ㅤMagnus Larsenㅤ
⠀Familiar Faces⠀
background art by @cloudtrumpets »
Galaxy Hall, Professor Laventon's Office, late noon
Laventon's office was as cluttered and hurriedly put-together as the professor himself; a blend of Galarian furnishings strewn with wacky contraptions and Eastern comforts. He seemed to hoard his books on any spare surface he could find. The floor was no exception. Magnus half-tripped on a stack of them lying about the doorway, stumbling into the room with three Dewpiders hanging off him. The professor did not even flinch from this clumsy entrance, nor did he glance up; perhaps he was used to it, for he remained engrossed in scribbling at his desk and mumbling to himself.
"But if we used Slowpoke... then perhaps we could... no, no, too unethical," he went on.
Magnus hovered awkwardly in the centre of the room, too polite to interrupt. The Dewpiders, now in good health and obsessed with their human playground, scuttled across his shoulders and over his head, getting their spindly legs caught in his hair. He untangled one for the dozenth time, as patiently and habitually as though he'd been doing it all his life. Of course, the sensible thing would be to keep them inside their Poké Balls, but to Magnus, this seemed very cramped, and he had great sympathy for anything in cramped spaces.
Liesel was not in the least bit happy with this pest invasion. If she wasn't trying to nip their feet, she was taking it out on Magnus by nipping him. He had quite enough of that. Magnus pulled her out by the scruff of her neck and tossed her over to the Kantonian black pine in the corner of the room, where Laventon's Rowlet was perched. Rowlet tilted its head quizzically at Liesel, watching as she scarfed down berries from its feeding tray. Her tail flicked up: "screw you" in Sentret. She really had no manners.
"Precisely, precisely," the professor mumbled in response to all the chatter.
"...Professor," Magnus finally ventured, remembering how Laventon could get carried away for hours.
"Leave the tea on the table, Dorothy, m'dear." He really was lost in his own world. "And do light the fire on your way. Jolly cold this evening."
Magnus glanced at the Cyndaquil in the hearth and shrugged helplessly. He knelt down to build a nest of firewood around it, smiling to himself and reflecting on how little the professor had changed. Laventon was more like an uncle than an employer. The two of them first met when the professor arrived at Magnus's homeland on a research expedition nearly ten years ago. He required the help of a local guide, and the village had offered young Magnus, who they jokingly claimed was half Pokémon. Magnus and Laventon could not understand a word spoken between them, but money is a universal language, something the generous professor was never short of; and so Magnus gladly demonstrated his worth.
He found the professor to be a capricious and amusing man who spoke far too much and seemed overly impressed with everything. They were opposites in nearly every way, though Laventon was really quite taken with Magnus's phlegmatic and taciturn manner and his natural intuition for wildlife, and by all accounts wanted to ship him off to Galar.
"My boy, you have a gift!" the professor had told him upon their parting, those ten years ago. "It has been an honour and a privilege. Should you ever wish to see more of the world, then I would gladly take you under my wing—just remember the name Laventon!" He had given Magnus a card bearing his Galarian address. Magnus could not comprehend those words at the time, but he knew the intentions were well-meant. All he could manage was a retiring smile and a shy, uncertain "takk". Perhaps neither of them had changed. It was not until Magnus left his homeland at age twenty-four did he meet the professor again. Three years on, and here he was, a settler in an alien land.
At last the professor rose from his desk. "Ah, Magnus! Just the fellow I've been wanting to see," he greeted, as though Magnus had only just entered the room. The Dewpiders immediately caught his eye. "Good heavens, it appears you've brought company! Now, where the devil did that tea get to? Dorothy has been jolly forgetful lately. Sometimes I think she doesn't listen to a word I say—makes a chap feel practically invisible. Could be deafness, mind. Might have to lay her off. Dash it, if a man can't end the day with a cup of tea!"
Magnus quietly nodded along to all this prattle. Poor Dorothy. The old maid certainly kept her hands full with this one. But then he had to admit, the office showed no trace of a maid's labour in any way.
"—Ah, but forgive me, I do carry on," the professor relented. "I say, you alright under there? You're looking rather like a Stoutland under the bombardment of her pups. Chuck the rascals in with Oshawott—that'll do them some good—and leave the Poké Balls with me. I'll see to their placement on the farm in the morning."
"I would be grateful," Magnus said with a soft chuckle, untangling more spider legs from his hair and plopping the offending Dewpiders into the water tank, glad to be rid of them. By now he was covered in trails of silk.
Laventon, as usual, was very impressed. "Your first assignment on the field and you bring back not one, but three Pokémon! Very useful specimens, at that. However did you do it?"
Magnus sheepishly rubbed his head. Between the praise and the awkward question, he was feeling very self-conscious. He cleared his throat and stared off into the fire. "...About dragons."
"Come again?"
"I believe I saw one. What do you know of them?"
The professor looked stranded in thought as he puzzled over the sudden change in direction. Then his face lit up. "What's that, you say? A dragon? In the fieldlands? Are you quite sure? Good heavens, man, what did it look like—where did it go?"
Magnus frowned and deliberated on this. He always did, but every second of his silence was torture for Laventon. "It was miles away," he said, extending a hand to the south-west. "Beyond the mountains. Large, like Onix. And no wings."
"A serpent?"
"Serpent, yes. On this I am ignorant, Professor. I have never known them to fly."
"My dear fellow, when it comes to dragons, consider me your walking encyclopaedia!" Impressive, until Laventon withdrew a literal encyclopaedia from beneath a stack of books—with the rest toppling onto the floor. At least it explained the state of his office. He slammed it onto the kotatsu and eagerly flipped through the pages. "Dragon... a dragon, you say... I do wonder..." he rambled on. "Yes, it's as I thought. Beyond the ancient myths and legends, only one true dragon has ever been recorded as serpentine in appearance and capable of flight. They call it Dragonair."
"Dragonair..." Magnus echoed the name, learning it for the first time. Within the book was an ancient Kanto-style illustration. It depicted the sun as a gem upon the serpent's neck, one side hidden in cloud, the other shining bright, with the four seasons mingling around it, all swirling above a great lake. It was reverent, a symbol of prosperity and change. Something did not sit right with Magnus. This Dragonair possessed all the hallmarks of the Pokémon he had seen, certainly from a glance, yet the feelings it instilled in him were nothing alike. Perhaps his memories had only played tricks.
The professor elaborated, staring wistfully into the air as if picturing one right before him. "Extremely elusive. In some regions they are venerated as gods, said to control the weather and bless whoever is lucky enough to see them. We know so little about Hisui and its inhabitants, I'd wager anything is possible—but to think we might be living on the doorstep of one of the world's rarest Pokémon... or rarer still! What a time to be alive! And I shall be the first of my fellows to document it—you see if I don't!"
Laventon swelled with such hearty enthusiasm it was almost contagious, even to someone as placid as Magnus himself, who didn't really know how to express excitement. It was too out of harmony with the rest of him. The most that happened was his eyes shone a little brighter and crinkled at the corners. "I would not mind a small part in that," he said, almost under his breath out of modesty. To his surprise, the professor suddenly whirled on him, grabbing him by the shoulders, his face rapt by the idea.
"My dear boy," Laventon began, for he still called Magnus "boy" out of habit, "If anyone is capable of tracking down a dragon, it's you! Why, it's a splendid idea!"
Magnus waved this off, laughing. "In earnest, Professor, dragons are beyond my experience—"
"I suspect it was headed to Lake Verity!" Laventon interjected, not paying the slightest bit of attention. He hurried over to the map of Hisui that was plastered on one of his blackboards. With a finger on Jubilife Village, he traced it south across Aspiration Hill, then west past the mountain range that stretched along the river, landing it on the great lake. "Yes, I believe so. And certainly reachable by foot. Fraught with deadly Pokémon, naturally, but that's all par for the course—why, you survey chaps practically live for it, ho ho!"
Before Magnus could so much as raise an eyebrow at this, the voice of Captain Cyllene lashed out from the doorway adjoining her office. "Professor Laventon! Am I to believe you are pressuring an injured member into duties well beyond the level of his rank?"
Laventon nearly jumped out his skin. "W-well, I, erm—hold on, injured, you say...?" he stammered.
Cyllene clicked her tongue. "Mr Larsen, is that not blood on your uniform?"
Magnus absently shifted a hand to the place where the Luxio had dug its claws. The puncture was only shallow by his standards, nothing a medicinal leek couldn't fix, and yet it had bled through his clothes when the Luxio first inflicted it. "Just a scratch," he said.
"A wound like that is the very least you will come away with, armed with nothing but your pet squirrel." She side-eyed Liesel, who was passed out asleep in the feeding tray, her stomach distended.
"I would rather stay unburdened," Magnus quietly but firmly protested. Even if he was embarrassed for Liesel. "That is how I work best."
"Then you will be satisfied documenting Bidoof and Starly with the rookies," Cyllene mocked, her arms crossed. She held his gaze intently. "I know a man of higher ambitions when I see one, Mr Larsen. You do not belong in the lower ranks. However, as your captain, it would reflect badly on my judgement to promote someone so ill-equipped for the dangers of this region—dangers you have no real idea of. Do not pretend otherwise. I am striking you from further expeditions until you demonstrate a willingness to follow protocol. Is that clear?"
Magnus clenched his jaw to stop himself arguing further. The captain was the type who never left a room until she had the final word, this much he knew. "As crystal," he relented.
"Good. And as for
you, Professor." She turned to Laventon, who automatically snapped to attention like a soldier in salute, only distinctly more nervous. "You will notify personnel that Lake Verity has been marked a danger zone. At least that way, I can ensure you won't be sending any more rookies to their doom." She meant it dryly, though it would not surprise Magnus if the professor had a track record of this.
"As you say, Captain!" said the amenable professor, fiddling uneasily with the pompom on his hat. He always squinted his eyes up in a smile when Cyllene was around, for unlike Magnus, he could not parry the cold steel of her glare; it only made him sweat. "Wouldn't you know it, I have just the Pokémon in mind! Security have reported an Alpha, out in Horseshoe Plains. Now, now, don't look at me like that, Captain, I'm not suggesting that monster of a Rapidash we all live in fear of! But I'm sure neither of you could deny the practicality of a Ponyta?"
Cyllene weighed up the risks, then looked to Magnus. "An Alpha. Think you're up for the challenge?"
"I've tamed wilder things," Magnus said carelessly. In truth, he rather liked the idea. A Ponyta in its own right had many uses—heat, fire, light, resource transportation... but they were skittish and frail and easily detected, with a strong instinct to flee. An Alpha, however, would grow large enough to break in and ride, and a ride in these vast lands was too great a boon. That settled it.
"Well then," Cyllene continued, "If you can catch yourself an Alpha, I
might be impressed enough to let you boys off on your little spree. But don't hold your breath on any promises. That will be all. Good evening, gentlemen." She spun smoothly on her heel and returned to her office, a woman of unwavering poise.
As soon as she was gone, Laventon leaned in close to Magnus with an evil expression and a secretive hand to his mouth, and whispered, "Wouldn't it be jolly fun if you came back with an Alpha Wurmple instead?"
Magnus had to reflect on this a moment. "She's afraid of them?" he whispered back.
"Despises bugs! Utterly falls to pieces!"
Both men shared an idea, their eyes full of mischief. They peered over at the water tank, where the three Dewpiders clung to the glass in all their prickly, insectile, slimy glory. Magnus looked back at Laventon, and Laventon looked at Magnus, and a roguish grin spread across their faces.
Magnus scooped up Liesel and stuffed her in a pocket so he could make a quick getaway. Then he joined the professor in fishing out the spiders. Like a pair of misbehaving schoolboys, they crouched by the door and let the Dewpiders slip into her office, where they scuttled along the walls, inching ever closer to the oblivious captain's desk.
He and Laventon made a beeline for the exit. They were just outside the Galaxy Hall's doors when a piercing scream erupted so loud it rattled the windows and made the security guard fall from his post.
"
Gyaaaaaaaaaah!!! Laventon! Larsen!
Somebody! Get. Them.
OUT!!"
"Aha ha ha ha!"
"Ho ho ho! Jolly good! Ho, my!"
Magnus and the professor threw an arm around each other like old comrades, their happy faces catching the last of the evening sun. Across the road, a group of survey members were celebrating the end of their shift with drinks at The Wallflower, same as they always did, and they raised their glasses to Laventon with a cheer and a hoot—it was not the first time his lab specimens "innocently got loose", nor would it be the last. Fortunately for Cyllene, these pranks never seemed to undermine the respect of her recruits, but endeared them to her. Laventon insisted it did her some good.
"Ah, I'd almost forgotten," he said to Magnus, reaching into his coat for a purse of money, "We'll make it two thousand for the day, shall we? That ought to cover your hard labour!"
Uncomfortable by such a payment, especially in the presence of his colleagues, Magnus sheepishly declined. "This is too much," he said. "You are generous, but I have no use for it."
"Nonsense, my good man!" Laventon dismissed with a wave. "Why, if you're short on ideas, you could buy us all a round of drinks! Life's too short to be cheap!"
The survey members all cheered to this, and Magnus blushed at the attention. For once there was a seat at their table for him.
At least there would have been, if the evening did not have other plans in store. Magnus heard his name called from across the bridge, where a young deckhand came running up to hail him. "I'm glad I found you!" said the boy. "There's someone at the docks, just arrived. She's been calling after you. A young lady."
Magnus frowned, his attention piqued. "Young lady?"
The boy nodded. "I think it's urgent. Nobody can understand a word she's saying, 'cept that she keeps repeating your name. Blonde, she is. You'd better go. Pretty girls shouldn't be alone round the docks at this hour."
There were a handful of pretty blondes who knew him by name, and only two of them would travel this far just to see him. He had a nagging suspicion of who it might be. It formed a knot in his stomach. "Very well," he said, and after paying Beni for another round, he reluctantly gestured his leave. The others barely noticed. They only wanted their drinks.
---
His walk to Prelude beach was anxious and crowded, with many supply corps members bustling goods from the ships to the village and back, and families rushing to greet loved ones ashore. He overheard sailors spit cruel words about the natives; some commotion over stolen cargo. Magnus held little fondness for sailors, as a rule. He distinctly remembered a time in his youth when an old sailor snatched him by his hair and offered to pay good money for it. The only reason he got away was through mention of his father's name. If anyone tried that now, they would come away with their fingers rearranged instead—if they dared accost him in the first place. His stature not only gave him the advantage of intimidation, but of spotting faces among the crowd. Even if he failed to recognise this "pretty girl", she would doubtlessly notice a blonde giant among the sea of dark hair.
And she did.
"Maggie!"
His heart jumped as he turned to the voice. Only one person called him Maggie. The moment he faced her, she was in his arms, buried in his poncho, and he looked down to see bright, pale gold hair, fairer than his own.
"Elsa," he breathed, arms hovering awkwardly by his side as he recovered from the hug-attack, before gently wrapping them around his little sister. He heard Liesel squeak from being squished between them under his poncho.
His sister pulled away just enough to gaze up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Maggie, we've missed you so dearly at home," she said, smiling sadly. She spoke in their dialect. It was nice to hear it. "I never thought I'd hear your voice again."
He struggled to find the words—emotions bubbled up inside him and drowned out his thoughts. All he could do was stare at the face he hadn't seen in almost three years, and marvel at how much she'd grown. She would be eighteen now. Her baby face had slimmed into a heart-shape, with the high cheekbones and icy blue eyes inherited from their mother, but she had Father's platinum colouring, not the strawberry blonde he and his mother shared. Looking at her now, he felt nostalgic, bittersweet and yet deeply troubled all at once.
Elsa searched her brother's face for some hint of gladness. "You look surprised. I thought you would be here to meet me when I got off the boat." Then something seemed to dawn on her. "Maggie, you did receive the letter, didn't you?"
Magnus shook his head, incredulous. "Letter? Elsa, what letter? What are you doing here?"
"So you do not know..." What was that inscrutable sheen in her eyes just now? It was gone the moment she snapped her gaze away, hidden behind her curtain of blonde lashes. Magnus's brotherly instincts told him that devious thoughts were brewing on the other side. He was growing agitated with this mystery. "Know what?" he pressed.
Elsa wrung her fingers, contemplating her answer. "My reasons for being here are not urgent. Marie sent me. The village is safe; things carry on as normal over there, like nothing has changed. But I've changed... No, that's a lie. I've woken up to the true side of me." Her gaze lifted wearily to his. "Magnus, it's been a long journey. I'm tired, and I never want to see another boat again for as long as I live. Can we talk about this somewhere more comfortable? After a good meal?"
Magnus ran a hand restlessly through his hair, mind reeling, like it does in a sickly dream with no explanations. He hated leaving problems up in the air, where he couldn't fix them. But this wasn't the time or place. "Okay," he finally gave in. "But I am not happy, Elsa. Marie had no right. What would you have done if I'd moved on? You'd be stranded with nothing, no-one. You can't even speak the—!"
"I know all that!" she shot back. "But you're here, and I'm fine, so what use is there going on about it? I'm not a baby anymore, Magnus, so don't treat me like a helpless child, like I always need to be minded! You and everyone else..."
She had become so outspoken, so brash. It caught him off-guard. All he could see in her was his rosy-cheeked baby sister. He'd forgotten how much people change when they burgeon from their teenage years. They felt so very long ago. But in the end, he was still her big brother, and it was his sworn brotherly duty to be overbearing at times if it meant keeping her safe. He softened a little, letting her outburst slide over him. Then he smiled. "You've grown so beautiful, Elsa. I knew you would."
Her eyes grew wide and she shuffled uncomfortably, cheeks tinged red; he'd won at dispelling her temper.
"Come," he said, "it'll soon be dark. Let's get you warm. You'll need to walk off your sea legs."
"I don't have sea legs," she muttered, but when she started following him, she wobbled and teetered like a Spinda, and he chuckled at her expense.
"Want help?"
"I'm not an invalid, thank you!"
"You're not fooling anyone, walking like that."
"Oh, shut up, you overgrown Gumshoos!"
And they continued like this the entire walk home.
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