hands.


"
What's . . . going on?" Ren asked, bewildered. The air of carefree ease that had pervaded the village was gone, replaced by a thrumming tension that was almost palpable. With a start, he realised that he could actually hear it. Looking up, he saw that the cylinder of magical light that enclosed the area had taken on an angry red tinge and had begun to shift slightly, patterns writhing across its surface like immiscible oil and water.

"
What the hell is he doing here?" came a familiar voice from somewhere in the crowd. Ren and Maho turned to face the source of the voice as Elly Darkstorm pushed her way through the milling mass to confront them. Her hair was tied back in a short, practical ponytail, and she was wearing her black leather gear, to the back of which was strapped her lethally sharp sword. She was pulling on a pair of thin leather gloves as she approached. "It's nowhere near time yet!"

Maho only shrugged, somehow managing to look indifferent despite the fact that Ren couldn't see his face.


"
Why is he asleep?" Elly hissed, before just as quickly rounding on Ren. "Why are you asleep?"

Ren raised his hands in supplication. "I was tired . . . I fell asleep on the train! I didn't realise I'd end up here again!"


Elly swore loudly and vehemently. "Agh! You should have thought of that, moron! Now you're stuck here! I can't very well send you home at a time like this!"


"
Wh-why not?" Ren enquired. "Clearly something's going on, so I'd be best out of your way . . ."

"
That's not possible! If I open a portal to send you back to the second ring, the Iehkti'na will stream through and you'll be overrun!"

"
How would they do that?" Ren asked incredulously. "I don't see any around here."

"
Are you stupid?" Elly practically screeched. "Didn't you see that big black cloud out there?"

"
Yes . . ." Ren said slowly, horror slipping onto his face as he remembered the enormous mass of what he had taken for stormclouds. "Wait, that was . . . they were . . ."

"
Yes!" Elly rolled her eyes. "Man, you're slow!"

"
But if they're out there, surely you can send me back before they get here?"

"
It doesn't work like that! The instant you pass through that portal into the second ring, every Iehkti'na that's awake in this ring will go through into the second ring as well! I can't imagine you, or anybody else, for that matter, taking on so many at once."

"
But you look like you feel pretty confident about beating them here," Ren reasoned, gesturing around at the buzz of activity. "They don't look like people who think they're going to lose." It was true. All of the spirits, from the elderly right down to the toddlers, bore the same expression of stolid determination, save for Elly, who was wearing a strange look that seemed to hover somewhere between 'Can you really be this stupid?' and 'I am going to kill you.' – or so it seemed to Ren. He flinched slightly.

"
Look," Elly said, clearly making an effort to keep her temper under control. "There can only be one spirit in the second ring at once. Any more will destroy it – it's too unstable to handle our level of yehkti as it is. So either we all fight those thousands of monsters here, or you and any one spirit of your choice can take your chances with every single one of them in the second ring. And you're not allowed to just jump through into the first ring, either, or they'll ruin your world. Frankly, I couldn't care less, if the best it can produce is the likes of you, but I don't think that's what you want. You follow?"

Ren nodded, his mouth slightly open. "Looks . . . looks like I'm stuck here," he said, resigning himself to the fact.


"
Yes, you are. Now we have to work out what to do with you. You ought to be safe as long as you don't leave the Glade, but I can't risk leaving you with anyone less than a top-level fighter, just in case. But who can we spare to- ah, of course. Maho, will you be joining us on the battlefield today?"

Maho, who had remained silent throughout the entire encounter, cocked his head slightly, glancing at Ren for a moment before nodding firmly, albeit clunkily. "I will," he rasped.


Elly pouted, dissatisfied. "Well, who the hell . . . I can't spare any of the council members, except Lucius, and he's really not going to be all that much help to you. The other generals are all committed to the battle already . . ." She trailed off and glared frostily into space, chewing her bottom lip.


"
Guess who?" trilled another familiar voice from behind Ren, startling him. Before he could turn around, however, a pair of small hands were clamped firmly over his eyes. "Nuh-uh," said the voice. "I said guess, so you have to guess."

"
Oh, for crying out loud . . ." Ren said, rolling his eyes as best he could.

"
I felt that!" sulked the voice, kicking him sharply, but not too painfully, in the back of the knee.

"
Cecilia, stop playing around!" Elly snapped.

"
Aww, you ruined it!" Cecilia grumbled as she removed her hands from Ren's eyes and skipped around to stand next to Maho. "You knew it was me, though. Right, Ren?"

"
Yes, I did," Ren sighed.

"
Well!" Cecilia said abruptly. "It's settled, then!"

"
What's settled?" Elly asked, looking a bit nonplussed.

"
I'll take care of Ren while the rest of you go off to the battle," she said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"
Cecilia, I really can't spare you today. We need you on the front line."

"
Ohhh?" Cecilia said archly, her voice suddenly taking on an edge that made Ren shiver. She pirouetted around to grab him by the shoulders from behind, peeking past his head at Elly. "Are you sure? Or are you just scared of what we'll get up to when we're . . . alone . . . together?" she said in barely more than a whisper, her breath tickling Ren's ear.

Maho gave a rattly, grating cough and Elly's eyes widened suddenly. "If you think it matters at all to me what you might get up to, you're mistaken!" she said huffily. "Fine. You take care of Ren, and we'll send him back afterwards. Come on, Maho. If you're going to be on the front line, we need to get you in command of your own troops for a change." With that, she whirled on the spot and marched away.


Cecilia giggled. "I think I touched a nerve."


Ren glanced across at her and just about bumped his nose into her head, which was still resting on his shoulder. "You can, uh, let me go now if you like," he said awkwardly.


"
Nah," Cecilia said casually, threading her arm through his and leaning on his shoulder. "Escort me?"

Ren sighed internally. This could be interesting.
 
Last edited:

Misheard Whisper

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Chapter Fourteen - Blitzkrieg

This chapter's about a thousand words longer than most of the others, so enjoy the extra weight and some (shock!) exposition. Also, this chapter is notable for being the first not posted from the Misheard Fortress.

Chapter Fourteen
Blitzkrieg

"We should keep out of everybody's way," said Cecilia, who, despite her request to be escorted, was firmly steering him towards the other side of the village.

"So . . . why are the Iehkti'na here?" Ren asked, suddenly wondering why he hadn't noticed this before. "I didn't know they could get into the third ring."

"Get in? They don't need to get in, Ren. They live here. In the third ring. Did you not pick that up last night?"

"Uh . . . no. If it was mentioned, I don't recall . . ."

"Well, yes. What did you think we had the Spirit Wall for? Ooh, tell you what, we'll borrow Maho's workshop while he's out. I think he's done a bunch of research on the Iehkti'na." With that, she abruptly changed direction, navigating them deftly through the crowd of busy spirits who were still rushing around, preparing for battle.

"Um, no offense, Cecilia, but I've just been wondering . . . you don't really seem like the fighting type."

"Well, I prefer not to be," she said, dodging a young, bronze-skinned man carrying a large, curved sword, "but if it comes down to it, I'm really quite competent, I promise."

"Oh . . . really?" Ren said, unable to mask his surprise.

"Yep! Now, wait here while I get changed," she said, depositing him in the shadow of an elegant marble house and dashing inside, her diaphanous silver robe fluttering behind her.

"Oh, good," Ren muttered. He had been wondering exactly how Cecilia was planning to do any fighting at all in the flimsy, barely-there outfit.

"Yehktira!"

Ren turned, puzzled. Cecilia's sister, Salinthia, was gliding towards him. After looking twice, Ren realised that she really was gliding, hovering an inch or so above the ground, a pale nimbus of green light emanating from her. She had already gone ahead and changed into battle dress, it seemed – not that it looked very practical, Ren had to admit. She had traded her silver robe for a thick, heavy purple one, tied with silver cord and hanging almost to her ankles.

"Oh, hello," he said, puzzled. "What can I, uh, do for you?"

"Felicia asked me to give this to you," she said with the slightest hint of a knowing smile, holding out the short sword he had used to kill the nightmare the previous night.

Ren took it hesitantly, the blade almost seeming to speak to him as he clasped his hand around its purple-bound grip. I have taken life. You, through me, have taken life too. He shuddered and ignored it. "Thanks," he said weakly. "Tell Elly I'm glad she's worried about me."

"I don't really think that's the case," Salinthia said. "I believe it has more to do with the fact that it would be disastrous if the yehktira was killed. You personally have nothing to do with it."

"All the more reason to tell her, then," Ren grinned. Somehow, riling Elly up was fun.

Salinthia inclined her head gracefully before slipping back into the crowd, and Ren could tell she approved, even if she wouldn't say it.

Cecilia reappeared at his side a moment later, looking slightly miffed as she noticed the blade he was holding. "Present from your girlfriend?" she enquired coolly.

Ren had been a little afraid she would show up in an impractical-looking robe like her sister, but it turned out she had opted for a loose-fitting white costume that looked much like one of those worn by karate practitioners. He chose to ignore her comment. It just wasn't worth it. "Come on," he said. "Weren't we going to Maho's workshop or something?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said, narrowing her eyes at the blade as he slotted it carefully through his belt. "Let's go."

"Are you sure it's OK, though?" Ren asked as they set off at a brisk trot. "Maho . . . didn't seem like the kind of guy who'd appreciate it if we went through his stuff."

"It's fine," she said airily, waving a hand as they swerved through the rapidly thinning crowd. Ren noticed that most of the spirits had congregated on one side of the village – the side opposite to the one they were headed towards. "As a member of the council, nobody can complain about what I do. Maho might be a General, but it doesn't mean he can tell me what to do outside of a war zone."

"Wait, he's a General?" Ren asked. "He didn't really strike me as the commanding type."

"He's not, really, but his level of magic is higher than anybody else's here, so he's General essentially by default, I guess. He hates taking responsibility for men under his command, though, so whenever we go to battle, he usually delegates control to his sub-General, a man called Hermann Faber. In fact, it's strange that he decided to even join the strike force today. Normally he's hiding in his workshop whenever it comes to trouble. It's not that he can't take care of himself in a fight. He just prefers not to have to."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Ren said absently, remembering the bolt of crackling blue lightning, the all-consuming inferno of hot orange fire. He shivered slightly, wondering for a brief moment whether Elly or Cecilia could do that too. "So, why do you think he actually chose to go out today, then?"

"My guess . . . he didn't want to babysit you," Cecilia said thoughtfully. "Remember I said he doesn't like taking responsibility for other people? I think when it comes down to it, he'd rather take care of a group of spellcasters that he knows, rather than a kid he doesn't. No offense, of course, but . . . Maho's a funny guy. A genius, for sure, but awfully strange with it."

"None taken," Ren mused. He thought on this for a moment, but then he became aware that they had come to a stop in front of a long, squat building that looked a little more dilapidated than the pristine edifices around it. It sat some way apart from the rest of the village, barely ten metres from the Spirit Wall that still flashed angry red colours.

Cecilia led him up a short flight of steps to the door, ignoring a sign that said 'Warning! Hazardous materials, dangerous creatures and delicate experiments inside! Do not enter.'

"Uh . . ." Ren said awkwardly, but Cecilia pushed open the door and practically dragged him in.

The interior of the building was, Ren had to admit, much like he would have expected something called a workshop – especially one owned by Maho – to look. It was spacious inside, with another short flight of steps leading down from the door to the marble floor, which was below ground level. The only light came from a series of small windows set along the tops of the long side walls, giving the space an eerie gloom.

Tables and piles of books lined each wall, with a single long wooden table stretching down the middle. While the table in the middle was empty save for the odd scrap of paper here and there, the ones set along the sides were groaning with piles of notes, arcane-looking ingredients, and other things Ren hesitated to even try to identify. On one of them, a beaker of red liquid was emitting puffs of pinkish smoke at regular intervals.

"Ooh," Cecilia breathed.

"You've not been in here before?" Ren asked weakly.

"Are you nuts? Maho's always in here. This has to be the first time in a hundred years he's left the workshop for long enough for me to take a look."

"So I'm just an excuse?" Ren chuckled.

"Partly," Cecilia admitted, skipping across to one of the tables on the left-hand wall and flicking through a couple of the books strewn across it. "This could take a while, though . . . here, you go down the right side. I know he's written a big paper on the nature of those Iehkti'na somewhere. No real clue where, unfortunately, so we'll have to look for it."

Ren sighed. "You don't . . . think ahead much, do you?" he said. He didn't really want to spend any longer trawling through the endless piles of books than he had to; Maho's workshop was starting to creep him out.

"Never," she said. "Still, life wouldn't be much fun if I did, would it?"

Ren shook his head in exasperation and crossed to the right-hand side of the long, narrow room to start flicking through books.

For a good ten minutes, there was silence as Ren picked up each book – none of them had titles or any other distinguishing marks on the cover – opened it to its first page and pored over the scribbled handwriting. It appeared these books had all been crafted and written by Maho himself; the jerky, irregular handwriting seemed as if it could belong to no other than the awkward giant.

The subjects of the books varied widely, from thick tomes on botany and chemistry to catalogues of incantations in a language Ren couldn't even recognise, let alone read. Many of them, however, seemed to deal with something called the Soul Bonds. One of them, a small red book which seemed quite new despite its well-thumbed pages, seemed to contain an introduction of sorts. Curious despite his misgivings about rooting through the magician's library, Ren struggled to decipher a couple of pages of the scrawled, messy handwriting.

"The nature of the Soul Bonds is an enigmatic one. While it is certain that they came into being at the same time as we – and our world – did, about seven hundred years past. The Soul Bonds are integral in the stability of both our worlds, for if they are allowed to dissolve, the worlds will drift apart, with disastrous consequences. It is almost certain that the Bonds were crafted by the same person – or persons – who brought our world into existence, for they bear identical magical signatures.

"The first time it became evident that the Soul Bonds were collapsing, we sought a means to prevent our destruction. I had ascertained that a great amount of yehkti was necessary to re-cast the Soul Bonds, yet not of the kind that is found within this world. It is thus that the need for a yehktira came about. Through a concerted and risky effort, eleven of our strongest spellcasters journeyed through the second ring and into the first, using all of their combined power to create the Dreamlight, the artifact that allows a mortal to pass between the rings as we do. They bestowed this powerful item on a man known as Drayden, who then became the first yehktira. They brought him into the third ring, and his yehkti healed the Soul Bonds.

"Drayden was never needed again, for the Soul Bonds remained stable. Before he died, he passed the Dreamlight on to his son, a man with a far greater measure of yehkti than his father. He also was needed only once in his lifetime. This went on for more than five centuries, until Drayden's line died out. His last descendant handed the Dreamlight on to a woman who would go on to found the contest known as the Pokemon League. Her name was Martha Birch. With my aid, Martha discovered some form of link between those who have great amounts of yehkti and those who perform the most admirably in the tests called Pokemon battles. As a result, she agreed to hand the Dreamlight on to whoever could defeat her in battle, and the tradition of the Dreamlight that lives on today began.

"Twice in her lifetime, Martha was required to enter the third ring and stabilise the Soul Bonds. We saw no real need for consternation at this stage, however, for the Soul Bonds remained relatively stable.

"Over the next hundred years, however, as the Dreamlight was passed from hand to hand, the frequency with which the yehktira was forced to enter the third ring increased dramatically. As of the year 685 (which the humans call 1985), it was necessary to renew the Soul Bonds twice annually.

"It was also around this time that the Iehkti'na began to show an interest in the yehktira and their world. Slowly at first, the smallest of the beasts were able to slip through into the second ring and harass the bearer of the Dreamlight. In these early days, a few small Iehkti'na found their way through to the first ring, though they are all believed to have been trapped there, haunting the nightmares of humans and Pokemon, as they are not strong enough to push through into the humans' world. It soon became customary for a powerful spirit to act as the yehktira's escort during these times, and the attacks were dealt with swiftly.

"Now, the Soul Bonds are deteriorating faster than ever. They reach a critical level within a day and a half of being renewed, so the yehktira must navigate the rings nightly to refresh and recover them. The attacks of the Iehkti'na are growing bolder, stronger and more frequent, and it appears it will soon reach the point where the yehktira's escort will not be able to guard against them.

"The current yehktira and Champion of the Pokemon League, Steven Stone, is giving his best effort to work towards a solution in his world, as am I in ours, but I fear our efforts will be in vain. The only one who can truly bring the Soul Bonds back to full strength is the one who cast them in the first place, and the knowledge of who that could be is lost in the sands of time, as is, surely, the man himself."

"Ren! I found it!"

Ren blinked a few times, almost dropping the book. Suddenly, it seemed like he had stumbled into something far more serious than he could have imagined. His head was spinning. Soul Bonds? Hadn't Elly said something like that the first time she had met her? Then again, she had also said that the Iehkti'na came from the first ring, which he had recently found to not be the case at all. What did she mean by that?

"Ren!" Cecilia crossed to the middle table and plonked a thick-looking book down on it. "You awake over there?"

"Uh . . . yeah." Ren slid the book back into the middle of the pile he had found it in. "Just daydreaming." For some reason, he had the strangest feeling he should keep what he had come across quiet. He moved over to look at what Cecilia had dug out. The royal purple-bound tome's pages were yellowed and crisp with age, though the black ink was still clearly legible.

"You'd do well to read this page," Cecilia said, indicating a spot in the book. "It deals with the origin of the Iehkti'na. It reads a little bit like a fairy story, but that's Maho for you. He's . . . quirky . . . like that. You read, and I'll be over here, um . . . doing something else." She slipped away quickly, down towards the far end of the workshop.

Ren watched her go with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Then, shaking himself out of the strange fugue in which he found himself, he began to read once again.

"Over six hundred years ago, the world of dreams emerged from the void. Brought into existence by a man of whom we know very little, we were not born like humans, hatched like Pokemon or grown like plants. We simply were. And so, as we were, were the Iehkti'na. As we came to be in the third ring, so they came to be in the first.

"In those first years of turmoil, the Iehkti'na preyed upon the dreams of the humans as they slept in the first ring. Many escaped to the human world and caused great chaos. Although we did not wish to endanger ourselves for the sake of the humans, we felt obligated to them, for it was certainly thanks to one of their number that we came to be – though how, we know not. Also, we knew not of the significance of the humans' role in the maintenance of the Soul Bonds at this time. So it was that we, headstrong and drunk on our own power, waged war against the Iehkti'na.

"It was a long and bloody conflict, but in the end, we triumphed. While strong and many, the Iehkti'na were fuelled by anger and hatred of all that was good. While few, we knew we fought to save our creator. We defeated the Iehkti'na, but could not destroy them. So instead, we brought them to the third ring and sealed them away so they could bother the humans – and us – no more.

"We thought that was the end of it. But before long, the Iehkti'na broke their bonds and once again attacked us. We beat them back, but were unable to seal them again. Again and again they came, and they were stronger each time. Eventually, tired from endless war and fatigued from beating them back, we set about creating the Spirit Wall, which we set around the Glade of Shifting Light. This wall not only prevents any of evil intent from entering, but also disguises our presence. We are hidden deep within the forest, and the Iehkti'na know this, but they know not where, for the woods are vast, and we beat them back every time they come near the edge.

"So the cycle goes on. Eventually, Drayden came to us, and then his son, and his son's son, and his son's son's son. Throughout history, nothing significant has changed, and we carry on with the same security as we always have. Now and then, the drums of war are sounded, and we stand forth to fight back the evil. Always, we are triumphant. No men have fallen in battle since the great wars of the early days. While the Iehkti'na, who are soulless bodies, fall like corn before the scythe, our bodiless souls are incredibly resilient. We do not age, we do not grow sick. We do not die, unless we are killed.

"And so the cycle goes on."

Ren blinked. "That sounds . . . ominous." He set the book down and wandered after Cecilia, who, it turned out, was carefully examining a beaker of some viscous green sludge, swirling it around the bowl of the glass vessel with her eye glued to the neck.

"Oh, hello, Ren," she said absently as he approached, not taking her eyes off the gooey substance. There was a sudden poof as she spoke, sending a cloud of steam squeezing out of the beaker. "Ow!" she squealed, dropping the container.

Ren stretched out a hand and caught it with a brief sigh of relief, trying not to think about what would have happened if it had shattered. "You all right?" he asked.

"My eye stings like you wouldn't believe," she grumbled, rubbing it sulkily. "That was mean of him, to leave something like that lying around."

Ren cast a glance down at the still-steaming beaker in his hand before settling it carefully back on the table. Somehow, he didn't really think it had been intended as a booby trap. He didn't say anything, though.

"So, are you a little more educated now?" she asked, still squinting slightly.

"A bit . . ." he said slowly, trying to piece together the stories told in the two texts he had been reading. "One little thing struck me as strange, though . . . the book referred to the Iehkti'na as being 'soulless bodies' and you as 'bodiless souls'. I think Elly said something about that as well, but . . . it's strange. You do have bodies, don't you? I mean . . . you're there. I can touch you."

Cecilia took a deep breath. "It's funny like that . . . just because we have physical form here doesn't mean we have bodies. What it means is that we can't cross into your world and take a corporeal form there like the Iehkti'na can. If they pass through the first ring and out through somebody's dream, they can actually manifest themselves and cause chaos. If we try it, we end up trapped there, intangible, drained of all our power and sometimes even unable to speak – what you might know as . . . ghosts."

"You mean . . . Ghost-type Pokemon are-"

"No, not from what Steven and the others have told us. Ghost-type Pokemon have always been around, and they're just that – the corrupted, departed souls of those who were once alive. When you see a ghost that looks human . . . it's one of ours." She was oddly quiet, and it took Ren a moment to figure out why. She must have personally known every single one of the spirits that tried to cross to his world, and must have watched them all leave over the last seven hundred years, waiting for a homecoming that would never arrive.

"I'm upsetting you," he said quickly. "I'll, uh, stop now."

"No, it's fine," she demurred. "I'm used to it. We get a lot of different yehktira through here now – often a new one every year thanks to the Pokemon League – and we interact with them far more than we used to. The issue usually comes up sooner or later, and I guess we owe you that much . . . to know. It's not like it affects you directly, but you're pretty much a part of our world now. Now more than ever, actually, now that it's necessary to bring you in here every night."

"That's a funny thought," Ren murmured, looking around the long, dim room. "I can see what Steven meant when he said it changed him . . ."

"He said that?"

"Yeah. I mean, I've only been here twice now, but it really makes you wonder about a few things. Like . . . I always thought ghosts were just ghosts – if they existed at all – but it turns out they're something very different, and a little sad. I'm a little scared, to be perfectly honest – what else might be completely different to how I had imagined it? Everything I know could be wrong . . ."

"I know it's hard," Cecilia murmured, resting a hand lightly on his arm. "It does change you, but you can't expect it to happen . . . well, overnight. There's a lot of information that's coming into your brain at once, and you're having trouble coping. It will come, though."

"Did . . . did the other yehktira ever have this problem?" Ren asked, his voice a little thick with a sudden onset of confused emotions.

"Some," she said matter-of-factly. "Well, I think they all did, but some showed it more than others. Steven just stood in a corner for an hour or two without saying anything to anyone, and then came out and went 'All right, I've got it now.' On the other hand . . . a couple of decades ago, we had a woman who absolutely freaked. She kept screaming, fainting and hyperventilating in equal measures. It took her weeks to get over the shock properly."

Ren grinned wryly. "I guess I'm taking it pretty well, all things considered," he said, feeling something of a weight lift off his shoulders as he said it.

"You're a smart kid, Ren," Cecilia told him quietly. "You can look at things and see them as they are, even if you don't realise it yourself."

"What . . . what do you mean?"

"Well, let's see . . . Elly told me that when she brought you to the Glade for the first time, you actually looked around while you passed through. Most humans we bring here tend to either stare blankly ahead or look at the ground. The ones that do look around, more often than not, tend not to see much. They just gawk. Elly seemed to get the impression that you actually saw, instead of just looking."

"There's a difference?"

"Between seeing and looking? Of course. A huge difference. It's the difference between you and just about everyone else in the human world, for sure."

Ren frowned slightly as a thought that had been niggling at him all day suddenly sprang to the front of his mind. "How do you know so much about the human world, Cecilia?" he asked. "I mean, if everyone who tries to go there . . . you know . . ."

"You must think I'm a fool, Ren Goodwin," she chided him playfully, rapping him on the head. "I'm seven hundred years old, and I've met dozens of different humans from all over the place. Steven Stone in particular was extremely helpful, actually. Like you, he seemed to take a genuine interest in our world, and because of that, we reciprocated that interest. The council often took to simply sitting and listening to him talk for hours. He was such a good talker, despite how quiet and formal he could be."

"Oh," Ren said bashfully. "Of course. That would make sense. Actually, that sounds like . . . a good idea. I'd be happy to do that with you sometime – if you don't mind, that is. You could maybe tell me a little bit more about this world, too."

"Ren Goodwin," Cecilia said, a flicker of amusement dancing in her sea-green eyes, "I do believe you're hitting on me."

"I-I am?" Ren stuttered, confused. "I-I didn't notice-" He stopped when he noticed that Cecilia was laughing, a light, musical laugh that filled the cavernous room like the peals of a bell. He chuckled nervously.

"Oh, Ren," Cecilia giggled. "You're too easy to tease. Come on, let's get out of here before Maho comes back – or I break something." She raised her eyebrows guiltily before taking his hand and pulling him back towards the door.

Ren stumbled along in her wake, pondering just how strange Cecilia could get. At the door, she let go of his hand and almost flew down the stairs to the grass below, suddenly extremely energetic. Ren followed her down, half-smiling despite himself.

At the bottom of the stairs, he froze. "Cecilia," he said gravely. "You know what you said just now about how I 'see' things that other people might not?"

She frowned. "Yes?"

"Well, I was just wondering . . . do you see those Iehkti'na as well, or is it just me?"
 
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Misheard Whisper

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Chapter Fifteen - Die Kämpferin für Gerechtigkeit

Chapter Fifteen
Die Kämpferin für Gerechtigkeit

The nightmares appeared from everywhere, slipping out from shadowy gaps between buildings and dropping silently from the eaves. Within seconds, Ren and Cecilia found themselves completely surrounded by at least twenty of the dark, foreboding shapes. Their opponents were of varying shapes and sizes; some were barely knee-high on Ren while others were hulking, looming masses of shadow over two metres tall.

They stood, waiting, their roughly circular formation unmoving as they regarded Ren with various frightening eyes. Some were narrow and red, others huge and blazing blue. One particularly large specimen – standing directly opposite Maho's workshop – had three eyes, wisps of green fire trailing from them as it shifted on the spot, seemingly waiting for them to make the first move. Some – much like the ones he and Elly had encountered in the second ring – had no eyes at all.

Cecilia swore violently, the curse words sounding strange coming from one so slight and delicate. "How the hell did they get inside the Spirit Wall?"

"Doesn't matter," said Ren practically, drawing the short sword from his belt. He felt slightly better for having it in his hand, but he knew it wouldn't do him much good. "They're inside, so we're going to have to work out how after we deal with them."

"Easier said than done," Cecilia grumbled. "I'm not used to fighting this many at once."

"You're more used to it than I am, for sure," Ren said tightly, looking around for a way to escape. There was nothing. Other than back into Maho's workshop – which was probably a dead end – the Iehkti'na had totally blocked off every possible way out of the small courtyard in which they now stood.

"This is uncanny," Cecilia muttered, taking up an fighting stance. It didn't look like any martial art Ren had ever seen, so he hoped she, at least, knew what she was doing. "Why aren't they attacking?"

"They normally do?"

"They're blind, stupid killers," she said, frowning as she tried to keep her eyes on all of their opponents at once. "They charge out and all attack at once. No variation, no tactics, no intelligence. Laying an ambush is something completely new . . . not to mention that they got inside the Spirit Wall to begin with, which should be impossible. Something is very, very wrong here. And as long as they don't attack, they've got the advantage over us."

"What? Why?"

"Think, Ren. It's you they want, although they'll kill me without a second thought. As long as they stay there, I can't get to any of them without leaving you unguarded. While you've got guts, you're not competent enough in a fight to hold them off long, if at all."

Ren shivered. The normally relaxed Cecilia was extraordinarily serious, and it unsettled him. Despite her composure, he could feel anxiety pouring off her in waves. That, and something else. Fear. Cecilia was scared, although he knew she would neither exhibit nor admit it. With a deep breath, he tightened his hand around the handle of his sword and held it ready in front of him, sweat already dampening the grip.

"You don't have to fight," Cecilia said. "I know humans have some compunction about killing living creatures, so I'd understand if you didn't want to. Not that they're exactly living, but I wouldn't expect that to work on your subconscious."

For a split second, images flashed through Ren's mind, unbidden. The melting Iehkti'na with its vinegar stench; the crackling, charred Iehkti'na with flashes of blue light dancing across its entire body; worst of all, the Iehkti'na he himself had sliced into with the very blade that he now held in his hand, disappearing in a blast of wind. "They're really . . . not alive?" he asked.

"No, they're not," Cecilia confirmed. "They're just empty husks. They don't think, they don't feel, they just are."

"Then I'll fight them," Ren said.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." Suddenly, Ren realised the absurdity of holding this conversation while surrounded by a patiently waiting group of the things. "If they ever get around to it, that is. What do you suppose they're waiting for?"

"If they were intelligent, I'd imagine they were waiting for one of us to make a move so they could cut us off from each other and kill us separately."

"But they're not?"

"So I thought, and so everybody thought."

"Don't make me start doubting myself now," Ren complained. "I just managed to convince myself that it was all right to kill them, but now you're just confusing me."

"Sorry! I'm nearly as confused as you are," Cecilia admitted, warily eyeing the nearest of the nightmares, a bulky, four-legged creature with a flat, solid-looking head.

"So, let's just assume for a minute that they actually are intelligent," Ren said, taking a deep breath to steady his heartbeat. As he calmed down, he felt his brain begin to work. "If they're doing what you say they are, they want to separate us, right?"

"Yes, but I don't see how that helps us too much."

"It's simple," Ren said, a slight smile coming to his face despite himself. "We don't split up. We take the fight to them, but we go together. That way, you can focus on doing your thing . . . whatever that 'thing' may be, and I'll just do my best to stay alive. Hopefully I can keep them off your back a little, too, though I really don't know how well that will work."

"You'd do that?"

"It's . . . it's probably our only chance of getting out of this, isn't it?"

"Well, yes," Cecilia admitted. "But I don't want you feeling you have to do it. It's not your job to fight Iehkti'na, you know. In fact, I feel kind of bad for letting you get into this situation."

Ren shook his head. "Stop that."

"Stop . . . what?" Cecilia shot him a confused look.

"You're worrying about me too much. Sure, I don't know what I'm doing. Sure, I can't swing a sword properly to save my life. But it doesn't mean you have to keep patronising me! I know you're not doing it on purpose, but it's starting to get on my nerves a little bit."

Cecilia fell silent for a moment. Ren wondered if he had offended her, but when he glanced over at her, she was smiling as if she knew something he didn't. "See?" she said.

"See . . . what?"

"You do see things," she told him. "Not just physical observation – I get the feeling you can look at a situation and read exactly what's happening. Most yehktira would be quite happy to let me worry about them in this situation. And it's not just a matter of pride, either. That's irrelevant at this point. But in any case, I'm sorry, Ren. I couldn't help looking down on you just a little bit. After all, I'm nearly seven hundred years your senior. But from now on, that changes. Better?"

With a slight thrill of some feeling he couldn't adequately describe, Ren realised that it was. "Much," he grinned. "Now I think we'd better get on with it before these things get bored of waiting."

"Good call," she said. "I say we go straight at the big one in the middle. It looks like some sort of leader, so if we take it out, we'll have a better chance. On three?"

He swallowed. "Sure."

Cecilia exhaled deeply and lowered her stance slightly. "One."

Ren took a deep breath, wrapping his hands still more firmly around the hilt of his sword; the thin sliver of metal was the only thing standing between him and a painful, confusing death.

"Two."

He cast his eyes around the circle of Iehkti'na. They were all far bigger and stronger than he was. All he could do was hope Cecilia could deal with them – and that he didn't screw up too badly.

"Three!"

Ren's legs were moving before his mind could even react. Short sword held high, heart rattling in his ribcage, he threw himself towards the three-eyed monstrosity. He was vaguely aware of a blur of movement beside him, but then it was gone and Cecilia was upon their opponent.

It was as if she had become liquid lightning. From a running start, she threw herself upwards, her movements slick and practised. Landing on the enormous beast's arm, she paused, jumped again and landed a devastating spinning kick straight in the Iehkti'na's torso with a sound like a cannon shot. Visible shockwaves rippled out from the point of impact, distorting the air and the surface of the beast as they did so.

Refocusing himself, Ren concentrated once more on catching up with Cecilia as she continued to rain blows on the massive nightmare. It was bigger than he had first thought, he realised as he drew nearer; it had to be at least seven metres tall. Regardless, he swung his sword with all the strength he could muster at the beast's knee – the highest point he could comfortably reach. The blade made contact with an unexpected boom sound, as if he had struck an enormous, hollow metal drum rather than a living creature.

The sword practically bounced off, almost twisting his wrist with the force. Still, the enormous Iehkti'na seemed to notice. It stepped backwards, moving its leg back from the blow. Before its foot even touched the ground, however, Cecilia bounced off its shoulder, delivering a debilitating punch to the face. Caught off balance, the Iehkti'na stumbled backwards and fell to the ground with a crash, crushing half a building as it did so.

"Come on!" Cecilia urged. Suddenly, she was beside him, grabbing his hand and tugging him onwards. He stumbled into a run, glancing back over his shoulder as he did so. The other Iehkti'na had been slow to move, he noted thankfully, but with the fall of their apparent leader, they had been spurred into action. A wave of shadows now washed after them, some more distinct than others, some blending into a gelatinous mass that bubbled and rushed after them. As Ren tore his eyes away to look forward again, he caught a brief glimpse of the nightmare that Cecilia had just decked, once more towering over its compatriots.

She never meant to fight them at all, he realised, letting his feet move automatically as Cecilia practically dragged him between rows of white marble buildings. But why didn't she tell me that? Despite what she said, she still looks down on me . . . no, that can't be it. He had seen something in her eyes while she was talking about their strategy – a glint of steel that told him she was prepared to fight to the bitter end. Looking back, it seemed obvious, but at the time he had not noticed anything. She must have seen the opening and decided to go for it, he decided, making himself feel a little better.

"Are you even awake?" Cecilia shouted at him as he stumbled for what must have been the tenth time. Still gripping his hand with her surprisingly strong fingers, she slowed her pace a little to run beside him, easily navigating through the maze of buildings as she peered worriedly into his eyes. "You look a little bit out of it," she said in a falsely casual manner.

"I'm fine," he said. "Where are we going?" He threw another glance over his shoulder; the Iehkti'na were still there, although a good way behind. He was beginning to run short of breath. While he was hardly unfit, the sustained dash was beginning to take the wind out of him. Cecilia, by contrast, seemed utterly relaxed, as if she were taking a stroll in Slateport Market.

"No idea," she said frankly. "I was kind of hoping you might."

"Me?" Ren panted incredulously. "You're the one who damn well lives here!"

"Worth a shot," she said airily before abruptly changing direction, just about wrenching Ren's arm out of its socket as she did so.

"Can you . . . let go?" he gasped as they squeezed between two buildings leaning towards each other at odd angles.

Cecilia looked a little miffed, but released his hand. Immediately, Ren found it easier to run, although he was still having trouble keeping up with the light-footed Cecilia. It was a little difficult to get his head around this slender creature being any kind of force to be reckoned with, but she had clearly proven that impression wrong just moments ago.

Suddenly, they turned a corner and the Spirit Wall towered over them, a massive blue sheet of energy, irradiated and pulsing with tinges of red. Cecilia came to a sudden halt, and Ren tripped and almost fell as he stopped as well.

"Why are we . . . stopping?" he asked as he bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to recover as much of his breath as he could.

Cecilia ignored him for a moment, looking back over his head with a look of mild consternation on her face. "Still coming," she murmured absently.

"What, really?" Ren turned to look. He had hoped that they might have lost the slow, lumbering Iehkti'na by now, but he could still see them. They were some distance away, and moving at no great speed, but the cloud of blackness was plowing steadily through the Glade of Shifting Light. He could see it above the roofs of the buildings. "Damn."

"We can't fight them here," Cecilia said. "Not with just the two of us. Our only chance is to meet up with the others . . . that'll be dangerous, but at this stage I don't believe we have any choice in the matter."

"You mean . . . outside the Glade? Where all the rest of the Iehkti'na are?"

She threw him a grin that made him shiver. "What's this? You're not scared, are you?"

Ren swallowed, half-wishing he could just wake up. "Never."

All thoughts of secrecy and silence apparently discarded, Cecilia practically flew through the forest. Ren could tell she was checking her pace for his benefit, but he still had a difficult time keeping her in sight. In the pitch blackness of the woods, she seemed to glow faintly. Although he could see no actual light emanating from her, he found he was barely able to navigate his way through the trees. It was certainly a puzzling phenomenon; while trees were rushing at him from the blackness at what seemed like a remarkable speed, he somehow managed to jink out of the way at the last moment every time.

What is this feeling? he wondered. It's like everything's slowing down . . .

They burst out of the forest and into the middle of a war zone. The eerie absence of noise that had pervaded the woods entirely vanished in an instant, replaced by the sounds of battle.

Even so, it was quieter than Ren would have expected. There was no gunfire; only the odd magical explosion sending multi-hued clouds smoking into the sky. The massed army of nightmares, stretching impossibly far across the grassy plain, fought silently as always, and there was hardly any noise coming from the spirits either. Occasionally, an indistinct command would be bellowed across the field, and a small group of combatants would advance, retreat or shift their attention to a different quarter.

Ren found that he and Cecilia had emerged onto the plain at the top of a small hill that afforded a decent view of the battlefield. Beyond a certain point on the ground, everything was a mass of writhing black. Millions of them, Ren thought in disbelief. He hadn't thought it possible that there were that many Iehkti'na in any world. They melded into one enormous, seething blot on the landscape, hundreds of thousands waiting to step in as soon as their comrades fell.

And fall they did, Ren noticed. A narrow line of spirits – pitifully few in number compared to the legions of nightmares pressing in from all sides – encircled the hill they stood on, slashing, stabbing or shooting the oncoming waves of nightmares, who were collapsing in droves. None of the opponents seemed very big, although it was hard to tell from such a distance. He was sharing the hill, Ren noticed abruptly, with a large white tent. There was no apparent entry on the forest side of the canvas monolith, so he moved around the side of it.

The front was a hive of activity. Two huge flaps had been drawn back from the tent and fastened to the roof, so almost the whole front of the structure was open to the battlefield. Inside were a large number of spirits. Few of them were dressed in battle gear, but they all appeared very busy, dashing around, waving papers and generally getting in each others' way. Still, Ren noticed after a few seconds, there was order. A chaotic kind of order, to be sure, but order nonetheless. Every few seconds, a runner would either dash off towards the front line or return from it. Amidst it all, standing calmly in the mouth of the tent like a policeman directing traffic, was a single man.

He drew Ren's attention towards him inexorably, although there was nothing special about him that Ren could identify just from looking. He was of average height, with a slight build and brown hair flecked with grey, pulled back into a tight ponytail. He was wearing a white toga with a purple sash, which – while undoubtedly odd – was no stranger than anybody else's costume. "Who's that?" he asked aloud.

"Ah," said Cecilia, who had come up behind him unnoticed. "The guy in the stupid bedsheet?"

"Well . . . I guess?" Ren said, slightly uncomfortable with her making fun of somebody who was clearly in a position of authority.

"That's Cicero. Named himself after some guy from your world, I think. He's one of the Four Generals," she said.

"There are four? Wait, you said Maho was one, right?"

"Yep. The army functions under four units – Tactical, Magical, Armed, and Unarmed, largely ranked in that order. Each unit has a General that supervises all activity in his division. Maho is the Spellcaster General – he'll be the one raising hell over there," she noted, pointing to a spot on the battle lines where a small stormcloud seemed to be whirling at ground level, spitting bolts of blue lightning into the enemy forces.

Suddenly worried about their pursuers, Ren glanced back towards the forest. Had the Iehkti'na from the Glade followed them through yet?

"They won't catch us yet," Cecilia said unconcernedly, as if reading his mind. "Anyway, we need to find-"

"Cecilia! Ren Goodwin! What in the worlds are you doing here?"

Ren turned to see a small, rotund man hurrying towards them from the base of the hill. After a second, he recognised him as Lucius Balthazar, one of the elders on the council. "Well, it's kind of the safest place to be right now, I guess," Ren said wryly.

Lucius' eyes just about bugged out of his head. "Are you mad, boy? Elly will kill you when she finds out! Or she'll kill you, at the very least," he amended, gesturing helplessly at Cecilia.

"Lucius, listen to me!" she snapped. "We don't have a choice in being here! There are Iehkti'na in the Glade!"

Ren didn't think it was possible for Lucius Balthazar to look any more confused and shocked than he already did, but the bald man managed it somehow. "Wh-what?" he spluttered. "H-how? Not possible!"

"It is," Cecilia ground out.

"Uh-oh, that's the serious face," Lucius said, suddenly regaining his composure and nodding. "Right. Ah . . . come with me, we'll talk to Cicero. Walk and talk, you two," he urged, chivvying them through the crowd towards the General. "How many were there? No, on second thoughts, don't answer that. You'd just have to repeat it in a minute anyway."

Cicero had moved by the time they reached him; he was leaning on a large table upon which was spread an enormous, detailed map of the surrounding area, complete with a semicircle of red, green and yellow pins arrayed around a series of lines Ren recognised as the hill they were standing on. He swallowed uncomfortably as he glanced at the mass of blue pins pressing in from all sides except the forest.

The Tactical General traced half a dozen lines on the map with his finger, nodding and shaking his head as a handful of officers – or so Ren presumed – clustered around him, listening intently. Ren watched as Cicero handed out hastily scribbled messages on slips of paper to each of them before sending them off with a whirl of his hand. In the same movement, he turned and marched away from the table, only to stop as he came face to face with Ren.

They were about the same height, Ren noticed, with the spirit being only an inch or two taller. For a moment, Ren stared into the General's sharp hazel eyes, until they blinked and they both stepped back. Unsure whether he should salute, Ren made do with a slight bow, which Cicero returned.

"You must be Ren Goodwin," he said simply.

"That's me," Ren said.

"You have good eyes," Cicero said thoughtfully, tapping his chin with a spindly finger. "The eyes of a tactician. Am I right?"

Ren thought briefly of his Pokemon battles, back home in his own world, of his extensive plans, strategies and countermeasures. "I guess so," he shrugged.

"Don't guess!" Cicero snapped, the sudden sharpness in his voice sending an unpleasant tingle down his spine. "Never guess. Always know! If you don't know, make it your business to find out! That is the motto of the Tactical Division's Intelligence Corps. Made that up myself. I think you and I are going to get along splendidly, but not now. I have a battle to oversee." He turned and started to walk away, but then snapped back towards Ren with a thoughtful look on his face. "Now that I think of it, you were meant to be under the guard of Miss Cecilia here back in the Glade of Shifting Light. You must have some reason to be here rather than there, correct?"

"Well, actually-"

"The Iehkti'na have infiltrated the Glade, and they tried to kill you both. Their numbers were too many, so you fled here to find safety amongst friendly forces. Correct?"

"You knew? So why did you ask?"

"Wrong! I did not know!" Cicero said proudly, raising an admonishing finger.

"So you guessed? But you just said never to-"

"Ah, but what I did was not guesswork. I simply sorted through the possible outcomes and came up with the only plausible one given the circumstances."

"Really? There were no other possible explanations?"

"The next most likely was that you had developed a romantic fixation on Felicia Darkstorm and persuaded or forced Miss Cecilia to accompany you here so you could be by her side. So no, I think my scenario seems to be quite the most likely."

Ren felt his face heating up despite the obvious untruth of the suggestion. "I don't even-"

"Jokes aside, Mr. Goodwin, we must take this seriously," Cicero said, turning and striding away towards the front of the tent. "Walk with me!" he commanded.

Ren trotted along beside him, feeling rather overcome by the man's strange personality. While he was probably the most normal of the spirits he had met so far, Cicero was still exceedingly strange. He was joking just now? But he said it with such a straight face.

Cicero continued to walk through the crowd at a brisk pace, accepting memos, scribbling notes and passing them on as he did so. "We must – ah, thank you, Perkins – determine how the Iehkti'na passed – take this to Shantelle, soldier – the Spirit Wall. We'll need to work with the Spellcaster General and his experts for that, so that must wait until after the battle. No, the left flank is fine, I dispatched some of the Fourth Division there a moment ago. What we need to do now, however, is make sure we are not outflanked, for it is clear the enemy are behind us as well as in front."

"Do we have enough . . . forces to do that?" Ren asked worriedly. The line at the front looked pretty thin as it was.

"Of course," Cicero said, beckoning over a young man in a black coat. He bent over and spoke into the man's ear in a low, urgent tone for a few seconds. The man nodded and dashed away. "There will be a rearguard in place within ninety seconds," Cicero told Ren. "You have done your part for now, though I would talk with you immediately after the battle. I cannot risk sending you into the field, of course, so if you would be so kind as to find a corner and sit down, we can proceed as usual. Miss Cecilia, of course, will be joining the fray, I imagine?"

Cecilia glanced uncertainly at Ren. "I don't know . . ." she said slowly. "He's my responsibility."

"I'll be fine." Ren waved her on. "It's not like anything's going to happen to me here, is it?"

"Of course it's not," said Cicero tightly. "While the Tactical Division is not, strictly speaking, a combat unit, you can rest assured that our yehktira will be just fine with us."

Cecilia's eyes narrowed, but she nodded, threw Ren one last wink, and dashed away, towards the battle.

What was that? Ren wondered. Had he imagined it, or was there some tension in the air? Deciding to think about it later, he put his head down and, with a final nod to Cicero, dodged his way through the crowd of spirits within the command centre towards a place where it seemed likely he would find some kind of respite from the hubbub.
 

Misheard Whisper

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Chapter Sixteen - Totalen Krieg

Chapter Sixteen
Totalen Krieg


Ren stayed in his corner for a good fifteen minutes before boredom overtook him. During that time, however, he did his best to make some sense of the hubbub going on around him. There were fewer spirits in the tent than he had originally thought – perhaps no more than two dozen – but the intensity and speed of their operations made them seem like a much greater host. The apparent chaos was, in fact, not chaos at all, he noticed. There were a lot of people moving around, passing in front of each other and sidling past tables with precariously balanced stacks of notes, but none of them ever collided or had to stop for someone else. Contrary to the apparent disorganisation, the level of coordination was beyond freakish – it was supernatural.


After learning that he could not make out any of the frantic conversations going on around him, no matter how hard he strained his ears, Ren's thoughts turned to other things – specifically, the battle raging outside. From his nook at ground level between two tables, he did not have a very good view of anything going on outside. If he listened carefully, he could make out vague sounds of warfare over the noise around him, but he could see nothing more than a few floating shadows in the sky. Peering through the legs of half a dozen trestle tables and ten or so spirits, he could just make out the louring mass of nightmares stretching back for what looked to be miles. Every time he stood up to try and get a better look, he was hastily and politely pushed back down again by someone passing by.


Seems I can't do anything, Ren grumbled to himself. Suddenly, he became aware of a hubbub at the rear of the tent. His head whipped around instinctively to follow the noise, even though all he could see there was a blank canvas wall. From the sounds of it, the Iehkti'na that he had encountered in the village had come crashing out of the forest at last. Biting his lip, Ren continued to stare at the back wall of the tent, listening to the sounds of battle outside. They were much closer and louder than the fighting on the plain; he could hear thuds, clangs and screeches as the spirits' weapons made contact with the nightmares' strange, pseudo-metallic bodies. Every now and again, he even heard a cry of pain.


Abruptly, there was a great creaking, splintering crash, causing Ren to jump. It sounded like a tree being toppled over. There was a stamping noise, a roar from the rear of the tent that made him flinch again, and then the canvas was torn asunder by hands made of pure darkness.


Ren got to his feet hastily as the Tactical Division broke and fled, tumbling out of the front of the tent as fast as their legs could carry them. Ren remained frozen to the spot, staring straight at the enormous tear in the canvas. Three glowing green eyes peered through the gap, arranged in a triangular formation atop a large, shapeless head. It was the same Iehkti'na that he and Cecilia had knocked down back in the Glade. In the gap past its smoky, shadowy body, he could see what had until recently been an enormous, proud tree; it was now lying on the ground, apparently having been used as some sort of club, by the sound of things.


Ren forced himself to move, to back away slowly. As soon as his foot shifted, however, the Iehkti'na roared. Apart from the dying scream of the Iehkti'na that Maho had barbecued in the second ring, he had never heard any of the nightmares making any kind of noise – something which he had thought odd. He probably should have been grateful for it, he realised now, stumbling backwards with his hands over his ears. While the cry of the dying nightmare had been horrific in its own way, this sound was completely different. It was infinitely louder, shaking the entire world with its volume; it was like a ghastly, otherworldly amalgamation of the soundtrack to every bad dream he had ever had.


The sound spurred him into motion again – or perhaps it was the shockwaves from the sound itself, he thought – and he dashed out of the tent. The huge nightmare followed him, tearing the tent apart, crushing tables under its feet and scattering piles of paperwork like a flock of startled Wingull. Ren ran down the side of the hill, only realising halfway down that he was heading directly for a far larger host of nightmares. He came to a halt at the bottom of the hill amongst the panicked members of the Tactical Division, who were milling around in various states of confusion. Cicero was standing a few metres away from him, trying to restore order, but he was evidently having little success.


The Iehkti'na juggernaut slowed its pace as it reached the top of the slope, gazing down upon the battle. Behind it, more of its brethren stalked forward, halting at the top of the hill just behind their leader. Ren shivered. What had happened to the fighters that Cicero had supposedly dispatched to cover the rear?


By this point, those holding back the waves of Iehkti'na coming from the front had realised the situation. They backed up and tightened their ranks, the flanks of the line moving around to close the circle around Ren, Cicero and the rest of those who could not fight for themselves. Ren looked around in horror as the horde of nightmares pressed forward, surrounding them on all sides. They stayed just out of reach of the spirits' weapons, although archers continued to send volleys into their ranks. Ignoring the arrows, the Iehkti'na stood silently, as if waiting for orders.


"
Suddenly this doesn't look so good," Ren muttered. They were completely surrounded. On one side was the shallow incline of the hill, blocked by the crowd of large nightmares that Ren and Cecilia had encountered in the Glade. On every other side was a sea of black, shifting and rippling like grass in the breeze – dark, hideous, polluted grass.

"
You'll be fine," said a curt voice from beside him. Ren jumped.

"
Elly!"

"
The one and only," she said. "What's your point?"

"Nothing," Ren said. "But, well . . . you look like hell. Are you all right?" Her hair had come out of her ponytail, and it was matted with blood – a purplish colour, Ren noticed. Her leather suit was torn and covered in burn marks, and several of the dangling buckles had been sliced off. There was a long cut running down the length of her left arm, leaking violet blood down onto her hand. In her right hand, she held her sword, dull with smoke and dirt.

"Why wouldn't I be all right?" she snapped. "I can look after myself, unlike some people! Why are you here, anyway? Didn't I tell you to stay with Cecilia in the Glade?"

Ren sighed. "Yes, but . . . oh, just look for yourself. You see those ones up on the hill, right?"


"Of course! I'm not blind! Hang on, do you mean to say . . ." A look of horror crossed her face.

"Ah, there it is," Ren said wryly.

"That's impossible! They couldn't have come from the Glade! The Spirit Wall keeps out all of the Iehkti'na!"

"
Well, it seems those guys didn't get the memo," Ren said with a shrug. "And besides, when was the last time any of them got to the Spirit Wall to prove it? My impression was that they didn't know where you were."

Ellie growled something incomprehensible, sticking her sword in the ground and tying her hair back out of her face again with a piece of string. When she took the blade up again, she spun it around in a wide arc that came dangerously close to Ren's head before resting it casually on her shoulder as if it were a baseball bat.


He ducked with a surprised yelp. "Hey! Watch where you're spinning that thing!"


She glanced over at him as if she had entirely forgotten he was there. "Wouldn't have hit you even if you hadn't moved," she said casually. "Do you take me for a fool?"


"
Um-"

"Do you, Ren?" She glared at him.

"No?" he tried.

"Good. Now, I want you to stay here."

"I'm not going anywhere," Ren said ruefully, gesturing around at the hordes of nightmares standing impassively on all sides.

"Dumbass. I meant stay right here where none of the bastards can get you. You've killed one, but that doesn't mean you'll be able to kill another one, never mind the dozens you'll find yourself up against if you try and put yourself on the front line. So you will stay here with Cicero and the rest of the First Division, and you will pray to whatever deity you believe in that we get out of this alive."

For a moment, Ren considered passing a snide comment on how obviously worried she was, but the look in her eyes told him it would be a very bad idea. Instead, he simply nodded and said, "I will. Good luck."


Elly snorted with laughter as she walked off to take her place in the circle. "There's no such thing as luck."


"
Suit yourself," Ren said quietly before moving closer to the centre of the group.

"Oh, splendid, you're all right," said Cicero, who had apparently not noticed him. "That's good, I don't know what we'd do without you. Unfortunately, it looks like we've been reduced to unnecessary baggage, you and I."

"
What, really?" Ren said, slipping slightly as he took up a position next to the General. The ground at the base of the hill had been churned into mud by the hundreds of feet battling back and forth across it. "Don't you have, you know, commanding to do?"

Cicero sighed regretfully, brushing a clod of dirt off his otherwise pristine white toga. "Unfortunately, my boy, we find ourselves in a position where tactics and strategy are all but useless. For one thing, I have no better a view of the battlefield than any other from this vantage point. For another, we are entirely surrounded, and the only thing for it is to fight until the end . . . whatever that end may be. I do not believe we will lose this battle, but I am somewhat unnerved. The Iehkti'na are behaving awfully strangely today. They suddenly ceased their attack, which is unheard of. They are mindless beasts that exist only to kill and cause chaos, and as such they have no form of order or hierarchy that we know of. Until today, we had no evidence of any kind of leadership or organised army, but suddenly . . . if this keeps up, I may have to rethink my entire method of doing battle," he mused.


Ren blinked. The man sure could talk.


There was a stir to Ren's left, and he glanced quickly across to the hill. The enormous, three-eyed nightmare had taken a step down the hill, followed by three of the others that stood with him: one that looked like a giant spider with far too many legs, one quadruped with short, stumpy limbs and a flat head, and a curious, floating clot of blackness that Ren didn't remember seeing at the Glade. All four had the same burning green eyes.


The ground shook when they walked.


Weapons at the ready, every warrior in the circle fixed their eyes on these four behemoths. Their progress was slow but steady, their rumbling footsteps the only sound on the enormous, grassy plain. Ren held his breath, feeling sweat trickle down his cheek. The four nightmares exuded an intangible pressure that seemed to crush his will to stand upright. He struggled to retain control of his legs, suddenly more terrified than he had ever been in his life. He knew without being told that he was witnessing a momentous occasion in history, even if he had no idea what was going to happen.


Near the bottom of the hill, the four nightmares stopped again. They stood, elevated above the spirits, as if to convince them of their superiority. It was unnecessary, Ren thought wryly. Their leader seemed to have grown even further since Ren had encountered it in the Glade. Eight metres? Ten?


Ren shivered, suddenly aware of how cold he was, despite the sun that shone brightly over the battlefield. He could smell blood tinged with ash.


The leading nightmare lifted an enormous, shadowy hand and spoke in a deep, rumbling voice that seemed to shake the very air it passed through. Ren heard spirits around him let out gasps of surprise as the creature's words rippled through the air, laden with power.


Listening intently, Ren realised he couldn't understand a word. The nightmare was speaking the spirits' language, by the sound of it. He supposed it made sense – the Iehkti'na would have had no reason to learn his language.


"
What did it say?" Ren hissed to Cicero when the nightmare fell silent after a few seconds.

Cicero seemed to have been drained of all his energy. He stared at the creature open-mouthed, his hands listless at his sides.


Ren repeated the question, more insistently this time.


Cicero jerked as if suddenly woken from a comfortable sleep. "I-it said . . ." He stopped, gulped and started again. "It was speaking a very old form of our language said . . . 'You who oppose all that we are, know this: my name is Nekros, and I am thy end.' I . . . I didn't even think they were capable of speaking."


Ren suddenly recalled his experience in the second ring the previous night. Bad dreams?, the nightmare had whispered to him as he had struggled desperately against it. What had that been about? How had it spoken to him?


A sharp, clear voice rang out from somewhere on the circle. Elly, speaking in the same tongue that Nekros had. She sounded angry, and Ren didn't suppose he could blame her.


"You are not our end," Cicero translated in a whisper. "You are only another of those who foolishly seek to destroy us. We have never given in to your kind before, and we will not start now."

Nekros laughed, a deep, guttural sound that made the cold sweat on Ren's brow break out anew. He then spoke again at some length, to which Elly replied instantly and furiously. This went back and forth for some time, the attention of every being on the plain focused entirely on the two.


"
Ah, basically . . . Nekros is demanding that we surrender and allow ourselves to be killed, and Felicia is refusing outright, demanding instead that they leave." Cicero paused as Nekros spoke again. "He says . . . 'We shall withdraw for today. Take this as a warning for how simply thou art undone. If we were to make ultimate war this day, you would undoubtedly fall, but we wish to lose as few of our brethren as is possible. We shall consolidate our strength, and next time, thou shalt fall to a man.'"

Ren shuddered. The threat seemed quite valid, considering the vast army of nightmares surrounding the spirits. "Do you think-" he began, but was cut off by Cicero as Nekros spoke again.


"He's talking about you!" the General muttered, pushing Ren behind him with one hand.

"What? What's he saying?"

"He says he knows you are here, and he wishes you to be aware that you would be spared. Because the Soul Bonds are weak, he would allow you to live, entering the world of dreams each night to renew them, then returning home in peace. He . . . urges you to accept, saying that . . . they would meddle less with you than we do." Cicero's face twisted in disgust. Elly interrupted Nekros at this point, her voice rising almost to a shriek. "And Miss Darkstorm . . ." Cicero said weakly.

". . . is being Miss Darkstorm," Ren finished. "Yep. Let me guess – it's something along the lines of 'Go to hell!', right?"

"Pretty much," Cicero agreed. "A little more polite, but not much."

With one final, parting rumble, Nekros stepped off the hill and past the spirits, his far less humanoid cronies trailing behind him. They were followed by the rest of the small force that had been waiting at the top of the hill. The ranks of the smaller Iehkti'na parted for them as they passed, joining back up in their wake and following them away. The spirits watched cautiously as the mass of nightmares receded, drawing back from the circle and moving away in silence. Nobody moved for nearly ten minutes, until the last of the black wave disappeared over a ridge in the distance and fell out of sight.


As if in response to an invisible, inaudible signal, every warrior in the circle relaxed, weapons dropping to the ground in a chorus of thuds that made Ren flinch. Several of them dropped to the ground; all of them shared the same blank, stunned look that Ren was sure must be evident on his own face. Their expressions, though, were tinged with a stronger kind of disbelief. Looking around, Ren saw a proud, strong people who had just been essentially handed their own heads on a platter.


There seemed to be an unspoken acknowledgement in the air as everybody silently moved back towards the forest. Not a word was spoken as Ren followed them to the top of the hill; as he put his back in and helped them push the fallen tree off several of their number; as the wounded were picked up and carried back through the forest; as the spirits of the Glade retreated, largely unscathed but undoubtedly beaten. They all stared straight ahead, seeming not to see what was in front of them. There was no hurry, no sense of urgency. They simply walked, a macabre, depressed parade winding through the forest.


At the edge of the Glade of Shifting Light, just inside the Spirit Wall, he was stopped by a gentle hand on his chest. He paused and glanced at the one who had blocked him. It was Salinthia, her deep purple robe torn and grimy. He opened his mouth to speak, but she just shook her head, a sad look in her eyes. With a flick of her wrist, she opened a portal to the second ring, the now familiar sonic boom rocking him slightly with its force.


Is it safe? Ren wondered, giving Salinthia a questioning look.


She simply blinked slowly at him, her hazel eyes abnormally lifeless. Taking that as a yes, he gave her a final nod – how he wished, all of a sudden, to say something to comfort her and all the others – and reached a hand out, allowing himself to be sucked into the portal. The last thing he saw before the rushing darkness overtook his vision was Elly watching him from some distance away, her usually sharp green eyes dull with confusion.


The second ring wavered as Ren slipped silently into it. He stood on the platform at the Rustboro station, eerily alone. Taking a deep breath, he sat down on the very same bench he had occupied earlier with Natasha.


"That was weird," he said aloud, his voice echoing around the empty station. "I thought things were weird enough as it was, but this is just going too far." He had a sinking feeling that he had become involved in something far more serious than he ever could have imagined. Of course, that had been his exact mindset when he had found out about the world of dreams to begin with, but this . . . this was a whole new level.

The worst part, he reflected, was how the spirits had reacted. His brief experience in the world of dreams had painted them as indomitable, indefatigable beings of power and mystery. They had seemed indestructible, invincible, and so very sure of themselves, and yet . . .


Yet there they were. He had been there – it had all seemed so surreal, but he had been there nonetheless. He knew he had witnessed history; from the sound of it, it was the first time the spirits had suffered a defeat at the hands of the Iehkti'na.


It seemed to have been a day of firsts. The first time the spirits had lost, the first time the Iehkti'na had spoken, the first time they had displayed any kind of intelligence, the first time Elly's sparkling green eyes had dulled.


Ren could barely imagine what Elly must have been feeling. That brief glimpse of her as he slipped through the portal had told him so much, and yet so little. He had seen confusion, stunned disbelief and a kind of blank anger. The worst thing, though, was the emotion that he was not even sure he had seen at all. Had there been fear in her eyes? He hoped that he had been mistaken; if even Elly – wild, fiery, fearless Elly – saw reason to be afraid, then he didn't think he would be able to cope with the coming nights.


A patch of darkness caught his eye, flat upon one of the pillars supporting the massive vaulted ceiling. Deciding he should wake up sooner rather than later, Ren stood up and walked towards it, watching it grow as he approached. By the time he reached it, it was roughly the size and shape of a door. As soon as his foot brushed it, he found himself on the other side, stepping out of a pillar, once again in the darkened, concrete jungle he had shared with Afro Glameow earlier in that same dream.


"Seems like such a long time ago," he says, glancing around. Thankfully, Afro Glameow is nowhere to be seen. His leg isn't bleeding either, for which he is extremely grateful.

Before he can even wonder where he is, though, he feels the world slipping away, going hazy and disappearing rapidly into the distance. "What . . ."


"What?" he groaned. His cheeks were burning, and he automatically lifted his hands to rub at them.

"
Wake up, Ren!" Natasha said insistently, pinching his cheeks with finger and thumb.

"Awake, 'm awake," he grumbled, sitting up with a yawn and just about falling off his seat as the train jerked slightly. "Whoa!"

"Jeez! Finally! You slept for just about the whole way!" Natasha pouted, folding her arms as she sat back down.

"Sorry," he said weakly, rubbing his left ear, which was numb from being crushed against the back of the seat. "You weren't bored, were you?"

"Of course I was bored, genius! I finished my book and started on yours," she said, waving both paperbacks under his nose.

"You're a fast reader," he said admiringly, checking his watch. One twenty-three; they were due to arrive in Slateport in a few minutes.

"Not really," she said. "They're not very big books, and I had all that time at the station too."

"
Right," he said distractedly, trying to bring himself back to terms with the real world – no, not the real world, he reminded himself. The world of dreams was just as real – or, at the very least, just as important. And besides, Elly will probably hit me if I say otherwise. If . . . if she . . . It suddenly occurred to Ren that Elly might not even feel up to chewing him out that night. The thought was somehow more shocking than anything else that had crossed his mind since the battle.

Just a few minutes later, the train pulled smoothly into Slateport Station. Natasha spotted her parents through the window and dashed off ahead of Ren, leaving him to filter out with the crowd like a zombie, head down and arms listlessly clutching his bag. He felt a tiny share of the spirits' pain just then, and for a moment he was back in the forest of the third ring, slowly wending his way through the trees again.


But then he saw his uncle and aunt on the platform, happily receiving Natasha's enthusiastic hugs, and he forced himself to look up again, taking a deep breath of that peculiar air you could only find in the railway station of a seaside city – brine, metal and oil. He was home. This was where he belonged.


That knowledge made him feel a little better as he plastered a smile on his face and went to greet Roger and Mary.
 

Misheard Whisper

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3,488
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15
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Chapter Seventeen - Solange Ich Lebe

Chapter Seventeen
Solange Ich Lebe

"You sure you don't want to come back to our place for lunch, Ren?" Aunt Mary asked. "It's not like it's any trouble. We love having you."

"No, thanks," Ren said. "Maybe some other time, but for now . . . I need to go back and see my mom. I left all of a sudden yesterday morning, and, well . . . you know how she is."

"I do indeed," Uncle Roger chuckled. "I grew up with her, after all. Well, if that's the case, I'm afraid it can't be helped. I'm sure she's really looking forward to spending some time with you, Mr. Prodigal Son. We'll have you both round our place some time. I'll see if your aunt Mabel can make it as well. Heaven forbid, we might even get your father in next time he's in town."

Ren smiled, although it felt a little forced, even to him. "Sure, that'd be nice. We haven't all gotten together like that since Christmas when I was, what . . . eight?" And I haven't seen Dad for three years, he added silently.


He took his leave quickly, promising Natasha that yes, she could keep the books. Despite the fact that there was no train to catch at his destination this time, he hurried along the coast road up to his house with all the speed he could muster.

"I'm home!" he called loudly as he pushed the door open.

"Oh? Sweetie, you didn't call ahead!" his mother called out from somewhere within the house.

"Um . . . surprise?" he tried, following the sound of her voice to the study at the back of the house.

She looked up with a smile when he entered. "It's good to have you back, honey," she said. "How long do you think you'll be home this time?"

Ren's own smile faltered slightly. "I have to be at a contest in Mauville on Thursday," he told her, remembering the fact suddenly. "And Steven said somebody would be in touch with me to talk about other things. But at the moment, I'm free until then."

"You'd better not have anything happening on your birthday," she said seriously, shuffling some papers and slotting them into the filing cabinet. "You keep next Sunday clear, okay?"

"I'll do my best, Mom," he said. "What are you working on at the moment, by the way?" he asked, gesturing to the papers strewn around the computer.

"Just an article for the Mauville Mirror," she said dismissively, sweeping it all to one side. "Leader Wattson's making moves to have New Mauville open by the end of the year, and he wants some coverage and publicity for that."

"New Mauville? That's the power plant they're building up on Route 110, isn't it?"

"Yes, but never mind that now," she said. "Have you had lunch, sweetie? It's nearly two o'clock."

Ren's stomach growled a negative. "I . . . don't think I had breakfast, either," he admitted, suddenly realising his neglect. Katrina had taken Natasha to get something while he and Steven were talking, but for his part, Ren had entirely forgotten to eat.

"That's bad for you, you know," she scolded. "Come on, I'll fix you something." She hustled him out of the study and back down the hallway to the kitchen. Ren instinctively looked up at the ceiling, half-expecting to see his own footprints there, but made himself bring his eyes back down to earth straight away. It wasn't the time to be thinking about that.

He tried to help, but his mother shooed him back to the table, claiming he would just get in her way. Knowing better than to be hurt, he sat himself down and watched as she fried up what looked to be leftover mashed potato from a bowl she had whipped out of the fridge. The generous knob of butter she had dropped into the pan sizzled wildly, sending a simple yet reassuring aroma spiralling through the room.

"You always overestimate how much potato you need, don't you?" he said, slightly amused.

"Always," she admitted. "There's always at least a full serving left over, no matter how many people I'm cooking for."

"And you always used to fry it up for me just like this," Ren said quietly, casting his gaze out the window. "Especially on Sundays. I'd spend all morning out goofing around with Tim, Cole and Natasha . . ."

"But you'd always come home at one o'clock sharp," she reminisced.

"That's because Saturday always seemed to be sausages and mash night," Ren chuckled, watching a Pelipper wing its way slowly through the sky, a small flock of Wingull trailing behind it. Right there, in the familiar open-plan kitchen that he had eaten in every day for ten years, he finally felt like he had come home. Very little had changed. The same magnets were still stuck to the fridge, colourful letters and numbers that still spelled out 'Happy 10th Birthday, Ren'. A slight ache pierced his heart to see that.

"It always was," his mother said with a smile, heaping the crispy mash onto a plate and drizzling it generously with tomato sauce, just as she had always done for him before he had left. "There you go, sport."

Ren took the plate gratefully, swearing under his breath as he realised how hot it was. He hurriedly set it down on the table with a clatter and reached for a fork from the drawer behind him, swinging his chair back onto two legs as he did so. His mother scowled but passed no comment.

Ren fell silent as he ate, realising just how hungry he was. His mother poured them each a glass of orange juice and sat opposite him to drink hers. "You always used to do that, too," he noted between mouthfuls.

She shrugged lightly. "Old habits die hard. I sat here with my orange juice every Sunday for the last five years, waiting for you to come home so I could share it with you again." Her voice was airy and unconcerned, but her eyes betrayed her.

Ren put his fork down and reached across the table to take her hand. She flinched a little, but quickly wrapped her fingers around his own. They were small, he noticed. Back when he was a kid, his mom's hands had always seemed so big and warm and strong, enveloping his own little hands entirely and making him feel safe. They were still warm, but they were about the same size as his own now. He could only wonder how long it would be before hers were the hands that disappeared under his.

She glanced up into his eyes. "Ren, you . . ."

He saw with a shock that there were tears forming in the corners of her eyes. He gave her hand a quick squeeze. "Do you remember what we used to do after lunch on Sundays?" he asked, his voice quiet but forceful.

She nodded silently, the motion causing the tears to slip out of her eyes and run down her cheeks. Ren stood up and walked around the table, an action complicated by the fact that she refused to release his hand. "We always walked down to the little park on Seaboard Avenue, remember?" he said, pulling up another chair so he could sit next to her. "You'd sit and watch while I played on the swings or the slide."

"You loved that slide," she said, her voice wobbling slightly.

"I did," he said. "It was so big and red. Is that park still there? It didn't get turned into an apartment building or anything, did it?" A shake of the head was his only answer, so he continued, "I think we should go down there, then."

"Now?"

"Of course. Come on, Mom," he said with a smile, standing up and gently tugging at her hand. "Let's go to the park."

She didn't move for several seconds. When she did, it was to stand up and wrap her arms around Ren. Slightly taken aback, but quietly pleased nonetheless, he returned the embrace, feeling for the first time just how very small and frail she was.

When she finally let him go, her eyes were clear and she was smiling, although Ren sensed it was more than a little forced. "Right," she said. "To the park it is."


The park was a half-hour's walk away on a good day, but Ren was in no hurry. He walked side by side with his mother, just as had always used to. After a few minutes of silence, she slipped her hand into his again, entwining her fingers with his as if seeking support. He smiled indulgently.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked. "You're not too old to hold your mom's hand, are you?"

"Of course not," he said.

They walked in silence along the coast road for another five minutes, feeling the brisk sea breeze rushing and dancing along the cliff. Bird Pokemon chirped and squawked from hidden nests above and below them, and there were a few dozen boats on the harbour below, specks of white against a shimmering blue curtain.

"Your father called last night."

Ren looked at his mother, suddenly a little worried. "What did he want?" he asked, making sure to keep his voice light.

"He told me that he wanted to see us," she said, so quietly that Ren had to strain to hear her. "Well, mostly you, I suppose."

"I haven't seen him since my trip to Unova three years ago," Ren reflected. "Why does he suddenly want to see us now?"

"He . . . got married in spring last year."

"What? Why didn't you tell me? For that matter, why didn't he?"

"He asked me not to. I've got no idea why, but I guess that's something you can ask him."

"Is he coming back here?" Ren asked. "He hasn't made a business trip for a while."

"No, he wants us to go there. To Lacunosa. He has a house out there with his new wife and her daughter."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Ren said, taken aback. "Her daughter? So does that mean I have a . . . step-sister now? I've had a step-sister and a stepmother for nearly a year and I didn't know about it? For that matter, do they still count as step-whatevers if Dad doesn't have custody of me?"

"I don't know, Ren," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but . . . he made it very clear that it was essential you didn't know. I thought he was planning to surprise you or something, but last night he asked me to tell you, so I . . . I just don't know, Ren. He didn't even tell me about it until a couple of months ago."

"He likes his secrets, doesn't he?" Ren pondered, shaking his head. "But still, Unova! Are we going to go? I don't really know if I have time for a holiday right now."

"That's exactly what your father thought," she said, "so he made a suggestion and asked that you run it by the people at the League. The Unova Conference is happening in a couple of weeks, so he thought you could come out for that. It's being held in Opelucid, which isn't far from Lacunosa, and it's apparently not uncommon for Champions to sit in on the Conferences of other regions."

"I guess that could work . . ." Ren said slowly.

"Do you want to go, honey?" she asked, turning to look into his eyes. "I mean, it's up to you. If you don't really want to go, I can just call him back and say you're already booked. I won't make you go if you're not comfortable with it."

"I do want to . . . I mean, I think I do. Can I think about it for a while?"

"Of course you can, sweetie," she said, squeezing his hand. "Let's just get to that park before sunset, huh?"

Outwardly, Ren smiled, but on the inside he couldn't help but feel a little upset. Dad never told me he was even thinking about getting married . . . he called twice a month for the last few years, and he didn't mention it once. What kind of crap is that? I don't know if I can deal with all this as well as the yehktira thing. It's all happening at once. Why is it all coming on so suddenly? It was as if he were suddenly drowning in various responsibilities and expectations. Champion, yehktira and now stepson? Step-brother?

The park was almost exactly the same as he remembered it. The grass was a little longer, the creaky swingset a little rustier, and the bright red paint on the slide a little flakier, but none of it made the slightest difference to Ren. It was as if he was nine years old again. He saw himself scrambling up the ladder and almost tumbling off the slide in his haste to get down it. He saw himself standing up on the swing despite his mother's insistence he sit down, swinging higher and higher until he felt sure he would fall off.

"Been a while, huh?" he said. The park was deserted but for the two of them.

"Five years."

"Hmm." Making up his mind, Ren crossed to the slide and pulled himself up the ladder, feeling the rough, rusty texture of the bars under his fingers. At the top, he slotted himself awkardly into the plastic half-tube, his hips almost too wide to fit. He slid down a lot more slowly than he remembered, coming to a stop at the bottom without shooting off the end.

"Bit different now, hmm?" his mother said, sitting down on one of the ancient, creaky swings that sat adjacent to the slide.

". . . Yeah."

Ren's Pokenav blipped loudly from his pocket, causing him to sigh.

"Answer it, sweetie," his mother said with a little smile.

"But this is-"

"It's probably important. Go on."

With an apologetic nod, Ren pulled the little red device out and pressed the answer key, standing up and walking a short distance away to take the call.

"Hello?" he said, hearing the tiredness in his own voice as he spoke.

"Mr. Goodwin?"

"Yes . . ."

"My name is Gerard Etois. I work for the Pokemon League."

"Oh, are you the one that Steven said would be calling?"

"Yes," said Gerard. "I'm glad he informed you of that, for it makes my job somewhat easier. As Mr. Stone may have mentioned, I will be in charge of coordinating your schedule for the duration of your tenure as Champion. Do you have time to discuss this now?"

"Um . . ." Ren glanced over at his mother, sitting alone on the swings, her wavy brown hair swaying in the breeze as she watched him talking. "Not really . . . Would it be possible for you to just give me a brief overview of what's going on in the next few weeks?"

"That's wonderful," Gerard said, although he didn't sound particularly excited. "So . . . Mr. Stone has suggested you attend the Mauville Pokemon Contest on Thursday, correct?"

"Yes, he has."

"Well, I've just spoken with the organisers, and they'd be delighted to have you as a guest. They've also asked if you'd like to compete. Would you be interested?"

"I've . . . never participated in a Contest before," Ren said, suddenly very worried. "I wouldn't have any idea how."

"Still, I think it would be a good idea if you did," Gerard pressed. "It would emphasise your support of the Contest programme, to be sure."

"I don't think so," Ren said firmly, somewhat taken aback by Gerard's insistence. He relented slightly, though. "Well, not this time, at least. I'll watch the contest on Thursday, and that might allow me to learn something to apply in the future. I'd be lying if I said Contests were something I'd ever thought seriously about participating in, but I suppose it could be interesting."

"That sounds like a splendid compromise," Gerard said, sounding quite pleased with himself. "We'll try to get you participating in Contests within a couple of months. I'll call the Mauville committee later this afternoon to inform them. But before that . . . there's a festival going on in Fortree City on Tuesday which I think you'd enjoy."

"A festival? What would that involve?" Ren asked suspiciously.

"Nothing too taxing, I promise," said Gerard, sounding faintly amused. "You would spend the day participating in the activities, perhaps give a speech or two, and generally be seen to be involved in the culture. The local radio station is interested in interviewing you as well, I hear. But on the whole, it should be fairly relaxing, in fact."

"Sounds good," Ren said. It did, actually. He had liked Fortree City a lot when he had passed through about a year and a half earlier, and he had been keen to return for some time. Speeches and radio interviews would have to be dealt with when they came about. "Anything else on?"

"Well, on Thursday you have the Contest – that will just be a day trip, of course – and then on Sunday-"

"Sunday's out," said Ren abruptly. He shot another quick glance across to the swings and was rewarded with a smile and a thumbs-up. Feeling emboldened, he continued. "It's my fifteenth birthday, and I'm planning on spending it at home. I'd really rather not do anything unless I absolutely have to."

"Well, ah . . . you see, Richard Andrews has indicated that yesterday's episode of Hoenn Buzz was extremely well received, and he would like to have you back for his Sunday slot next week, where he can talk with you in a lot more depth. He'd really love to do it as a follow-up episode."

"I . . . I can't. I liked Richard, but I really can't. Would it be possible to do it the week after?"

"Ah. Now, that poses a bit of a problem," Gerard said slowly. "You see, the following weekend is the Unova League Conference, and we were thinking of sending you as an ambassador for the Hoenn League."

"Oh." Ren's stomach dropped about a foot. On the one hand, it fit perfectly with his father's plan to bring him over to Unova – almost too perfectly, he thought briefly. On the other hand, it gave him one less excuse to get out of something which he was growing less and less sure he wanted to do. There was no real reason for his apprehension, he had to admit – it wasn't as if he didn't get along with his father.

"Mr. Goodwin?"

"Ah, right. Um . . ." Sometimes you have to make choices that determine the future at the drop of a hat. It was ironic, Ren thought wryly, that it was his father's words that came back to him at a time like this. It seemed that they were becoming relevant more and more frequently in recent times, though, and he knew he would have to go with it. "I'll . . . I'll do it," he said.

"You will? Good, good. I was a little worried that you wouldn't be up to it, being as new to this whole business as you are."

"I've travelled before," Ren said. "I've been to Unova a few times, too – I was born there, actually, though I don't remember much of that time. Besides, my father lives there at the moment, so I imagine I'll be meeting up with him at some stage. I think I'll be all right." He really hoped that he would be. It was intimidating enough having to go along to the Unova Conference without even taking his new stepmother and step-sister into consideration.

"I'm glad to hear it," Gerard said. "Having a Champion familiar with the region as our ambassador will be good. But this still leaves us with the problem of what to do about Hoenn Buzz. Of course, we can do it after you return, but it really would be better to get it done sooner rather than later. I'll speak to Richard Andrews about that and get back to you tomorrow, or later tonight if possible."

"All right," said Ren. "Is there anything else on? Before I go to Unova, that is."

"Well . . . the Tuesday before the Unova League, there is a tag battle tournament going on in your hometown of Slateport. Would you like to take part?"

"Tag battles? That sounds like fun. I haven't had much experience battling with a partner, though."

"Well, you might learn something, then," Gerard said genially. "I'll contact the organisers and have them enter you. Well, I think that's all for now – I'll call you back tomorrow afternoon to arrange transport and the like, seeing as you seem to be a little busy right now."

"All right, then. Thank you, Mr. Etois," Ren said, stumbling slightly over the pronunciation of the unfamiliar name. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Mr. Goodwin." There was a click, and the line fell silent.

Ren slowly folded up the Pokenav and slotted it back into his pocket, moving back over to sit on the end of the slide again. "It looks like I'm pretty busy over the next couple of weeks," he said quietly, picking at a loose flake of paint on the edge of the slide.

There was no answer for several seconds, so he tried again. "It also looks like we're going to Unova to see Dad."

"I guess we are," his mother said, her voice equally quiet.

"Are you . . . all right with that?" Ren asked, rising from the slide and crossing to sit beside her on the other swing hanging from the ancient frame. "I mean, I kind of decided that a bit quickly."

"No, that's fine. I guess I was just . . . surprised."

"By what?" Ren asked.

"Well . . . by you, I suppose. You've . . . grown up a lot in the last few years. I haven't seen you very much, and every time you come back you seem different somehow. This time, though, it's like . . . like you've reached a certain point. It's almost like you're an adult now. My little boy disappeared when he went off on his tenth birthday, and I've never seen him since."

Ren didn't know quite what to say. "I . . . it's still me, you know. I think it's pretty understandable that I'd have changed, though. I mean, I don't see it myself, but I guess in five years you'd change a bit." The words sounded hollow even as he said them; he wondered exactly who he was supposed to be reassuring.

Silence fell for almost a minute. Ren let the swing rock back and forth a little, his toes dragging in the bark on the ground beneath. The trees lining the park rustled gently as a salty breeze blew in from the sea. Tucked into a large niche in the cliff – not unlike the one that Ren's house stood in – the park afforded a splendid view of the ocean and the sky above it, but Ren's eyes reached beyond the horizon. In that quiet moment, he looked out and saw the vast expanse of the universe. He didn't know how much of the vision was his imagination and how much he was actually seeing, but the sheer scale of the cosmos took him aback. There were huge, dark things out there, perfect black against imperfect colour, frightening in their size and omnipotence.

Then he blinked, and he saw only the ocean. He looked back around, at the bark and grass beneath his feet, the trees surrounding him on three sides, and finally back at his mother, sitting on the swing next to him with a strange half-smile on her face.

"You all right, sweetie?" she said. "You look a little pale."

"No, I'm fine," he said. "Just a little tired." He couldn't help but wonder if that was a side-effect of his adventures in the world of dreams. It certainly seemed that he had been exceedingly tired today – but then again, he considered, it might just be the fact that he had finally come to the end of his journey. His life over the last five years had been so unbearably busy that it might well have simply caught up to him.

"Maybe you should have an early night tonight, love. Do you have anything on tomorrow?"

"No," Ren said, not without relief. "Nothing, actually. Tuesday I'm in Fortree for a festival, Thursday I'm in Mauville for a Contest, and then the next Tuesday is the tag battle tournament in town."

"Oh, I think I saw that in the paper. I'll come along and watch you. But it seems you have quite a bit of free time before we go to Unova."

"Yeah, that'll be nice," Ren said, nodding. "Say, when are we going to leave for Unova? The Conference is on over the weekend, but . . ."

"We should probably try and get there by the Thursday, actually. That'll give us some time to spend in Lacunosa with your father before everything starts."

Ren didn't say anything for a few seconds. Somehow, it seemed there was nothing he could say. At length, he stood up and took a few steps away from the swing. "Let's go home," he said at last. Let's go home and watch TV and have dinner and go to bed and pretend I'm a normal kid, he added silently, but didn't dare say it out loud.
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
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Chapter Eighteen - Ruhe

This chapter feels short. It's not. I swear to Arceus, it's 4,600+ words, which is longer than most chapters so far. But it just doesn't look it. :/

Chapter Eighteen

Ruhe

As he lay awake in bed that night, it occurred to Ren that the issue of Nekros and the events of his last visit to the world of dreams had barely crossed his mind all afternoon. How is that even possible? he wondered, staring up at the ceiling of his darkened room. Here's me trying to think what might happen when I go in this time, but I've hardly even considered what happened last time.

It had been dancing at the back of his mind for the last few hours, he knew, but it had been difficult to reach for it and bring it to the fore. It wasn't like he couldn't bring it to the front of his mind; it was more like it preferred to stay in the background. It was only now, as he waited for sleep to claim him, that it leapt forth and demanded his attention.

Then again, he reasoned, there was nothing he could really do about it. He briefly considered calling Steven and telling him. Would the ex-Champion be able to help him? He doubted it. He had the strangest feeling that Nekros had not shown its face – or what passed for one – before. The spirits had certainly not seemed to recognise it, and he was sure that Steven would not have neglected to mention something so major had he known about it.

Ren suddenly felt very much alone. He couldn't go to Steven for help. Even if his predecessor had somehow known about Nekros, he doubted there would be anything that Steven could have done to help him. As it was, there would be no help forthcoming. What did he expect Steven to do, really? Somehow charge into the world of dreams and valiantly slay the beast? No, he had to deal with it by himself.

His fingers brushed the Dreamlight, still lying on his chest, an impossibly delicate silver carving that glinted in the low light. What am I supposed to do? The same question chased itself around his head for a good half an hour before his tiredness finally caught up with him.

Afro Glameow is nowhere to be seen. That's reassuring. Ren glances around. He's in the jungle of concrete pillars again. Now that he's not running for his life, though, he realises it's an overpass. An overpass of monolithic, impossible size, to be sure, but there's no doubting what it is. The rumbling noise is the sound of hundreds of cars passing over his head, and the light glaring distantly at him from both sides is just sunlight, doing its level best to penetrate the gloom under the road.

He looks around and promptly spots the portal to the second ring; it has the appearance of a deep square hole set into one of the pillars near him. Looking suspiciously around, Ren wonders if Afro Glameow is lying in wait for him somewhere nearby. When there is still no sign of his feline nemesis, however, he shrugs and reaches for the portal. With a familiar yank, he is sucked into it, his entire body somehow telescoping and packing itself into the small space.

When he regained his sense of balance, Ren found himself once again in the park, looking out over Slateport Bay. The sky was overcast, however, casting unfortunate shadows on the scene. The sun peeked valiantly out from behind a cloud to the west, though, its height telling him that it was about three in the afternoon. Just as it occurred to him that there seemed to be nobody around, a voice spoke from behind him.

"
Yehktira."

He turned to see Salinthia, of all people, sitting on one of the swings. She was wearing casual clothes that would not have looked out of place in any city in Hoenn, which Ren found odd. The puffy, sleeveless jacket, faded grey T-shirt and slim black jeans made her look a lot younger – not that appearances made any difference when it came to age, he reminded himself wryly. "Hey, Salinthia," he said quietly, dropping himself into the other swing, much as he had done that very same afternoon. He was beginning to get used to seeing the day's locations floating around in the second ring, but it was no less unnerving to find himself sitting in exactly the same place as he had been earlier. It was like a weird sense of deja vu. "What's . . . happening in the third ring?"

She sighed deeply, refusing to meet his curious eyes. "Four of our number fell in the battle yesterday. One of those who were crushed under the tree that Nekros uprooted succumbed to his injuries after being brought back to the Glade. Nekros also killed two more of that rearguard, and they died on the spot. So did the poor girl who was overwhelmed by the Iehkti'na horde in the preceding battle."

"
Oh," Ren said. He wanted to make some comment, to offer some small measure of comfort, but there were no words. He was so far out of his depth that he could only barely begin to grasp the magnitude of the situation.

"
Four might seem like very few, especially considering the number of beasts we slew today, but . . ."

"
'No men have fallen in battle since the great wars of the early days'," Ren quoted, remembering something he had read in Maho's workshop.

"
I see you've been doing your homework," Salinthia said, a slight tinge of bitter humour colouring her voice.

"
I did a little bit of reading," Ren admitted. "But, uh . . . what happens now?"

"
Nothing," Salinthia said. "We wait. Maho and the rest of us in the Magical Division are working hard to try and reinforce the Spirit Wall, as well as determining how it failed. The others can only wait. I hope you take no offense, Ren, but we think it would be best if you did not enter the third ring tonight."

"
What? But the Soul Bonds-"

"
Are being automatically re-cast as we speak. They only require you to stay here for another few minutes, after which time you may leave the same way you came."

"
So . . . I don't have to be in the third ring for that to work?"

"
Not necessarily, no. It just happens that it's usually safer there, especially in the Glade. At the moment, we cannot guarantee your safety. As well as that, we are in mourning for those lost. You would be . . . superfluous."

Ren couldn't tell whether her words had been deliberately calculated to sting, but sting they did. Whatever the case, there was no way he could blame her. She probably didn't even want to be babysitting him. "I guess we just sit here until time's up, then? What about the Iehkti'na?"

She shook her head. "There are none. It seems Nekros is true to his word, and has withdrawn completely for now."

"
You don't sound particularly pleased with that," Ren noted.

"
Well, it is good that he has stepped back and allowed us to operate peacefully, but at the same time, it is frightening. It proves the level of control that Nekros has over the other Iehkti'na, and that is something we don't want to have to contend with. The Iehkti'na, when they all mass together, are a far stronger force than us. The only thing that has allowed us to continually defeat them over the last seven hundred years is their lack of leadership and organisation. Now that they appear to have that, there is little chance of survival," she said frankly. Although her pale, soft face remained static, Ren could see flickers of uncertainty trembling in her eyes.

"
What can we do?"

"
Only what we are already doing. You, on the other hand, can do nothing. Simply carry on returning to the world of dreams every night, and we will do the best we can with the rest. When Nekros comes forth again, we shall face him with everything we have. If it turns out that it is not enough, well . . . we shall fall, and you shall have new friends in the world of dreams," she said with a sad smile. "It should not make much difference to you. They have promised they will leave you unscathed, for they need a yehktira as much as we do."

"
Don't screw with me!" Ren said, standing up suddenly and wheeling to face her. "You think I wouldn't care if I had to deal with those . . . monsters instead of you?"

"
In all honesty, Ren, I'm sure they'd treat you much the same."

"
I don't care about that!" Ren said sharply. "Sure, it'd be good to know I have some job security, but I'll take you guys over the Iehkti'na any day! I like you guys! The Iehkti'na are just . . . beasts! How could you even suggest that it wouldn't matter?"

Salinthia raised her hands in a vaguely placatory gesture, but didn't say anything for a while. She stood and walked around the swing set, trailing her hand along the bars. "You . . . are right," she said at length. "I apologise. But please, there is no need to be so incensed."

"
. . . Of course," Ren said, sitting back down and rocking back and forward. "I'm sorry. I was just surprised that you thought I wouldn't care."

"
That was a misjudgement on my part," Salinthia said smoothly. "I appreciate your vote of confidence, and I am sure the other elders will as well. But now, I think . . . I think we could just about call it a night."

"
That's . . . all it takes?" Ren asked.

"
Indeed. Your yehkti is strong, and your mere presence in the second ring is enough to return the Soul Bonds to their full strength. Regrettably, they disintegrate faster each day. Soon they will reach a critical level where we will need you, or whoever the yehktira is at that point, to remain in our world permanently."

"
That . . . how would that happen?"

"
We would simply refuse to let you leave. If none of us open a portal for you, you cannot leave the third ring. Your body – in your world – would never wake up. No amount of external stimulus would be able to rouse you. You would seem to be in a coma, and you would probably spend the rest of your life in hospital." She spoke with a brisk, casual tone that grated on Ren's nerves.

"
Are you nuts?" he demanded. "You can't just sit there and talk so calmly about doing something like that! That's awful!"

"
Do not make assumptions, yehktira!" Salinthia snapped, a hard edge suddenly entering her voice. "If it comes down to it, we will not hesitate to keep you here!"

"
You can't!" he protested. "I mean . . . you wouldn't!"

"
We can and will! Unless a way is found to bring the Soul Bonds back to their full capacity, we will have no choice!"

"
Salinthia, you just can't do that! Who the hell do you think you are? If you think I'm just going to sit there and let you screw with me like that, you're horribly mistaken! I just can't believe you!"

"
Stop it, Ren!" she said, stepping forward so that her face was just inches from his own, her sea-green eyes stormy with anger. Her voice dropped to a loud whisper as the clouds in the sky overwhelmed the sun, darkening and lowering until the atmosphere positively crackled with pressure. "Let me make this very clear, yehktira: you do not tell me what I can and cannot do, and you do not presume for one second that you are more important than the fate of two entire worlds!"

Ren bit his lip, refusing to be cowed. Salinthia was terrifying in a very different way to Elly; while Elly's fury had been small and sharp like a Beedrill sting, Salinthia's was huge and sweeping. A harsh, heavy wind swept through the park, tossing the branches on the trees and buffetting him where he stood. He braced his feet and forced himself to glare back into her eyes as stinging, lashing rain began to hurl itself from the threatening clouds that continued to gather overhead.

He knew she was right, but at the same time he was painfully aware that he couldn't back down now. There was nothing he could say, so he simply made a point of standing as still as he could in the heaving rain and wind, feeling the deep, electric pressure of the storm bearing down upon him as he made himself look into her eyes as they darkened rapidly. Within seconds they were a deep slate grey, the same colour as the thunderclouds overhead.

Abruptly, she narrowed her eyes, a rumble of thunder accompanying the gesture. "Go," she said. Her voice was quiet, yet he heard her perfectly clearly over the maelstrom of whirling winds that threatened to engulf them. "Your time here is done, yehktira."

Fighting to contain his own anger, Ren nodded once, jerkily, and stepped back without breaking eye contact. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw – barely – the small black portal that would lead him back to the first ring. Without taking his eyes off Salinthia's, he reached out for it with his right hand. He felt a slight tug on his arm and he was gone.

He stands in a field, one not unlike the one in which he is used to materialising in the third ring. It is the same one, he realises with a start. The grass is trampled and spattered with mud, twisting itself into agonised knots on the ground. Deep furrows are carved in the earth, furrows that grow deeper and more frequent as he walks towards the forest. Soon, he finds himself at the base of the hill, which is little more than a ghastly, churned mud bath. The mud is tinged with purple, and all around is the bitter stench of vinegar and burnt grass.

There is a small jerk somewhere inside Ren's chest, and the scene dissolves as he is pulled upwards and out of reach. He feels hundreds of accusing eyes on him as he ascends, and he can't be sure if they are his imagination or not.

Ren woke suddenly, feeling unusually grumpy – even for a Monday morning. It took him a few seconds to zero in on the reason, for the events of his dreams sought to elude him even now. Carefully, he sifted through his mind, locking onto the small, elusive memory that sat lodged in the back of his thoughts. He seized upon it gladly, and was rewarded with a sudden flash of bitter realisation.

He groaned inwardly. Oh, hell . . . what did I say? He knew full well what he had said, of course. The question was entirely rhetorical, but he had thought it might make him feel a little better. It didn't.

Sitting up and allowing the blankets to fall away from him, he put his head in his hands for a minute. Damn, damn, damn. He had let his temper get the better of him for the first time in . . . how long? Nearly three years. He shuddered to think of the last time he had blown up in someone's face like that.

Not long before his twelfth birthday, he had challenged Brawly for what must have been the tenth time. Zangoose had been his strongest battler even then, so having him easily knocked flying by Brawly's Fighting-type Pokemon meant that the battle had been far more difficult than any other Gym Leader he had faced until that point. After being handed yet another total defeat by the surfer, Ren had almost reached boiling point. When Brawly had suggested moving on and training elsewhere before returning to challenge him again, Ren had snapped.

Of course, his outburst at that time had been completely unjustified. Brawly had only been doing his job; besides, Ren knew that most of the anger he had let loose at that point had been directed at himself. He had been ashamed of his weakness, his stubbornness and his perceived ineptitude. His rage should have been directed inwards, but he had let it all go and focused it on the man in front of him.

Ren had since returned to Dewford and apologised to Brawly, of course. Brawly had understood and given him a rematch for the Knuckle Badge – which Ren had won – but it didn't stop him feeling a little guilty whenever the incident came to mind.

This time, however . . . this time was a little different. Flopping back onto his bed, Ren rolled over and buried his head in his pillow. Salinthia had taken him by surprise with her cool, detached explanation of what could very likely happen to him. Part of him knew that she was completely right, but he didn't really want to admit it. "How does she get off talking like that?" he grumbled aloud. Somehow the thought that, as yehktira, he might have to make some kind of sacrifice had failed to occur to him.

I was wrong to get mad like that, he admitted to himself. But still, I can't help but feel it was a little justified. Salinthia had sprung it on him awfully suddenly, for sure.

"
Ren!" came his mother's voice, echoing faintly from downstairs. "Are you up yet?"

With a distracted smile, Ren rolled out of bed, still dwelling on what had transpired that night. He was already regretting his words and his attitude, and had every intention to apologise that evening, but it did not stop the topic from floating in the front of his mind.

As a result, Ren spent most of the day in a strange sort of fugue, drifting from activity to activity with an uncertain manner that caused his mother to ask several times if he was still tired.

After breakfast, he spent the morning drifting aimlessly about the house, unsure of what to do. His mother was busy with her article for the Mirror, so he was largely left to his own devices. On a whim, he sat down at the kitchen table and began writing a letter. A forgotten promise had suddenly pushed itself to the forefront of his mind, and he seized upon it gratefully as a means to take his mind off what would surely be an extraordinarily awkward encounter with Salinthia in the world of dreams.

Dear Falkner,

I haven't called for a while, but that's not really why I'm writing. I remember you made me swear I'd write to you when I became Champion of the Hoenn League. Well, at the time, I never thought I'd ever find myself writing that letter, but, well . . . here I am.

You probably saw the news about the League Conference and all that on TV, so I won't go into too much detail about that. Mostly I just wanted to thank you. It's been three years since I trained with you in Violet, but I can't overstate how important that period was for me. I learned so much with you, and it really helped me with getting to where I am now.

So, thank you for that. When I finally challenged you and won the Zephyr Badge, it was the best battle I'd had up till that point, and still one of the best I've ever had. It helped me carry on through the rest of the League.

A thought suddenly striking him, he reached into the backpack that still sat in the corner of the kitchen and withdrew one of the three small, flat cases that sat safely in the deepest pocket. Sitting back down at the table, he unlatched the clasp. Two Johto League badges sat in shaped depressions in the velvet lining, glinting slightly in the sunlight. The Zephyr Badge and Mineral Badge looked somewhat lonely in the case, the six empty slots reminding him of the Gym Leaders he hadn't yet battled. Shaking his head, he closed the case with a sigh and went back to writing.

It feels weird, being the Champion, you know. I mean, it's everything I ever worked towards. I remember telling you all about it so excitedly when I came to the Violet Gym, and you just smiled that funny smile you have. I guess I looked just like every other kid that came through with stars in his eyes, but that's where the weirdest thing is. When I think about it . . . becoming the Champion is a goal that every Trainer sets out with. But I . . . I actually made it, and it's always a little strange, somehow, to think of all the other kids that didn't make it. It makes me wonder why I'm any different, why I succeeded where so many others failed. Why am I so special?

Briefly, Ren remembered what Steven had said – how the Champion was largely decided by an individual's level of yehkti. After all the strangeness of the last couple of days, he had almost entirely forgotten about that. Remembering it was, honestly, not a very nice feeling, he realised suddenly. Did that mean that all his hard work had been an illusion? If I've been predetermined to be Champion since the day I was born, does anything that I do make a difference? Steven had said that it did, that he wouldn't have become Champion without all the hours of pressing his nose to the grindstone, but all the same . . . it bugged him a little. It was like being handed a merit certificate in school, only to be told that the principal had decided to give it to you years ago, regardless of your actual performance.

I guess it doesn't matter right now, he wrote, unwilling to scribble out the words already written. It bears thinking about, but I can do that later. I've got so much to do now – I can't believe it! I kind of thought life might slow down a little once I became Champion, but . . . it didn't. If anything, it got more hectic. Sure, I've got more time at home now, but it sure doesn't feel like it. Even though there's technically less I have to do, I have to go all over the place and do all kinds of things. It makes it feel like there's more to do. At any rate, it's sure nice to be back home – well, sort of.

How's life in Violet? Did that girl come back to challenge you after I left at all? What was her name, again? Laura or something? She had a Bayleef, I think, which probably explained why she was having so much trouble beating you. I haven't heard much news out of Johto at all lately, to be honest. Is everything just being quiet as usual?

Listen to me, sheesh. I sound like I'm suspecting some kind of conspiracy. But never mind that. It feels good to be able to just sit down and write a letter like this. I never had the time – or, to be entirely straight with you, the inclination – before, but it's something I could get used to. It helps me get my thoughts in order. So thanks for that, I guess. I do feel a bit better now – not so darn philosophical, at any rate. I'm just rambling now, though, so I'll sign off for now.

He debated for a minute over how to sign the letter, but eventually settled for the slightly formal Your Friend, Ren Goodwin before folding it into an envelope and taking it outside to slot it into the pickup box for the postie to find the following morning.

As he leaned absently on the gate, Ren's mind – no longer distracted by letter-writing – returned to Salinthia and the world of dreams. While he knew that he should be concerned, he found it difficult somehow. Does that make me a bad person? I almost feel like I don't care what happens. He concluded that it was because there was nothing he could do from his current position. Salinthia had said as much, and he certainly couldn't see any evidence to the contrary.

He was just a third wheel, he realised. He had deluded himself briefly that he would get along with the spirits and . . . what? Be seen as their equal? He was their yehktira, that was all. He was a necessity. Even in terms of necessities, he was a pretty useless one, he reflected bitterly. Steven, surely, had been of more use. From what he had gleaned from Maho and Cecilia, Steven had been working to solve the mysteries of the world of dreams from the outside. I can't even do that.

Then again, he realised briefly, watching a Wingull wheeling on an updraft, there was no reason he couldn't. For that matter, there was no reason why Steven would have stopped his research when he stepped down as yehktira – he hadn't struck Ren as the sort of person to give up on something that important just because it wasn't strictly his job any more.

He would have to talk to Steven again as soon as possible, he decided, the thought making him feel a little better. Arceus . . . I'm just going in circles today, he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose and inhaling deeply.

"
There's nothing happening," he said to the Wingull. "That's the problem. Mum's busy, I've got nothing happening . . . there's nobody to battle, no pressure to get to a rest stop before dark. Nothing's bloody happening!" he grunted, kicking the letterbox stand in a sudden fit of childish petulance.

He glanced involuntarily down at his belt, where force of habit had compelled him to attach his six Poke Balls that morning. He sighed heavily, all the wind dropping out of his sails as he relented. Fine. Training it is.

He hadn't brought most of his Pokemon out for a good few days now, and he felt a little guilty when he realised this. While he didn't go for all the new age stuff that was going around like wildfire these days – Trainer and Pokemon are one spirit, one completes the other, you can't win unless you and your team share a bond forged in hellfire – he knew that his Pokemon were still his friends, and he had neglected that lately.

He dashed back to the still-open front door and hollered down the hallway, "Mom! I'm just going out for a while! Back in a couple of hours!"

"
Honey-" his mother began, her voice emanating distantly from the study at the back of the house, but he didn't hear any more, already having dashed away, out the gate and up the road – running in the opposite direction to the city of Slateport proper. He had a place in mind – yet another place he hadn't been for five years.
 

Misheard Whisper

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Chapter Nineteen - Freiheit

Mid-week chapter because I've been on a writing binge and I kinda hate being ahead and I love you all.

Chapter Nineteen
Freiheit

Slateport was named so for a reason. The top of the cliff on which Ren's house balanced awkwardly had once been a rich source of a high-quality variety of the hard grey stone, and it was this enormous deposit that had necessitated the building of a port nearby to traffic the material through. That had all been a long time ago, of course. The demand for slate had fallen as metal and glass came into fashion, and while there was still a significant amount quarried in the area, all the work in the vicinity of Ren's house had long since ceased, leaving behind nothing but a number of sizable craters, dotted along the clifftop like the marks of a giant's pogo stick.

It was to the nearest of these abandoned quarries that Ren now climbed, taking a little-used, steep path that led him off the road and up a narrow crevice in the cliff. It probably wasn't very safe, but that didn't bother him as he scrambled up over the loose shale towards the top. Loose stones skittered away beneath his feet, making the ascent treacherous, but Ren skipped over them with practiced ease, his body remembering the movements that even his memory had let go.

At the top, he paused to catch his breath, doubling back a little to stand a few metres from the edge of the cliff. He had forgotten quite how long the trail up to Quarry #133 was. Still, he reflected as he turned to look back the way he had come, it was worth it. His view of the ocean, usually spectacular at worst, was beyond awe-inspiring from the top of the cliff. It was barely lunchtime, he supposed; he had forgotten his Pokenav, so he judged by the surprisingly hot sun that hung overhead. Without the sun in his eyes as it so often was, he could see for miles and miles. Slateport was out of sight somewhere to his left, but he could see three or four largish ships slewing their way towards it, accompanied by dozens of smaller ones that left tiny white threads of wake behind them.

A cold wind blew across the top of the cliff, reminding him how exposed he was. Turning away from the ocean he had seen so many times, yet never grew tired of, he hurried towards the gnarled wire fence that stood – or rather leaned, for it had guarded the quarry for countless years – a hundred or so metres away.

As he had imagined, nobody had been by to fix the gaping hole in the fence that allowed him access. Ignoring a rusty yellow warning sign that blared 'Danger! Unsafe area – no entry except for council personnel,' he ducked through the gap, immediately finding himself standing on hard, packed earth rather than grass. It was always a little eerie, that – as if he had stepped out of nature and into a construction of man. Which, he supposed, he had. A handful of derelict huts were strewn about the area, clearly much older than the fence surrounding them. The wind was not quite as strong here as it had been at the edge of the cliff, but it still blew sharply, kicking up a cloud of dust here, rattling a dust-ravaged windowpane there.

Ren shivered a little and pressed on, passing the huts without another thought much like he always had done. Another fence stood in his way, much stronger than the last – even if it was decades older. This one, however, had a wide-open gate. Ren stepped through confidently, suddenly finding himself confronted by the quarry.

Probably fifty metres across at the bottom, and maybe two hundred at ground level, the quarry was a roughly semicircular depression, hacked out of the slate over a long period of time, gradually widening and deepening. Natural erosion had worn much of it smooth over however many years it had been abandoned, leaving rounded edges and slopes everywhere, while he imagined it had once been all sharp corners and harsh lines. There was still a clear pathway, however, which snaked its way in a spiral pattern around the bowl of the quarry, and it was this which he now followed, tracing the invisible footsteps of his younger self.

It took him about ten minutes to reach the bottom. Even though the quarry wasn't all that deep, he had been walking at a leisurely pace, taking in every detail of the rock that slowly rose over his head. At the bottom, he walked to the middle of the roughly circular space, stepping over small chunks of discarded rock and around larger ones. In the middle, he stopped and looked up. There were a handful of fluffy white clouds scudding across the azure sky, but the sun beat down on him powerfully, causing him to hiss involuntarily and close his eyes, cursing his foolishness.

"Well done, you," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes and blinking. Coloured spots danced in the air in front of him wherever he looked. Seeking a distraction, he remembered why he had come in the first place. His hands dropped to his belt, tapping the release switches on all six of his Poke Balls. With a loud series of pops, his Pokemon leapt forth in flashes of red light, all of them clearly enthused to see light of day. "Sorry, guys," Ren murmured guiltily as he watched them.

Manectric barked happily and set off at a blinding run around the area, investigating the unfamiliar surroundings and enjoying the rough terrain. Zangoose stood at Ren's side, doing its best to look surly, but the sunlight warming its white fur was clearly having an effect; Ren noticed – with some amusement – the subtle shifting of its feet and flickering of its eyes that betrayed its interest.

Braviary, his proud plumage perennially glossy, perched atop a large chunk of discarded slate with his beak thrust regally towards the sky. His beady eyes followed Yanmega as it buzzed happily around, zipping backwards and forwards with all the frenetic pent-up energy it could muster – which was a considerable amount, Ren knew, well aware of the Bug-type's enthusiasm for high speeds.

A rumble sounded through the quarry as Camerupt stomped its enormous, boulderlike front leg in a sign of approval, its thickset head bobbing appreciatively as the sun washed over it. As Ren watched, Braviary flapped down from his perch to take up a position atop one of the two volcanic cones that thrust upwards from the huge Pokemon's back. Camerupt was by far the largest Pokemon Ren had raised – a colossus of stone and flesh – so large, in fact, that it seemed like a real mountain with the impressive Flying-type on top of it.

A quiet humming filled the air as Ren turned to look at the only one of his Pokemon that had released itself behind him – Solrock. Its rocky golden spines were glowing slightly as it levitated a good couple of metres off the ground. Eyes closed in serene contentment, it seemed to be surrounded by a faint nimbus of golden light. Ren realised that it was also soaking up the sunlight, only a lot more literally than the rest of his team.

"Well, guys," he said, causing them all to turn and look at him expectantly, "I guess we should get started. Braviary, have you been able to catch Yanmega yet?" While he still refused to blink, Braviary averted his eyes slightly, which gave Ren all the answer he needed. "Right, then," he said, trying to hold back a smile. "Let me see what you guys can do."

Braviary needed no further encouragement. With a loud, keening skrike, he launched himself off Camerupt's back and pelted towards the hovering bug-type, cleaving effortlessly through the air. Ren watched with satisfaction as the two wheeled and spun through the air above him, carefully observing their movements. As ever, Braviary was easily the faster of the two, his enormous, red-and-blue wings more than making up for his bulk. Yanmega's agility, however, was unparalleled, and it easily flew rings around the bigger Pokemon.

"Braviary, slow down a little," Ren called, struck by a sudden thought. Looking rather taken aback, Braviary braked slightly, allowing Yanmega – who had been flying around Braviary's wings – to shoot ahead of it. Clearly, Braviary understood exactly what Ren had meant, for he took advantage of the separation to immediately speed up and make another pass at Yanmega, who was now a clear few metres ahead of it. His harsh beak snapped eagerly, but Yanmega barely managed to buzz out of the way. A frustrated shriek echoed throughout the quarry as Braviary was denied his prey yet again.

"That's good," Ren said. "Keep trying that." The problem, he had noticed, was that Yanmega had been shrewdly using Braviary's own body against it, ducking under and rolling over it to avoid the talons and beak that sought to capture it. The sudden deceleration had momentarily overcome that, allowing Braviary a clear shot. Yanmega had reacted instinctively, but it had been a far nearer miss than usual. The Bug-type would be wise to the trick now, but it would make it only marginally easier to avoid.

As the two wheeled and dived overhead, Ren turned to his other Pokemon. Solrock seemed quite happy to bask in the sunlight for the moment, so Ren decided to let it be. Camerupt snorted eagerly, but Ren eyed their surroundings warily, well aware of how unsafe the quarry was. He had never dislodged any of the loose rocks around the bowl before, but he was unwilling to risk generating an earthquake. "Sorry, buddy," he said with a grimace. "You might have to sit this one out for today. Watch Braviary and Yanmega for a while. Make sure they don't eat each other."

Rumbling in disappointment, Camerupt nevertheless turned its attention upwards as best it could with its stocky neck, leaving Ren to chew his lip as he stared thoughtfully at Zangoose and Manectric. At length, he clapped his hands once. "Right," he said. "Speed training all round. Zangoose, let's see if you can catch Manectric."

Zangoose shot him a look that quite clearly said, Are you mad? While Ren was well aware that the Normal-type would climb into hell if he asked it, he was aware that it probably thought this an exercise in futility. Fiercely competitive though it was, Zangoose had eventually – and grudgingly – come to accept that speed was Manectric's domain. The blue and yellow Pokemon was the embodiment of a lightning bolt, after all.

"What, don't think you can do it?" Ren taunted good-naturedly. Zangoose's eyes narrowed, but it refused to rise to the bait.

Ren sighed. "Look, just give it a shot, all right? Manectric, run around in as big of a circle as you can."

Manectric barked and was gone in a flash of yellow. Ren lost sight of it for a second, but then his eyes latched onto the blur that dashed around the edge of the flat area at the bottom of Quarry #133. He saw Zangoose's eyes following the blur as well, and smiled. "Listen," he said. "Manectric is moving in a predictable pattern at a constant speed. It's fast, but you should still be able to intercept it like that with a little practice."

Zangoose hissed suspiciously, but crouched lower to the ground, preparing to spring. Red eyes narrowed in concentration, its pupils flicking from left to right and then back again as Manectric blasted across its field of vision again and again. After a few seconds, Ren noticed its body rocking slightly. He was confused for a moment, but then he realised that it was simply adjusting its rhythm to that of Manectric. Good. First step, done – without me having to say anything.


With a yowl, Zangoose suddenly bounded forward. Manectric, however, was already well past as Zangoose leaped. Ren blinked as Zangoose's jump pushed it higher than he had expected, gaining it several seconds of airtime. As it came back down, Manectric was already rushing back around towards it. The timing was almost perfect.

Almost. With an almighty crash, Zangoose struck the ground right at the point where the bottom of the quarry met the wall, but Manectric was over two metres away by the time the attack landed, skidding to a halt to stand watching proudly. Zangoose yowled in frustration and struck out at the sloping wall, rubble spraying out from the point of impact.

Ren grinned nonetheless. "That's it!" he said. Seeing Zangoose's confused glance, he amended, "Well, that's not quite it, but you were far closer than I thought you'd be on the first time. I'm impressed! Do you see how it works, though?"

Zangoose inclined its head in grudging agreement as it trudged back over to stand by Ren, who scratched it behind the ear. "Try again," he said. "Make sure you read the rhythm. Manectric, go one more time!" he added, raising his voice slightly. Manectric barked and obediently went tearing off around the edge of the basin again.

Zangoose settled into the rhythm more quickly this time, wavering back and forward, left and right as it fixed its aim on Manectric. Without warning, it charged again, feet pounding the ground and then lifting it, powerful muscles propelling it upwards in an enormous arc. Ren watched with bated breath as the two Pokemon flew towards what surely had to be a collision point. Zangoose was going to hit its target on just the second try. Manectric raced around its circle, heading straight for the point where Zangoose was going to land. When the two Pokemon were barely a metre apart – just as all doubt disappeared from Ren's mind – Manectric stopped, leaving Zangoose to crash uncontrollably into the wall.

Ren frowned. "Manectric," he said sharply. "What was that for? I didn't realise we were playing chicken!" Zangoose also hissed angrily at the Electric-type, clearly incensed at being denied its target.

Manectric yelped in protest, seeming to strain against an invisible wall. Looking more closely, Ren saw a faint pink glow surrounding its body. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he turned to glare at the only unoccupied member of his party. "Solrock," he growled. "What have I told you about playing jokes like that? Let him go."

Solrock bounced gently in midair, its round eyes sparkling with amusement. Sounding a single, musical note that echoed around the area, it released Manectric, who bounded over to bark grumpily at it.

A loud shriek from just behind Ren caused him to duck sharply – and just in time, too. Braviary swooped through where his head had just been, wickedly sharp claws extended in pursuit of Yanmega. Standing up again, Ren shook his head and smiled as the enormous Flying-type continued to pursue its frustratingly elusive target

"Zangoose, Manectric, you keep that up. I can trust you not to hurt each other, I hope." Zangoose shot him a sideways look, but nodded. "Good. And you," he said, glaring at the mischievous Solrock, "can come with me and practice your Fire Spin."

Solrock thrummed reluctantly. "Yes, it helped us beat Steven. Yes, it took out his Metagross. But it still lacks a bit of refinement. Don't give me that look, you know it too. Now, I want you to-"

"Ren Goodwin!"

Ren's eyes snapped upwards. He knew that voice, though he hadn't heard it for years. Could it be? He couldn't be sure. The man standing at the quarry entrance was tall and bulky, dressed all in jeans and a white polo shirt, but that was all he could make out from forty metres below.


The man started down the path at a run, and Ren simply stood, turning slowly on the spot, and watched him draw closer as his Pokemon stopped what they were doing to stand with him. As the black-haired newcomer came further down the side of the quarry, Ren grew more and more certain of his identity. Hell, he's changed, though, he thought.

"Long time no see, Cole," Ren said with a smile as he stepped forward to greet his older cousin. "You're . . . really big now." It was true. Cole was well over six feet tall, and rather broad in the shoulders and torso. He had always been bigger than Ren – he was seven years older, after all – but since Ren had left, he had filled out a great deal.

Cole laughed good-naturedly, his breathing barely affected by running down the twisting path. "You've got a good bit bigger yourself, but you're still a squirt," he chuckled. "I wasn't expecting to find you all the way out here, but look at you! I guess you still remember this place, huh?"

"Of course," Ren said, allowing his cousin to pull him into an affectionate bear hug and ruffle his hair. As always, he felt like a ragdoll in Cole's grip. "I had to come back here."

"I guess you remembered what you once said about it being the perfect place to train Pokemon. I heard your bird making a racket from some way away and had to check it out," Cole said, glancing past Ren at the Pokemon that had arrayed themselves behind him.

"You never did bring yours out up here for some reason," Ren mused, suddenly remembering. "Why was that?"

Cole's smile flickered momentarily. "Don't you remember? It's because we promised to come here to train and battle together someday. This was going to be our 'super-awesome secret intense training ground'."

"Oh . . ." Ren said, suddenly feeling more than a little guilty. "I guess I . . . did forget that, huh?" He found himself unable to meet his cousin's eyes.

"Hmm . . ." Cole looked thoughtful for a moment, but then he snapped his fingers. "I've got it!"

"Huh?"

"You can battle me right here and now! If you do that, I'll forgive you."

"Are you . . . sure?" Ren asked. "I mean, I don't want to sound like an *** or anything, but I am the Champion now."

"That doesn't matter," Cole said dismissively, fishing in his pocket for a couple of Poke Balls. "I always knew you were gonna be better than me anyway. The important thing is that we battle, and we do it now. I've only got two Pokemon on me at the moment, though, so it's gonna have to be a quick one. We can catch up and be all nostalgic together later." He started to release his Pokemon, but caught himself and stopped. "Here, you pick your two before I send 'em out. You don't get any advantages."

Ren raised an eyebrow. Cole was just like his sister Natasha in a way, he realised – quite convinced that he could do what he liked, when he liked, and how he liked. "All right," he said. Braviary looks a bit worn out from chasing Yanmega, and Camerupt will probably bring the whole quarry down on our heads. Zangoose and Manectric have both had an outing lately, so that leaves . . . "Yanmega, Solrock. You guys are up. The rest of you can take a break and watch."

Yanmega buzzed eagerly across to hover at Ren's left shoulder, clearly spoiling for a fight after so long cooped up in its Poke Ball. Solrock moved a little more serenely, but Ren could tell that it was just as excited in its own unfathomable way.

"Good?" Ren asked, cocking an eyebrow as he felt the familiar thrill of battle beginning to rise in his heart. This was different to Roxanne and Vila. Vila had been an amateur, no serious challenge at all, and Roxanne had been a familiar face using familiar strategies. He hadn't seen his cousin for five years, and he had never paid any particular attention to people's battling styles in those younger days. He didn't even know which Pokemon Cole had, though he could make an educated guess about one of them.

"Yeah, that'll do fine," Cole said with a grin that screamed confidence. He had to have a reason for that, Ren deduced. It had to be something to do with the type matchups. "How are we gonna do this?"

"Yanmega," Ren said quietly. "You're first." It was a standard strategy when facing unfamiliar opponents; Yanmega was the most capable of evading attacks, meaning that it was least likely to suffer from a disadvantageous type matchup. Still, if he pulls out a Rock-type . . . "You're the challenger, so you can choose your first Pokemon after you've seen mine," Ren said. "Both Trainers can switch their Pokemon at will, and the battle ends when both Pokemon on one side are judged unable to battle. Sound all right?"

"That works. Don't we need a referee?"

"It's fine," Ren said. "We'll both play nice, won't we?"

"Of course. Let's do this thing, then." Cole turned suddenly and jogged back to the opposite side of the quarry, leaving Ren to do the same as his remaining Pokemon stepped back out of the way. Yanmega shot forwards, taking up an offensive position in the middle of the open space, habitually placing itself near a cluster of half-cut blocks of slate that could provide cover if necessary.

Ren hastily sized up the battlefield, nodding appreciatively. He would have placed Yanmega exactly where it was, given the choice. It always felt good to see his Pokemon learning and growing, and he felt a sudden flush of pride.

The few clumps of slate chunks aside, the roughly circular area was largely clear of obstruction – a perfect battlefield.

"By the way, Ren," Cole called from the other end, "I won't let you hear the end of it if you go easy on me, all right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Ren shouted back. "Now let's go! You can call the first move as soon as you choose your Pokemon!" He saw Cole look down at the Poke Balls in his hands, his head lowered for several seconds while he weighed them against other. At length, he tossed one straight upwards.

At the peak of its arc, the ball burst open and a powerful, avian shriek rattled Ren's teeth in his head. An enormous, black and grey Flying-type wheeled overhead, a sharply hooked crest visible on its head. It was bulkier than Braviary, but moved more slowly and ponderously.

"Nice Staraptor," Ren said, more to himself than his opponent. He saw Cole's hand fly up, and Staraptor dived towards the still-unmoving Yanmega with a speed that belied its rotund form. The battle was on.
 

Misheard Whisper

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Chapter Twenty - Solarstrahl

A wild Page 3 appeared! What will Casual Thread Viewer do?

(Also, guys, this is a milestone chapter. I'm so happy to have come even this far. My longest fic before this, Shattered, was nine chapters long when I dropped it, and this will hopefully go for much longer. *knock on wood* Thanks for letting me drag you along on this confusing tale, and believe me when I say that I love each and every single person who reads this. More emo will follow at Chapter Thirty. :P)

Chapter Twenty
Solarstrahl

"
Go!" The command had barely left Ren's lips when Yanmega sprang into action. The tone of its throaty thrumming changed as it zoomed forward, seeming to head straight towards Staraptor. At the last moment, it spun aside, allowing the wind from its opponent's large wings to push it even further out of the way, throwing it into a controlled spiral that brought it close to a second pile of slate chips that varied in size from mere pebbles to chunks the size of Ren's head.

Ren saw what Yanmega was after, and was more than happy to go along with it. "Ancientpower! Hit it from behind!"

Its enormous, multifaceted red eyes seeming to glow, Yanmega's buzzing grew almost unimaginably loud. A slight rattling became audible, but it was not immediately obvious where it came from. It became abundantly clear just a second later, however, when the ground behind Yanmega erupted in a shower of slate. In midair, the jagged chunks of rock – some further broken down and cracked by being lifted – changed trajectory and flew towards Staraptor like huge, sharp bullets.

Staraptor had been busy trying to compensate for its missed attack when Yanmega launched its counter, and as such it was still facing the opposite direction. As it turned back towards its opponent, it flew straight into a hail of rocks moving at supernatural speeds.

To its credit – and Cole's – it actually avoided most of the Ancientpower attack, ducking and weaving with surprising agility between the oncoming missiles. Several of them did graze it, however, leaving the Flying-type somewhat battered.

Ren glanced at the ledge that his non-battling team members had retreated to. Was Braviary watching? Sure enough, his own Flying Pokemon had its eyes riveted to Cole's Staraptor. Ren grinned. Good. Watch and learn. In the meantime . . . He turned his attention back to the battle. He probably wouldn't be lucky enough to get another Ancientpower in like that. The element of surprise, at least, had vanished, and he knew full well that that was half of his advantage.

He noticed, however, that Staraptor seemed somewhat more affected than he would have thought it would be, given the relatively light attack it had weathered. Why is that? Of course, it's not as well-trained as Yanmega . . . Vila aside, I've battled nothing but high-level Trainers lately.

"
We can press that!" he said aloud. He started to direct Yanmega upwards, but the Pokemon had predicted his order, rapidly ascending straight upwards. By placing itself above the shaken Staraptor, it had an immediate advantage in this battle – both physical and mental.

"
Aerial Ace!" Cole shouted, and Staraptor responded instantly by barrelling upwards towards Yanmega, beak outstretched. Its speed seemed to defy the laws of physics. Even as Ren opened his mouth to order Yanmega out of the way, it was moving, but he knew it would not be fast enough to dodge Staraptor's blistering speed.

Sure enough, Yanmega took a glancing blow to one of its wings, sending it tumbling helplessly towards the ground. Less than a foot away from the unforgiving shale floor of the quarry, it righted itself and buzzed out of the way of a potentially lethal follow-up attack that Staraptor had launched, leaving the larger Pokemon to pull up in disappointment.

Ren thought fast. Cole was doing better than he had predicted, simply through his Pokemon's size and type advantage. It was clearly trained for speed, but its defenses were poor. He would have to finish this quickly if he was to finish it at all. He had lost the height advantage, though, and he was unlikely to regain it. Regardless, a plan formed in his mind, quickly pieced together from past experience.

"
Staraptor! Dive!" Cole thundered, sweeping his arm down in a somewhat melodramatic fashion.

Click. Something in Ren's head fell into place, and he shouted, "Ancientpower, one more time! Ring formation, and hold it!"

Yanmega buzzed agreement, its eyes glowing with exertion once again as it telekinetically ripped huge chunks of slate from the ground around it. They flew into the air just above Yanmega, forming a rough circle in the air. If anything flew into the circle, it would be crushed – and Staraptor was heading straight for it, seemingly unable to adjust its trajectory.

"
Go around that, Staraptor! Get behind it and hit it while it's distracted!" Cole barked.

Ren swore silently as Staraptor peeled off at the last second. He had sprung the trap too soon, and now he was caught in it as Staraptor swept around behind Yanmega, who was still occupied with holding the rocks in the air. Just as he was about to order a full retreat, Ren was struck by a further idea. "Hold the rocks there!" he cried. "Hit it when there's an opening!"

"
Don't give him one, Staraptor!" Cole roared. "Close Combat!" Staraptor shrieked assent and dived at the hovering Yanmega, buffetting it with its powerful wings. Yanmega could not launch its attack without destroying itself as well.

Ren bit his lip as he watched his Pokemon take a beating, still valiantly struggling to hold the rocks in the air to the exclusion of all else. A few of the shards of slate wobbled and dropped, and Ren knew he had to act fast. Suddenly struck by a further stroke of inspiration, Ren brought his hand up to catch Yanmega's attention before slashing it sharply downwards.

Yanmega understood. Its wings stopped buzzing, and it dropped like a stone to the ground below, leaving Staraptor alone and momentarily confused. "Now!" Ren said, and Yanmega sent all of the floating rocks whizzing into Staraptor. There were no glancing grazes this time; every one of the chunks of rock hit its target, smashing into the larger Pokemon. With a cry, Staraptor fell to the ground, a bundle of limp feathers.

Yanmega lifted its head with a touch of exhaustion, and then forced itself up off the ground and into the air once more. Five seconds passed, then ten. Staraptor remained where it had fallen, while Yanmega stayed aloft, hovering proudly at Ren's shoulder.

"
Fantastic job," he murmured at length. "Cole! I think your Staraptor's out for the count!"

Cole nodded, returning the defeated battler to its Poke Ball in a flash of red light. "Tell me, Ren," he said as he pocketed it again. "Why didn't you switch Pokemon? I don't doubt that your Solrock could have made short work of Staraptor. You're not going easy, are you? I warned you about that."

"
Of course not," Ren said. "I wanted Solrock at full strength for whatever comes next. If it's what I think it is, I'm going to need all the help I can get."

Cole laughed. "Smart. And if I know you like you know me, I know you know exactly what I'm sending out next."

Ren frowned. "Uh . . . what?"

"
I know," Cole said with a grin.

"
I'm sorry?"

"
Never mind. Anyway, it's time! Floatzel, you're in this to win it!" With that, he hurled his second Poke Ball, revealing his second Pokemon. The big orange Water-type glanced around the makeshift arena curiously, seeming to recognise it.

Of course he does, Ren berated himself. Buizel was always here with us when I was a kid. "I see you got him to evolve, then?"

"
Of course!" Cole said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I once dreamed of taking on the Pokemon League with this guy!"

"
Really?" Ren said, interested. "When did that dream stop?"

"
Oh, a few days ago. Some cousin of mine beat me to it!" Cole guffawed loudly.

"
That's no reason to stop," Ren protested.

"
I'm kidding," Cole said. "I'm too busy. I'm finishing university this year, and I have to go out and get a job once I'm done. I won't have time to keep up Pokemon training seriously. But hell, I said we'd talk afterwards! You going to bring Solrock out or stay with Yanmega?"

"
Take a break, Yanmega," Ren said quietly, directing Yanmega back towards the rest of his team. Solrock rose, unbidden, from its place and headed towards the centre of the battlefield. Its eyes no longer carried any hint of the mischief that had been evident just minutes before. It was all business now.

Ren's mind went into overdrive as he tried to work out how to overcome the second massive type disadvantage of the battle. Solrock knew one move that could deal with Water-types like Floatzel, but its opponent's speed would likely prevent it from getting one off.

"
Aqua Jet!" Cole said, clearly expecting an easy win. Floatzel drew himself up to his full height and spewed water from his mouth in a spiralling jet that wrapped around his body like a cloth. He charged forwards at a breakneck pace, the water forming a cone at his head that pointed straight at Solrock.

"
Use Fire Spin on yourself to block it!" Ren said quickly, hoping it would do the trick. Solrock hummed and spun like a top, gouts of fire issuing from the tips of its spines and forming into a whirling pillar of intense flame that hid the Pokemon from sight. Ren flinched involuntarily at the heat.

Floatzel was undeterred, however, leaping eagerly forwards, seeming to become one with the water that surrounded him. The combined jet of water and Pokemon scythed through the air and slammed into the fiery maelstrom with an impossibly loud hissing, crackling sound. Ren winced as Floatzel easily punched through the wall of flame.

Solrock, however, was nowhere to be seen. The attack had missed. When the flames dissipated a moment later, Solrock was revealed, hovering proudly a good ten metres off the ground. Knowing as well as Ren did that its flames would wither before Floatzel's water, it had used the cover of the Fire Spin to move out of range of the attack.

"
Let's make it fly!" Ren shouted. "Psychic!" He had to go on the offensive, or he would lose easily. Solrock hummed dangerously, spinning gently in midair as a purple glow – barely visible in the bright sunlight – enveloped both it and Floatzel, lifting the Water-type high off the ground until it was level with Solrock.

"
That just makes things easier!" Cole said triumphantly. "Water Gun!" Seeming slightly deterred by the fact that it was far further from the ground than it was accustomed to, Floatzel nevertheless spouted a powerful jet of water from its mouth that gushed towards Solrock at high speed. Solrock spun and barely evaded the attack.

"
Keep moving!" Ren yelled. "Don't let it pin you down! And start to charge that up while you're at it!" As Solrock started to move, circling the helpless Floatzel, Ren noticed that his Pokemon had already begun soaking up the sunlight. The bases of the spines that protruded from its round body were glowing a bright golden colour. As he watched, the colour began to slowly bleed along the rocky spines.

Floatzel kept turning as best it could, firing blasts of pressurised water at his opponent, but the Psychic attack was clearly taking its toll. Its movements – already restricted by Solrock's telekinetic powers – were growing sluggish. All it needed was one lucky shot, though. Solrock's concentration would be broken, and Floatzel would be free to move again. Ren watched with growing anxiety as the bright gold light spread towards the tips of Solrock's spines.

A jet of water clipped Solrock, sending it spinning. Floatzel fell freely for a second before Solrock regained control, meaning that the bulky Water-type now hovered just a metre or so off the ground. Clearly frustrated, it kept firing water at Solrock.

Ren realised that he had been holding his breath. Just as he let it out in one huge exhalation, another Water Gun hit Solrock, driving it back a little and loosening its control just enough for Floatzel to hit the ground. "Now!" Ren screamed, not even looking to see whether Solrock was done.

Thankfully, it seemed that it was. There was a distant rumble that seemed to shake his entire being, and then the entire quarry was painted bright, glaring white as a shaft of pure sunlight blasted out of the sky and smashed into Floatzel. Ren closed his eyes a split second too late and found the afterimage of the burning pillar of light seared into his retinas. A yell from the other end of the battlefield told him that Cole had suffered the same experience.

A second after the light had shot down from above, it was followed by the arrival of a world-shaking, earth-shattering crash that seemed to rock the entire cliff that the quarry stood on. Ren pressed his hands over his ears, but he was unable to block out the noise.

After several seconds, the light beating against Ren's eyelids dimmed, and he cracked his eyes open cautiously. It was still difficult to see; his pupils had been hugely confused by the sudden flash of light. As his vision cleared, however, he saw Floatzel lying prone on the ground.

His breath coming in great gasps, Ren sat down heavily. "That was far closer than it needed to be," he said to himself.

"
It's my loss," Cole said, striding forward and returning Floatzel to its Poke Ball. He came over to sit down next to Ren. His breathing was also heavier than normal, Ren noticed – even though running four hundred metres down the side of the quarry had barely fazed him. "You all right, cuz? You look a little out of it."

"
I guess I am," Ren said. "That was the first proper battle I've had since I beat Steven, I guess."

"
What, you out of practice already? Didn't you beat him on, like, Wednesday or something?" Cole asked, arching an eyebrow.

"
Yeah, but . . . I don't know. That was a good battle either way, though. I thought you had me with that Close Combat for a minute there."

"
I thought I had you, too," Cole said with a laugh, "but look where that got me. Two-nil, huh? Jeez, I haven't been whitewashed like that for ages. Then again, I wouldn't expect any less from the Champion! Oh, yeah. I forgot to congratulate you properly for that. Well done, little man. You've done us all proud."

"
Thanks, Cole. I just hope I can keep it up."

"
What's that supposed to mean?" Cole asked, frowning.

"
Oh, um . . . nothing," Ren said. "Just a bit overwhelmed by everything that's going on." He wished, for a brief, mad moment, that he could tell Cole everything. It seemed that everything would become so much easier if he just told his cousin about the world of dreams and the hefty responsibilities that had become his when he had beaten Steven. He knew he couldn't, though. As much as he trusted Cole – as much as he had never kept anything secret from him before – he knew he had to keep silent. Steven had made that much clear, and Ren had to agree with the logic.

"
Well, you'll get used to it," Cole said, ruffling Ren's hair reassuringly. "Ha, listen to me. I'm talking like I've been through it or something. Anyway, we should get going about now. I was on my way to Aunt Thalia's when I bumped into you."

"
It always sounds weird when you call her that," Ren grumbled.

"
Just because you're used to calling her 'Mom'," Cole said. "So you'll come with me, right? We can talk on the way."

Ren stood with a sigh, his eyes fixed on the gate at the top of the quarry. "Guess I can. That battle was training enough for everybody, I think. To tell the truth, I just came out here to take my mind off a few things."

After a few seconds, Ren realised that Cole had neither spoken nor moved, which was certainly uncharacteristic. He glanced back down at Cole, who was still sitting on the ground next to him, and was surprised to find his cousin watching him with a thoughtful, distant look in his eyes. Ren shot him a questioning look.

"
I was just thinking . . . you've grown up a lot," Cole said slowly.

"
I'm not that tall," Ren said with a frown, even though he knew that it wasn't what Cole had meant.

"
No, not like that. Back then, you were always such a kid, you know? You were the little one that tagged along behind Tim and I all the time, always excited about something. It was like you were the little brother I didn't have. Now, I sit here and talk to you, and it's like I'm talking to someone my age, or even someone older. How did you get so . . ."

"
Old?" Ren suggested with a quirk of the lip. "I guess . . . it happens. Some things never change, but some things do. I've been everywhere, Cole. I've seen so many things, and achieved so much. In five years, I've done more living than most people do in their whole lives. Wouldn't that sober anybody up pretty quickly?"

"
Yeah," Cole said quietly, standing up so that he once again towered over Ren, brushing grit off the seat of his pants as he did so. "C'mon, let's go back to your place. We've got some catching up to do."

"
Right," Ren said, quickly returning his Pokemon to the capsules on his belt as he followed Cole up the path to the top of the quarry. Neither of them said anything until they reached the top, when they turned to look back down at the quarry, a massive bowl scooped out of the earth over decades of labour.

"
I remember the first time we came out here together," Cole said. "You were just six, and I was thirteen. You were so scared then. You thought you'd fall in and die, and it took me half an hour to convince you just to go near it."

"
Hey, Cole," Ren said, letting his eyes roam freely across the middle distance.

"
Mm?"

"
Did it ever bother you?"

"
Did what bother me?"

"
Having me tailing along. I mean, Tim was only a couple of years younger than you, but I was . . . so far away. I must have been such a nuisance."

"
Nah, not at all. You were a cool kid. Bit nuts, but who isn't at that age? Why? Did it bother you? I never saw you with any kids your own age."

"
I was a bit of a loner, yeah," Ren admitted as they turned and headed back towards the fence that ringed the old quarry. "It was mostly my fault, though. Whenever the other kids tried to get me involved with their hijinks, I always turned them down to hang out with you or stay at home with Mom. I always kind of felt that I'd be betraying you guys if I went to play with them." He laughed, but it sounded a little hollow even to him. "Mom always told me that family was more important than anything else, and I guess I took that to heart. Kinda funny, considering what happened with Dad, but . . . I guess it makes sense. Not having him around just made me value you guys all the more. At least, that's what I think when I look back on it now."

"
You are old," Cole said drily as he squeezed through the gap in the fence behind Ren. He made a beeline for the crack that led back down to the road.

Ren forced a smile. Today was a weird day, he decided. "I think that's me talked out for a little bit," he said. "Your turn. It's no mystery what I've been up to, but what have you been doing these last few years?"

"
Well, ah . . . like I said, I'm finishing university this year – in Lilycove. The first semester finished a week ago, so I took the opportunity to come back home for a little bit before I go back for the last drag."

"
What are you studying, then?" Ren asked, suddenly extraordinarily aware that he knew next to nothing about the person he considered his closest friend.

"
Commerce!" Cole said proudly. "International business and management, to be exact. I'm going to get right into it once I'm done with uni, so I've started looking for jobs with some of the big firms in town. Slateport's a huge hub for international trade – you know that, of course – so there's a huge number of possibilities there. I could be really successful without ever having to leave home!"

"
That'd be nice," Ren said, sliding carefully over a section of loose scree that he normally avoided. He was quite pleased to find that he could do it comfortably. "I was just about ready to come back home after I became Champion, but it seems I have to move around just as much as before. At least I get to be back in town some of the time, though."

"
It's good to have you here, Ren," Cole said, his grin suddenly replaced by an unexpectedly frank expression. "I worry about the family, you know. Without a man around . . . Well, my dad's there, but he's . . . a little ineffectual sometimes. I feel a bit bad saying that, but it's the truth. With your dad in Unova, Uncle Murphy dead, me in Lilycove and Tim at boarding school in Kanto . . ."

"
I get it," Ren said, sparing Cole the trouble of stumbling over his words any further. "I can't be around here all the time, but I will be as much as I can."

"
Just . . . just look after them, okay? All of them. Your mom, my parents, Natasha – and especially Aunt Mabel. I worry about her all alone up there. I dropped by on Friday and she was in a bit of a state. She's not been the same since Uncle Murphy died ten years ago."

Ren nodded silently, coming to a brief halt at the bottom of the trail and looking out across the ocean again. It was just as beautiful as ever, but something in its unreadable depths suggested many, many strange things to come.

I need to stop doing that, he scolded himself. I'm seeing messages that aren't there in perfectly ordinary things. First the park, and now this.

"
Ren, you all right?" Cole asked.

"
Y-yeah. I'm fine. Look, Cole, I . . . I'll look after them. I don't know how well I can do that, or even what I'll need to do, so I won't make any promises – except one. I'll promise you that I will do everything I can to make sure they're all right. I can't tell how far that promise will go until it's tested, but . . . it's the best I can offer."

"
That's all I wanted to hear, Ren," Cole said as he started off down the road again. "I'll hold you to that."

"
No need," Ren said with a slight smile. "I'll hold myself to it. That's not the sort of promise I'm going to break for anything."

"
You really do sound far older than you look," he said.

"
Will you stop saying that?"
 
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y stri

Got no theme right now.
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All I can say about this is . . . wow.

This story is so original and wonderful! Are you planning to write a novel?

I'm slightly embarrassed to say that I almost cried during the scene where Ren visited the park.

The second ring's probably going to contain the quarry, right? (watch it not be the quarry just because I said that)

And you know what I think would be hilarious but outright impossible? Elly vs. Roxanne: The Battle of the Possible Love Interests for Ren. Not necessarily over him, but I would have a good laugh if this happened.
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
3,488
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15
Years
All I can say about this is . . . wow.

This story is so original and wonderful! Are you planning to write a novel?
Wow, thanks! Yes, I am. I've written a couple of draft novels already, actually, but I write more fanfiction than original fiction these days.

I'm slightly embarrassed to say that I almost cried during the scene where Ren visited the park.

The second ring's probably going to contain the quarry, right? (watch it not be the quarry just because I said that)
Well, that would be a fair enough assessment. It's generally the places that appear during his day that appear in his dreams, so . . . heheh. And I'm glad that the scene in the park was as emotionally strong as I'd hoped it would be.

And you know what I think would be hilarious but outright impossible? Elly vs. Roxanne: The Battle of the Possible Love Interests for Ren. Not necessarily over him, but I would have a good laugh if this happened.
Oh yes, that would be brilliant. Unfortunately, the likelihood of that happening is almost zero, considering that a) Elly going to the human world would be suicide and b) Ren's not allowed to tell anybody about the world of dreams, let alone take anybody in with him. Still, anything is possible. It could happen some day. ;)

Thanks for reading! :D
 

Misheard Whisper

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3,488
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15
Years
Chapter Twenty-One - Mehr Träume

I live, ich lebe, yo vivo. Welcome back to Champion Game, guys. Sorry it's been so long. Exams have been truly harrowing lately, and I've really just not had the time to sit down and write. So I apologise sincerely. I can't promise when the next chapter will be, but regular updates will resume no later than December 1st, probably earlier.

Chapter Twenty-One
Mehr Träume

Ren left his mother and Cole chatting at the kitchen table, excusing himself to his room. No sooner had he opened the door than his Pokenav – which had been sitting on the floor by the bed – rang insistently. He picked it up guiltily. "Hello?"

"Mr. Goodwin," said a disapproving voice on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Etois," said Ren tiredly. "Sorry, I went out and left my Pokenav behind. Have you been calling long?"

"Only about half an hour," Gerard said drily. "But no matter. I am simply calling to inform you that your transport to Fortree has been arranged for tomorrow."

"Oh, good," Ren said. "So, what's happening?"

"Well . . ." Ren heard a note of disapproval in Gerard's voice.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked.

"Not as such, but . . . well, all I can tell you is that transport has been arranged."

"Wait, seriously? Nothing else?"

"It has been requested that you be waiting outside your house at eight-thirty tomorrow morning."

"Requested? By whom?" Ren frowned.

"Again, I have been asked not to say."

"So you spent half an hour calling me just to tell me that you're not actually allowed to tell me anything?"

"Essentially. I feel it is something of an exercise in futility, but you are nevertheless informed now. Oh, and besides . . . I have spoken to the organisers of the Mauville Contest, and they are more than happy for you to come along and simply watch the proceedings on Thursday. They would like you to present the ribbon to the winner as well, but that will hardly be too strenuous, I imagine."

"Of course. Yeah, I can do that."

"Very well, then. Now, are you able to find transport to Mauville on Thursday?"

"Mauville? Oh, yeah, that's fine. I'll just take a train, or maybe I'll go by Cycling Road. Either way, I'll get there myself just fine."

"Excellent. So remember, eight-thirty tomorrow. Have fun."

"Sure," Ren said, suddenly not entirely certain that he would. As the line went silent, he let his Pokenav drop to the bed beside him.

You can't afford to be all uncertain now, he scolded himself. For Arceus' sake, you've been through too much already to let this kind of thing get to you. Nodding firmly, Ren took a deep breath, letting the warm, slightly dusty air fill his lungs. Feeling slightly better, he headed downstairs again.

"Are you all sorted for tomorrow, then?" his mother asked as Ren reentered the kitchen and pulled up a chair.

"Yeah. Well, I think so. He wasn't very clear. It seems somebody wants to surprise me. I'm just meant to be waiting outside at eight-thirty in the morning. Maybe they're sending a car, but I have no idea."

"How enigmatic," she mused, an amused twinkle in her eye. "I guess you'll just have to wait."

"Whoa, hang on!" Cole interjected. "What's going on here?"

"I have to go to Fortree tomorrow," Ren said. "They're having a festival of some sort . . . come to think of it, I actually don't know what that's going to involve. But I'm turning up as the Champion."

"Oh. Promotional stuff, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ren said.

"You all right with that?" Cole asked, peering intently into Ren's eyes.

"Why wouldn't I be all right?" Ren countered, feigning puzzlement.

"Hmm," Cole said, seeming somewhat unconvinced. "Never mind, then. It was just a thought. Still, that's pretty cool. I guess you have a whole lot of these things going on, huh?"

"I'm . . . busy," Ren admitted. "This is how life is going to be for a while, it seems. I don't expect it'll get any less hectic anytime soon, but I guess it'll get easier as I get used to it."

Cole's eyes narrowed slightly as he observed Ren, but he evidently decided to let whatever had just crossed his mind pass without comment, for he turned to his aunt and engaged her in conversation about Aunt Mabel.

Ren looked down at the dark, varnished whorls of the table, letting the voices of his mother and cousin fade into background noise. Cole had seen it in his eyes, he realised. While he had made light of his heavy duties as Champion, he should have known that he couldn't lie to his older cousin. Even if his lips spoke falsehoods, his eyes would always betray the truth. He had seen that understanding in Cole's own eyes.

But what should I do? There was no way he could admit to how difficult it was. It wasn't like the world of dreams, which had to remain secret for an entirely different reason. In fact, there was no logical reason why Ren shouldn't admit to Cole how much trouble he was having, but still something stopped him. He supposed it was pride. He had spent so many years proving trying to prove to Cole – and to himself – that despite his age, he was able to hold his own with the older boys. Admitting how hard he was having it right now would somehow ruin that, he felt. I'm fourteen now, he told himself, clenching a fist under the table where nobody could see it. I've got to stop relying on other people here.

Then what am I doing in the world of dreams? he wondered suddenly. I'm just leaning on Elly and the others there. I can't even look after myself – they have to do that for me. But what can I do? There's nothing for it – nothing except making up for it by being as independent as I can here.

"Ren?" Cole prompted, leaning across the table to poke him in the forehead. "You awake there, man?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just a bit tired, still. What is it?"

"I know you're busy tomorrow, but do you think you could drop by and see Aunt Mabel on Wednesday? I have to go back to Lilycove tomorrow, so I can't go with you. But I really think she'd appreciate it, you know? She's not herself these days, but she was really happy to hear how well you did at the League. I'd say she'd enjoy it if you went to talk to her."

"I'll do that," Ren said. "I think . . . yeah, I think she'd like that."

"Good," Cole said, standing up suddenly and heading for the door. "Now, I have to go. Mom made me promise to be home by four. Things to do and all that, you know?"

"I know how that is," Ren said wryly. "See you . . . next time I see you, then."

"Yeah, I probably won't see you in the morning before we both leave. Good luck with all the stuff you've got going on, Ren. And bye, Aunt Thalia. I'll stay in touch."

"Goodbye, dear. Say hello to Roger and Mary for me, would you? Tell them I plan to drop by tomorrow if I can."

"Sure thing," Cole said, and with that, he was gone.

Ren took a deep breath and let it all out at once, standing up from the table. "I'll be in my room," he said.

"All right, dear. Dinner will be about six, I imagine. What do you plan on getting up to till then?"

"Um . . . I don't really know," he said. "I'll find something. Read a book, maybe."

"You could just stay here and talk to me, you know. I get awfully bored with just the radio for company," she said lightly.

Halfway to the stairs, Ren paused. He heard the slight challenge in her voice, and he shook his head helplessly as he returned to his seat in the table.

"So," he said. "What shall we talk about?"

The best part of four hours later, Ren excused himself to go to bed early. It wasn't exactly as if he was keen to return to the world of dreams, but he felt a certain obligation. He had to apologise to Salinthia, for starters. Uneasily, he wondered if the spirits would ever see him the same way again. He remembered Steven's warning about not getting on their bad side. They are certainly more than capable of making your life hell if you offend them. He shivered as he sat down on his bed, suddenly unwilling to go to sleep.

On a whim, he reached across to his bedhead and pressed the release switch on Zangoose's Poke Ball. With a pop that seemed louder than usual in the otherwise tranquil evening, his partner Pokemon materialised next to the bed.

Zangoose leapt to the alert, claws raised defensively, and scanned his surroundings quickly. It took him a couple of seconds to work out where he was, at which point he glanced questioningly at Ren as if to ask, 'Why did you bring me out if I don't get to cut anything?'

Ren smiled. "Easy, buddy. Just needed a little . . . company." He slung his legs up on the bed and fell back into the pillow, sighing deeply. After about twenty seconds of silence, he rolled to the side to find Zangoose observing him balefully, red eyes just barely elevated above the level of the bed. "You really don't know what to do, do you?" he mused.

Zangoose cocked his head slightly to one side. Well, duh, Ren imagined him saying. Zangoose had never been one for conversation, even as far as Pokemon were concerned. The Normal-type was the main fighter on his team, not a healer or a source of emotional support. Nevertheless, he had been with Ren the longest out of any of his team, and Ren felt a certain sense of calm wash over him with him in the room.

"You want to sleep out of the ball tonight?" he asked. Receiving nothing but a wary, slightly confused glare, he clarified: "I'll feel better if you're there. Wake me up if something . . ."

He stopped and swallowed. What was he worried about? Was Salinthia going to make good on her threat? Would it even be necessary? If what she had said was true, and the Soul Bonds really were deteriorating at a faster rate than before, he would have no choice but to stay in the world of dreams. That prospect didn't endear itself to him.

"Just wake me up if anything goes wrong, okay?" he amended.

Still looking at him askance, Zangoose moved back from the side of the bed and curled up under the window, bushy tail wrapped defensively around his body. His red eyes remained open, however, fixed unblinkingly on Ren.

Anybody else would find that really creepy, Ren thought with some amusement. He looked back into Zangoose's eyes as he felt sleep begin to tug on his eyelids, and drew some comfort from the almost tangible connection between them. As he finally closed his eyes, he realised that he had never truly appreciated how lucky he was to have partners like he did.

"What are you, really?" Ren asks Afro Glameow. He is sitting cross-legged on a giant red mushroom flecked with white spots, sipping sweet, steaming tea from a delicate china teacup with coloured flowers on the side. It's surprisingly tasty, though he isn't normally fond of tea. He replaces the cup on its saucer with a delicate clink, noting as he does the thin white gloves that encase his hands.

Afro Glameow is curled up on a slightly smaller mushroom just a couple of feet for him, but for once it looks anything but threatening. Much like Ren, it is apparently enjoying a hot tea of some kind, lapping it happily out of a saucer. It appears totally at peace with the world.

"Oi!" Ren tries again, snapping his fingers to get the Pokemon's attention – an effort not exactly aided by the gloves on his hands. "Why do you hang out here, anyway? What are you?"

Afro Glameow stretches luxuriously, taking a final lick from its saucer as it does so. Fixing its eyes on a point somewhere behind Ren, it leaps lithely across onto Ren's mushroom. When Ren doesn't react except to take another sip of his tea, it nudges his elbow insistently with its springy afro, mewling gently.

"Oh, what is it?" Ren snaps, slightly peeved. He turns around, though, and is faced with a familiar-looking black portal. "Oh, right. It seems I have to go now." On a strange whim, he reaches around the afro and scratches the unusually benign Pokemon behind the ear. It lets out a purr, but nudges him even more insistently toward the portal.

"You really want me to go, don't you?" Ren says thoughtfully. "Why's that?" No answer. He shrugs. "Fine. I'll see you on the way back through, I guess?" Without waiting for a reply, he puts a hand out behind him, allowing the portal to suck him through into the second ring.

"Hello, you," said a familiar voice. It didn't sound too friendly, but Ren opened his eyes and did his best to smile anyway. He was in Steven's secret conference room in the Slateport Devon Corp. building, sitting in one of the chairs. Staring at him from across the table was Elly, looking to be in remarkably better health than the last time he'd seen her. Her lower left arm bore a long, thin scar from elbow to wrist, but it looked as if it had been there for years, appearing as little more than a slightly discoloured line. He still shuddered to look at it, though, remembering the violet blood that had been running freely from it the last time he saw her.

"Um, hi," he said. "Are you . . . I mean, is everything . . ."

"Everything's fine," Elly said. "Well, it's as fine as it's going to get. Now come on, the council wants to talk to you."

"Wait!" he said as she stood up, kicking her chair backwards.

"What?" she asked icily.

Ren winced, but carried on. "I just thought of something. About the Iehkti'na . . . if they're that intelligent . . . or rather, if they realise they need me alive in order to survive themselves, why did they try to kill me that first night?"

"I . . . I don't know," Elly said, looking as though it pained her greatly to admit it. "I can only guess. But you're right – that doesn't really match up with what Nekros was saying."

"It wouldn't really benefit them if I died, would it?" Ren asked.

"Of course not, moron," Elly snapped. "You die, the Soul Bonds die with you – and so does everything else. As much as I hate to single you out as special or anything, you're kind of the most important person in the world – in two worlds – right now. But don't you dare let that go to your head, you hear me?"

"All right!" Ren said, raising his hands in defeat. He grinned, despite the seriousness of the conversation. "I'll try not to mention it again. But seriously, why the sudden change with the Iehkti'na? It's going to bother me all night now."

"My best guess is that in the second ring, they're just as dumb as they normally are. That Nekros seemed to have them under its control somehow, but he – it wasn't in the second ring with us that night. Those smaller Iehkti'na probably couldn't follow as complex an order as 'Don't kill the yehktira' when the big boss wasn't around. But hell, what do I know? They're obviously some kind of intelligent now. Maybe they have a government! Maybe they had an election between then and now, and the old leader thought it would be a good idea to knock you off!" Her voice rose steadily in pitch until she was almost shrieking, and Ren winced.

"You seem kind of on edge," he commented, hoping it wouldn't start off another tirade. Of course, he realised what was happening. He had seen Elly's eyes after the battle. She had to be feeling completely useless now. She had spent seven hundred years thinking she was invincible, only to have the uncomfortable truth handed to her all at once by her greatest enemies. She would be lost, afraid and likely feeling extraordinarily redundant. He wasn't going to mention any of this, though. Somehow, he got the impression that it would be better to let her think he still only saw the facade she had put up. Rather than hiding her anger, she was using it as a shield to cover up everything else she was feeling.

"On edge? Who, me? Look, are you out for a beating?" she growled. "Look, never mind. Whatever. The council – myself included – wants to talk to you, and you don't keep the council waiting."

"Not if you have gossip-mill Cecilia around, anyway," Ren muttered, remembering her snide comments the last time he and Elly had arrived late. With something close to shock, he realised that he was worried about Cecilia. Of course, he was worried about everybody in the world of dreams, but it was different somehow. Cecilia didn't seem as strong as the others. While Elly and Salinthia gave the impression that they were completely able to take care of themselves, thank you very much, Ren couldn't help but worry about the waif-like girl with her green-gold hair.

"Are you coming or not?" Elly demanded.

With a start, Ren realised that she had somehow opened a portal to the third ring without him noticing, which was surprising given the remarkable amount of noise that usually accompanied the act. He considered passing comment, but thought better of it and stepped through without a further word.

"Come on, mortal," she said briskly at the other end, practically dragging him away from the portal.

"Mortal?" Ren said quizically. "Since when did you call me that?"

"Since I started being in a bad mood," she snapped, heading for the council building with Ren at her heels.

"Nope, I'm pretty sure you've been in a bad mood ever since I first met you," he said, somehow finding it in him to poke fun at her some more.

Everywhere around him, he saw pain. It lay on the Glade of Shifting Light like a blanket, stifling everything light or colourful. The sky was an uncertain grey, the unlikely marble buildings were dull, and the spirits went about their business with quiet footsteps and downcast eyes. It made him want to bite his tongue and follow Elly silently and reverently; these people were in mourning for the first time in centuries. Even so, he couldn't help but feel that a little levity was necessary.

"Are you ever, you know, happy?" he asked, speeding up a little to walk alongside her.

"It has been known to happen," she said, eyes remaining fixed straight ahead.

"Really? When? What makes you happy?"

"It usually involves no annoying yehktira asking stupid questions, no dead friends, and no imminent threat of Ragnarok."

"Ragnarok?" Ren asked, frowning. "Isn't that-"

"Yes. It's a myth belonging to an ancient people in your world. The final battle at the end of time, where the gods and the giants would fight. This giant serpent would kill this god, that other god would kill some particular giant wolf, and another god would turn traitor and slaughter all his brothers before dying himself or something. One of our yehktira several decades back told me about it."

"So why mention it now?"

"We have a similar belief, actually – that there will be a final battle to end all things. Unlike the legend from your world, though, our prophecy told us nothing specific. We know we will fight, but we don't know who. We don't know when, where or how. We don't even know what will happen afterwards, if there even is an afterwards. It's terribly nonspecific."

Something in Elly's voice seemed to change as she spoke. It was almost like she was reciting something she'd said a thousand times before – yet there was no sense of boredom or frustration. Just an inexplicable feeling of . . . awe? "And this . . . you call it Ragnarok too?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes, well. We didn't have a name for it, so we borrowed yours. Why are you so interested, anyway?"

"Oh, well . . . it just seems to me that maybe . . . just maybe, Ragnarok could be coming soon."

"You think I don't know that?" she hissed, rounding on him suddenly. "You think that every single person you see around you doesn't know that? Why do you think everybody is so quiet, Ren? It's not just because we're in mourning. No, we've lost friends and family before. Not for centuries, sure, but our memories are long. We can all feel it coming, Ren! We know the end is coming! We-"

"Stop," grated a voice from behind them.

Ren jumped, turning to see who it was, although he was almost certain that he knew. Sure enough, he saw Maho limping towards them, half-dragging one leg and hunching his shoulder beneath his massive coat.

"Spellcaster General," Elly said respectfully. "Was there something you wanted?"

Maho nodded his head awkwardly. He crooked a finger awkwardly at Ren. "Lab," he croaked.

"Oh, right!" Ren said guiltily. "Sorry about that. Cecilia said-" He cut off when Maho raised a hand sharply.

"Later. Come," he said with apparent difficulty, before turning and limping off again the way he had come.

Ren watched him go with a slight sense of apprehension. "You think he's mad?" he asked nervously. The Spellcaster General was a rather menacing figure, and Ren reasoned that Maho would probably have good reason to be upset about Ren's trespass into his laboratory.

"I wouldn't think so," Elly said. "He probably just wants to talk – or, well, communicate in some way – with you. Maho likes yehktira, mostly because he's our lead researcher. He's likely to grill you a bit with regards to the Soul Bonds."

"But I don't know anything about them other than what you've told me!" Ren protested.

"You don't think you do," Elly corrected him, starting off again, leaving Ren to catch up to her. "Anyway, go talk to him after the council is done with you."

Ren sensed that the conversation – such as it had been – was over. He hurried after Elly, his mind returning to what she had been saying a couple of minutes ago. Ragnarok . . . Was it actually going to happen? Would he be a part of it?

And most of all . . . would he survive it?
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
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Chapter Twenty-Two - Green and Black

Okay, guys. This chapter is going up early because I'm going to be out of town for the rest of the week and might not have internet. It's the final chapter of Arc 2 - Episode the First, and as such it's a whopper. It's twice as long as the average chapter from earlier stages, and a clear 2,000 words longer than the longest up till now. It's also a very important point in the World of Dreams storyline, as well as where I try my hand at putting some kind of message into my writing. Have fun!

Chapter Twenty-Two

Green And Black

The elders looked grave. Of course, they had looked grave the last time he'd seen them on their thrones, too, but there was an extra level of tension that lay over the room. Lucius Balthazar, in particular, seemed to be shifting in his seat far more often than was strictly necessary.

Ren stood at the exact same spot where he had been placed on his first night in the world of dreams, waiting uncomfortably for someone to say something. The elders simply watched him, however.

At length, Bartholomew Elsin spoke up, his voice deep and rumbling. "The Iehkti'na . . ." he said slowly. "They have contacted us again. The one which appears to be a floating ball of shadow – it appeared in the Glade not two hours past. It did not attack, but it gave us a message."

"
What did it want?" Ren asked, almost scared to find out. The four enormous Iehkti'na that had appeared at the hill had shaken him more than anything else he had seen in the world of dreams, and he wasn't particularly keen to deal with them again.

"
You, yehktira," Lucius put in from the far left.

"
Well, it did repeat Nekros' demand for us to surrender first," Elly added, "but then, yes. It demanded Ren."

"
Wh-what for?" Ren asked, trying – and largely failing – to keep the tremble out of his voice.

"
That's just it. We don't know what it wants with you, really. It told us it would return the next time you entered the world of dreams, which means-"

now

The voice – if that was indeed what it was – had come from directly behind Ren. He whipped around and cursed as he found himself staring directly into a pair of glowing green eyes.

"
Creature!" Elsin thundered, rising in his seat. "You do us a great disrespect by trespassing in this place!"

Drawing back slightly from Ren, the floating, apparently gaseous Iehkti'na spoke in the language of the spirits. The words were different to what Ren had heard just moments before, though. They seemed to be less inside his head and more outside it. Does that even make sense? he wondered. He couldn't make out what it was saying, but it sounded faintly amused.

come with show experience new

Again, that other voice. It penetrated Ren's head, speaking directly into his thoughts even as the nightmare argued with Elsin aloud. What do you want? he asked silently. It was more of a rhetorical question than one he actually expected an answer to, but the voice replied instantly.

good listen want show world

"
Ren," Elsin said, interrupting his thoughts. "It wants me to translate to you its offer. Will you listen?"

"
Will I?" Ren marvelled at the sudden level of apparent power he had been given. He glanced back at the nightmare, which, now he noticed it, was much smaller than it had been the previous day. "Sure, go ahead."

Elsin grimaced slightly, but related the message. "It wants to take you with it, just for tonight. It says it has something to show you. It promises you will be returned safely. Ren, I urge you not to listen to it. It can mean you nothing but harm, I am sure."

"
That may be so, Bartholomew," Salinthia countered smoothly, "but the Iehkti'na have expressed their desire to keep Ren alive. They cannot harm him, for they know as well as we do that the worlds will collapse if they do so."

"
You can't be thinking of letting him go!" Elly burst out. "Are you mad?"

Letting the elders argue amongst themselves for the time being, Ren turned to the nightmare, which still loomed, vaguely threatening, behind him. He looked into its eyes thoughtfully. He was afraid, he couldn't deny it. The nightmares were frightening creatures at any time, and this particular one had a certain enigmatic pressure about it, possibly aided by the fact that it was three times his size and floating a few feet off the ground. What do you want to show me? he asked, realising that it could read what he was thinking. It wasn't a very comforting thought.

show world our world different

"
Ren!" Elly said sharply, jerking him out of his wonderings. "Are you awake?"

"
Ah! Yes!" he said, shivering slightly as he turned back to face the elders. It wasn't cold in the council chamber, but Ren couldn't help but feel like he was encased in ice.

"
What do you want to do?" she asked, leaning forward and regarding him coolly with her sharp green eyes.

"
Do I want to go with it? Not . . . not really," he admitted. "But at the same time, I kind of think I should." Wait, what am I saying? I'd have to be mad to go anywhere with this thing?

"
We highly recommend against it, yehktira," Elsin boomed. "We cannot trust these monsters. Although it has promised you will not be harmed, and they claim to want you alive for their own survival, a promise made by a creature such as this is worth nothing."

"
How do you know that?" Ren asked, once again feeling as if the words weren't quite his own. "Up until just recently, you didn't even know they could talk! Its word could be just as good as yours."

A faint vibration of amusement passed through the room – clearly coming from the Iehkti'na which had now moved to float beside Ren – though none of the elders reacted to what surely should have been a most unusual occurrence. Does that mean I'm the only one who can feel it? Ren wondered. It's like this thing has two voices.

double voice show world yehktira safe

Elly's mouth twisted in disapproval. "While we do urge you not to accept what this Iehkti'na is saying, it is very specific in that it offers you this deal, not us. It observes all our customs when making an offer, and as such, we cannot interfere or deny it the right to pass on its message. We can only warn you. The ultimate decision lies with you, yehktira."

Ren felt his brow crease almost involuntarily as he looked across at the gaseous blur floating beside him. It was formidable, yes, but in a non-threatening way. At least, that was how it seemed now. It had given him the fright of his life just minutes earlier, but now that he actually stopped to look at it, it didn't seem to be malevolent. In fact, it looked sort of like an overgrown Gastly, a Pokemon Ren had always been fond of.

"
If I go with you," he said, speaking aloud for the benefit of the council, "you won't hurt me?"

safe yehktira safe

"
It has already specified that, Ren," Elly said, but he ignored her. He had wanted to hear it again directly from the Iehkti'na.

"
And you'll bring me back here afterwards so that I can return home?"

safe return yehktira home glade

Ren took that as a yes. He considered his options as Elsin, clearly unaware of the covert communication taking place in front of him, translated into the spirit language for the Iehkti'na's benefit. Do I trust the Iehkti'na? Probably not, he admitted. He was curious, though, about what the creature wanted to show him. What could it possibly be? And what reasons might be behind it? Did it want him to understand something that the spirits couldn't – or wouldn't – show him?

He briefly considered the possibility that it was a trap. All things considered, it didn't seem terribly likely. While it would be easy for the Iehkti'na to seize him and hold him in the third ring once he left the Glade – much like Salinthia had threatened to do if the need arose – he didn't think that they would.

But why wouldn't they?

safe promise keep always return

Do I take your word for it? Ren thought, directing the question at the shadowy creature by his side.

word always safe keep promise

Ren sighed aloud. "I'm probably going to regret this," he said decisively, "but I'm going to go." Ignoring the protests of the council, he bit his lip and turned to the door. He couldn't quite explain what he was doing, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

You had better be telling the truth, he said bitterly inside his head as the Iehkti'na breezed along beside him. I'm going to feel like the world's biggest idiot if they turn on me here. I can't trust them.

At the door, he turned and glanced back. The council had descended from their thrones and stood in a huddle in the centre of the room, watching him go with varying degrees of worry and anger evident on their faces. Elsin in particular looked incensed at being ignored. Ren waved back at them, hoping to offer some reassurance. None of them looked particularly mollified, however, especially Elly, who was practically shooting knives at him from her eyes once again.

Outside the building, the nightmare moved ahead of Ren, leading him away from the centre of the Glade, weaving comfortably through the marble buildings as if it had lived there all its life. Ren noticed the spirits shooting it distrustful, angry looks as it passed. He himself was receiving a number of strange glances as he trotted to keep up with it, but he just nodded awkwardly at the spirits as he passed. It felt exceedingly strange to be walking through the Glade with an Iehkti'na as his guide, of course.

Once again, he wondered what in the world he was doing.

At the edge of the Glade, the Iehkti'na paused, seeming to observe the Spirit Wall for a few seconds.

"
I thought your kind couldn't pass through here," Ren said, remembering one of the many things that had been bothering him since the other night's battle.

wall hide wall let through

"
You mean . . . it just hides the Glade, but doesn't stop you from getting in once you find it?" Ren said with a frown, trying to decipher the creature's mysterious syntax.

yes

That was obvious enough, at any rate. "Where . . . where are we going?" he asked, taking a deep breath to calm his suddenly jumpy nerves. "You said you wanted to show me something," he tried again. "What?"

world home origin centre

The Iehkti'na, now at least six metres in diameter, passed through the Spirit Wall, causing a flower of red and green light to pulse from the point of contact, spreading out like ripples on water.

Swallowing heavily, Ren followed it.

As they passed through the forest, the Iehkti'na spoke.

ten days

Ten days? Ren replied silently, wondering if Elly's 'no talking in the forest' rule still applied – or even mattered. What happens in ten days?

ten days die spirits

Is that . . . Nekros' ultimatum? Ren asked, tripping over a tree root and suppressing a curse. Ten days for the spirits to surrender, or he kills them all?

all end finish time

Ragnarok. The word floated across Ren's mind unbidden, and he shuddered involuntarily. Is that it? Everything's happening so fast. What happens to me, then?

yehktira safe need world

Right, Ren said, nodding. That's what I thought. It was a relief to hear it directly from one of the nightmares, too, rather than relying on a translation.

They walked – or rather, Ren walked, with the Iehkti'na floating, almost unseen, beside him – in silence until they reached the edge of the forest, whereupon Ren found himself standing on the same hill that had housed Cicero's command centre during the battle the other night. The tent was still there, torn and crumpled as it was, with a couple of lonely metal struts reaching forlornly for the sky, shreds of canvas still clinging to them. Upturned or smashed desks were strewn everywhere, and pieces of paper fluttered around in a low breeze. It seemed that the spirits hadn't been back to clean up. Ren could hardly blame them. He had seen the looks on their faces after the battle; tidying up their mess would have been the least of their worries.

The Iehkti'na, even larger than it had been before, floated down the hill ahead of Ren, pausing at the bottom over the trampled, bloody field that had served as the battleground. Ren followed it awkwardly, stumbling a little on the uneven, torn ground.

He stopped next to the Iehkti'na, looking out across the gently rolling field that undulated softly away towards the horizon. A familiar light breeze tickled the grass, making it sway slightly. It was as if the entire expanse was shifting, the ground itself sliding back and forwards. Ren felt a little dizzy, so he forced himself to look instead at his enigmatic floating companion. "What's your name?" he asked.

name speak difficult ancient

"
It's hard to pronounce?" Ren guessed. "Then what do I call you?"

shadecolour close name

"
Shadecolour," Ren repeated. It was an unexpectedly sophisticated name, carrying a sort of melancholic beauty. He hadn't imagined that the Iehkti'na would have been capable of such poetry. "Is everything I know about you wrong?"

wrong no different yes

"
Why do you have to kill the spirits?" Ren asked.

prevent true home return come ancient chaos dreams

Ren frowned, trying to make sense of this awkward jumble of words. Clearly Shadecolour didn't speak Ren's language quite as well as it did the spirits'. "They . . . prevent you from going home? Where is that? Oh! Maho's book said . . . you came from the first ring. Is that it? You just want to go back there?"

home

"
But what was that about 'ancient chaos'?" he asked. There was something else happening here, evidently. Something the spirits hadn't told him . . . or something they didn't know themselves.

come show home new

Shadecolour moved again, drifting like a great black cloud across the battlefield, leaving Ren to follow it awkwardly across the ground. The going became easier, though, as he passed the area where the battle had taken place; the ground became smoother and emptier of debris and the grass was whole and free of scorch marks.

"
How far do we have to go?" Ren asked after about five minutes of silence. "Will it take long to get there?"

slow yehktira time yes

"
Hmm," Ren said. "I mean, I have all night, but isn't there some way we can get there faster?" He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he realised the absurdity of his situation. He was chatting almost amicably with the giant black monster, completely irrelevant of the very real danger that he most likely faced. If he was entirely honest with himself, he liked Shadecolour better than some of the spirits he had met – not that the Iehkti'na had exhibited anything resembling a personality yet. That was a disturbing thought.

faster ride wind

Shadecolour's indistinct form bent and wavered, flattening and shrinking into a vaguely rectangular shape. It swooped down next to Ren, keeping pace with him as he stared at it in confusion.

"
What are you meant to be? A magic carpet?" The black rectangle seemed to wiggle slightly in a gesture that might have been a shrug.

ride come yehktira show home

"
You want me to . . . get on?" Ren asked, looking dubiously at the smoky, insubstantial form of the Iehkti'na hovering next to him. "How am I supposed to do that?"

ride fly swift

Ren sighed. If it worked, it was bound to be faster than walking. He climbed awkwardly onto Shadecolour, wobbling slightly at the unfamiliar feeling. The Iehkti'na's body gave slightly beneath him, but it seemed solid enough. He knelt uncomfortably on its back, leaning forward to seek a handhold. There wasn't one, so he just flattened himself against the creature's body as much as was possible, feeling thoroughly ridiculous.

fly fly fly

The sudden acceleration almost caused Ren to lose what little grip he had. Shadecolour climbed as it flew, whipping across the sky at a phenomenal speed. Even Braviary would have no chance keeping up with this.

speed fast fly

How am I even staying on? Ren wondered, glancing over the side of Shadecolour – who, he was becoming more and more convinced, was secretly a magic carpet in disguise. The expansive grassy fields whizzed by at a great speed, and the wind battered at his exposed face in an attempt to tear him off and send him flying to his death, but he managed to hang on. He wasn't holding onto anything on Shadecolour's back, but still he remained firmly ensconced in his position. He settled down a little more and simply enjoyed the ride – for despite all his compunctions about going along with the Iehkti'na, there was something wildly exhilarating about the feeling of flying.

Gradually, Ren noticed a slight change in the terrain below him. The lushness of the omnipresent grass faded slightly, and patches of brown appeared. After a couple of minutes of high-speed flying, Shadecolour slowed down a little and descended a few metres, allowing Ren to take in more details from their surroundings.

dead

It was true. The grass below them now was yellowed and flaxen, growing in sparse, unhealthy-looking clumps.

place death bad

Is this . . . is this where you . . . the Iehkti'na live? Ren asked.

home dead

Ren thought he detected a tinge of bitterness in Shadecolour's mental voice. Neither of them said anything more, and they flew in silence for another five minutes, the condition of the earth growing steadily worse. Even the golden sunlight shining from above seemed unable to lend any semblance of cheer to the earth. After a certain point, even that sunlight seemed to be swallowed up when it hit the ground, overcome by a blanket of darkness that seemed almost tangible.

brothers sleep all thousands

Ren's eyes widened as he realised what the inky black layer on the ground was: thousands upon thousands of Iehkti'na. The host that had pressed in against the spirits at the battle of the hill was now massed beneath him. They were crammed together so tightly that it was difficult for Ren to tell where one began and another ended. Even after realising what it was, the blanket of shadow seemed to remain just that. It was like a single gelatinous mass, oozing across the ground as if it were some kind of disease. Are they the ones polluting the land like this?

not brothers land kill spirits kill

Ren frowned. It was the spirits? But . . . why?

spirits seal brothers break seal kill land die death

Blinking, Ren shook his head. Maho's journal had said something about 'sealing' the spirits, albeit unsuccessfully. Was this where it had happened.

here live nekros

Ren tore his eyes away from the tide of Iehkti'na on the ground – which seemed to be getting thicker – and looked ahead. A large stand of trees thrust up from the dead ground, gnarled claws that lacked leaves. The trees were clustered tightly together like a giant thorn bush, and Ren saw as they approached it that the swarm of Iehkti'na were giving it a wide berth. Fear? Or respect?

glade of dying light

Shadecolour dropped to the ground in front of the trees, rippling in a way that indicated to Ren that he should climb off. The instant he let go, Shadecolour resumed its original form, that of the large, smoky sphere. Its green eyes returned as well; Ren could only presume that they had been on its underside during the flight.

"
The Glade of Dying Light?" he said aloud, approaching the withered, blackened trunks with a creeping sense of dread. The whole place smelled of death, he realised instinctively. Every fibre of his being screamed at him to get as far away from that little grove of trees as he could, but he grit his teeth and forced himself to stay calm. There was a gap in the trees directly in front of him, and he willed himself to step towards it. His body didn't want to obey, preferring to stay right where it was, but he made a concerted effort and walked forwards.

At the treeline, he glanced backwards. Shadecolour was just behind him, and about ten metres further back, the edge of the Iehkti'na army wavered imposingly. Even from this distance, Ren found that they looked more like a wall – easily five metres tall – peppered with glowing eyes than a group of individual creatures. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Ren stepped into the dark clutches of the trees.

Instantly, it felt as if his entire body had been plunged into an icebath. He gasped involuntarily as the cold hit him like a rime-caked sledgehammer, clutching at his bare arms. The thin blue t-shirt he had thrown on that morning did nothing to protect him from the chill, and he swore under his breath.

After just a couple of seconds, however, he noticed that there was no ice anywhere. No sign of precipitation of any kind, actually. For a moment, he wondered if it ever rained in the world of dreams, but then it occurred to him that the grass had to grow somehow – unless the rules were different here, of course. He would have thought, though, that there would at least be a little frozen moisture of some kind in such a cold place.

Wait. It wasn't cold anymore. Ren blinked, feeling rather foolish as he let go of his arms and glanced around. The apparent subzero temperature had receded almost as suddenly as it had come, leaving him baffled. He shivered slightly as he stepped forward again.

It only took him a few seconds to pass through the low, tangled corridor. At the other end, he stopped, blinking uncomprehendingly. The centre of the glade was cold, although not as freezing as the brief blast of cold air he had experienced on the way. The ground was covered in a layer of snow that refused to melt, even though the sun beat down upon it from almost directly above. In the centre of the glade lay a pool of liquid blackness about five metres across, and on the other side sat Nekros.

The giant, humanoid Iehkti'na – some twelve metres tall – rested upon a mighty throne of sparkling, glittering ice. The throne was a work of art, carved into twisting, serpentine designs that twisted around each other all across its surface. Every edge and facet sparkled in the harsh sunlight, a deep, vivid blue that made Ren's eyes hurt to look too closely.

The other two giant Iehkti'na that Ren had seen on the hill two nights ago with Nekros and Shadecolour – the massive spider with too many legs and the flat-headed quadruped – flanked Nekros' throne, watching him with keen eyes. As he observed them, Shadecolour floated down from above the trees to take a place on the other side of the spider-like nightmare.

Unsure quite what to do, Ren stepped forward towards the pool, his shoes crunching in the snow. He made sure to stay well clear of the edge, though; the liquid looked as though it might be dangerous.

you are the yehktira welcome to the glade of dying light

Ren looked up at where Nekros' face should be. Like all the others, it was featureless save for its eyes. It had three, he noticed again. One was set above the other two to form a triangle, and all three were fixed on him. "I-I am the yehktira, yes," he managed once he found his voice.

you will forgive me for speaking directly to your mind our tongues are not made for your language

"
Of course," Ren said, at a loss as to what else he should say. Nekros' grasp of the language seemed to be far superior to Shadecolour's, and for that he was grateful. It was still a strange sensation, though. It was rather like the words were being poured into his head in a continuous, liquid stream. "Might I ask . . . why you wanted me to come here?"

to prove to you that we are not monsters

"
Monsters?" Ren said blankly. "To . . . to be honest, I've kind of steadily been losing that impression lately."

good but you are not yet convinced for to you we seem barbaric and until recently this was true

"
Well," Ren admitted, "the Iehkti'na that Elly and I killed the first night I came . . . they weren't exactly . . ."

they were small and weak and that is why they can pass to the second ring our sheer power prevents us

our sentience is a gift but also a curse for it comes with powerlessness

when one of us dies their essence returns here to the pool in front of you where a new being is created

Ren glanced at the pool by his feet. "So the one I killed the other night . . . just came back to life again?" he asked. "That sounds . . . kind of pointless."

it is indeed for you but for us it is nothing of the sort for we can absorb their essence at the point of rebirth to make ourselves stronger

this pool is why the spirits cannot destroy us

Ren shuddered as he watched the evil-looking black liquid lapping at the ring of stones that formed the pool's border. "Whenever they try, you just . . . respawn," he said. It sounded like something out of a video game, even to him.

twenty years ago we tried to crush the spirits again for but they had a massively destructive weapon that killed hundreds of us at once

they used this weapon four times and each time the victims' essences issued forth from the pool but because they all came forth at once they grouped into new larger stronger more intelligent Iehkti'na

Ren's eyes widened. "You . . . you and Shadecolour, and the others . . . the spirits created you, then? But . . . so that's why you're smarter than the others? Because you're made from so many Iehkti'na?"

that is so yehktira we are the sum of hundreds and so we are mighty we have waited twenty years for an opportunity to crush the spirits and now we have our chance

"
What I don't understand is why you have to do this!" Ren said, forcing as much strength into his voice as he could. "When you were mindless killers, I can understand. I mean, you hated the spirits for sealing you in the past, and you knew nothing other than killing them. But now that you're smarter than that, surely you realise you don't have to kill them? Revenge isn't the way to fix things!"

this is no longer about revenge yehktira for we need to return to our homes

we were displaced by the spirits from our home in what you call the first ring over six hundred years ago and since then we have never been the same

we must kill all the spirits for they cannot understand we only want to return home and as such they stand in our way

The finality of the statement made Ren shiver. "But . . . why haven't you tried to negotiate with them before? I mean, surely they could be made to understand." I seriously doubt it, though, he added silently, remembering the rage he had seen on Elsin's face in the council hall when Shadecolour had appeared.

until recent we be still weak

Another voice chipped in, lighter and somehow sharper than Nekros or Shadecolour.

Nekros spoke again, indicating the spider-like Iehkti'na on Ren's right with a wave of his massive hand.

this is my second known as frostspinner

Frostspinner's light voice chimed in over Nekros' heavy one.

it is good meet yehktira I must tell how

recent we weak still not absorb enough essence each time brother die absorb essence

now we strong

"
You absorb their essences? The ones who die?" Ren asked, and this time it was Nekros who answered.

indeed and this is how we grow stronger yet you ask why we do not talk with the spirits

it was difficult but now at least we have a line of communication that is why we are willing to wait ten days before we move

in those ten days you must convince your friends to allow us safe passage to the first ring and we will leave them in peace

it is the best option for all surely as no further must die we know how attached these spirits are to their own kind

"
I can understand that," Ren said, nodding. Somehow, his fear had largely evaporated. He suddenly felt awfully bad simply for being afraid of the Iehkti'na. They weren't evil, he realised. The spirits had simply told him that they were because it suited them – or perhaps because it was what they themselves believed. "I'll talk to them. I'll get them to change their minds before the ten days are up."

i like you yehktira you are perceptive you see things clearly where others may see only confusion

ten nights from now our army will arrive at the glade of shifting light for our answer

if it is not the one we want the spirits will die to a man and we will make our own way home

if they will help us we will travel with their portals and none need die remember this yehktira we are no savages

tell them yehktira tell them what they must do or it will end in a way that none of us want

Ren swallowed with some difficulty, feeling his throat tighten as he nodded in acquiescence. "I will," he said, and he meant it. "But that aside . . . I think I owe you an apology. I believed that you were monsters . . . I thought you were mindless beasts like the spirits said. I'm sorry about that."

there is no need for apology yehktira most of our number still remain that way and although they listen to us for the most part we sometimes cannot prevent them from running wild a little

we are indeed monsters in a way but we seek to change that all we want is to return home you will bear our message for they do not like to speak with us

shadecolour will take you back to the glade of shifting light now

Ren almost protested. I want to know more, he tried to say. I want to hear your stories! I want to really know where I stand!

there will be time for this later yehktira but now you must leave for i sense your time in this world is drawing to a close for the moment

Ren smiled guiltily. He had forgotten that Nekros and the others could read his thoughts.

come yehktira fly swift

Shadecolour, seeming enthused, floated upwards again and out over the top of the Glade of Dying Light. Sensing that he was dismissed, Ren backed slowly away from Nekros and the others.

Nekros remained, unmoving, on his icy throne. When Ren reached the passage that had brought him into the Glade, he finally turned and walked forwards, out towards where he could already see Shadecolour waiting.

fly quick safe promise return

"
Of course," Ren said, glancing more than a little nervously at the seething wall of Iehkti'na that still surrounded the Glade. They still looked awfully threatening, roiling and writhing as they were. Paradoxically, the indistinct mass of smaller creatures outside the Glade were much more frightening than the giants inside it. "Couldn't you . . . take on a different shape?" he asked Shadecolour, remembering the experience he had had on the initial journey. While he had somehow, inexplicably managed to avoid falling off, it was still an experience he did not particularly want to repeat.

fly shape bird wings

"
That would be better," Ren said as he watched Shadecolour morph again, its indistinct form splitting and shifting. When it stopped, it had formed itself into a passable likeness of a gigantic bird, perched on the ground next to Ren. It was still taller than he was, and it took him some effort to climb on, but once he was firmly entrenched on its back, he felt much safer than he had before.

fly fly fly

With an eerily silent flap of its wings, Shadecolour sliced its way into the sky, climbing more quickly this time so that they were a good way above the Iehkti'na horde.

As Ren watched the tide of Iehkti'na recede below him, growing thinner and thinner as the two of them passed over it, he marvelled once again at the sheer size of Nekros' army. The spirits would stand no chance whatsoever if the Iehkti'na decided to attack, he realised. While the spirits were clearly better fighters than the average Iehkti'na, they would eventually fall to the force of numbers, especially considering the fact that the Iehkti'na were reborn the instant they were killed. He wondered briefly if the spirits knew about that. There was no reason they would, he supposed. From what he had heard, they had been more than happy to stay in the Glade of Shifting Light.

What if they did manage to survive, though? With Maho's magic and all the others fighting as well . . . no, it would only be a matter of time. Each death would be one sword they could never get back, whereas the Iehkti'na have their pool. And that's not even considering the four big guys. He had only glimpsed the power of Nekros and the others at the battle of the hill, but he knew that there had to be a huge reserve of untapped power within each of them.

strong four we

Clearly, Shadecolour had been listening in on his musings. Ren smiled uncomfortably. Yes, I'm sure you are, he replied. Soaring a clear hundred metres above the grassy plains atop a giant bird made of shadows and magic, he felt a little like some sort of god. The thought chilled him slightly, but it sent a foreign tingle down his spine at the same time.

It didn't take long to reach the edge of the forest. Ren expected to touch down and walk the rest of the way, but Shadecolour kept flying, slowing down a little and dipping so that it skimmed the treetops.

glade shifting enter difficult above

fun fly fast hold yehktira

Eyes widening, Ren leaned forward against Shadecolour's back, wrapping his arms around the creature's barely-tangible neck just as it banked, climbing slightly and then aiming downwards again at a patch of green foliage that appeared much the same as any other. "What are you-"

The words were snatched from his mouth as Shadecolour dived. Folding its wings back, it plummeted almost vertically towards the trees. The wind screamed in Ren's ears as he clung on for dear life. Just as they were about to hit the trees below, however, a rainbow-coloured starburst exploded in Ren's vision, making his eyes ache briefly. He caught a brief glimpse of white marble and soft grass before the Iehkti'na rolled in midair, corkscrewing madly through the sky above the Glade of Shifting Light.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ren could see a trail of glowing, multicoloured threads marking their trajectory like a jet trail. Shadecolour circled three times around the Glade, slowing down slightly with each complete revolution. When they finally came to land, there was a perfect spiral of splintered colour hanging in the air, fading slowly even as Ren watched.

His legs shaking slightly, Ren slid off Shadecolour's back. He forced himself to stay upright, though his body wasn't too keen on the idea. He staggered, but an arm was quickly thrust under his shoulders, removing the burden of staying upright from his confused limbs. He glanced across to see that it was Elsin's muscular arm that had caught him.

"
Did it hurt you, yehktira?" Elsin rumbled, the thunder in his eyes and voice giving Ren the impression that he was longing for an answer in the affirmative just so that he had an excuse to try and kill Shadecolour.

"
N-no," Ren managed to say, finding his feet once again and shrugging Elsin off to prove that he was all right. "I'm fine. It just . . . flew. I'm not great with flying." He hadn't realised how much hanging on he had been doing with his knees since Shadecolour had assumed its bird form, but the concerned body parts were telling him all about it now.

Shadecolour had returned to being an indistinct blob, and now it spoke aloud in the spirits' language once again, its voice issuing from somewhere deep within it. Elsin and the rest of the council – who had arrived just moments earlier – listened with tight expressions on their faces. Simultaneously, the Iehkti'na spoke into Ren's mind.

well meet yehktira ten days remember must

I know, Ren said silently. I'll talk to them.

Having said its piece, Shadecolour floated away, disappearing through the Spirit Wall without a further word. Red ripples flowed across the magical wall as it left.

"
You're quite sure you're not hurt?" Cecilia said anxiously, hurrying over to grasp him by the shoulders and stare into his eyes.

"
No, I'm fine," Ren said, gently lifting her hands off him as he turned to the rest of the council. "More importantly, I need to talk to you all urgently."

"
Ten days, we know," Elly said. She looked a little more withdrawn than usual. "You need to go home now, Ren. We will deal with this."

"
No, you don't understand!" He started to protest, but Elly cut him off with a sharp hand gesture.

"
Yes, we do. You can't stay in this ring for too much longer, or it will adversely affect you when you leave."

"
But-"

"
Anything you have to say can be said tomorrow night, can't it?"

"
Well . . ." He bit his lip. "I suppose that's true," he admitted.

"
Then leave," Elly said, stepping aside to reveal the starry expanse of a portal to the second ring. "Now."

He wanted to say something else, to try and convince them. He looked around at all of their faces, hoping they wouldn't do anything rash while he was awake. Elsin was still smouldering angrily to one side; Cecilia was watching him anxiously; Elly and Salinthia both simply looked frigid as they nodded him towards the portal; and Lucius Balthazar was watching him with an oddly detached kind of interest. When he met Ren's eyes, he nodded slowly and turned away, heading towards the place where Shadecolour had passed through the Spirit Wall. Can I trust them?

Of course not, whispered a treacherous corner of his mind.

Ren stepped into the portal and let it suck him through to the second ring.

He was standing in Steven's library this time, although there was no sign of Katrina. Of course. Closing his eyes, he sank to the floor, his fatigue, confusion and newfound mistrust all suddenly piling themselves on his shoulders like a ton of bricks.

As the scent of the dusty red carpet invaded his nostrils, his outstretched hand found the edge of the portal to the first ring, yanking him through with a peculiar jerk from behind his navel.

"
I just don't get them," Ren grumbles to Afro Glameow. "Do you understand what's meant to be going on?" he asked.

Afro Glameow yowls noncommittally, taking another lick of the sugar lump sitting in its saucer.

Ren sighs and leans back on his hands, looking up through the twisting vines at the silvery sky that is just faintly visible through the riot of colour and foliage. "I didn't think so," he says quietly. "Whose side am I meant to be on now? Are there even any sides any more? Am I meant to be on one at all?"

As Afro Glameow yowls again, the silver sky begins to grow brighter and brighter, slowly draining the colour from the world around him. His mushroom has faded from vivid crimson to a dull blood-red, he notices as he looks down at it. Glancing back up at the sky almost blinds him.

His cheek stings inexplicably, and he claps a gloved hand to it with a refined, gentlemanly curse.
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
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Chapter Twenty-Three - Festival of the Sky

Well, here we go. Time to venture forth into the amusingly distant realm of Arc 3. This will be a short arc, but it will seem far longer due to the fact that I'm going to leave you on that cliffhanger from last chapter until the end of it. Hehe.

Arc 3 - Parabasis the First

Chapter Twenty-Three
Festival of the Sky

Ren awoke sharply, something hard digging into his cheek. "Yeowch!" he exclaimed, rolling away from it instinctively and cracking the side of his head on the wall. "Ow, dammit," he muttered as he sat up, searching for the source of the pain.

It came in the form of Zangoose, who was still perched awkwardly on the edge of Ren's mattress, one claw extended towards where Ren's face had been just moments before. Ren stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment before he remembered. "Oh! Right, I told you to wake me up if anything went wrong. But what . . . what's wrong?"

Ren glanced around the room, frowning slightly. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The usual Slateport morning sun streamed through the window, splashing familiar golden light across the floor.

"Oh. I see," Ren said at length. "Mom coming in and opening the curtains was enough to constitute an emergency. Well, fair enough," he sighed. "I should be getting up anyway. We're going to Fortree today."

Zangoose hissed in a manner that was almost contented before bounding out of the room and disappearing down the hall. Puzzled, Ren tumbled out of bed and made to follow him before realising he was still in his pajamas.

It seemed his mother had been shopping sometime in the last few days, because when he opened his wardrobe, expecting only to see his single change of clothes, the rack was full of clothes that most certainly would not have fit him five years ago. Remembering how windy Fortree had been the last time he had visited, he picked a pair of black jeans and a blue t-shirt with long sleeves, throwing a zip-up red hoodie and a short-sleeved tee into his bag as well just in case. They fit him remarkably well; his mother had always been good at guessing sizes, he remembered with a grin.

The morning sun in Slateport was powerful at this time of year, so he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he opened the window, letting the salty breeze counteract the heat somewhat.

This stuff in the world of dreams . . . everything's happening so quickly, he thought, the memories suddenly surfacing in his mind. That in itself was disturbing. If he couldn't remember what had happened as soon as he woke up, who knew what else he might be missing? Ren didn't remember dreams often, but his experiences in the rings were more than that, he was sure of it. The fact that the memories sought to evade him was worrying.

I can't do anything now, he told himself firmly. I just have to worry about my life at the moment. He felt kind of bad for ignoring his duties as yehktira, but there was really nothing he could do while awake. He had ten nights to convince the spirits to let the Iehkti'na have their way. Ten nights would be plenty. Won't it?

He counted off on his fingers. Seven nights would put him at the following Monday, plus another three made Thursday. The first day of the Unova League. Great.

If the world ends, at least I'll die after my fifteenth birthday. The morbid thought made him chuckle hollowly. Some consolation that is.

Shaking his head in vague amusement, Ren went downstairs to face the day, doing his best to put all thoughts of Ragnarok and ultimatums from his mind.

"Thanks for the clothes, Mom," he said as he entered the kitchen.

"Ah, there you are, dear! Let me look at you – do they fit all right?"

"They fit fine, Mom," he said, lifting his arms and half-turning on the spot. "When did you find the time to go shopping?"

"I went yesterday while you were out training with Cole," she said. "And dear, while I do think he's adorable, your Pokemon is kind of getting in the way."

Ren glanced down to see Zangoose, obstinately seated right in front of the kitchen sink where his mother was trying to wash dishes. "What are you doing, you daft Pokemon?" he asked with a laugh.

Zangoose yowled hopefully, causing Ren to roll his eyes. "Of course. You're hungry. Now I think about it, everybody else probably is, too," he added as an afterthought, glancing at the other Poke Balls on his belt.

"Outside, sweetie," his mother said pointedly, tilting her head at the back door. "I got a big sack of Pokemon food when I was out yesterday. It's by the vegetable garden."

Ren shook his head in wonder. "You really do think of everything, don't you?"

"I've been a mother for fifteen years, Ren. It's what I do."

"Thanks, Mom. All right, you," he added, nudging Zangoose with his toe. "Outside, and stop bothering people."

The back garden had always been one of Ren's favourite places. Little more than a crevice between the side of the house and the sloping cliff face behind it, it was largely overgrown save for a few square metres that had been cleared directly outside the door. Half of that clear area had been dug up and planted with a variety of vegetables that grew well in the limited sun the area received – broccoli, chard, peas and beans, among others.

It was shady and cool at this time of the morning, offering a welcome change from the warmth of the sun inside. Ren let Camerupt out first, careful to avoid the vegetable patch. The others followed in quick succession, and Ren squeezed past them in the limited space to open the large cloth sack of Pokemon food. Finding a clean scoop nearby, he dumped large numbers of the bulky brown pellets into a stack of bowls of varying sizes that stood next to the food. Absolutely everything, he thought fondly, smiling.

"You guys'll have to eat out here while we're at home," he told them, putting another scoop in Camerupt's bowl. "There's no room inside. I'll look at clearing some more of this stuff away some time, actually," he said, kicking at the brambles and weeds that hemmed them in.

Camerupt snorted uncomfortably, and Ren grinned. "Yes, you can trample on it, but for the love of Arceus, stay off that vegetable patch. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

After his own breakfast, Ren collected his Pokemon and headed for the front door. It was already eight twenty-five, and his ride was supposed to be arriving in five minutes. Not for the first time, he wondered what sort of ride it would be. Driving to Fortree would take all day, so that was out. Was he supposed to be flying? But then surely Gerard would have simply told him to go to the airport. Besides, there would have been no need for such secrecy.

"See you later, Mom!" he said quickly as he passed her.

"You're going now? When will you be back?"

"I . . . honestly don't know," Ren said. "It might be tomorrow, considering how long it takes to get to and from Fortree."

"Hmm. All right, honey. See you when you get back. Have fun, now!"

"I will," he promised. Opening the door, he stepped outside and almost crashed into something large and metallic standing on the garden path.

A grating squawk split the air, along with a slightly creaky flapping of enormous wings. Ren stepped back and looked upwards, meeting the sharp yellow eyes of the very large Pokemon blocking his front door.

"Skarmory," he said. "And one as big as you can only belong to one person . . ." He sidled awkwardly past the giant Flying-type – which stood fully twice as tall as he did – and looked up at its rider.

"Hiya, Ren! It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Sure has, Winona," Ren said.

The Fortree Gym Leader grinned, swinging herself down off Skarmory's back with practiced grace. She still wore her favourite blue flight suit, he noticed, with her unnaturally lavender hair flowing out from under the cap. "It's good to see you, Ren. Congratulations on making Champion."

"Thanks," he said awkwardly. "It feels weird hearing you say that, you know . . . especially considering I never properly beat you in the first place."

"Ah, ah, none of that now," she said good-naturedly. "I know the official result came out as a draw, but I gave you the Feather Badge because I could tell you deserved it. Okay?"

"All right," Ren said. "I know, I know. You did tell me at the time, but it doesn't stop it feeling weird."

"Well, let's have a rematch some time," Winona suggested. "We can see if you really are better than me then. Oh, hello. You must be Ren's mother."

Ren blinked and turned around to see his mother standing in the doorway, obviously having heard Skarmory's screech. "Oh, Mom, this is Winona, the Fortree Gym Leader," he said.

"It's nice to meet you," his mother said, eyeing Skarmory nervously. "I'm Thalia Goodwin."

"Back up a little, Skarmory," Winona said quietly, tapping on the oversized Pokemon's side. It retreated a way down the garden path, making room in front of the door for all three of them. "I've come to steal Ren off you for a day or two, I'm afraid."

"Oh, that's all right, so long as you bring him back in one piece. It's remarkably nice of you to come all this way just to pick him up, though."

"Oh, I was in Dewford on business yesterday anyway," Winona said airily, "so I asked if I could drop in and bring him along to the Feather Carnival. The timing was perfect. Actually, speaking of timing . . . we really should be on our way now if we want to get there in time for the start of the festival. I'm sorry I couldn't stop for longer."

"No, no, I understand perfectly. Go on. Have fun!"

Winona turned to Ren. "Have you flown on a Pokemon before?" she asked. "I don't imagine your Braviary would be quite strong enough to ride on yet."

For a brief moment, an image of soaring across the third ring on Shadecolour's back flashed across Ren's mind. "Once or twice," he said.

"Up you go, then," said Winona. "I'll sit behind you so you don't fall off."

"Uh," Ren said, glancing up at Skarmory's towering steel flank.

"Oh, right," Winona said, the faintest edge of amusement in her voice. "I'll give you a leg up." Kneeling on the ground, she laced her fingers into a stirrup and gestured for Ren to step into them. When he did, she boosted him upwards, and he managed to scramble onto Skarmory's back.

It was certainly a different feeling to riding on Shadecolour, he could tell already. While the Iehkti'na had been almost intangible, seeming to slip and give under his hands, Skarmory was all solid physicality and pointed edges. He felt more secure atop the Steel-type, but he wasn't sure it would be as good of a conversationalist.

Winona leapt expertly up behind him. "All right up there?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, suddenly not entirely sure. If he fell off Skarmory while it was in flight, there would be no question as to the outcome. Somehow, the threat had seemed less potent in the world of dreams, but in the light of day, he was very aware of how dangerous flying was.

"I've been flying on Skarmory for twelve years now, Ren. Nobody's fallen off in all that time," Winona said from behind him, as if reading his thoughts. "Come on, Skarmory! Hup!"

With a great screech, Skarmory leapt upwards, its great wings unfolding and beating powerfully. In seconds, Ren's house was as a toy against the cliff as the great Steel-type winged its way upward. Ren craned his neck backwards and waved in the general direction of his house, clinging to one of Skarmory's neck ridges with his other hand. Skarmory wheeled and corkscrewed upwards, soon clearing the cliff and setting its sights on the north.

"It's about an hour and a half from here to Fortree," Winona said, raising her voice to counter the wind blowing in their ears. "Talking up here's kind of impractical, so it's probably best if you just enjoy the view!"

Ren nodded to show that he understood; he was already looking down, searching for landmarks he recognised. After a few minutes, he spotted the Cycling Road below them, snaking back and forth over Route 110. He had biked the track a couple of times, but it was hard work, especially going uphill – an almost two-hour slog. Now he soared effortlessly over the twisting road, catching glimpses here or there of tiny cyclists making their way along one way or the other.

About forty minutes later, they passed Mauville. Skarmory's trajectory took them some way to the east, but Ren spotted the city's buildings glittering in the distance. That's where the Contest is on Thursday. The thought reminded him uncomfortably of Gerard's promise that he would get Ren to compete in a Contest some time. He wasn't too keen on the idea.

Soon enough, the terrain changed as they crossed a twisting blue river and passed over a heavily overgrown road that Ren remembered vividly from his time journeying around Hoenn on foot. Route 119, where it rained almost constantly. Thankfully, the sky was clear today, but there were some nasty-looking thunderheads hanging around on the horizon, and the wind was picking up. Ren shivered and held onto Skarmory's neck a little tighter. While flying was certainly exciting, it wasn't something he planned on making a habit out of. If he could fly by himself, like Braviary, he might consider it, but trusting his own life to the Pokemon beneath him rubbed him the wrong way a little. It wasn't that he didn't trust Skarmory and Winona, but it just felt awfully uncomfortable.

As it was, he was quite relieved when, some time later, the tangled, grassy expanse of Route 119 gave way to the treetops that signified the approach to Fortree. Looking down, Ren glimpsed flashes of activity through the trees as they soared overhead – spots of colour, people and Pokemon moving.

And everywhere there were Flying-type Pokemon. Fortree's natural ecosystem and lack of heavy industry made it a haven for many kinds of Pokemon, but those who took to the sky found a special place among its many levels of forest and brush. Pokemon native to the Hoenn region could be spotted everywhere; Taillow, Swellow, Swablu and Pelipper were among the most common, ducking and diving through the sky in apparent joy at the appearance of Winona and Skarmory. Ren glimpsed an Altaria floating peacefully past, as well as a variety of Pokemon from farther afield. Hoppip and Skiploom from Johto bounced past on a lively breezed, and a flock of Starly – recently introduced from Sinnoh – twittered madly in a particularly tall tree.

Before long, the leafy canopy split apart, revealing a wide area open to the sky. Ren was forcefully reminded of the Glade of Shifting Light, but Fortree's centre seemed infinitely more alive. Every inch of the large, open space was filled with people bustling around busily, setting up stalls, hanging strings of coloured bunting and – right in the middle – building a large circular stage. When Skarmory threw back its head and shrieked proudly, everybody below craned their necks upwards to see. Some waved as Skarmory circled down to the ground, and Winona waved back, leaving Ren unsure as to whether he should do the same. Suddenly, he was inadvertently the centre of attention again.

Winona slipped off Skarmory's back as soon as it landed, and Ren followed her awkwardly. They had landed right in the middle of Fortree's square, next to the raised stage that appeared to be in the latter stages of assembly.

"I need to help out with some of the preparations, Ren," she said quickly, rubbing Skarmory's head affectionately. "I'll be busy till about eleven thirty, when the Feather Carnival officially opens. I hate to drop you like this, but I promise I'll come back and find you later. I'll leave you with someone . . ." She tailed off, glancing around at the crowd of people that milled around them, many giving Ren curious looks.

"It's fine, really," Ren said. "I'll find something to do for a while."

"Nonsense," Winona said. "Ah, perfect. Karl!" she called, raising her voice and beckoning to a boy about Ren's age who was sauntering past with a lollipop stick poking from his mouth. "Karl, come over here for a minute."

Looking vaguely interested, the boy wandered over, sizing Ren up casually as he approached. Ren took the opportunity to do the same. Karl was a little taller than he was, with messy black hair that looked like it hadn't been trimmed in years, straggling its way down to his shoulders. His jeans were torn and his brown shirt looked like it had been splashed with yellow paint at some point in the distant past. "You're the new Champion kid," he said after a few seconds, drawling slightly as he spoke. His face betrayed none of his emotions.

"That's right," Ren said, deciding to play it safe. "I'm Ren Goodwin."

"Ren, Karl's a Pokemon Trainer too," Winona said. "I'll leave you with him for a while. Karl, show Ren around, all right? Try and keep out of trouble until the carnival opens, all right?"

"Whatever," Karl said, still not taking his eyes off Ren. "Come on, Champ." He turned and slouched off, not waiting to see if Ren was following.

Ren glanced doubtfully at Winona, who shrugged. "He's a good kid," she said. "Just a little grumpy sometimes. You'll get on fine, I'm sure."

"If you say so," Ren said, raising his eyebrows as he followed Karl into the crowd. When he caught up to the other boy, he fell into step beside him, unsure whether he should initiate a conversation.

Karl beat him to it. "I saw your battle on the news the other day," he said, ducking skilfully under a large beam of wood carried by two muscular Machoke. "Pretty good stuff."

"Thanks," Ren said. "So you're a Trainer too? Have you tried for the League?"

"Eh, that's not really my style," Karl said dismissively. He stopped beside an empty wooden stall and sat down on a bench, spreading his legs out casually in front of him. "Oi, sit down. I know Winona said to show you around, but you're just going to get stood on with people running round like this. There'll be time for that later."

Ren took a seat next to Karl on the bench, watching the proceedings going on around him with amazement. The entire square was filled with people, and it was a miracle that nobody was getting trampled on or brained with the large pieces of construction material that were being toted around. "Why is everything happening in such a rush? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Rained like hell yesterday," Karl said. "All this was meant to be done already, but the rain really made it difficult. We did what we could, but some things are just too dangerous when it's wet."

"I guess that makes sense," Ren said with a slight smile, watching a pair of Taillow hanging a string of coloured streamers between two trees nearby. "But you were saying that the League's not really your style . . . what do you mean by that? I thought just about everyone who trained Pokemon seriously was trying for the League."

"Not all of us, Champ," Karl said with a grin. "We have our own goals, and some of them aren't quite so lofty. Me, I wanna be a Gym Leader."

"That's not something you hear every day," Ren commented.

"You think that's funny?" Karl growled, suddenly belligerent.

"No, not at all," Ren said quickly. "It's just interesting. I mean . . . all the Trainers I met on my journey talked about going to the Pokemon League and becoming Champion. None of them had anything but that single-minded goal . . . I guess I was no different. But it's cool to meet someone who wants to do something else. Do you specialise in a particular type yet?"

"The Dark type," Karl said, sounding enthused. "They're just so cool, and they kick so much butt. And would you believe it, there's no Gym for them anywhere? Not here, or in Kanto, Johto or Sinnoh. Not even overseas in Unova!"

Ren frowned as he racked his memory. "Now you mention it, you're right," he said with some surprise. "I wonder why that is."


"I bet there's just nobody who's tank enough to train them properly," Karl said with a derisive laugh. "If you want to train Dark-types, you have to be a total badass. The only people I've heard of who specialise in them are Sidney from the Elite Four here, Karen from Johto and Grimsley from Unova. They're all Elites, though. They were just too awesome to start a Gym, so they went all the way."

"You don't want to go all the way?" Ren asked curiously. "Why just settle for being a Gym Leader?"

"It's not about 'settling', really," Karl said, looking pensive. "I just reckon being a Gym Leader would be so much more fun. Elites don't get to battle as often. They take one challenger a year, mostly, and I guess they battle each other for practice every now and then, but a Gym Leader gets to battle all the time. And there's so much other cool stuff you get to do, as well!"

"I guess you're right," Ren said. "I'm in the same boat as the Elites, I guess. Not much battling to do. I mean, who's going to battle me? I can't accept official challenges, and I'm kind of . . . at a place where there's nobody else on my level. It makes me sound a bit stuck-up to say it, but . . ."

"Lonely at the top, huh?" Karl said. "See, there's why. That's why I want to be a Gym Leader. You get to be right in the thick of it all the time."

"Nah, being Champion has its perks," Ren said. "I get to come and see cool stuff like this, for one." He waved at the increasingly frantic activity that was still taking place all around them. Things were coming together at a remarkable pace, he noticed. Coloured signs were being stapled to stalls, the last few boards were being hammered into place on the main stage, and the chaotic tangle of streamers and flags overhead had been transformed into an elaborate lattice of colour that left plenty of open space – for flying, Ren presumed. People were standing on stepladders and hanging unlit lanterns on wires and poles, he noticed.

"Yeah, this is pretty neat," Karl said, his voice softening slightly. "The Feather Carnival is the biggest event on Fortree's calendar, you know. Everybody pitches in to help out, even outsiders like me."

"You're not from here?" Ren asked.

"Well," Karl said, "I've lived here for five years, so I'm pretty much part of the family."

Ren was about to ask where Karl had originally come from, but something in the other boy's dark blue eyes – which refused to meet Ren's – told him that it would be a bad idea. Instead, he steered the conversation back towards previously established safe ground. "You said you want to specialise in Dark-types, right? How's that going for you? You've been collecting them?"

"I have two," Karl said. Suddenly his eyes lit up, making him look unexpectedly young. "Want to see them?"

"Of course," Ren said. "I don't think we'll have time – or room – for a battle right now, but-"

"Oh, hell no," Karl said with a laugh, standing up. "I'm not even gonna think battling you. Not with the team I have right now."

"Fine," Ren said. "Let's just see them, then."

"Come on, we'll move out of the way first," Karl said, glancing around. "We're in the way too much as it is, and Pokemon running around will just make us more annoying. Come with me." He led Ren back past the stall that they had been sitting in front of. He crashed through some undergrowth for a few seconds, Ren following awkwardly, until they came to another road running horizontally in front of them.

Ren's heart lifted as he saw the treehouses of Fortree for the first time in two years. While a good number of the city's buildings were earthbound, especially the larger ones, there were still many people in Fortree who felt the need to be closer to the sky – and to the trees. Small, lightweight buildings were built on platforms attached firmly to the branches of one or more trees at various heights. Rope ladders and makeshift staircases were the norm, and a vast number of rope bridges criss-crossed through the canopy.

Karl skidded down an embankment to the road, which was entirely deserted save for a few people hurrying towards the square about fifty metres away. Ren followed, feeling vaguely uneasy. It wasn't often he found himself standing on a road with no traffic or pedestrians in sight. Then again, roads in Fortree hardly felt like roads at all. They were hard-packed earth, not tarmac or gravel; they hardly ever saw vehicles heavier than a bicycle. Hidden beneath the canopy as it was, Fortree existed in a perpetual state of leafy gloom that somehow managed not to seem gloomy at all. The shade from the trees that grew all through the city meant that it was cool at ground level, and the whole city was filled with the scent of life – leaves, earth and bark.

I love it here, Ren realised suddenly, hearing the sounds of hectic construction and preparation fade away behind him as he moved away from the square. This city is amazing, not least because it's more alive than any town I've ever been in.

"You awake, Champ?" Karl asked.

"What? Oh, right. Sorry. I was just . . . daydreaming," Ren explained. It was largely true. He had an picture in his mind's eye of moving to Fortree some day, spending the rest of his life among the trees with his Pokemon.

"Never had much patience for dreamers," Karl said, fiddling with the two Poke Balls at his belt.

"Isn't that what we were just talking about, though?" Ren asked, puzzled. "How your dream was to be a Gym Leader?"

"Well, sorta. But I'm working at it. It's not just a dream – more like an inevitability."

"That's . . . good," Ren said, unsure how else to react. There was something admirable about Karl's dedication, even if he covered it up with a rough exterior. He doesn't seem to be trying too hard to hide it, though, he thought silently. But when he was talking to Winona, he was so grouchy. What's with that?

"So," Karl said after a few seconds of tense silence. "Want to see the team?"

"Yeah!" Ren said. He was interested to see what kind of Pokemon a person like Karl would raise. Dark-types, obviously. But what sort?

With a loud crack, Karl opened the first Poke Ball. A small purple creature appeared by his feet, vaguely goblin-like in appearance. Its eyes literally appeared to be sparkling blue gems, and it had a mouthful of wicked-looking teeth in its disproportionately large head. "My Sableye," he said proudly. "Caught him on Dewford Island. He's a real trooper. Half Ghost-type too, so he doesn't take many bad hits – if you can even hit him, that is." Giggling madly, the Pokemon faded almost completely from view in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the trees.

Ren knelt down to inspect the Pokemon – what little he could see of it, anyway. "Sableye are quite rare," he said as it faded back into visibility. "You did well to catch one, and he's a big specimen too. They're usually a little more fragile than this one, I think – he's pretty bulky."

Karl seemed pleased with the praise, but Ren could tell he was trying to hide it. Why would he do that? "You want to see my other one?" he asked, clearly making an effort to curb his eagerness.

"Sure," Ren said.

Another crack, and a much more familiar Pokemon sat before Ren on the road, cocking its head suspiciously at him as it regarded him with wary red eyes. Its fur was black and grey, shaggy but well-looked after. A long, warped scar ran across its muzzle and right up to its left eye. "This is Scar the Mightyena," Karl said, an extra note of pride evident in his voice this time.

"Original," Ren muttered as he reached out to pet the canine Dark-type. Its eyes followed his hand like laser trackers, but it consented to let him scratch it behind the ears, which it seemed to enjoy well enough. "Your first Pokemon?"

"You can tell?" Karl seemed surprised.

"Not hard, really," Ren said. "There's cues from both you and the Pokemon. Little things like the way Sableye stands facing ever so slightly away from you, like it's not quite comfortable with you yet. It's not as skittish as a recent capture would be, but it certainly speaks of a Pokemon that's used to being a third wheel. That's probably not good, actually. You should probably make sure to look after Sableye a bit more so it doesn't feel left out."

Karl was staring at him, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. "You're screwing with me, right? You can tell that after just a few seconds?"

"So it's true?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do use Mightyena more often than Sableye."

"It's not so much about how often each Pokemon gets to battle," Ren said, standing up and looking Karl in the eyes. "Some members of my team get used more than others, and I'm sure any top-tier Trainer would tell you the same. It's okay to play favourites a little bit. Everybody has a Pokemon that's special to them. For me, it's Zangoose. But all you need to do is make sure your others get the attention they need."

"I-I see," Karl said quietly. "I'll . . . I'll do that."

"Good," Ren said brightly, checking his watch. "Shouldn't we be getting back to the square about now? It's five to eleven."

"Yeah, let's do that," Karl said.

Ren watched the other boy with no small interest as he returned his Pokemon and led the way back towards the square. Karl was hiding something, he was sure of it. He didn't know what – it might not even be anything major – but there was no question that there was something that needed to be brought out into the open if he ever wanted to be a Gym Leader.

In the square, the majority of the preparations seemed to be complete. Vendors were stacking crates of drinks and making last-minute adjustments to displays, small children dashed about excitedly and Winona was visible on the central stage with Skarmory.

Karl jerked his head towards the stage questioningly. "You wanna go over there? Looks like they're about ready to get underway."

"Sure." Ren nodded, and the two of them began forging their way through the crowd.

When they reached the stage, Winona noticed them and extended a hand to pull Ren up next to her. "Come on, Champion," she said with a slightly mischievous smile. "Do you feel up to making a speech?"

"A speech?" Ren shook his head quickly. "I can't do that!"

"Well, I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice," Winona said. "Steven told me you're to make a speech whether you like it or not."

Ren cursed under his breath. "That guy, honestly . . ."

"Come on, it's easy," she said, her voice taking on a slightly kinder tone as she appeared to notice his distress. "I'll do the buildup and then hand it over to you. You just have to say a few words about how happy you are to be here and then declare the Feather Carnival open. Simple!"

As Winona turned away briefly to talk to somebody else, Ren felt something hit his lower leg. He looked down in surprise to see Karl glaring up at him.

"You pussy out here, you're worth nothing," he said, his words audible only to Ren due to the noise of the crowd. "Got it?"

Ren laughed despite himself. "Got it," he said. Inexplicably, he did feel better.

Here we go again, he said silently. This is the time when I stop worrying about stupid things and just do it. He took a deep breath, tilting his head back to look at the sky. As always, several of the ubiquitous Flying-type Pokemon wheeled overhead, relaxed and loose. He could learn a thing or two from them at times like this, he supposed.
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
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Chapter Twenty-Four - Soar

So this is my celebratory exams-are-over chapter! It's a bit of a long one, but nothing ridiculous. I've been writing a lot thanks to NaNo this month, so this is the result of my labour. I've got two more chapters lined up after this, so I'll throw the next one out . . . after the weekend. Maybe Tuesday? Thanks to you guys who are still reading - I appreciate that this fic chugs along a bit more slowly than others I've seen, so I'm truly grateful to everyone who slogs it out with me.

Chapter Twenty-Four
Soar

"The Feather Carnival will be underway in just a minute!" Winona said, speaking into a microphone someone had handed her. Her voice boomed out from speakers arrayed strategically around the square. Drawn by her voice, the residents of Fortree and the multitude of tourists that had been milling around aimlessly began to converge in front of the stage.

Ren could feel their eyes on him. At least half the crowd had recognised him, he was certain of it. While their attention was still largely on Winona, he knew that wouldn't last. Any minute now, he would be the centre of attention. Near the front of the crowd, he caught a glimpse of Karl's scowling face again. Rather than worry him, though, it paradoxically made him feel better. I told myself I was going to get over this, he chastised himself silently.

"We have a very special guest here at the Feather Carnival with us this year," Winona was saying. "Folks, I want you to meet Ren Goodwin, the newest Champion of the Hoenn League."

Ren smiled and waved. It wasn't so hard. The people of Fortree cheered as he gave them an awkward bow, thinking it the polite thing to do. With a start, he realised that Winona was handing him the microphone.

"It's easy," she reminded him in a whisper.

For the first time, Ren believed her. "Hello, Fortree City!" he said brightly, letting the trees and the atmosphere of the city itself lend him strength. "I've just got to say that it's amazing to be here right now. The last time I came through here was a little over two years ago, when I stopped by to challenge your Gym Leader." He glanced over at Winona, who winked. "It was about a fortnight out from that year's Feather Carnival, but I had to move on to the next Gym in a bit of a hurry. I really regretted missing that opportunity, so of course I was excited to come along this year. I still have no idea what to expect, though, so I hope you'll help me out."

Ren paused for a moment, suddenly aware that his heart was pounding. A crowd of friendly humans in the mood for a party shouldn't have been scarier than a horde of Iehkti'na, but somehow they were. Even so, he was surprised with how well he was doing. He sneaked another look across at Winona, who nodded, seeming pleased. Whenever you're ready, she mouthed.

"Well, I for one can't wait for this thing to get started, so I suppose we should get underway," he said, a suggestion which was met with roars of approval from the crowd. "In that case, I, um, declare the Feather Carnival officially open!"

A blast of loud music from behind him almost caused Ren to lose his balance. Somehow, a large brass band had sneaked up onto the stage without him noticing, and now they started playing all at once, a lively showtune with a hefty beat that could be heard even over the noise that the crowd was making.

A multitude of screeches, squawks and chirps from overhead alerted him to the sudden presence of hundreds of Pokemon soaring back and forth across the square – startled by the noise or deliberately released at his unknowing cue, he wasn't sure. There were Flying-types of all shapes and sizes, winged Bug-types and even the uncommon sight of a Charizard soaring ponderously overhead. On the spur of the moment, he reached down to his belt and plucked two particular Poke Balls off it. He wasn't normally one for showmanship, but he figured he could make an exception just this once. Tossing the two Poke Balls high in the air, he shouted, "Fly!"

Yanmega and Braviary appeared in mid-air, leaving the Poke Balls to fall back to the ground, where Ren caught them and reattached them to his belt. The appearance of the Champion's Pokemon elicited a further cheer from the crowd as they spiralled upwards to join the multitude of Flying-types that already wheeled in the sky.

Leaving them to it as the crowd quickly dispersed to all corners of the square, Ren crossed back to Winona and handed her the microphone. "That was . . . not so bad, actually," he admitted.

"Easy?" she queried, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, it was," he said. "You win. It was still hard, though. If that even makes any sense."

"Ren, I've been the Gym Leader in this town for seven years now," Winona said seriously as she led him down off the stage. "When I first took up the position, I was really surprised by how much I had to do stuff like this – public appearances, taking challenges and all that. From what I gather, you're a lot more freaked out by it all than I was – and that's fair enough, because you're four years younger than I was when I became the Gym Leader – but if it makes you feel better, you're doing a far better job of it than I did. I saw you on Hoenn Buzz the other night, and I was just as impressed then as I was now."

"You mean that?" Ren asked curiously. "Because you know, ever since I started doing this thing a couple of days ago, it seems that it's just been one massive string of screw-ups. I sort of stumbled through the press conference after the Championship match, mumbled through Hoenn Buzz and fumbled my way through the class at the Academy in Rustboro. I just have no idea what I'm doing."

"That sort of thinking really isn't good for you, you know," Winona said disapprovingly. "I'm relieving you of your Champion duties for the rest of the day. Have fun, all right? I'm sure it's been hard these last few days, so just take today to unwind. Eat some hot dogs, play some games, win a few prizes and make some friends. Be . . . be a normal kid for a while, okay?"

Ren couldn't say anything for a moment. He didn't really know what to say. "You planned this, didn't you?" he said at length.

"Of course I did. I remember the day when you came through my Gym like it was yesterday. I wasn't sure then whether you'd make Champion, but I knew that if you did, you'd have a real hard time of it. Was I right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you were," Ren said.

"Okay, then. I'll hear no more against it. Do what you like for the day. Go along with Karl – he'll show you around the carnival. I'll see you back here just before dusk, but until then, you're free."

Karl shoved his way through the crowd to stand next to them, looking sulky once again. Ren frowned slightly, but simply made a note to ask the other boy about it later. "Come on, Champ," he said, seeming supremely unenthusiastic. "Let's go see the carnival."

Ren paused a moment before following Karl through the crowd. "Thanks, Winona," he said, a confusing mixture of gratitude and irritation bubbling within him. While on the one hand, he was definitely grateful for her understanding, he couldn't help but feel that she was patronising him a little bit. Deciding to take her at face value for the moment, he pushed his way through the crowd in the direction Karl had gone.

"Don't run off on me like that," he said when he caught up to the other boy, who was eyeing up a shooting game stall with evident interest.

"It's your fault for not being quick enough," Karl grumbled. "Here, let's have a go at this to start with."

"I don't think I'd be any good," Ren said uncertainly, looking worriedly at the toy rifles lined up across the front of the stall.

"Half a dozen shots on the house for the new Champion," suggested the jolly-looking fellow manning the stall. "And his friend too, if you like."

"Wicked!" Karl said eagerly. "Look at that, hanging out with you has its perks after all!" He stepped forward and picked up one of the toy guns, aiming it at the garishly coloured targets on the back wall of the stall.

Ren hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and picked one up himself, weighing it carefully in his hands. It felt strange to be holding a weapon, even one as garish and fake as this. He had only ever seen real guns in books, and he'd never been one for toy guns. Nevertheless, he hefted it gamely, standing behind a line drawn on the ground in front of the stall and sighting down the barrel.

His first shot flew high, the gun kicking unexpectedly in his hand. Readjusting his grip, he sent his second shot wide. His third went wider still, but his fourth flew relatively straight, cracking against the back wall of the stall between two of the targets.

"Holy crap, you suck," Karl laughed. "You plan on hitting something?"

"I wish," Ren said, frowning down the barrel. His fifth shot flew wide again, missing the stall entirely. His sixth narrowly missed the largest of the targets. "Oops. Well, thanks," he said, handing the gun back to the stall's proprietor.

"All right, move over and let a real man give it a go," Karl said, shouldering Ren out of the way as he stepped up to the mark.

Ren almost laughed at the serious look on Karl's face, but he thought better of it and remained silent. For at least ten seconds, nothing moved except the tip of Karl's toy rifle, wavering slightly up and down as he eyed up his target.

Suddenly, there was a series of sharp cracks as Karl fired all his pellets in quick succession. Five of the paper targets in the stall were knocked off their perch, and the last round narrowly missed a sixth.

"Good shooting," Ren said with some surprise.

Karl frowned. "I missed one. What do I win?"

The man running the stall blinked in apparent shock. "Five out of six gets you anything off the top shelf . . . except I haven't stacked the shelf yet. They're all still in the boxes round the back. I'll open them up for you."

"What sort of prizes do you get at things like these, anyway?" Ren asked Karl as the man bustled around behind the stall and dragged out a sizable crate.

"Stuffed Pokemon toys, usually," Karl said, sounding less than enthused.

"Not your thing?" Ren asked.

"Hardly."

In the end, Karl picked out a large plush Mightyena that, while impressive, looked much less fierce than Scar. Ren had to grin at the sight of the grouchy teenager wandering around the carnival with a three-foot-long stuffed toy under one arm.

Three hours passed quickly at the Feather Carnival. Many of the stall owners and salesmen recognised Ren and offered him free shots, throws or sweets. Ren soon discovered that he was absolutely terrible at all sorts of carnival games, although he picked up a good number of consolation prizes. By two o'clock, he was wearing a winged hat and a pair of aviator's gloves, his Pokenav had a colourful sleeve printed with Swellow, and his bag had half a dozen helium balloons of various colours and sizes attached to it.

Karl had refused to take part in most of the games since winning his Mightyena toy, which, Ren noticed, he still carried under one arm. He seemed to be enjoying the benefits of Ren's presence in scoring free food, though.

Hands full of hot chips, soda and candy floss, Ren nudged Karl with his elbow and indicated that they ought to sit down somewhere. They found their way through the festival-goers until they reached a small open area ringed with benches. In the centre, a tall, thin man was doing juggling tricks with his Scyther. Sitting down, Ren watched with interest as the Scyther batted several brightly coloured rubber balls into the air with the sides of its massive claws, keeping at least ten of them moving at once while its Trainer juggled a further six or so. Even as Ren watched, they began tossing them fluidly back and forward between each other, causing the small crowd sitting on the benches to clap enthusiastically.

"This is nice," Ren said. "I can't remember the last time I went to a carnival like this."

"They're not as common nowadays as they used to be, I hear," Karl said. "My mom always talks about the travelling fairs they had when she was a kid, but there just aren't any of them around. The Feather Carnival isn't the only one – there are a couple others – but it's the only one that comes around like clockwork every year. Only here in Fortree, though, of course."

"Why is that?" Ren asked. "I mean, I get that it's a special thing for people here, but I never really asked why. Something to do with all the bird Pokemon, I guess."

"Yeah, that's about it, actually," Karl said. "Folks here love Flying-type Pokemon. I mean, come on, they build their houses in trees just so they can live closer to them! Fortree and Flying-types have been real tight for hundreds of years. Every year, they hold this carnival to celebrate that relationship."

"You talk about it like an outsider," Ren said, craftily noting the opportunity to give Karl a gentle push. "You said you'd lived here for five years. How come?"

"What? A guy can't live where he wants?" Karl said, suddenly on the defensive.

"That's not what I mean," Ren said, wondering if he'd been too direct. He changed tack slightly, steering away from Karl's past a little. "If you're training to be a Gym Leader, wouldn't you want to be, you know, travelling around? Catching more Dark-types and battling all different kinds of Trainers?"

"Well . . . I have been doing both of those, sort of. I get the battling practice I need at Winona's Gym. I battle some of the Trainers who come in to challenge her. Some of them want a warm-up, others want the extra practice themselves. Some just want to show off. But they come from everywhere, and they have all kinds of different Pokemon."

"Don't you have to use Flying-types to be an apprentice at the Gym?" Ren asked, frowning.

"Normally, yeah, but Winona made an exception for me while I'm here. It was great of her to help me out like that, but don't you dare tell her I said that!"

"Sure, sure," Ren said, wondering again why Karl was so keen to give Winona the impression that he didn't like her. "But what about catching Pokemon?"

Karl sighed, leaning back on the bench and staring up at the treetops that surrounded the square. "I came here, to Fortree, when I was eleven," he said quietly. "I was doing just what you expected – travelling around and battling, training and trying to catch new Pokemon. I came here because I'd heard rumours of a certain rare, powerful Dark-type Pokemon that hung around in the forest around here. You know it?"

Ren nodded. Suddenly, a number of things began to make sense. "Absol, right?"

"The Disaster Pokemon," Karl recited. "Rumoured to sense impending disaster with its horn, it naturally became a target for collectors. The few small populations of Absol across the world withdrew into wild areas like the forests near Route 120, and they only emerge when great danger threatens. I've spent five years of my life trekking through those woods, trying to find one. I swore to myself I wouldn't leave until I caught one."

"You want one that badly?" Ren asked.

"Hell yes, I want one that badly," Karl said forcefully. "I'd be unstoppable with a Pokemon like that! And imagine the prestige that would come with owning one! They're unbelievably rare!"

Ren thought about this for a moment. "Are those . . . are those your reasons?" he asked seriously. "Because it doesn't sound like-"

"Look, spare me the lecture," Karl said, waving his hand dismissively. "I've heard it all from Winona, not to mention everybody else I told this to. I know what I want, and I know why I want it. That'll have to be good enough for you. Alright?"

"Fine," Ren said. "I won't criticise the way you do things. Arceus knows I get mad enough at people who complain about my methods, so it'd be unfair of me to do it to you."

"The hell?" Karl said. "Who criticised you? And what for?"

"Nothing major, really," Ren said. "That's the worst part, really. A while back, I met some people who really disagreed with how I battled. Not because they thought it was unethical or any of that crap, but . . . well, they were purists. They thought Pokemon battles should be 'instinctual and beautiful in their intransitiveness', I think it was. They didn't like how I took everything to pieces and analysed everything when I battled."

Karl gave him a skeptical look. "You're screwing with me, right? Nobody's that anal about battling."

"I'm afraid not," Ren said, his mouth twisting as he remembered. "I got into some trouble with a bunch of them a while back. After my loss at the Ever Grande Conference last year, but before I went back to compete again a month ago. It was . . . messy."

"Don't wanna talk about it?" Karl asked.

"Pretty much."

"Fair enough. Everyone's got stuff they don't want to talk about," Karl said pointedly.

Ren sighed. "Fine. I won't ask you about where you came from."

"Oh, I'm from Fallarbor. It's not where I came from that bothers me. It's why I left."

"Then all right," Ren said. "I won't mention it again. I wouldn't mind knowing why you don't want to talk about it, but finding that out would probably involve, you know . . ."

"Talking about it," Karl finished. He looked at Ren for a moment, then burst out laughing.

Dumbfounded, Ren watched him for a few seconds before joining in. It hadn't even been particularly funny, but in the sunlight and cheer, surrounded by people having fun and talking peacefully with someone who might be considered a friend, everything seemed magnified somehow.

"Hey," Karl said when he managed to calm down eventually. "I think they set up a haunted house down the west end of the square. Want to go check it out?"

"Sure," Ren said. "I've finished eating, so let's go." He stood up, applauding one more time for the juggler and his Scyther, who were just finishing up a turn, and stepped over the bench.

Karl swore, patting his belt as he stood. "What the hell? My Pokemon!"

"What? You lost them?" Ren said.

"I didn't lose them!" Karl growled; he scanned the area, one hand shading his eyes from the sun. "I keep them attached with powerful magnets, just like any sensible Trainer. They don't just fall off!"

"So someone stole them?" Ren said incredulously. "Do you have any idea who? How long have they been gone?"

"I don't damn well know, do I? I had them when I sat down just now," Karl said, clenching and unclenching his fists as he paced back and forth, glaring around at passers-by.

"If someone stole them, they're probably well away by now," Ren said, checking his own belt just in case. All six Poke Balls were present, though Yanmega and Braviary were still probably flying around somewhere. "We should go and tell Winona, at least."

"Winona? What the hell is she going to do?"

"More than you are right now, at any rate," Ren said decisively, grabbing the other boy's arm and pulling him towards the centre stage.

Even as they approached the stage, Ren saw Winona swooping down on her Skarmory with a small girl of about eight seated in front of her. He climbed up onto the stage, practically dragging Karl behind him, as the Gym Leader returned the girl to her parents.

"Oh, hello, Ren!" she said brightly when she spotted him. "Been having fun?"

"Well, yes, but not right now," he said urgently, stepping in close to talk in a low voice. "There's a thief about. Someone stole Karl's Pokemon!"

"What? Are you sure?" she asked, directing the question at Karl. She looked positively horror-stricken.

"Positive," Karl growled. "And when I find the son of a Bidoof that did it, I'm going to punch his face out the back of his skull."

"No, you aren't," Winona said sternly. "We're going to find whoever it is and we're going to hand him over to the police. Now, I might put an announcement over the PA, but that could panic people, which we don't want. For the meantime, I'll just get the apprentices from my Gym on it, as well as the police who are stationed around the carnival. They'll be able to keep an eye out for suspicious characters, though I don't know how obvious our thief will be."

"That's all we're going to do?" Karl asked.

"That's all we can do, Karl," Winona said firmly. "If we alert everyone here, not only will people panic, but the thief will know we're on to him and probably leave. Then we'll never find him. Is that what you want?"

"No," Karl said, rolling his neck restlessly. "But what are we going to do, then?"

"The thief might strike again today – you might not even have been his first target. The best thing we can do is be on high alert, watching for any suspicious activity."

"Couldn't we just go up to everybody and make them bring out all the Pokemon they have on them?" Karl said. "Then we'd be able to find who has my Sableye and Scar!"

"Remember what I said about not panicking people, Karl?" Winona said mildly. "Besides, do you really think the person who stole your Pokemon would walk around wearing them on his belt?"

"He might," Karl said, but Ren could tell he'd been stung. "For Arceus' sake, I just want to hit someone! Preferably the ass who took my Pokemon, but if we don't find him soon it'll have to be you, Champ."

"Me?" Ren yelped, stepping hastily away from Karl. "Easy on."

"None of that, Karl," Winona said, a slight edge creeping into her voice for the first time. "You two just keep wandering around the carnival for now. I think I have an idea . . ."

* * *​

"You seriously think this is a good idea, Ren?" Karl asked anxiously.

"Using me as bait? Of course it's a good idea," Ren said with false confidence. "It's no secret that the Champion is here today. To a thief like that, nobody's Pokemon are worth stealing more than mine. Winona's right – they probably just want to sell them, and I have some pretty rare – or powerful – Pokemon on me. If they're looking for a target, I'm pretty much the best one."

"But you were with me before when they stole mine," Karl said. "They'll expect you to be on guard."

"They will if I'm with you," Ren said. "If we went our separate ways before you noticed Sableye and Scar were gone, I still might not know. So tag out. Got somebody else I can wander around with?"

"Wouldn't you be an easier target on your own?" Karl asked.

"Hmm, that's true," Ren said. "You go back with Winona and I'll just wander around by myself, then. I'll call you if anything happens."

"I'm not giving you my Pokenav number," Karl said with a frown.

"Winona did, because she knew you'd be like that," Ren said, grinning back. "Now go on back," he said, talking over the other boy's protests. "I'll get your Pokemon back. I promise."

Karl hesitated. "Uh . . . thanks," he said.

"Every second you hang around me is a second the thief might see us and realise I know," Ren said. "Go on, scoot."

Karl looked like he was about to say something else, but he evidently thought better of it, turning to head in the opposite direction.

Ren headed towards the west side of the carnival.

Half an hour later, Ren still had all six of his Poke Balls. He wondered if he was being too obvious. He had, after all, been doing his level best to look vague and dreamy, wandering slowly through the temporary alleys of the carnival with his eyes on the sky, paying as little attention to people around him as he could. It was a surprisingly difficult act to keep up, for every instinct he had was telling him he was a target. Does that mean it's working?

Subtly, he glanced down at his belt. Six Poke Balls. He stopped for a moment to chat to a friendly stall owner he'd met earlier, complimenting the man on the Kecleon that he was using as an attraction. The Pokemon changed colour repeatedly as its owner held up different-coloured slides behind it, its skin seeming to fizzle slightly as the pigments morphed. Ren stayed at the stall for a good five minutes, genuinely interested in the unusual Pokemon. More than that, though, he wanted to give any potential thief another opportunity to try and sneak up on him. He had remembered that the thief had taken Karl's Pokemon while the target was sitting down, distracted by something else. He kept one eye on his belt, but all six of his Poke Balls remained where they were.

Deciding that staying at the stall any longer would be suspicious, Ren turned to leave. Preoccupied with his dilemma, however, he crashed into a blonde girl who had been walking up behind him.

"Ow! Watch it!" she said sharply.

"Sorry!" he said hastily, ducking quickly around her and moving on. Well, that was embarrassing. I guess there's a limit on vagueness.

He sneaked another quick glance at his belt and almost shouted out loud. Four of his Poke Balls were missing, leaving him with just the two that were attached to his right hip. That girl! He cursed his idiocy. She had to have stolen them when he'd bumped into her just seconds ago. He'd fallen for the oldest trick in the pickpocket's book.

Ren spun around and dashed back towards the stall with the Kecleon, all pretense of ignorance abandoned. The girl was gone. "Did any of you see that girl that was just here?" he asked the people clustered around the colour-shifting Normal-type. "Blonde, quite tall . . ."

Most of them shook their heads or just looked puzzled, but one man pointed east, back towards the centre of the carnival. Ren thanked him quickly before sprinting back towards the centre stage, scanning the crowd for the girl. The carnival whirled colourfully around him, and he swore silently as he realised that it would be almost impossible to find one person in the chaos. He covered the rest of the distance to the stage quickly.

Winona spotted him from her position on the stage and she hurried over, looking concerned. When she saw the empty slots on his belt, she paled slightly. "They took the bait?"

"Yes, but I couldn't catch her. I did see her face, though."

"You're sure? You know who it was?"

"She bumped into me, and a few seconds later I noticed they were gone. A hundred to one it was her who took them."

Winona nodded, still looking slightly flustered. "All right. What did she look like?"

"She was blonde, about this tall," he said, holding one hand a few inches above his own head. "Maybe eighteen or nineteen. She was wearing a red top and a black skirt, and I think she might have had a backpack."

"All right, I'll pass that on to the police. They'll find her. You just wait here with me."

"What? I'm not just going to sit here!" Ren protested. "If nothing else, I promised Karl I'd get his Pokemon back!"

"I understand you want to help, Ren, but the police are professionally equipped and trained to deal with this sort of thing. You'll just-"

"What? Get in the way? I doubt it. I'm the only one who's seen her face, remember. Even if they have a description, I'm still going to recognise her better than anyone."

Winona sighed. "All right, Ren. Do what you like. Just be careful, okay? I'm going to call the police in now. They've got people all around the carnival in case of emergency."

"Thanks," Ren said, dashing off before she could say anything else. He didn't know what he was doing or where he was going, but he wasn't going to sit around while other people chased the person who'd stolen his Poke Balls.

He looped around the carnival in a wide arc, wondering whether the girl had even stuck around. Two Pokemon of Karl's and four that belonged to the Champion would be a good haul, he suspected – even discounting anything else she might have stolen. If the girl had any sense, she'd leave.

Then again, the Feather Carnival was a massive event and very few people left before it was over. There was to be a synchronised flying performance and a fireworks display after dusk, he had heard. Hardly anybody would be wandering around the rest of Fortree. Most of the population of the city – remarkably small despite its geographical spread – would be concentrated in the square. He reflected briefly on how ironic the name of the carnival's location was, given that it wasn't even vaguely square-shaped, never mind being the size of half a dozen football pitches.

No time to get distracted, he told himself as he moved quickly through the south section of the carnival. If I were the thief, what would I do? He would take his chances lying low among the festival-goers, he decided. Leaving the carnival would make him stand out too much, and the police would be watching for people leaving early. No, he would keep his head down among the crowds and slip out when they did, and under cover of darkness no less.

So the girl was most likely still around, he reasoned. He just had to find her.

Half an hour later, he was beginning to tire of wandering aimlessly through the crowds in the hope of finding one person. He had made his way over to the west quarter again, but the mysterious thief was still nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, he noticed a disturbance nearby. Several people were shouting, and the crowd was milling around in a slightly more confused manner than elsewhere. Ren sprinted towards the source of the the ruckus. He pushed his way through the crowd until he reached a roughly oval-shaped space that had been vacated by the mass of people that otherwise occupied every square inch of the square.

Three people stood in the open space: two policemen and the girl who had stolen Ren's Poke Balls. The girl stood in the middle, glancing back and forth at the policemen who were advancing slowly on her from either side. The crowd was thick; there would be no escape.

Ren sighed as the two policemen each sent out a Growlithe. He had kind of wanted to catch the girl himself, but it was good that she had been caught nonetheless. She was wearing a backpack, he noticed, which would be where she was carrying the stolen Pokemon.

As the two Growlithe prowled towards the girl, however, something inky black flashed across Ren's vision, moving at an incredible speed. The Growlithe nearest to him howled as sharp claws raked across its muzzle, drawing blood which dripped to the ground below it.

The Pokemon that had made the attack came to a halt and faced off against the other Growlithe. It was a Sneasel, Ren saw – a Pokemon native to the Johto and Sinnoh regions, with a stubby, vaguely humanoid body and large, wicked-looking claws.

The girl smiled as both policemen backed up a little. It was a cold smile that sent a shiver down Ren's spine. The girl was eerily beautiful, he noticed absently. Her face was narrow and soft-looking, and her blonde hair was straight and long. Her eyes, though, were as hard as steel.

Sneasel swiped at the nearest members of the crowd, who stumbled backward in their haste to get out of range of the Pokemon's wicked claws. The Dark-type stepped forward and swung again, causing people to move back even further.

The girl's smile grew even wider as she followed her Pokemon, though Ren noticed she kept a weather eye on the policemen, who were warily moving after her.

For a brief moment, the crowd shifted even further out of the reach of Sneasel. A gap opened, and the girl and her Pokemon bolted.

Cursing, Ren tore after her, dashing past the policemen and through the opening that the girl had just used. He could see her some way ahead of him, jinking back and forward as she ran through the crowd. He followed quickly.

She was making a run for it, he realised as he followed her. Her cover blown, she was heading straight for the edge of the square, where she could disappear between the trees of Fortree City. He was gaining on her slightly, but he didn't think it would be enough to catch her before she left the carnival.

Sure enough, the girl reached the edge of the square while he was still twenty metres or so behind her. She slipped past a pair of police officers and out along the road that led west. Ren followed hot on her heels, though he wasn't confident he could catch her. Behind him, he dimly registered the police officers starting to follow, but he and the girl were already well past.

Shortly after leaving the carnival grounds, the girl left the main road, veering off towards the south. She must have recalled Sneasel at some point, he noticed. Ren followed her, realising that he was gaining ground again. He was no athlete, but five years of travelling around the Hoenn region and overseas – largely on foot – had left him more than moderately fit.

He could hear running water, he realised suddenly. They were approaching the Fortree River, then. What was she planning?

The river came suddenly into view as he topped a gentle swell in the forest floor, the thief still some metres ahead of him. She headed directly for the sturdily-built log bridge that crossed the river, shrugging her bag off as she ran. Ren followed with growing worry as she rummaged within it. Whatever she was doing in the bag slowed her down, so Ren almost caught up with her. He was within ten metres of her when she hit the bridge.

The girl swung her arm high as he ran onto the bridge, two Poke Balls flying back at an angle that would send them towards the riverbank – or maybe even into the river. A distraction. Clever. "Braviary!" he shouted, not letting up his pursuit of the girl.

With a mighty screech, Ren's proud Flying-type burst down through the canopy, where he had been flying silently, waiting to be called upon. He swooped down in a swift arc, snatching the two Poke Balls out of the air and pulling up again to follow Ren and the girl onto the bridge.

The girl stopped, whirling around to face Ren with an ugly snarl on her pretty face. Before he could get any closer, however, she thrust an arm out over the river, another Poke Ball in her hand. Ren stopped short, eyeing the Poke Ball warily.

"Braviary," he said quietly after a few seconds of silence. "The Poke Balls, please."

Swooping overhead, Braviary dropped the spheres before perching on the handrail on the other side of the bridge. Ren caught the Poke Balls and pressed the release switches on them. Scar the Mightyena and Sableye appeared before him, looking confused. "Good to know you two are all right," he said, clipping their Poke Balls to two of the empty slots on his belt.

"You're going to let me go," the girl said suddenly. Her voice was quiet, but sharp as a knife. "If you, or any of these Pokemon, move an inch, one of your Pokemon goes over the side. Your Braviary's quick, but not quick enough to catch it this time. The current runs quickly here, and you'll probably never see the Pokemon inside again. They'll get waterlogged and sink somewhere between here and the ocean, but where, I have no idea. I've got the other three right here, and they'll go the way of the first quickly enough."

Ren bit his lip thoughtfully. "But if I let you go, I'll probably never see my Pokemon again either," he said, forcing his voice to remain level.

"True," the girl admitted. "But at least you'll know they're alive."

Ren glanced over the side of the bridge. The current was swift, the bridge naturally having been built over the narrowest part of the river. There were rapids a way downstream, too; he could hear them, but they were out of sight. She was right, he realised. Something as small as a Poke Ball would be lost forever if it went over the side.

"What's your answer, Champion?" she asked mockingly, placing a derisive emphasis on the last word. "Will you watch your Pokemon die, or watch them leave you forever?"
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
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Chapter Twenty-Five - Wings Have We

A/N: Thanks to Giratina for subconsciously inspiring this chapter title. ^_^;;;

Chapter Twenty-Five
Wings Have We

Ren smiled, spreading his arms generously. "Go ahead," he said. "Toss them over. See if I care."

A flicker of confusion crossed the girl's face. Her eyes were startlingly blue, he noticed. They were quite pretty, really. "Oh, I see. You're calling my bluff. I really will do it!" she said, waving the hand with Ren's Poke Ball in it to emphasise her point.

"Okay," Ren said, shrugging his backpack off his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "I told you I'd drop it if you moved!"

"Then drop it. Drop them all," Ren said, fiddling with the zip.

Frowning, the girl opened her hand, letting the Poke Ball in it drop. It fell towards the river, turning slowly in midair until it hit the water with a splash, disappearing momentarily before it bobbed up again a few feet downstream.

Ren watched it go idly, then shrugged and went back to digging through his bag.

"Aren't . . . aren't you bothered?" the girl asked, faltering.

"Why should I be?" Ren asked, finding what he was looking for. "I mean, that was a perfectly nice Poke Ball. Cost me a couple of bucks. But I wasn't that attached to it."

She just glared at him. Her blinking had sped up slightly, he noticed. She was confused. Uncertain.

"You know," he said casually, thumbing the release switch on the Poke Ball he had just pulled out of his bag, "you should really check what you have before you try bargaining with it." Camerupt appeared on the bridge behind the girl, snorting threateningly. Ren pressed three more switches, sending out Zangoose, Solrock and Manectric. Braviary squawked happily as Yanmega buzzed out from behind a tree on the bank and landed on Camerupt's back.

The girl's face fell as she looked at the Pokemon surrounding her, then at the three Poke Balls in her hands, and then back again. She pressed the release switches with fumbling fingers, but the Poke Balls sprung open to reveal only air. "Wh-when?" she spluttered, dropping them. "H-how did you switch them?"

"I switched them after Karl and I talked to Winona," he said, grinning slightly despite the seriousness of the situation. "You never had my Pokemon. You just stole four empty Poke Balls off my belt. Are you proud of yourself?"

The girl gave him a poisonous glare, but Ren laughed it off. "You could learn a thing or two about dirty looks from a friend of mine," he said, remembering Elly's cold green eyes with a slight shiver.

"You . . . you piss me off, Ren Goodwin," the girl said, shaking her head as she brushed a loose strand of hair out of her perfect face.

"I seem to be doing that to girls a lot recently," he reflected bitterly. "And that reminds me. You evidently know who I am, but who are you?"

The girl laughed. It sounded genuine, although she was still glaring. "Like I'd tell you my name, Champion."

"Well, unless you want me to call you Annoying Thief Girl, I'd suggest you tell me."

"What does it matter? You're never going to see me again," she said.

Ren could hear shouts from the road behind him. "Manectric, go and fetch the police, would you?" Manectric yipped and dashed away. "I imagine they'll want a word with you," he said.

"Too bad they're not getting one," she said.

"Really?" Ren said, raising an eyebrow. "Not to sound cocky or anything, but we kind of have you surrounded."

"You're a funny one, Champion," she said with a smile. "I'll catch you some other time." With that, she vaulted over the side of the bridge.

Ren's eyes widened as he leaned over the edge to see where she'd gone. The swift-flowing river carried her quickly downstream, but she was a strong swimmer and before long she had reached the far bank. She clambered out of the river and climbed, sure-footed, up the bank.

"Braviary!" Ren said sharply as he set off running. He knew there wasn't much chance of catching up to her, but Braviary might be able to.

Braviary took off from the railing with a screech, winging his way towards where the girl was fast disappearing into the trees once again.

Ren reached the end of the bridge and turned left, heading along the road towards the girl, who he could just barely see on the road some way in front of him. He saw Braviary swoop down in front of her, but there was a flash of red light and her Sneasel appeared again, leaping off her shoulder and onto Braviary's back. The Flying-type screeched and tried to throw it off, but it hung on grimly. The girl ran past, and Braviary wheeled off, screeching in pain and frustration as its passenger did its level best to slice at his head while hanging on.

"Damn it all," Ren muttered, speeding up a little more. He had all but run out of energy during the first chase, and now he was flagging. He doubted he could catch up to the girl a second time.

As it turned out, he was to be denied the opportunity. A loud noise behind him made him look back – just in time to throw himself out of the way as a bright red sports car came haring down the road towards him. It blasted by in a cloud of dust, screeching to a halt just ahead of the girl. She dived through a door that popped open in front of her, recalling her Sneasel from Braviary's back as she did so. Tires spinning, the car shot off again, leaving Ren coughing from the dust behind it.

"Damn, damn, damn," he said, standing up and walking over to where Braviary had perched on a low tree branch after the Sneasel had been returned to its Poke Ball. He at least seemed unhurt. "Sorry, buddy," Ren said, stroking Braviary's proud plumage apologetically. "You did well."

Braviary chirruped softly, bumping its large, plumed head against Ren's hand as Zangoose and Yanmega caught up to them, Solrock and Camerupt bringing up the rear with Karl's Pokemon. "You all did well," he said as they gathered around him. "Scar, Sableye. Are you two all right?"

Karl's Dark-types appeared unhurt, so Ren took the opportunity to return them to their Poke Balls. As he returned his own Pokemon as well, a police car pulled up next to him, lights flashing. The door opened and one of the officers that had cornered the girl at the carnival stepped out.

"Mr Goodwin," the policeman said. "I'm glad you're all right. What happened to the thief?"

"She got away," Ren said. "I'm sorry. A car came along and picked her up."

"What kind of car?" the policeman asked, pulling out a notebook.

"Bright red," Ren said. "Some kind of sports car. No spoiler on the back. I couldn't see the logo or license plate, sorry."

"Well, there can't be that many bright red sports cars in Fortree," the policeman said, jotting down a few notes. "We'll keep an eye out, but I imagine they'll be out of town before too long. Could be anywhere from Lilycove to Mauville by tonight. What did she get away with?"

"Nothing, as far as I know," Ren said, grinning slightly. "I got back the Pokemon she stole off my friend, so unless she took someone else's too, she got nothing."

"We haven't had any other reports of theft," the policeman told him, flipping over a couple of pages on his notepad. "What about your Pokemon, though?"

"I had them the whole time," Ren said, quickly outlining how he'd tricked her into stealing his empty Poke Balls.

The policeman chuckled. "Good work, kid," he said. "You'd make a good cop someday. Anyway, we're going to do a quick loop around the city now. See if we can't spot this red sports car of yours. You should go on back to the carnival and give your friend his Pokemon back."

"All right, officer," Ren said with a nod as the policeman got back into the car, which promptly sped off east. He headed back towards the bridge, meeting Manectric and the officers it had fetched on the way. Ren briefly summarised the situation for them as he returned Manectric to its Poke Ball with a slight sigh of relief. Even though he had known where his Pokemon were the whole time, he only really felt safe with all six of them on his belt.

Returning to the carnival, Ren pulled out his Pokenav and called Karl, who answered immediately.

"Ren? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, I got Scar and Sableye back."

Karl's sigh of relief came down the phone as a rush of static. "Thank Arceus," he said. "Do I get to punch the person who nicked them now?"

"No, she got away," Ren said. "Sorry about that. The police are looking for her, though."

Karl swore loudly and colourfully. "I'm going to kill that bi- ow! Okay, okay! Sorry! I'm sorry!"

Ren frowned. "Karl?"

A different voice answered. "Hi, Ren, this is Winona. Well done on recovering the stolen Pokemon."

"Do I want to know what you did to Karl?" Ren asked.

"That was Skarmory, actually," she said innocently. "In lieu of washing his mouth out with soap, I've had Skarmory nipping at his ear every time he swears like that. He's not nearly as bad now as he was five years ago. Anyway, come on back to the stage. Karl will want his Pokemon back, and I've got someone here who wants to meet you."

"What? Who is it now?" Ren asked, but the line had already gone silent. Sighing, he began the walk back towards the carnival.

Ren allowed a slight flush of pride to run through him as he passed through the crowd. Although the girl had got away from him, he was quite pleased with how he'd managed to trick her. Of course, he would have had to be entirely foolish to actually let her steal his Pokemon in the first place, but . . . that look on her face was priceless, he reflected. Pity she got away.

As he approached the stage, Karl came charging out towards him, shouldering people aside in his rush. Chuckling slightly, Ren held out Karl's two Poke Balls.

The black-haired boy snatched them off him and pressed the release switches. When Scar and Sableye materialised in front of him, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, sinking down to sit on the ground as if the air rushing out had deflated him. Scar nosed him reassuringly, and Sableye scampered up onto his knee and patted him on the head.

Ren smiled, only able to guess how Karl had been feeling. He couldn't imagine losing any of his Pokemon for even a minute; even though he'd switched their Poke Balls for empty ones, he had felt his heart drop through his stomach when he'd noticed their absence.

"Thank you, Ren," Karl said tightly, standing up again and clasping his hand, all pretenses of standoffishness gone.

Ren could tell that Karl was trying not to cry, so he simply clapped him on the shoulder and moved on towards the stage, leaving the other boy together with his Pokemon.

Winona was waiting for him beside the stage with a young, redheaded woman who looked vaguely familiar. "I'm impressed, Ren," Winona said. "That was well done. Still . . . it's good that you managed to get Karl's Pokemon back, but that could have been dangerous. Be more careful next time, okay?"

Ren nodded. "All right. Uh . . . is this the person you wanted to meet?"

"That's me!" said the redhead brightly, stepping forward and putting her face right up next to Ren's, looking him in the eyes. He tried to pull back, but she grabbed him by the shoulders and held him still.

"Uh . . ." he said awkwardly.

"Yes!" she said, letting him go and skipping backwards again. "Elesa told me about you. We were watching the Ever Grande Conference on TV last month, and she said 'Hey, I know that kid! He won the Bolt Badge off me a while back!'."

"Uh . . ." Ren said again, trying to make sense of the bubbly young woman in front of him. Elesa . . . the Bolt Badge . . . the Feather Carnival. "Skyla?" he said, frowning slightly.

She grinned widely, throwing him an aviator's salute with two fingers. "That's me! Mistralton City's Gym Leader, at your service! I came for the Feather Carnival, but the weather in Unova was terrible when I left yesterday, so I'm late. I hear you've all been having fun without me!"

"I wouldn't call it 'fun', Skyla," Winona said with a note of disapproval in her voice. "One of my apprentices had his Pokemon stolen."

"But Ren got them back, didn't he?" Skyla said. "All's well that ends well. Speaking of that, was that your Braviary I saw flying around earlier?"

"Ah, yes, it would be," Ren said. "I don't think anybody else here has one."

"He's a fine specimen," Skyla said. "Young, too. He's going to get even bigger. Did you catch him when you were in Unova? About the same time you beat Elesa? Well done on that, by the way. She doesn't go down easy."

"Er," Ren said. "Yes, I caught him as a Rufflet when I was in Unova . . . not quite three years ago. I was twelve."

"What possessed you to go running off overseas anyway? Unova Badges wouldn't do you any good for the Hoenn League."

"I . . . I hit a snag. With Brawly and the Knuckle Badge. I needed to . . . get away from it all for a while, so I went to Unova, watched the Conference, challenged a few Gyms and then came back here."

"How many Unova Badges did you get in the end?" Skyla asked, looking thoughtful.

"Three: the Basic Badge from Lenora, the Trio Badge from Chili, and the Bolt Badge from Elesa."

"How would you like the opportunity to earn another one?" Skyla asked with a glint in her eye.

"You mean . . ." Ren blinked, not entirely following.

"The Jet Badge, sport. You want it?"

"Don't I have to, you know . . . challenge you at the Mistralton Gym?" he asked.

"Eh, not really. I think you've earned the right to battle me for it. Winona's freed the main stage up for us. You in or not?"

Ren blinked. Today was certainly shaping up to be an extraordinarily eventful day.

Fifteen minutes later, he found himself standing at one side of the main stage. Skyla stood at the other end, a lively breeze tugging at her red hair. Winona stood between the two of them, ready to act as adjudicator.

A sizable crowd had gathered, despite the unscheduled nature of the event. The Hoenn Champion battling a Gym Leader from the distant Unova region was sure to draw attention.

Ren himself wasn't sure how the battle would turn out. He was expected to win, of course. In a match between a Champion and a Gym Leader, the Champion should come out on top every time. This was different to his battle with Roxanne two days ago, though. There had been nobody watching that one, nobody to bear witness if he lost. Here, there were hundreds of people watching already, with more trickling in every second. If Ren was defeated . . . he shuddered to think of the consequences.

"This battle will be a three on three," Winona declared. "The challenger, Ren, will be allowed to switch Pokemon at will, but Skyla must keep each Pokemon in until it is declared unable to battle. The battle is over when all three of one Trainer's Pokemon are judged to be unable to battle. Any questions, Trainers?"

Ren shook his head, feeling slightly nervous. Skyla evidently had no problems either, for she snatched a Poke Ball from her belt and held it at the ready. She looked to be genuinely enjoying herself.

Ren glanced down at his belt. Manectric was the obvious choice for this battle, but would it be best to save it for last or to send it out first in hope of a quick win? If I recall rightly, Skyla's strongest Pokemon is Swanna, some kind of Water/Flying type mix. She probably won't send that out first, though, so I might be safe with Camerupt. But the battlefield is wooden, and there are no rocks around to use for a Rock Slide attack, so there goes that option. I'd better play it a little safer. I'll hold Manectric in reserve for now. Taking a deep breath, he plucked Solrock's Poke Ball from his belt and held it out in front of him. "I'm ready," he said.

"In that case," Winona said, "let the battle for the Jet Badge begin!"

The familiar crack of an opening Poke Ball was almost drowned out by the enthused roar of the crowd. Ren and Solrock found themselves facing off against a Pokemon Ren had never seen in person before. A large blue creature flapped in place in front of Skyla. It had a pink, heart-shaped nose and a white ruff around its neck. Personally, Ren thought it looked like the mutant offspring of an Eevee and a Golbat, but he didn't say anything. He had seen Swoobat in books and magazines before. They were endemic to the Unova region, so he hadn't had any experience battling them before. He did remember that they possessed dangerous Psychic-type abilities.

"Fire Spin!" he ordered quickly. The emphasis of this battle would be on speed, most likely. Solrock thrummed happily, conjuring a blazing pillar of fire around its opponent. Ren blinked slightly as the heat wave hit him, but forced himself to watch the centre of the blazing maelstrom carefully as the crowd murmured appreciatively. He wasn't here to put on a show, but there was no harm in being a little flashy.

The pillar of fire bulged in the middle and exploded, tongues of fire vanishing almost instantly as visible waves of psychic energy radiated from Swoobat. Skyla gave an order, pointing directly at Solrock, and Swoobat's pulses of energy became more focused, blasting towards Solrock.

"Counter it!" Ren said, his voice urgent. Solrock hummed and glowed purple, sending its own waves of power back toward Swoobat. The two forces crashed into each other with a boom that sent ripples of wind across the stage, spawning from the contact point and blasting away at anything nearby. Ren saw the wind snap a string of coloured bunting at the edge of the stage, sending one end flying loosely into the crowd.

The two Pokemon continued their efforts, rippling waves of mental energy pushing back and forth in the centre of the stage. Neither of them seemed to be able to get any leverage over the other, Solrock's purple energy and Swoobat's pink crashing into each other with the force of a thousand hammer blows.

"Dammit," Ren muttered. Getting caught in a deadlock was never good. He had to do something to break it, but what? Solrock's Rock Slide attack was out, thanks to the terrain. Fire Spin would just be destroyed by the Psychic waves, and SolarBeam would take far too long to charge up. But he couldn't switch Solrock out, either; that could cause Swoobat's Psychic attack to hit him instead. The only thing left to try was . . . "Spin! Keep up the Psychic attack for just a little longer!" he ordered. It was risky, especially considering that this was a technique they had only developed recently, but it was the only thing he could do.

Solrock began to rotate in midair, spinning like a wheel and drawing threads of Psychic power with it. As its speed increased, more and more of its Psychic energy became caught up in its motion, forming a concentrated disc of energy that enveloped it entirely. Swoobat's attacks bounced ineffectually off the wall of purple light, but they were still at a deadlock.

"Turn and go straight through!" Ren said. Solrock's wheel turned slowly until its edge pointed directly at Swoobat, scything easily through the oncoming attack and sending its remnants flying off to either side. "Go!" Ren shouted, and Solrock rolled forward like a circular saw, cutting through the air towards Swoobat with almost effortless ease.

Swoobat saw it coming and jinked out of the way, but Solrock's wheel turned far more quickly than Ren would have thought possible, slamming into the Flying-type with enormous force and sending it flying. It had the fortunate side-effect of breaking Swoobat's concentration, which meant that the Psychic waves stopped.

"Follow it up!" Ren commanded. "Grab it!" Solrock righted itself, causing its Psychic disc to dissipate. It wasted no time, however, in pressing its advantage, seizing the confused Swoobat with its Psychic attack and lifting it high into the air. Seeming to read Ren's mind before he could even speak, Solrock smashed its opponent down against the wooden stage with a sickening thud before lifting it again and bringing it back down a second time, then a third. When the purple nimbus around Swoobat vanished, it was clearly unconscious, lying motionless on the floor.

Winona rushed over to check Skyla's Pokemon. When she straightened up, she lifted one hand towards Ren's end of the stage. "Swoobat is unable to battle! Ren's Solrock is the winner!"

After returning Swoobat to its Poke Ball, Skyla paused a moment. "You're better than I thought, Champion," she called. "Elesa said you were good, but I didn't realise you were this good."

Ren wasn't sure quite what he should say to that, so he simply nodded, accepting the compliment. He didn't want to give away how close the previous round had been. Despite how short it had been, the battle had been extraordinarily tight. If Solrock hadn't been able to pull off its spinning manoeuvre correctly, Skyla and Woobat would have seized the opening just as he had.

The crowd was cheering, he realised dimly. They were floating somewhere on the edge of his consciousness, being largely unimportant to the battle, but he could hear them – as if from the other end of a very long tunnel. He blinked hard, forcing himself back to earth. He looked around, taking in the sight of the hundreds of people clustered around the stage. There was something special about it, he realised. This was all new. Until the Ever Grande Conference, he had become accustomed to battling without an audience.

"Wake up, Ren!" Skyla called good-naturedly from the other end of the stage.

Ren blinked. Right. Concentrate. Don't get distracted. "I'm awake!" he replied. "Are you going to choose your second Pokemon."

"Of course! It has to be Swanna at a time like this!" she said with a confident grin, sending out her star player.

Okay, massive type disadvantage there with Water. Do I switch? No, best to see how much damage I can do before Solrock goes down. "Psychic!" he shouted. "And start charging while you're at it." He was hoping to get at least one SolarBeam off, as Swanna's Water typing would make it at least partially vulnerable.

"Hydro Pump!" Skyla ordered. Swanna flexed its graceful white neck and opened its beak. Before Solrock could react, a high-pressure jet of water blasted towards it, slamming it backwards in the air several feet.

"Solrock!" Ren cried. It wasn't as if he hadn't been expecting a powerful Water-type move, but Swanna's speed had taken him aback.

When the jet of water stopped, Solrock was hovering awkwardly in the air. Even as Ren watched, it sank slowly to the ground, unable to remain airborne. It came to rest on the wooden stage with a clunk before toppling over completely, rolling slightly from side to side on its rounded back.

A single attack? Ren thought uncomprehendingly as Winona declared Solrock out for the count. Just how monstrously strong is this thing? Even with the type disadvantage, Solrock should have been able to take that hit.

All right. Skyla's played her trump card; it's time to bring out mine.
 

Misheard Whisper

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Chapter Twenty-Six - Every Clap of Thunder

Chapter Twenty-Six
Every Clap of Thunder

Ren sent Manectric out; it was a bit of a gamble, but it was his best choice for dealing with Swanna. The double type advantage ought to make for a swift battle, though he knew he had to be careful.

Manectric howled eagerly to the sky, fur bristling with static electricity. The weather would work against them, Ren noted. Manectric was in its element when it was raining, as the charged clouds acted as a secondary source of power to feed its electric attacks. There wasn't a cloud in the sky over Fortree, however, so he would have to make do with what he had.

"Start off with a Thunderbolt," Ren said, making himself remain calm. He had the advantage, but losing his cool would nullify that.

Howling aggressively, Manectric charged up its electricity, a crackling aura of yellow energy building up around its body. With a final growl, it launched a sizzling stream of lightning towards its opponent.

Swanna took to the sky, leaping out of the way as Manectric's Thunderbolt attack zapped past.

"Again!" Ren said, causing Manectric to loose another bolt of lightning towards Swanna. Swanna was too fast for it, however, banking out of the way. We're never going to win from this distance, he thought. But Skyla has an advantage with Swanna's mobility. And why isn't she attacking? She must be sounding Manectric out, trying to work out how to deal with it. That means she's worried about it, which means I have a chance if I can figure this out quickly. Now what other moves might Swanna have?

Swanna dived straight towards Manectric, its graceful neck straight as an arrow. Skyla must have given some signal that he'd missed; he'd have to watch out for that in the future. Is that an Aerial Ace attack?

"Get out of the way, Manectric!" he ordered. It was too late. Swanna seemed to blur, its outline becoming indistinct, and a split second later, it disappeared from view entirely, crashing into Manectric as if it had been teleported and sending the Electric-type flying. Ren knew, however, that it had simply moved so quickly that it had disappeared from view. He remembered Winona using the same move in his battle against her to devastating effect. How did I beat her then?

The obvious way. "Manectric," he said thoughtfully. "Do you remember when you were training with Zangoose in the quarry the other day? I want you to apply that here next time she tries that, okay?" Manectric barked assent, keeping its eyes fixed on Swanna. "Good. For now, let's go with Thunderbolt again. See if you can't get a little closer this time."

Crackling with electric power, Manectric bounded forwards, towards where Swanna was holding its position in midair. With a howl, it threw itself upwards, taking the Flying-type by surprise as it launched its attack. Despite its apparent confusion, however, Swanna was still able to avoid Manectric's attack, rolling out of the way in midair and swooping away. "Push that advantage, Manectric!" Draw out that Aerial Ace again!

Manectric leapt and ran, throwing lightning bolts around the stage with gay abandon. Some came close to hitting Swanna, but Skyla's Pokemon managed to jink out of the way at the last second every time. Soon, that Aerial Ace will come again. Then we should be able to do it.

Suddenly, Swanna swerved in midair, aiming straight for Manectric. Here it comes! As Swanna dived, Manectric leapt forward, jaws bared and crackling with electricity. Even as Swanna shimmered and disappeared momentarily, Manectric brought its teeth crashing together.

The timing was perfect. Manectric bit down on Swanna's wing just as its attack made contact, sparks of electric current leaping and flowing all through the bodies of both Pokemon. Swanna cried out in pain as Manectric's teeth let go. "Thunderbolt!" Ren yelled. Manectric obliged happily, sending thousands of volts of energy pouring into Swanna with a victorious howl. Unable to move out of the way quickly enough, Swanna took the full force of the attack.

When Manectric stopped its assault to recharge, Swanna was weaving awkwardly in the air, seeming rather frazzled. Ren was surprised that it hadn't been entirely taken out by the attack, but he knew that Manectric couldn't lose now. "One more Thunderbolt!" he ordered. Throwing its head back, Manectric howled joyfully and blasted another bolt of lightning at Swanna.

"Dodge it!" Skyla cried, and to Ren's utter astonishment, Swanna dived out of the way of the lightning bolt, ducking and weaving away from the attacks that Manectric fired in follow-up.

Ren gritted his teeth in frustration. Somehow, they were back to square one, and he hardly thought Skyla was going to risk using Aerial Ace again now that she knew what Manectric was capable of.

"Swanna, use Gust! Make it fly!"

Ren felt the wind whip up around him, growing quickly more powerful until he had to put his arm in front of his eyes to protect them from the dust and splinters being tossed around the stage. He squinted awkwardly over his arm to see Manectric being lifted into the sky amidst a maelstrom of dusty wind. Manectric yelped helplessly as its paws paddled wildly in the air, firing off Thunderbolts that went wild.

Even as Ren watched, trying to work out what to do, Swanna flapped its wings harder still, increasing the speed and power of the winds that surrounded its opponent. Manectric flew higher and higher, tumbling end over end until Swanna suddenly stopped, folding its wings calmly back. The winds dissipated and Manectric fell like a stone from at least thirty metres up.

Ren watched with apprehension as Manectric fell towards the stage, breathing a sigh of relief when it landed back on its feet with barely a thump. He had one option left. Skyla wouldn't be foolish enough to try and get in close again, and Gust seemed to have no particular effect apart from temporary incapacitation. That meant that the powerful Hydro Pump was likely her only remaining option. If Swanna knew a move that would do better, surely she would have used it already.

Sure enough, Skyla – practically bouncing with excitement, Ren noted with some confusion – called, "Swanna! Finish it up with a Hydro Pump!"

As Swanna lifted its head in preparation to launch its attack, Ren struck. "Manectric, Thunderbolt!" As soon as the jet of high-powered water left Swanna's beak, Manectric loosed a bolt of lightning that struck Swanna's attack head on. Rather than diverting it, however, the electricity raced along the stream of water, heading directly for Swanna. Ren had counted on the conducive properties of water to ensure the attack hit its target, and he had not been wrong. Swanna shrieked as the electricity tore through its body, its Hydro Pump faltering. It kept up the attack, however, blasting Manectric for as long as it remained conscious. Eventually, however, the continuous stream of electricity took its toll, and Swanna crumpled to the ground, a limp, motionless bundle of feathers.

At the other end of the stage, however, Manectric was stumbling. Swanna's last Hydro Pump had been a direct hit, and combined with the damage it had taken from the two Aerial Ace attacks, it appeared to be having trouble standing. Even as Ren watched, teeth clenched in worry, it fell to the ground, utterly drained.

"Both Pokemon are unable to battle!" Winona announced after about ten seconds of silence. "The round is a draw. Both Trainers have one Pokemon remaining."

Ren stepped over to Manectric and knelt down beside it, stroking its wet fur carefully. "Sorry, buddy," he whispered. "I should have taken better care of you." Manectric cracked one eye open and growled gently, one paw twitching slightly. "No, you rest now. You did fantastically." He plucked Manectric's Poke Ball from his belt and let it suck the Pokemon back inside in a shower of red light.

He stood, clipping it back to his belt as he looked down the field at Skyla. "That's quite a Swanna you have there," he said, genuinely impressed. "I haven't come across a Pokemon that strong outside of the Elite Four for a long time. You must have it very well trained."

"We've been together a long time," Skyla said, returning the unconscious Swanna to its Poke Ball. "She's my strongest partner. Still, I wasn't expecting that trick with the Hydro Pump. You do live up to your reputation."

Ren shook his head mutely. He didn't feel he deserved that reputation any more, somehow. He had let Manectric down with his oversight, and his Pokemon had paid the price for it. It wasn't a good feeling, especially when he considered how much his Pokemon trusted him. He had made the same mistake with Solrock, too.

The pop of a Poke Ball being opened drew him from his introspection. He looked up to find a medium-sized black bird Pokemon occupying Skyla's end of the stage. He frowned. "That's . . . Unfezant, isn't it?" It took him a little longer to recognise it due to the lack of the trademark red plumes that he associated with the species. A female?

"That's right, Ren. Are all these Unova Pokemon bothering you?" Skyla asked teasingly.

"There might be some truth to that," Ren said quietly. Most of his experience came from battling Trainers in the Hoenn region, using Pokemon native to the area. Pokemon from as far afield as Unova were rare, and he hadn't had time to battle them all during his short time there. He had certainly never battled a Swoobat or a Swanna before. I did battle against a Trainer with a Tranquill, though. The evolution should just be a slightly more powerful version. This should be manageable. That only left the question of which Pokemon to use. Solrock and Manectric were out for the count. Yanmega would be pulverised, especially without the use of its Ancientpower attack. Camerupt was bulky, but its lack of mobility would leave it wide open for Unfezant to tear it to pieces. Zangoose might work, but it certainly wouldn't be able to fight the Flying-type on an equal footing. No, there was only one Pokemon for that. It was kind of fitting, too.

"Braviary!" he cried aloud, pulling the Poke Ball off his belt and throwing it upwards in the same movement, tapping the release switch on the way. Braviary appeared with a confident screech that echoed throughout the square. It circled over the battlefield, eyeing its opponent keenly.

"Ooh, it's wonderful!" Skyla exclaimed, shading her eyes with one hand as she watched Braviary's movements. "I'm so envious, Ren. It makes me happy to see you have such a wonderful Flying-type on your team. I think everyone should have at least one."

"They are nice, aren't they?" Ren said thoughtfully. "It must be nice to be able to fly so freely like that. I mean, I'm not a fan of flying myself, but just having that freedom, I think, would be nice . . ."

"It really is, Ren. But tell me one thing."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Are you going to try and win this Jet Badge off me or not?"

Ren grinned. "You bet your ass I am," he said. "I'm not going to lose here!"

"Then let's go!" Skyla said, sweeping her arm upwards. "Unfezant! Take to the skies!"

"I can't help but think this battle would have been better fought at the Gym," Ren commented to Winona as he craned his neck upwards to watch the two Pokemon circling each other warily.

"We could move it up there, but the crowd . . ."

"Yeah, fair enough," Ren said. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted upwards. "Braviary! Get in there!" This battle would be fought with minimal input from the Trainers, he could tell. There wouldn't be much he could do, and the battle would likely move far too fast for him to react properly anyway.

With a piercing shriek, Braviary dived for Unfezant, powerful claws extended. Unfezant swung out of the way, moving upwards a little. It flapped its wings powerfully, sending sharp gusts of wind scything towards Braviary. Taking the hit directly, Braviary screeched and lost a little altitude before recovering. "The underside!" Ren yelled.

Braviary soared upwards, slamming its beak into Unfezant's underside. Skyla's Pokemon trilled in alarm and tried to escape, but Braviary drove upwards relentlessly, flapping its wings powerfully. When they reached their apex, Braviary seized Unfezant in its strong claws and swung it downwards, throwing it down towards the ground. With gravity pulling on it as well, it plummeted almost all the way down to the stage before it managed to right itself. By that time, Braviary was on top of it again, pecking at its head and buffeting its body with its wings.

"Unfezant, Razor Wind!" Skyla said quickly. Unfezant swung out from under Braviary's assault and whipped up a storm with its wings, creating a barely visible miniature tornado that slammed into Braviary, driving it backwards with a screech.

Ren winced as he saw the blood on Braviary's feathers. It didn't seem to be too seriously injured as it made its way upwards again. "Keep on top of it!" Ren yelled as Braviary jinked back and forth above Unfezant, impeding its progress upwards. "Superpower!"

Eyes blazing red, Braviary folded its wings back against its body and blasted its way downwards, slamming heavily into Unfezant and driving them both down to the ground. They crashed into the stage with an enormous impact, wood splinters flying everywhere as Braviary's momentum smashed the two Pokemon through the boards to the ground below.

"Unfezant!" Skyla cried, rushing forward to peer down into the jagged hole they had left.

Ren moved quickly over as well to look down, but the two Pokemon had gone. He heard them crashing around beneath the stage, thumping around between the struts that held the construction together. He waited with bated breath, hating the feeling of powerlessness, the sensation of not knowing. He was used to being in control, knowing what was going to happen – or at least what should happen. As he listened to Braviary and Unfezant crashing around beneath his feet, he couldn't help but worry. Was this where he finally let his Pokemon down?

"It's tight," Skyla said, looking up at him from across the hole. "They're well matched, but I think Braviary's size and strength gives it a bit of an edge."

"I don't know," Ren said, confused by the sudden frank conversation in the heat of battle. "Unfezant has its Razor Wind and its other ranged attacks, so if it can just keep out of the way long enough . . ."

Braviary shrieked beneath his feet, and Unfezant came spiralling awkwardly out of the hole, blood matting the feathers on its right wing. It fluttered upwards, putting a good distance between itself and the stage. A few seconds later, Braviary shot upwards, seeming largely unharmed, though its wounds from Unfezant's Razor Wind were still visible.

Above, Unfezant flipped in midair and dived downwards again, wings extended. As it met Braviary, it jinked to one side a little, cracking its wing against Braviary's skull. Ren's Pokemon reeled, losing altitude, but it recovered quickly, spreading its wings wide and swooping upwards.

Both Pokemon paused in midair, eyeing each other up cautiously as their Trainers watched them from below with tense eyes. Is this battle going to end? Ren wondered. Even though the battle had barely been going on for two minutes, Ren felt like he had been watching Braviary for hours. The two Flying-types dived at each other once again, twisting and grappling in midair. Braviary's powerful claws grasped at Unfezant's neck, but the smaller Pokemon slid swiftly out of the way, battering at Braviary's head with its wings.

Several times, Unfezant broke away from Braviary and sent razor-sharp winds slicing through the air towards it, inflicting numerous wounds on its bulkier opponent. Braviary kept up its relentless attack, however, getting in close to Unfezant where it could use its lethal beak and claws.

Suddenly, Braviary managed to get a claw around Unfezant's leg. Ren clenched his fist as he glimpsed victory. Braviary evidently felt the same way, for it let out a triumphant screech that caused several people in the audience to wince and cover their ears. Well used to Braviary's celebrations, Ren just smiled as it swung Unfezant around in the air, clearly in control. It spun several times, building up momentum, before flipping over in midair and throwing the helpless Unfezant down towards the stage.

Ren's mouth twisted involuntarily as he watched Unfezant slam into the ground for the final time, lying unmoving on the wooden boards. That's got to hurt. Despite the twinge of guilt, however, he felt a surge of pride and relief at the outcome. Looking up to the sky, he beckoned Braviary down towards him, smiling happily as the Flying-type flapped its way tiredly down towards him.

"Unfezant's out!" Winona announced suddenly. "That means that the winner of the battle is the challenger, Ren!"

The crowd went wild, which took Ren by surprise. After defeating Steven at the League, the crowd had sat in stunned silence for a full thirty seconds before applause broke out. They had evidently been expecting Steven to destroy him. The crowd at the Feather Carnival, however, held no such compunctions, applauding and shouting enthusiastically.

Ren smiled and waved at the crowd before catching Braviary's heavy, beaten form in his arms. "Oof," he grunted. "You're heavy, all right." Nevertheless, he did his best to lift his victorious battler high, showing him off to the crowd. It was Braviary they applauded for, he realised. Of course they appreciated the show he had put on as their Champion, but the people of Fortree had long held a special affinity for Flying-type Pokemon. Seeing one such as Braviary battling and emerging victorious would have been something very special indeed. Again, Ren felt that flush of pride as he gently stroked Braviary's feathers, still wet with blood. "Come on, you're all beaten up. We need to get you and the others to the Pokemon Centre."

"I'll go with you," Skyla said from behind him, clutching her three Poke Balls. "I've gotta say, I haven't had a battle like that for absolutely ages! That was intense!"

Ren smiled. "It most definitely was," he agreed, returning Braviary to its Poke Ball with another sigh of relief. "Too close for comfort."

"I'm so impressed by your Braviary, Ren," Skyla told him as they stepped off the stage. "They're magnificent Flying-types, and yours is a particularly fine specimen. I thought so when I first saw it, but that battle just proved it! You've trained it well. You'll have to tell me your secret some time."

"Thanks," Ren said. "I just . . . did what felt right." Along with a healthy dose of yehkti, he added silently, feeling slightly sick. He didn't really want another reminder that his success couldn't be put entirely down to his own power. How much of Braviary's strength comes from my training, and how much from my yehkti? I want to believe that I had a hand in it, but I really can't say for sure.

"Oh!" Skyla exclaimed, coming up short and digging the pocket of her jeans. "Before I forget . . . Ren. You earned this many times over during that battle." She held something high to the sky where everybody in the area could see it as sunlight glinted off gold and blue. The crowd – which had parted for them to pass through – applauded again as Skyla handed Ren his fourth Unova League Badge.

Ren looked at it sitting in the palm of his hand, shaped like a graceful wisp of a feather. It was light and joyful, much like Skyla. "I don't usually wear them," he said, "but I think I can make an exception for today." He pinned the badge to the front of his shirt, where it glinted proudly in the bright sunlight.

"It suits you, sport," Skyla said with a grin, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "You'd make a good Flying-type Trainer, you know. You have the vision for it."

Ren's brow creased slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you. But come on. We need to get to the Pokemon Centre. You gave my poor Pokemon a good beating."

"Uh . . . sorry," Ren said guiltily.

"Oh, don't apologise. While they don't enjoy losing, they do love battling. Getting beaten up is a natural part of battling – nobody can win all the time. I guess I just proved that. When was the last time you lost a battle, by the way? I'm curious."

"Just . . . just before the Conference, actually," Ren said quietly as they left the crowd around the stage behind. "I ran into a guy I'd always had trouble with. Out of all the Trainers I battled repeatedly, he was the only one who beat me more times than I beat him. So two nights before the Conference was due to start, he turned up at my hotel room and demanded a battle. I didn't want to, but he was . . . insistent. So we battled. It was one of the best battles of my life, in a way, but at the same time . . . the worst. It was a major confidence-killer when he beat me, I tell you. I just about dropped out of the round robin stage of the Conference several times. Got over it soon enough, obviously, but . . . it stung."

"Did he enter the Conference?" Skyla asked curiously.

"Nah, he only had seven badges at that point. There was one he just couldn't get. He might have them all by now, though. I'll have to ask Winona."

"The Feather Badge was the one he couldn't get?" Skyla looked interested.

"Yeah. Funny how these things work, huh? Him and his Sceptile . . . they never had a chance against Winona."

"Winona's strong," Skyla said, glancing back towards the stage, where Winona appeared to be directing repairs on the hole Braviary had punched through the middle of it. "I really look up to her."

"She's . . . yeah," Ren said. "I mean, Brawly was the Gym Leader I had the most trouble with, thanks to Zangoose's type disadvantage, but Winona . . . Winona was probably the strongest of the Gym Leaders I faced here in Hoenn. Our battle ended in a draw, but she still gave me the Feather Badge anyway."

"You should put that on, too," Skyla suggested as the gate came into sight ahead of them. "Just for today, to prove you're a double Flying-type master!"

"That's . . . a good idea," Ren said, swinging his bag off his shoulder and rifling through it until he found his badge cases. He located the Feather Badge and pinned it next to the Jet Badge on his shirt.

"See, they make a nice pair," Skyla said, tapping them gently with her knuckle.

"Actually, if I think about it . . ." Ren said slyly, switching cases and pulling out another Badge, which he pinned next to the other two before putting his bag back on. He grinned sideways at Skyla, who looked dumbfounded.

"No way! You have the Zephyr Badge, too?"

"I took a trip to Johto a while back," Ren said. "I trained with Falkner at the Violet Gym for a while, actually. If I think about it, I have quite the history with Flying-type Gyms."

"You sure do," Skyla said wonderingly. "You're even more impressive than I thought, Ren Goodwin."

"I hardly think so," Ren said quietly. Damn all this yehkti business, he thought. I'm just starting to realise how much I hate not knowing how much of my own success I'm responsible for.
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
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Chapter Twenty-Seven - Catch Your Breath

This is largely a break chapter, but I won't make any apologies because I feel it's necessary. This is the end of the short Arc 3 - Parabasis the First, which means we go right back into it from the next chapter onwards.

Chapter Twenty-Seven
Catch Your Breath

Ren sat quietly in the waiting bay of the Fortree Pokemon Centre with Skyla. It seemed that none of the six Pokemon that had participated in the battle were seriously hurt: Solrock, steady as ever, was already recovering; Manectric was battered and bruised, but largely all right; and Braviary had multiple shallow lacerations that would heal with minimal time and effort. Skyla's Pokemon were in a similar state, he gathered.

The Mistralton Gym Leader was sitting opposite him with her legs crossed, fiddling with her dark red hair. She'd taken it out of its ponytail, and it was now hanging loosely around her face, reaching just past her shoulders. She sat casually, seeming somewhat more relaxed now that her Pokemon were in capable hands.

"So," she said at length, pulling her hair back again and twisting an elastic tie around it to keep it in place. "You're coming to watch the Unova Conference next week?"

Ren nodded. "Yeah, I am. It ought to be good . . . and maybe I'll get a bit more insight into how Unova Pokemon work. I saw the Conference three years ago."

"Hmm . . . who won that one?" Skyla mused. "I don't seem to remember that year."

"A guy called Tyler, I think. He was about eighteen. Had a Samurott and an impressive Hydreigon."

"Oh, yeah, that guy. What happened with him in the end? I mean, obviously he didn't become Champion, but . . ."

"He lost to Grimsley in the end. His Scrafty destroyed Hydreigon, and the rest of Tyler's team just couldn't keep up the same level. I think he did beat Caitlin first, though."

"Well, it's not every Trainer who can do that," Skyla said airily. "Still, the Unova League hasn't had a serious challenge for years. Alder became Champion seven years ago, and he hasn't had to take a challenger since. Poor guy must be getting bored."

Ren tried to imagine being Champion for seven years. It wasn't an attractive prospect. As a matter of fact, he didn't even think he could manage it. He'd go mad before he got halfway there, especially if he didn't get any challengers. "He probably is." Struck by a sudden, frightening thought, he added, "Skyla? Do you know what the precedent is for Champion versus Champion battles?"

She raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's purely an exhibition match. Neither Champion's title is in danger, because it's commonly accepted that they're both still the strongest in their region. Why do you ask? You thinking of going up against Alder?"

"Uh . . . maybe," Ren said. "I don't think I'd stand a chance, but at the same time, if he really hasn't had a challenger for seven years . . ."

"It'd be a good idea, actually," Skyla said, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward earnestly. "You could give him a good battle, I think."

"I'm . . . not sure," Ren said, glancing away. "I'll think about it."

"Fair enough. It's a big decision to make on a moment's notice, so just take it easy. You have until next Thursday at least, I guess. You'll want to hold your battle at the Conference if you do challenge him."

Ren nodded silently. Next Thursday . . . damn it, I didn't really want to be reminded of that. Next Thursday night was Nekros' deadline for the spirits. He thought it extremely unlikely that the council of elders would give in to Nekros' demands, which meant that Thursday might very well be Ragnarok. The spirits can't win against Nekros. They're doomed if they don't do what he wants. It was clear to him, then, that he had to convince them to go along peacefully with what Nekros demanded. It was their only chance of survival, and despite how much certain individuals annoyed him at times, he didn't want to see any of them dead.

"Ren!"

Ren looked up sharply as Karl burst through the doors of the Pokemon Centre, rushing over towards him and Skyla. "Arceus, Karl, what's the emergency?" Ren asked.

"Huh? Oh, no, I just . . . your battle was . . . that is to say, I- well, I thought . . ."

Ren stood up and grasped Karl by the shoulders, shaking him gently. "Chill, Karl. Relax, then start again."

"Holy crap, man. You sound just like Winona," Karl grumbled, shrugging Ren off. "Okay. I was watching your battle, and, well . . . you two were amazing. I've never seen a battle of that level in person before. I mean, Winona battles some high-level Trainers at the Gym, but none of them are . . . well, they're not the Champion. That was one of the best battles I've ever seen!"

Unsure quite how to respond, Ren changed the topic slightly, seizing on something Karl had said. "Now I think about it, I don't remember seeing you at the Gym when I challenged Winona a couple of years back. You would have been there, wouldn't you?"

"Me? No, actually. I don't remember seeing you battle Winona, so I must have been off on one of my Absol hunts outside the city."

"You're hunting Absol?" Skyla asked with some interest.

Karl spun as if seeing her for the first time. "Oh, uh . . . Leader Skyla!" he spluttered. "Um, yes, I am." He seemed slightly defensive, as if he expected to be reprimanded again.

Skyla only looked thoughtful, however. "Absol are rare and magnificent Pokemon," she said, "even if they can't fly. I have great admiration for anybody able to catch and tame one. Are they common at all in the Hoenn region?"

Karl shook his head. "No. There's rumoured to be a colony of them out on Route 120, but I've found nothing after five years of searching."

"You should come to Unova," Skyla said. "There's a small group that live out on Route 13, near Lacunosa. They hang out around Giant Chasm – they have done ever since the meteor crashed there hundreds of years ago, apparently. Something about the massive residual aura of disaster in the area, or something like that."

"You think I'd have more chance finding one there?" Karl said eagerly.

"Of course you would, if you've been looking here for five years and not seen so much as a whisker. The Chasm Absol have confirmed sightings every few months or so. If you were determined enough, you could probably catch one before too long."

"That'd be amazing," Karl said in barely a whisper. "But I can't get to Unova. There's no way I could afford the trip."

"If you don't mind flying with the cargo, I'll give you a ride back when I leave tomorrow," Skyla said. "Free trip for the friend of the guy who just won the Jet Badge off me. And if you come see me at the Mistralton Gym when you're done, I'll fly you back here on my next trip to Hoenn."

Karl blinked. He looked as if all his Christmases had come at once, but there was something hesitant in his eyes. "That would be . . . great," he said slowly, "but I'll have to think about it."

"Don't think too long!" Skyla warned him with a laugh. "I leave tomorrow at ten. Hey, Ren, you want a ride too? I gotta stop off in Slateport anyway."

"Sure, that sounds good," Ren said. "Thanks."

"Ah! You guys!" Karl exclaimed suddenly. "I almost forgot. Winona sent me to tell you it's gone six o'clock, and the dusk flyover will be starting soon. You should hurry back to the stage," he said. "I've got to go. I'm supposed to be helping the lantern-lighting squad," he added with a grimace before dashing out the door again.

"Well, I sure don't want to miss this," Skyla said, standing up and stretching. "We'd better pick up our Pokemon."

As it turned out, all six Pokemon were largely recovered already. Manectric's movements were still a little stiff, but Braviary's cuts had been treated and were closing already. Solrock was hovering happily in midair between the other two Pokemon's beds when Ren arrived to pick them up.

"They'll all be fine before long," the nurse informed him breezily. "Your Pokemon are strong. Braviary should take at least a couple more hours without doing anything too strenuous, or its cuts might reopen, but it's healing fast. Manectric's the same. One Gym battle in a day is probably enough for any Pokemon."

"They won't be doing any more battling today," Ren promised. "Probably not tomorrow either, for that matter. Do you think Braviary will be okay to take part in the dusk flyover?"

"I wouldn't count on it," the nurse said, brown curls bouncing as she shook her head. "Flying counts as strenuous, I'm afraid."

"Oh, well," Ren said, scratching Braviary's head. "Sorry, buddy. You'll have to sit this one out, I think."

"You good to go, Ren?" Skyla asked, straightening up with her three Poke Balls in her hands. She clipped them back onto her belt even as she headed for the door. "We'd better hurry. The sun sets early at this time of year."

"All right," Ren said, quickly returning Manectric, Solrock and Braviary to their Poke Balls and following her. He nodded politely to the nurse as he backed out the door. "Thank you for taking care of them so well."

"Not a problem. It's my job, after all," she said with a smile.

Ren paused in the doorway with a frown. "Do I . . . know you?" he asked.

The nurse shrugged. "I don't think so," she said. "I don't believe we've met."

"Sorry, then," Ren said quickly, backing out of the door with another nod. "I must have confused you with someone else." He quickly jogged to catch up with Skyla, who had already left the Pokemon Centre.

"Chatting up the nurse, Ren?" she teased as he caught up with her. "I think she's a little old for you."

"Oh, be quiet," Ren grumbled. "My cousin already does that. I don't need you starting too."

As it turned out, they reached the central stage with time to spare. Winona was standing up on the stage with her Skarmory, directing people and Pokemon this way or that. As Ren and Skyla approached, the crowd parting accommodatingly for them, she waved them up onto the stage. "Can I borrow your Flying-types?" she asked.

"Braviary's not allowed to fly for a little while," Ren said regretfully, "but you're more than welcome to take Yanmega with you." He tapped the release button on Yanmega's Poke Ball, and it buzzed happily over to hover by Winona's shoulder.

"Is Braviary all right?" she asked anxiously.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," Ren said, releasing Braviary from its Poke Ball too. The Flying-type hopped around on the stage, looking vaguely incensed at the fact that it wasn't allowed to take to the sky. "He's just resting for a while."

"That's good to hear," Winona said. "Skyla?"

The Mistralton Gym Leader grinned. "I wish I could join you, but I don't have a giant Skarmory to fly on. Take my Pokemon, though, by all means." She ran her hand along her belt, pressing the switch on each of the five Poke Balls held there. Swanna, Unfezant and Swoobat appeared, accompanied by the odd-looking Sigilyph and a Staravia.

Ren raised an eyebrow. "A Staravia? Aren't those endemic to the Sinnoh region?"

"Well, I was passing through a while back when I saw a flock of Starly. I just had to catch one, didn't I? She's shaping up to be quite the capable battler, too. But enough about that. Go on, guys!" she said with a laugh, waving her Pokemon up into the sky. They went in a chorus of squawks and chirps, heading off to the west as they joined the last few Flying-types that were withdrawing from the square. Yanmega buzzed off after them.

Winona vaulted easily up onto Skarmory's back. "It'll be starting in about ten minutes. Find yourselves a spot. It's not like there's anywhere that you can't see from, so anywhere should be fine." With an enthusiastic caw, Skarmory winged its way skyward, leaving Ren and Skyla alone on the stage.

"Is the dusk flyover the end of the Feather Carnival?" Ren asked. "I seem to recall that it is."

"Yeah, it's the last event before everyone goes home. Flyover and fireworks. While it's not as flashy as some of the things going on during the day, it's certainly special to the people here."

"The whole carnival really is, isn't it?" Ren said quietly, looking around at the crowd eagerly milling around the centre of the square. As the light of the sun slipped away behind the treetops, the lanterns that had been hung everywhere were being lit. They were perched on the roofs of stall, tied to posts and hanging from banners and ropes. They provided a good bit of light, but it was nowhere near enough to replace the sunlight that was quickly vanishing. Then again, Ren reasoned, that was likely the point.

The Fortree square took on a much mellower air as people settled in to wait for the finale. There was less of the hubbub that had characterised the daylight hours, and more of a quiet, yet tense, anticipation that buzzed gently throughout the area. The lanterns seemed to be holding their breath too, flickering gently in their places.

"It's something special, all right," Skyla murmured. "Here, we might as well just sit down on the stage to watch. It's not like anyone's gonna tell us off." She did just that, patting the boards next to her.

Ren shrugged and sat down, folding his legs and leaning back on his hands. The sky was a cloudless shade of lavender, halfway between dusk and full daylight. A trickle of red bled across the sky from the west, the dying sun making one last effort to be seen. Even as he sat in silence, however, it bled away, the sky turning an even darker purple.

"You think Karl will take you up on your offer and go back to Unova with you?" he asked at length.

"I think he will," Skyla said. "He does seem like a guy who's focused on what he's doing. In a way, though, I guess it does depend on just how determined he is. If he's that set on catching an Absol here in Fortree, then leaving now might seem like a failure to him."

"That does kind of sound like how he'd see it," Ren said worriedly.

"You think he should come back to Unova?"

"Yeah," Ren said. "He told me today about his goal of becoming a Gym Leader. If he stays here in Fortree, he'll never get there. And he's said he'll stay in Fortree until he finds an Absol. If you take him to Unova and he can find what he's looking for there, well . . . he'll be able to move on."

"You think he can make Gym Leader?" Skyla asked. "It's not like Pokemon Leagues let just anyone set up an official Gym. It's a really tough thing to do, especially for a kid his age."

"So's becoming the League Champion," Ren noted, "but look at me."

Skyla chuckled. "You have a point, but being a Gym Leader takes entirely different qualities than becoming Champion. It's not easier or harder, just . . . different. You have to continually work at it, keeping it up for years or even decades. It's not just that, though. You've got to have something . . . a little bit special about you. It's hard to put it into words, but there's something that every Gym Leader has. A certain brand of pride, I guess you could call it."

She seemed troubled, so Ren suggested, "Why not try telling this to Karl? He's the one who needs to hear it, I'd say."

"You're right, I guess," Skyla said. "But I want to ask you, Ren. You know Karl better than I do, so do you think he can make it? I don't want to give him false hope."

"I only met him today, you know," Ren grumbled. "But yes, I definitely think that if anyone can do it, he can. He's an interesting guy, and he knows more than he lets on, I think . . . but I can definitely see him making it someday."

"That's all I need," said Skyla with a grin. "If he wants to go, I'll take him to Unova tomorrow."

"Thanks," Ren said. "I know it'll mean a lot to him – not that he'll admit it, of course."

Silence fell once more as Ren returned his attention to the sky in the west. The last traces of sunlight were disappearing behind the thick trees, leaving the multitudinous lanterns as the only sources of light in the square.

Moments later, a small black shape became barely visible in the sky to the west. It grew larger, followed by several others heading slowly towards the square. Ren noticed the crowd around the stage falling silent and still, all eyes glued to the sky.

Quickly enough, the lead shape became identifiable as Skarmory, with Winona just visible sitting on its back. Behind it in perfect triangular formation flew well over a hundred Flying-type Pokemon, flying with all the precision of military aircraft. The Pokemon were somewhat indistinct, illuminated only by the myriad of lanterns beneath them, but Ren could see enough. There were Pelipper and Wingull, Hoppip and Skiploom, and Swellow and Taillow. Dozens of different kinds of Pokemon from all over the world were evident, though the largest part of the group was definitely the Hoenn contingent. Ren spotted Yanmega flying directly behind Winona and Skarmory, alongside Skyla's Unfezant.

Nobody made a sound as the Pokemon flew overhead. As they passed the stage, Ren tipped his head back to watch Skarmory leading them over the square. There were no fancy manoeuvres or clever tricks to see here, unlike some of the flamboyant displays he'd seen throughout the day. There were no caws, screeches or chirps; the Pokemon simply flew quietly across the square, their silent trajectory dead straight.

Yet even so, Ren could tell that it was the most appreciated display of the day. Every resident of Fortree City was present, and there was a sense of reverence in the crowd that was almost palpable. A rebellious part of his mind wanted to say something to break the silence, but it was quickly stifled. Though nobody had said a word against it, he felt like he would be lynched if he made a noise now. So he held his breath and watched the Pokemon stream by overhead. There were more of them than he had originally thought, the entire fleet taking more than a minute to pass over his head at their sedate, reduced speed.

As they passed overhead, Ren shifted so that he could see them departing towards the east. He didn't feel the same sense of connection with the Flying-types that was evident on the face of every Fortree resident around him, but he was beginning to understand their attraction. The flyover had demonstrated that for him. Simplicity and grace. No unnecessary movements, no showmanship. That's the Flying type at its purest, he realised.

He finally dropped his head to see Skyla half-smiling sideways at him. A brief glimmer in her eyes made him wonder whether she was reading his mind.

Ren jumped as the first of the fireworks went off, his heart suddenly pounding. Within seconds, the sky was filled with multicoloured bursts of light, the explosions generating huge, booming soundwaves that seemed to shake the ground beneath him. He closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to remain calm. Wasn't expecting that, somehow. Skyla had mentioned the fireworks, but somehow it had gone right out of his mind.

He took a deep, slightly shaky breath as the pyrotechnics continued to rattle and crack overhead, sending bursts of blue, red and gold light spiralling across the sky.

After the fireworks display ended, Ren made his way back to the Pokemon Centre as soon as he had recovered Yanmega from Winona. The Bug-type seemed to have enjoyed being part of the finale, and it buzzed happily at his shoulder the whole way through town.

As he made his way through the crowd that was filtering quickly away from the square, he felt the cool metal of the Dreamlight bumping gently against his chest beneath his shirt.

I've got a job to do tonight, he said silently to himself. As fun as today was, there are more important things to worry about.

When he arrived at the Pokemon Centre, the curly-haired young nurse from earlier was still on duty at the counter. "Looking for a room for the night?" she asked with a smile as Ren approached.

"If you could, yeah," Ren said gratefully.

"Sure. Most of the people who attend the Feather Carnival are actually locals, so we're not too heavily booked. I'll put you in number 17, all right?" she suggested, tapping a few buttons and holding out a swipe card. "Down the hallway to your right, fourth door on the left."

"Thanks," he said, taking the card. When the nurse didn't speak, he hovered awkwardly for a moment. "Look, um . . . are you sure we haven't met? I'm sorry, but you just seem really familiar somehow."

She frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment. "I don't think so. Then again, you must have come here to Fortree once for the Feather Badge, right? I might have been here then. We get lots of Trainers through here, though, so I can't recall every one."

"That must be it," Ren said, nodding. "Sorry for bothering you. Good night!" He beat a hasty retreat, feeling vaguely embarrassed for reasons he couldn't quite fathom.

Room 17 was just as he expected: small and sparsely furnished with a single bed and a nightstand. Six small hollows in the top of the nightstand would accommodate his Pokemon team if he wanted, but he left them in his bag by the bed. He set the alarm clock on the nightstand for seven in the morning.

Here we go, he thought as he lay down, touching the Dreamlight carefully as if to make sure it was still there. He had ten days to convince the spirits to do as Nekros had asked, but he had the feeling he was going to need all the time that was available to him in order to do so. Elly's so contrary she'd probably disagree with me for the sake of it, and Elsin seemed particularly angry with the Iehkti'na. Is there more history there than I thought?

Only one way to find out.
 
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