Act 2: Chapter 12

Act 2: Chapter 12

"In summary, you do have all the powers of a peace officer since Lab Trainers fall under the broad umbrella of 'Pokemon League Field Agent', but Lee, please consult me before you take any liberties with said powers," the voice of Amanda Keller, Lee's recently acquired lawyer, pleads from Lee's cellphone. The little device is on speaker mode for the whole room to hear. "Your conduct is going to be scrutinized heavily by the League Department of Justice if you insist on your investigation, and we must cross every T and dot every I, do you understand?"

"I do..." Lee sighs and rests his chin in his steepled hands. From his place at the hotel room table, he looks at his assembled pokemon.

On the bed is Ninetales, with Shinx snuggled into the vixen's mass of tails. On the surface, Ninetales appears to be busy entertaining the kitten by wiggling a tail tip for a delighted Shinx to bat at with her paws, but Lee knows she's dedicating the conversation to memory. Grovyle sits beside her with his legs crossed, paying rapt attention. His sharp, yellow eyes never leave the cell phone on the table, occasionally shifting his chewing twig in his mouth when deep in thought.

Octillery is splayed out on the other chair opposite of Lee, his tentacles hanging limply. However, his narrowed eyes tell everyone he's dissecting each word Amanda says.

'I couldn't ask for a better team.'

"Honestly, I didn't expect my authority as a Lab Trainer to extend that far," Lee admits to his lawyer. "I'm well aware of the emergency first responder aspect. Professor Birch checked to ensure I knew first aid and had a basic grasp on Hoenn law before we set out, but I had no idea I had full authority to conduct criminal investigations from start to finish. Brendan and I have had run-ins with criminal elements before, and I thought his declaration of arrest was him getting too excited."

'Nigel probably would have better prepared us if I hadn't forgotten to tell him about Magma and Aqua like a dingus.'

"Not at all. Lab Trainers have full authority to lawfully detain criminal suspects, as you now know." The woman on the other end of the phone pauses. "The politics within the League is tiresome at the best of times. According to my senior associates, much of the Pokemon League leadership, or at least the ones who hold seniority, resent the casualization of pokemon battling in recent years. To combat a shortage of 'strong' officers and field agents in their ranks, the League effectively deputizes trainers holding special trainer classes, such as Lab Trainers, Ace Trainers, Top Coordinators, and so on. In these situations, the trainer in question undergoes a background check and personality exam unless vouched for by a trusted member of the League, then their authority is automatically granted. Due to your affiliation with Professor Birch, you fall into the latter category."

Ninetales frowns. 'We only needed to read the League regulation book, and we weren't even given a test or a timeline to finish it. Isn't the training for a police officer much more stringent?'

When Lee voices Ninetales' questions aloud, Amanda sighs. "The municipal police forces are administered by the civil government. They're separate from League agents, even if both operate under the same laws and charters. The Hoenn League has been criticized for having such lax requirements ripe for nepotism before. When issues do crop up, the League will either rip the extra powers away, or will softball the offender for fear of alienating them. The better the trainer, the lighter the slap on the wrist. Not that it matters much, as bean counters can easily justify a self-training, self-funding, and self-directing peacekeeping force on paper." Amanda has to stop for a moment and take a breath. "The current system only works as well as it does because the deputized trainers are often high-profile individuals beholden to their public image and personal prestige. If not for these factors, things wouldn't work in the slightest.'

"You don't sound like you approve," Lee muses. "Do we need to worry about getting direct orders from the League?"

The lawyer on the other end of the phone hesitates. "Yes and no. It depends on where you get the orders from. Official writs from the LeagueDepartment of Justice or Department of Defense can force your hand legally, just as a direct order from the Elite Four or Champion can, but much of the PL leadership is very skittish on the subject of actually trying to order deputized trainers. You can expect more indirect methods from the PL when they need trainers to act, such as emergency bulletins promising a reward for cooperation. Otherwise, they're hoping that deputized trainers take up the mantle of peacekeeper out of a sense of patriotism or goodwill."

'So like that alert we got outside of Mauville from that Pokemon Ranger.'' Lee recalls the incident with the roving Zangoose pack. "I see, and if someone in the League gives us an order without a writ?"

"Legally, it's a strong suggestion, not an order. Be wary of burning bridges, though. For example, if an official in League Accounting and Finance is demanding your assistance for a non-life-threatening matter, you can disregard them. If it's someone within your sphere, say, the League Academic Board, you may want to weigh the pros and cons before making a decision, lest they make your life more difficult. If you ever have doubts, call me right away."

Lee sits and thinks for a moment, eyes jumping to his open laptop and the typed-out notes within. He was in the middle of brainstorming a way to mitigate Grovyle's relative fragility in battle, and finding a way to combine Leaf Blade and Absorb for a 'life-steal' effect seemed like the way to go. Amanda's call interrupted the research.

With a contemplative hum, Lee returns his eyes to his phone. "Seems like an unnecessarily mercenary system if you ask me. Are there many incidents that pop up as a consequence of the current setup?"

"Not too many. Several a year, usually relating to white-collar crime or willful misinterpretation of the law in the line of duty. I'm still dreading the day one of those is dropped on my desk." There is the sound of a pen scratching upon paper over the speaker. "Bills have been introduced to reform the deputization system, but incident statistics, or lack thereof, give opponents of the bills too much weight. A cost-cutting argument falls flat as well, as only trainers providing extra services like Lab Trainers are afforded a paycheck."

The more Lee hears about the inner workings of the Pokemon League, the more it seems like an unknowable, nightmarish behemoth of bureaucracy to him. Departments and officials with poorly defined duties, checks and balances all out of whack, Gym Leaders and Elites reigning like lords, authority being handed out like candy and that's before factoring in the civil government that handles day-to-day municipal and mundane functions. To further complicate matters, it seems like the Pokemon League and civil government are perpetually at each other's throats all the time.

'Yet, Leader Moore complains about bureaucracy constantly being a thorn in his side?' Ninetales chimes in on his thoughts. 'I recall him stating that even ordering common office supplies through the League wasn't worth the effort.'

'True but Moore does have a black mark on his record for ditching his post for the war. A single pencil pusher isn't going to mess with a Gym Leader, but' Lee leaves the telepathic line hanging.

'...With a target on his back, the spineless sort would be willing to gang up on him,' the vixen concludes with a frown and a flick of her ear. 'Attempting the same thing on a Gym Leader in good standing would be career suicide.'

'Petty office politics aside, poverty and crime are at lows that would have been impossible on Earth, so for all the nonsense they get up to, the Pokemon League must be doing something right.'

"Just a few incidents a year, huh?" Lee hums, returning his head to the phone call. In the back of his mind, he idly touches the calm current of emotions running between himself and Ninetales, like dipping a finger in a warm river. The zoologist smiles, a realization baring itself to him. "While I'm not endorsing the system, I'm willing to bet the pokemon themselves also factor into the lack of incidents. I know for a fact none of my pokemon would agree to any immoral shenanigans. The League is working with closely bonded teams, not individuals, and there is a degree of internal moderation within a team like that," Lee says, looking at this pokemon.

Grovyle nods firmly.

Octillery's nod is slower, and a bit more uncaring, but it's still an affirmation.

Shinx ceases cuddling the fox tail in her grasp, staring back at Lee with big, innocent eyes.

Finally, Ninetales raises her nose. 'I don't think you have a treacherous bone in your body, Beloved,' she says. 'If the impossible day comes where you are led astray, I'll happily guide you back.'

Smiling, Lee turns his head back to his phone. "I don't want to disappoint them just as they don't want to disappoint me. Perhaps pokemon are the keystone keeping everything in place?"

"I'm not a pokemon trainer, so maybe that's the answer," Amanda concedes. "It's still a legal nightmare waiting to happen, though."

"I guess so. Anyway" Lee glances at the clock on the wall. "I know I've kept you for longer than I intended. Sorry about that, Amanda. I'll let you go for now and consult you before I engage the Lavaridge courts."

"It's not a problem, Lee. It's what I'm here for. Have a nice day."

"Same to you."

There is a click from Lee's phone, then the call ends.

Taking the cellphone and slipping it back into his pocket, Lee leans back in his chair with a sigh. "Trainer, nutritionist, amateur electrician, public figure, and now private investigator," he mutters. "I get that trainers need to be flexible, but this towering pillar of hats is getting heavy."

'Don't worry too much. We're here to help each step of the way.' Ninetales vocalizes her telepathic words for Grovyle and Octillery's benefit. 'Right?' she asks with a short yip, one deeper than a mundane fox could make.

Grovyle lets out an affirmative growl deep in his throat, his yellow eyes meeting Lee's.

Octillery just nods once more.

Emerging from her cozy blanket of tails, Shinx makes her support known by leaping from the bed to Lee's lap with a somewhat clumsy bound, one that forces her to dig her claws into Lee's leg a bit to steady herself. The kitten cuddles herself to her trainer's stomach, purring up a storm.

A smile rises to Lee's face.

A sharp knock on the door draws everyone's eyes, and Lee glances at Ninetales.

'It's Zinnia and Shelgon,' the fox provides after reaching her mind out. 'And a pokemon I've not met before. Would you like me to open it?'

'If you could, please.'

Ninetales narrows her eyes, a violet glow to them.

The knob of the hotel room door is enveloped in a corona the same color as Ninetales' eyes. Slowly, hesitantly, the knob twists seemingly of its own accord. The metal groans for a split second when Ninetales twists the knob as far as it can go, but she quickly eases her force off. The door then slowly swings open, letting Zinnia stride in. Following shortly behind her is Shelgon, and behind Shelgon is a pokemon resembling a miniaturized t-rex, standing just short of three feet tall. Its scales are brown and rocky, with orange outcroppings on its head and stubby tail. Its short forearms end in two white claws, its feet ending in three. Around its neck is a crest of white spines, just as white as the large teeth lining its jaws. Its eyes scan the room, taking in everyone and everything with suspicion.

'Ah, looks like Tyrunt finally arrived.'

"Well, it certainly took that lab long enough," Lee says. Every part of him desperately wants to get up close and examine the living fossil that just strolled in, but he restrains himself just as Zinnia instructed a few days prior. "Just today?"

"Just today," Zinnia nods. She sighs in an exasperated manner, but she can't quite hide her excitement. "Tyrunt is a spirited little guy, that's for sure. The lab had some trouble getting him into a ball, so I can't really be upset that they ran behind for a few days. I had to cut today's investigations short to pick him up, but I did get a few interesting leads."

The entire time she's speaking, Tyrunt eyes the various unfamiliar pokemon in the room, all of whom meet his gaze without a flinch. When he finally sees Shinx, a growl rolls out of his throat.

The kitten stiffens in Lee's lap, turning her spooked yellow eyes to Tyrunt.

The dino cracks his jaws open, letting his growl grow louder. In Lee's lap, Shinx's hackles rise and her claws dig into his thigh.

Hissing, Lee reaches his mind across the short, telepathic gulf to Ninetales. 'Ninetales, just as Zinnia said. Let Tyrunt know he can't be a bully.'

Ninetales hops off of Lee's bed in a flurry of gold fur and hellish red eyes, standing directly before Tyrunt. Drawing her lips back and baring her teeth, a snarl fit for a beast twice her size rips through the room. Rolling tongues of flame weave between the foxes' teeth and trail the edges of Ninetales' mouth as she takes a step forward. Behind her, her tails ruffle and shiver like angered snakes.

For a moment, it looks as if Tyrunt might actually rise to the challenge, baring his own teeth and lowering himself to charge.

Sucking in a breath, Lee raises a hand and signals both Grovyle and Octillery, who both tense up. At the same time, he gets ready to jump out of the way if Tyrunt is foolish enough to try his luck.

At the very last second, though, Tyrunt seems to rethink his stance and backs down with a bitter, defiant snap of his jaws. He steps back and glares at Ninetales, defeated but unbowed, letting Ninetales dial back her defensive posture.

It's right then that Shelgon whips his whole body around and smashes Tyrunt right in the nose with his forehead, sending the prehistoric pokemon to the floor with a pained screech.

Zinnia, as casual as can be, steps over to her downed pokemon and stares down at him with disapproval. "Are you done?" She asks, voice flat.

Any sort of protest Tyrunt has dies in his throat when Shelgon takes Zinnia's right side. There's no anger on the shelled dragon's facejust apathy, as if Tyrunt isn't worth the notice.

Lee's body breaks out into goosebumps as he watches. 'It's one thing to hear Zinnia describe how Dragons operateit's another thing to see it.' He gulps, his stomach rolling a bit. 'I never liked dominance struggles when they pop up in nature, and I think I like them even less here.'

One of Ninetales' tails reaches back, wrapping itself around one of his legs in silent comfort.

Tyrunt rises back to his feet. His head is held low and submissive, but his eyes burn with frustration.

"Next time, don't be afraid to rough him up," Zinnia addresses Ninetales. "Tyrunt needs to learn his boundaries no matter how uncomfortable it makes Dolittle."

Lee schools his face into something more neutral at being called out, while Ninetales nods coolly.

"So, how did your end go?" Zinnia asks while seating herself on the edge of Lee's bed. "I've got a few leads after asking around. It's less than I wanted, but I'm going to count my outing as a success." Beside her, Shelgon lays down on his shell while Tyrunt submissively sits.

Pulling his eyes away from Tyrunt, Lee chews on his lip. "Everything went well, I suppose. Both myself and Brendan have legal weight to swing around. We can acquire warrants, perform lawful arrests, and conduct investigations like any police officer can, which I think is a little fucked." Lee shakes his head and leans back in his chair, stroking Shinx's back with a hand. "My lawyer is not fond of the idea of me being involved with anything, but she didn't drop me as a client, so I consider that a win."

"Ha!" Zinnia laughs. "Seems like everyone is clamoring to be your best friend except for the ones involved in law. There's gotta be some kind of takeaway in that."

"Yeah, that this boneheaded system wouldn't work if the trainers and pokemon didn't self-moderate themselves with mutual expectations of each other's character," Lee grunts. "Supposedly, issues are few and far between. The more I think about it, though, the more I think Amanda was right in her grievances."

Zinnia idly kicks her feet. "Maybe the League knew pokemon would be a good linchpin to ensure good behavior?" she speculates, coming to the same conclusion Lee did. "If it works, then it works."

"I guess," Lee concedes. "What did you learn while you were out?"

"A few things," Zinnia whips her phone out and unlocks it, opening it to a screen of shorthand notes. "Lavaridge is a hotspot for Magma, no pun intended," she grins and winks. "Usually, gangs don't like hanging around towns with Gym Leaders for obvious reasons, but you can find Magma thugs in the usual haunts pretty easily around here. Dive bars, shitty nightclubs, generally any grimy hangout. I barely need to doll myself up and small-time gangsters are lining up to schmooze with me."

Lee can't keep the frown off of his face at the imagery Zinnia's words invoke. "And you've been going to these places alone?"

Zinnia rolls her red eyes. "Save the chivalry for a princess, Dolittle. I keep my pokeballs out on display and that keeps guys from getting handsy." When Lee's dour face persists, she continues; "Lee, I'd bring you along, but I only need a change of clothes and a bit of make-up to be unrecognizable. You're way too high-profile to do anything covert. If I take you with me, you'll scare every Magma grunt into shutting up or just outright leaving any place we go to. Your face is" she pauses, seemingly searching for a word. "...Distinctive."

Lee opens his mouth to protest, only to realize he doesn't have a good counter-argument. All he can do is rub the scars on his face and curse under his breath. 'Yet again, I'm missing being a nobody.'

"Just leave this part to me." Zinnia's smile is reassuring, at least. "I got some good info last night and a bit today. With any luck, we'll have enough to act on soon."

"...Fine," Lee grumbles, waving for Zinnia to continue. "Please, keep going."

"Gladly!" Zinnia looks at her notes and scrolls the phone screen down with a thumb. "One guy with more ink than brain cells bragged about being a high-level grunt or something. He said he helped a Magma lieutenant move something heavy between warehouses here in Lavaridge a few weeks back, and mentioned the crates came in by ground with a bit of prodding, which narrows the list of answers for another little project of mine."

Lee raises an eyebrow. "Maybe we should finish what we're doing first before starting something else?"

"It ties into everything, promise!" The dragon tamer insists. "Anyway, they're moving things after dark and all that, and a little coincidence pops up when I look around to see if their movements line up with any kind of local events." She shifts her phone over to the browser and goes to the Lavaridge municipal website. From there, she pulls up a calendar built into the site and turns the screen to face Lee. "See anything odd?"

Lee and Shinx both lean in, even if Shinx has no idea what she's looking at. The rest of Lee's team step closer or angle themselves to better see as well.

On the calendar are a few events and notices, innocent things like local holidays and whatnot, but in red lettering are several notices saying: "Lift to Mt Chimney Out of Order." The next morning for each is another notice saying: "Lift to Mt Chimney repaired." There isn't a hard pattern, but the lift seems to go down once every five to ten days.

"The lift seems to be going down a lot," Lee scratches his chin. "Are these dates in-line with Magma's movements?"

Zinnia sighs. "I'm still trying to get exact dates, but one of these days, in particular, stands out." She taps one of the more recent occurrences on the screen with a finger. "That day we let Courtney out of our sight? The lift breaks. My gut is telling me something is off with that."

A frown returns to Lee's lips. Reclining back into a more comfortable position, he meets eyes with each one of his pokemon sans Shinx, who lays quietly in his lap. "That does seem suspect, but for obvious reasons, we can't interrogate her too much on where she was or why it matters."

"We can't squeeze Courtney for info, but we can squeeze everyone else, and that's where you come in, Lee." Zinnia smirks. "The Mount Chimney lift 'breaking' so often opens a window for us, meaning you, to come knocking about concerns of criminal negligence or sabotage. If all of this is connected like I think it is and the lift breaking is a smokescreen to move things to the volcano, then they have to have someone pulling strings to let them move things up there unnoticed."

Lee blows out a breath. "Seems like a bit of a leap to me, if I'm being honest," he says, silently feeling like a scumbag for going along with this song and dance. It would make everyone's lives easier if he could just tell Zinnia that he knows Magma is up to no good up there.

'I need to replay Pokemon Emerald soon, preferably tonight.' A sobering thought strikes Lee. 'If I don't refresh my memory and be ready for what's to come then telling everyone, or at least Zinnia, what I know might be the best move to make. We can't protect them otherwise.'

Ninetales, who is sitting in on her trainer's thoughts, speaks up. 'Lee, weigh that option carefully,' she says, wrapping a comforting, telepathic tendril of reassurance around his psyche. 'What is the saying? Once that genie is free of the bottle, it does not go back in.'

'I will, Nine. I will.'

The tendril of reassurance unfolds into a thick blanket, covering Lee with a warmth that he can practically feel on his skin. The mental conversation takes a split second, so Lee is able to return his attention outward in time for Zinnia's reply.

"Which is why I'm going to do more sleuthing until more pieces fall into place, then we can bust 'em!" Zinnia's smirk is traded for a full, nasty grin. "I've got a Magma goon a bit higher on the totem pole nice and hooked, and I'm meeting him for drinks tonight. If all goes well, he'll sing like a Swablu, so hang tight and I'll have more to work with tomorrow."

'Zinnia knows how to handle herself, don't worry too much,' Lee thinks to himself. The flash of jealousy from Ninetales is ignored. "Alright, and this other project involving Magma you mentioned?"

"For a while now" Zinnia crosses her legs. "I've been trying to triangulate the headquarters and ID the leaders of Magma and Aqua. Information from a few contacts and my own wandering has left me with an incomplete heatmap of their activity, and Lavaridge's Magma presence has me thinking that they may be based out of Lavaridge or somewhere in Mount Chimney. Since they're moving supplies by ground here, it would make sense to be in close proximity to the town."

'That's actually a good observation' Lee blinks. Lavaridge's awkward location in the center of Hoenn's main landmass must mean moving long-distance freight by ground is a chore. "Sharp eye."

"Thank you," Zinnia preens. "Moving on, Aqua has almost zero presence away from coastlines, and I'm fairly sure they're hiding out in either Lilycove City or another coastline city to the east. I still need to confirm that one, though. Aqua has been a pain in the ass to track since they love doing their dirty business out at sea and away from prying eyes."

"Makes sense" Lee nods. "Sounds like we have a game plan, then. I'll wait to hear back from you about your side. Business as usual until then?"

"Business as usual 'till then." Zinnia smiles, and it's a rare, genuine one that reaches all the way up to her eyes. "Thanks for all of this, Lee. I know we've had our rough patches, but I'm seriously glad we met. You're a damn good friend."

Lee smiles right back. "I could say the same about you."

Rising back to her feet, Zinnia beckons Shelgon and the still-sullen Tyrunt to follow. "I'm gonna go find a private training field to trash with Shelgon and Tyrunt. Wanna come with?"

"I've got a few things to take care of here, so maybe later."

"Suit yourself!" Zinnia waves over her shoulder as she and her pokemon leave.

Once the door closes behind them, Lee can finally stop ignoring the buzz of Ninetales' concentrated jealousy and give the fox a concerned stare. 'Love, what's the matter? Your temper has been way too short here recently.'

Ninetales cools her emotions, though Lee can easily notice how forced it is. 'It's no matter, Beloved.'

'I think it is,' Lee spins his laptop around to face Octillery. The octopus pokemon wastes no time tabbing back over to an online book he was reading before Lee commandeered the device. 'You were about ready to take May's face off when we had dinner with her and her friends, remember?'

After inviting Ash and his friends to join him and Ninetales for dinner, Lee led the newly expanded group to one of the many traditional Asian restaurants lining Lavaridge's streets. After being seated at a low table using cushions as seats and ordering their food, the group settled in for idle chatter as they waited. May, Brock, and Max took one side of the table while Lee, Ninetales, and Ash, who had no qualms about being in close proximity to a 'dangerous' pokemon, took the other. After failing to do so before, Lee decided to start things off by picking Brock's brain, easily sparking a conversation.

Because I'll fail again.

Kirlia grits his teeth and forces back tears. "Wally?" He asks quietly. "Would you love me even if I failed you? Failed you so bad, that what I failed at can't be fixed?"

"Of course!" Wally's answer is so instant that Corvisquire's laughter is cut short. "Always!"

"If" Kirlia gulps. "If you d-died, would you be upset if I found another trainer?"

"Never" The green-haired boy's eyes soften into something tender, something achingly familiar to Corvisquire. "Would you blame yourself and call yourself worthless if something did happen?"

Kirlia is quiet for a moment, as the very thought of Wally expiring seems to root the little psychic in place. "N-No."

"Why?"

"B-Because," Kirlia's red horns quiver and hum, his psychic powers venting the sheer emotion gripping him into the air. "Because I know you would want me to be happy, and I won't ruin your memory by wallowing in despair." He raises his head, staring directly into Corvisquire's eyes with such noble resolve that the raven is frozen on his feet. "Even if I sometimes hurt because someone is gone, I'll never be afraid to reach out again." Each word is like a hammer blow to Corvisquire. "Love is always worth it."

A stabbing pain erupts in Corvisquire's chest. He looks down, expecting a beak, a claw, or a knife coated in blood.

He's unmarred.

Why run?

I don't deserve love.

The world grows blurry.

They were outside a small town on the second week of their journey when the first attack hit. The Young Master couldn't catch his breath after a run alongside Rookidee, eager to be back in civilization. He fell to his rear, gasping along the side of the road.

Rookidee did exactly as he was trained. Deft in both beak and talon, he opened his master's bag, located the inhaler the Lord of the Manor insisted the Young Master carry, and pressed it into the boy's hands.

The Young Master's shaking hands bring the inhaler up, and with an inhaled puff, the peril passes. Breathing a sigh of relief, the Master strokes Rookiedee along his head. "Oh, Rook. You really are the best."

Rookidee doesn't puff up under the praise. He's simply doing as the First and Most Faithful should. Silently, though, he will never tire of his master's love.

The attacks are growing more frequent in the third month of their sojourn. The Young Master led them through winding woods and fantastic new cities, but often he needed to pause to catch his breath and sometimes use his inhaler. When they returned to the civilized world, Rookidee took it upon himself to write reminders to the Young Master to refill his prescription.

A younger, more childish Rookidee bemoaned the lessons in literacy, art, and chivalry he spent with the Young Master, but now the ability to write has never been more valuable.

The inhaler medication is an uncommon one, one not always available in the more humble towns, so Rookidee always ensures there is enough in the Young Master's possession.

Despite his ailment, Young Master is so bright, so happy to be given the freedom to see beautiful Galar, and to share the experience with Rookidee. They didn't challenge the Gyms, or the Contest Halls. No, they were content with the travel, the fun, and the companionship of each other. For a boy of such noble privilege and wealth, the Young Master's ability to find joy in the small things left Rookidee in awe sometimes. He repaid his master's love one day in a battle, showing off Swift, a move he practiced in private as a surprise.

The Young Master's delight filled Rookidee with a wondrous sense of purpose.

With such happiness abound, why does it feel like a cloud hangs overhead?

It was month six.

He collapsed, inhaler falling from limp fingers.

Rookidee didn't panic. He held the inhaler to the Young Master's lips and administered the medicine himself.

It didn't work. They're hours away from the nearest town.

Rookidee tried to carry his Master, gripping the boy's shirt with his talons, but he was too weak to fly with such a load. He cursed himself and his weakness endlessly.

He yanked the SOS cord in the side of the Young Master's wristwatch, and the thing made a terrible wail. The screen flashed, saying help is on the way.

Was it hours or minutes? Hours or minutes, it didn't matter, it all came together into a terrible blur.

A helicopter escorted by a contingent of Corviknight landed nearby.

'Terminal.'

'Cerebral hypoxia.'

'Brain damage.'

'Nothing can be done.'

Words and phrases he's heard for weeks now. In the critical time it took for help to arrive, the Young Master stopped breathing for over five minutes.

Motostoke Children's Hospital scrambled when a young noble boy on a ventilator was rushed into their midst. Some of the brightest minds of Galar resided here, and through them Rookidee's world shattered.

A cancer, one that attacks specific cells in the lungs, was growing beneath the noses of everyone inside the Young Master. His lungs were losing their ability to process oxygen, and had been for years now. His childhood asthma was a gross misdiagnosis.

For all the wonders in the world of medicine, nothing can be done if it's too late.

The Lady of the Manor was inconsolable, and the Lord of the Manor stood with her, hiding his agony behind a wall more stalwart than any castle.

Day in and day out, Rookidee stood at his Master's hospital bed, remaining at his side like the First and Most Faithful should. The Young Master's sleeping face, once full of life, was now pale and gaunt beneath his oxygen mask, ravaged by harsh medicines. The Young Master could wither into an ugly, inert peppercorn, and it wouldn't matter to Rookidee.

He'll be here, at his side.

That is the duty of the First and Most Faithful.

They killed him. They pulled the plug. The instant Rookidee left his side for a day, recalled to the Manor by his Lord, the order was given and the Young Master's life support was cut.

Nothing can be done.

The line plagues him, clawing at his very being like a rabid Zangoose.

Nothing can be done.

They did it on purpose, calling him back. They wanted him away so he couldn't stop them.

Nothing can be done.

On the desk of the Lord of the Manner, Rookidee stands, staring blankly into the polished wood. Everything is numb, and he feels as if he's observing himself from the eyes of another. Stoutland and the Lord are there, and both forgive his abhorrent decorum. "I don't want him to die." The words leave his beak almost automatically. "There must have been something I could have done..."

"Rookidee" The Lord of the Manor's hand falls upon Rookidee's head. It's heavy and worn, totally unlike the Young Master's hand. "You are hurt, as we all are, but you must understand" The Lord of the Manor steels himself. "He was never going to wake up, and his illness would have taken him before long. Nothing was working, so do not blame yourself. You can't do anything."

Everything turns into a blur. With the snap of a pokeball's hinge and the shatter of glass, Rookidee flies. Inside him, the love fostered by his Master turns into a Seviper and sinks its toxic red fangs into him.

Nothing can be done.

You can't do anything.

Anywhere, anywhere but here. He flies, heedless of all else but getting away.

Nothing can be done.

You can't do anything.

There is only blue ocean below now.

Nothing can be done.

You can't do anything.

Light envelopes him, and anguish breaks his body, molding it into something new mid-air. From the shell of despair, Corvisquire feels the fires of anger grow within, suffusing his limbs with new and incredible might.

Why couldn't this happen when his Master needed help?! Why evolve now?! Why?!

Nothing can be done.

You can't do anything.

Corvisquire screams. Below, the water passes in a supersonic blur.

He flies, heedless of all else but getting away.

Nothing can be done.

You can't do anything.

He ran away like a coward.

There is green below. His wings can flap no more as the ground rushes up to greet him.

With any luck, he will die on impact.

It's not your fault.

Even if I sometimes hurt because someone is gone, I'll never be afraid to reach out again.

"Mister Corvisquire?"

The world comes back into sharp focus with a gasp. Looking up, Corvisquire takes in Wally and Kirlia without actually seeing them.

Kirlia steps forward, reaching a hesitant hand out. "Mister Corvisquire?"

The confusing whirl of memories and words leaves Corvisquire's head swimming. It takes longer than he cares to admit to steady himself. "What?" he asks, hoarse. There is no surge of rage to return him to lucidity.

"AreAre you okay?" Wally twiddles his fingers together. "You were screaming."

"Was I?" Corvisquire swallows thickly. "Oh."

Kirlia pulls his hand back, seemingly unsure if he wants to approach. "Are you okay?" He repeats Wally's question.

It's not your fault.

Even if I sometimes hurt because someone is gone, I'll never be afraid to reach out again.

"Do you believe what you said?" Corvisquire asks, looking at the grass.

Both Wally and Kirlia blink.

"Your little speech," Corvisquire cannot even ruffle his feathers. The anger simply won't come to him. "Were you speaking from the heart?"

Kirlia sets his shoulders and nods. "Every single word."

"And do you thi-"

"It's not your fault," Kirlia cuts Corvisquire off. The psychic's face is understanding, and the raven can't bring himself to hate it.

Mind awhirl, Corvisquire stares at the ground. A thousand thoughts plague him like biting insects, all demanding his attention. Through his mind's eye, things come and go, but a pair of faces stand out.

He sees the Young Master, and the boy's smile is more radiant than the sun. It's free of judgment. In those youthful, trusting eyes is love.

He sees Lee Henson. The scar-laden smile speaks of pain, pain both he and Corvisquire understand. In those weary, haggard eyes is love.

He ran away from both.

Even if I sometimes hurt because someone is gone, I'll never be afraid to reach out again.

Love is always worth it.

'I don't want to run anymore.'

"Listen and listen well," Corvisquire raises his head, leveling Wally and Kirlia with as stern a stare as he can. "In a tree sixty-seven meters south, the one with equal amounts of ivy and moss on its western flank, there is a Dawn Stone hidden in the knothole of the trunk. I stole it for you."

Both Wally and Kirlia gasp, visibly shocked. "Is that the stone Uncle was talking about? The one that the newspaper said went missing?" Wally asks Kirlia, apparently too startled to use telepathy.

"Use it, return it, leave it for someone else, I don't care," Corvisquire sniffs. "Your lessons with me are over. I have an obligation to return to, and I will not hear any stupid begging."

The pair of children get over the admission of theft quickly, and to Corvisquire's surprise, neither argue. "We understand," Kirlia smiles, and damn it, the raven wants to strangle him. "Are you going back to your new trainer?"

Corvisquire snaps his beak. "Yes, are you happy?"

Wally once more produces that heartache-inducing smile. "We are. Oh, Mister Corvisquire?" He calls when Corvisquire spreads his wings. "We'll miss you."

The Flying-type sighs. "For what it's worth You two weren't totally hopeless."

Their childish faces light up.

Corvisquire doesn't stay around to hear any goodbyes or hear their reply, as he flaps his wings and rockets into the air, his heart thundering in his chest. Yawing to the side, he orients himself north, towards Mount Chimney.

Then he flies. Resolve, and just a little hope, fills each stroke of his wings.