Legend of the Exile
Chapter 38: Twin Lights
One of red and one of blue
You love him as he loves you
Weapons forged with symmetry
They light the way to destiny
You love him as he loves you
Weapons forged with symmetry
They light the way to destiny
Foggy, light rain descended as the patrol moved up the grassy road, crossing once-peaceful fields with broken white fences, wildflowers along the banks of trickling streams. Anxious and damp, the Raichu kept his eyes to the road ahead, ignoring the mist-wreathed wilderness thriving around him, where time slowed and memories stagnated.
In the distance waited the ruins of the Mauville complex, unrecognizable from the proud citadel it had been less than a year ago. Sunken lattice-towers cast skeletal shadows over the scorched gardens, melted glass doors replaced with thick steel shutters. Rusted coils of barbed wire surrounded the white archway.
"Hope you're ready, Fabian," said Wyrn to the Growlithe. The Buizel had a paw at his rapier as he squeezed past concrete roadblocks. "This place looks nasty." The dog sniffed the air and scowled; Sparktail didn't have to wonder why. The air was permeated with the Exile's stench, growing stronger as they approached.
"And this was such a nice town, too," muttered Amber, shaking her head as they approached the walls. Every Pokemon was on edge now; they could not hear their enemies from within the walls, could not sense what traps might be waiting for them to spring. "Look at what they've built."
Above the entrance, someone had etched a familiar hexagonal symbol. There was something familiar about this place, though Sparktail knew he hadn't been here before. Rows of prefabcricated houses reminded him of Sootopolis, in the days before the mountain-city fell. "Maybe humans set those up," said the Raichu tentatively, glancing around.
"Those scary things? No way," scoffed the Zangoose next to him. She seemed determined to regain face after Verdanturf, as if embarrassed to show her concern for the Lairon. The Raichu stepped away from her; he was afraid of her, and he didn't even know her name.
"Sparktail's right for once, actually," said Shock from the front of the patrol. Blinking, the others stared at the Manectric as he approached the steel shutters.
He threw back his head, and a blue flash flew from his body and struck the lock, which sizzled and clicked open, before the "Whatever use Giratina is putting these facilities to now, he didn't build them. They were set up by my master, Sir Watson."
In the distance waited the ruins of the Mauville complex, unrecognizable from the proud citadel it had been less than a year ago. Sunken lattice-towers cast skeletal shadows over the scorched gardens, melted glass doors replaced with thick steel shutters. Rusted coils of barbed wire surrounded the white archway.
"Hope you're ready, Fabian," said Wyrn to the Growlithe. The Buizel had a paw at his rapier as he squeezed past concrete roadblocks. "This place looks nasty." The dog sniffed the air and scowled; Sparktail didn't have to wonder why. The air was permeated with the Exile's stench, growing stronger as they approached.
"And this was such a nice town, too," muttered Amber, shaking her head as they approached the walls. Every Pokemon was on edge now; they could not hear their enemies from within the walls, could not sense what traps might be waiting for them to spring. "Look at what they've built."
Above the entrance, someone had etched a familiar hexagonal symbol. There was something familiar about this place, though Sparktail knew he hadn't been here before. Rows of prefabcricated houses reminded him of Sootopolis, in the days before the mountain-city fell. "Maybe humans set those up," said the Raichu tentatively, glancing around.
"Those scary things? No way," scoffed the Zangoose next to him. She seemed determined to regain face after Verdanturf, as if embarrassed to show her concern for the Lairon. The Raichu stepped away from her; he was afraid of her, and he didn't even know her name.
"Sparktail's right for once, actually," said Shock from the front of the patrol. Blinking, the others stared at the Manectric as he approached the steel shutters.
He threw back his head, and a blue flash flew from his body and struck the lock, which sizzled and clicked open, before the "Whatever use Giratina is putting these facilities to now, he didn't build them. They were set up by my master, Sir Watson."
Within the mountain, the air was thick and humid as a sauna. Passing by other corridors cut deep into the rock walls, Thalia and the others followed Torrid, Hephaestus, and Shanala down the volcano's central corridor, barely illuminated by wall lanterns that flickered and glowed like coals.
The floor was dotted with miniature craters that spewed geysers of scalding steam. Thalia kept her head low as Hephaestus openly greeted his fellow Vulcanites, as the Leafeon had no desire to make contact with these soldiers of fire.
Surrounded by heat and flame; this truly was no place for a Leafeon. But hadn't Slick gone through this place before? These tunnels wound through the molten flames brewing beneath Mount Chimney. Slick must've definitely been here, thought Thalia. He must've had Insyte, Rush, Shanala, and Sparktail at his side.
Thinking of a younger Sparktail passing through this place with Slick comforted her slightly, and the Leafeon relaxed somewhat. Besides, the Sneasel looked even more uncomfortable in the sweltering heat than she did.
At several occasions, the tunnel was blocked off with a large boulder. Either Hephaestus would set his skull to the boulder and shove them out of the way, or Torrid would draw back a fiery fist and shatter the rock with sheer force, revealing another passageway forward.
Torkoals, Combuskens, Numels, Vulpixes, Macargoes, Charmeleons, and the occasional Quilava scurried around them. The Leafeon had a feeling that the passageway led upward, but still the dim lighting felt as if they were descending further and further into the earth.
At last, Torrid smashed one final boulder to reveal the entrance of a spacious cavern, the others shielding their eyes from the spray of rock shrapnel. One-by-one, they emerged from the rock wall of the well-lit chamber and dropped down to the floor, coated with soot and dust that Thalia hadn't even noticed in the darkness of the tunnels.
Landing on the ground with a thump, the Leafeon shook the dust from her pelt, then glanced up around the room. She took in the coal-lit walls with racks of weapons, the dark passageways leading off towards unknown chambers, and a shallow magma pool against the far wall. A large slab of blackened steel was erected in the center of the room, a two-foot anvil resting atop the square column.
"Ah, I haven't been in the forge for ages," sighed Hephaestus, landing with a shuddering impact that caused the others to cringe, including Shanala. Torrid, Coals, and the Combuskens, however, applauded the Camerupt heartily as he padded over to the massive anvil, which was nearly as tall as him.
"Thalia, Lane, Speedster, Ketrail; I really do 'preciate Shock's kindness in giving me escorts," rumbled the Camerupt, turning his fiery gaze upon the four. "To repay all that, we're gonna help you guys out now, just in case you run into those 'krows again. All right now! Get yore' hammer, Torrid, and let's get smithing. Patrol dismissed!"
As the Vulcanite soldiers filed out of the room, Torrid took a heavy sledgehammer off the wall, then fetched a tied bundle of metal ore. Recoiling from the magma pool, Thalia watched as the Blaziken strode back to Hephaestus and the high steel pedestal, beginning to grapple his way up the pillar. "What's going on?" she asked, twitching her ears and glancing to Shanala as the other Vulcanites exited.
"Torrid is a blacksmith," said the Ninetales, not taking her gaze from Torrid and Hephaestus as the Blaziken set a metal grille over one of Hephaestus' geysers, then lay chunks of metal across the grille. "With his great strength and Hephaestus as his forge, he is one of the finest crafters in the country."
"Wait," blurted out Speedster. Amused, Shanala looked down towards the Eevee, who glanced back and forth between Torrid and the Ninetales. "Shouldn't Hephaestus be the smith, not the forge?"
"Have you ever heard of a Camerupt using a Blaziken as a forge, boy?" laughed Torrid, his voice merry as the chunks of ore began to turn red-hot. Startled, Thalia and her friends all glanced up to see the Blaziken waving down towards them. "You people might wanna wait outside while we finish. This'll just be a few hours!"
The floor was dotted with miniature craters that spewed geysers of scalding steam. Thalia kept her head low as Hephaestus openly greeted his fellow Vulcanites, as the Leafeon had no desire to make contact with these soldiers of fire.
Surrounded by heat and flame; this truly was no place for a Leafeon. But hadn't Slick gone through this place before? These tunnels wound through the molten flames brewing beneath Mount Chimney. Slick must've definitely been here, thought Thalia. He must've had Insyte, Rush, Shanala, and Sparktail at his side.
Thinking of a younger Sparktail passing through this place with Slick comforted her slightly, and the Leafeon relaxed somewhat. Besides, the Sneasel looked even more uncomfortable in the sweltering heat than she did.
At several occasions, the tunnel was blocked off with a large boulder. Either Hephaestus would set his skull to the boulder and shove them out of the way, or Torrid would draw back a fiery fist and shatter the rock with sheer force, revealing another passageway forward.
Torkoals, Combuskens, Numels, Vulpixes, Macargoes, Charmeleons, and the occasional Quilava scurried around them. The Leafeon had a feeling that the passageway led upward, but still the dim lighting felt as if they were descending further and further into the earth.
At last, Torrid smashed one final boulder to reveal the entrance of a spacious cavern, the others shielding their eyes from the spray of rock shrapnel. One-by-one, they emerged from the rock wall of the well-lit chamber and dropped down to the floor, coated with soot and dust that Thalia hadn't even noticed in the darkness of the tunnels.
Landing on the ground with a thump, the Leafeon shook the dust from her pelt, then glanced up around the room. She took in the coal-lit walls with racks of weapons, the dark passageways leading off towards unknown chambers, and a shallow magma pool against the far wall. A large slab of blackened steel was erected in the center of the room, a two-foot anvil resting atop the square column.
"Ah, I haven't been in the forge for ages," sighed Hephaestus, landing with a shuddering impact that caused the others to cringe, including Shanala. Torrid, Coals, and the Combuskens, however, applauded the Camerupt heartily as he padded over to the massive anvil, which was nearly as tall as him.
"Thalia, Lane, Speedster, Ketrail; I really do 'preciate Shock's kindness in giving me escorts," rumbled the Camerupt, turning his fiery gaze upon the four. "To repay all that, we're gonna help you guys out now, just in case you run into those 'krows again. All right now! Get yore' hammer, Torrid, and let's get smithing. Patrol dismissed!"
As the Vulcanite soldiers filed out of the room, Torrid took a heavy sledgehammer off the wall, then fetched a tied bundle of metal ore. Recoiling from the magma pool, Thalia watched as the Blaziken strode back to Hephaestus and the high steel pedestal, beginning to grapple his way up the pillar. "What's going on?" she asked, twitching her ears and glancing to Shanala as the other Vulcanites exited.
"Torrid is a blacksmith," said the Ninetales, not taking her gaze from Torrid and Hephaestus as the Blaziken set a metal grille over one of Hephaestus' geysers, then lay chunks of metal across the grille. "With his great strength and Hephaestus as his forge, he is one of the finest crafters in the country."
"Wait," blurted out Speedster. Amused, Shanala looked down towards the Eevee, who glanced back and forth between Torrid and the Ninetales. "Shouldn't Hephaestus be the smith, not the forge?"
"Have you ever heard of a Camerupt using a Blaziken as a forge, boy?" laughed Torrid, his voice merry as the chunks of ore began to turn red-hot. Startled, Thalia and her friends all glanced up to see the Blaziken waving down towards them. "You people might wanna wait outside while we finish. This'll just be a few hours!"
The Raichu stared at Shock as the Retrievers padded through the complex, turning a corner. Wattson! He remembered Slick's encounter with the manager of Mauville's development, surprisingly cheerful for his age, a gently yipping Electrike by his side. A younger Shock, realized Sparktail. And not only younger, but happy and carefree.
At the patrol's front, Fabian and the Zangoose bombarded Shock with questions, but no answers came. Did the Manectric miss his master? Or did he welcome the freedom?
Sparktail looked down at the floor as they turned a corner, wondering silently. Had Shock been there when his master died? Or had he been separated, like Lyther? The war must have hardened him, reshaped him...
They had covered over a quarter of the city, and still no sign of enemies. Surely Giratina didn't leave this place unguarded? His fur standing up, Sparktail stared as they passed Rydel's Cycles, blood and flesh mixed with strewn bicycle parts. "Fabian, Sparktail, check inside," ordered Shock, nodding to them.
Glancing nervously to the Growlithe, the Raichu followed him into the empty shop apprehensively. At first glance, it was no different from any other place touched by Giratina; fallen bodies of both human and Pokemon, debris strewn around the floor. Then, as he lit up his tail, the Raichu froze.
In the dim light, he caught the glint of a large steel cage that took up the entire back of the bicycle shop. He hadn't even realized the interior was so large until then. "Kirlias," muttered Fabian as he stepped toward the cage, his fur bristling. Sure enough, in the dark corners of the cage lay two or three Kirlias, all emaciated and barely breathing. "What's happened to them..."
"They're almost dead," said a voice. Drawing his blade, Sparktail spun around as a Breloom emerged from the shadows, his eyes grim. "There were more here, before, but they're all that's left."
There was a slight twinge of fear in the Breloom's eyes as he saw Sparktail; then it was gone. "It's all right," said the Pokemon, raising his hands as a dim fire began to glow in Fabian's throat. "I'm on your side. The Retrievers' side."
His heart pounding, Sparktail glanced around as a Mawile, an Azumarill, a Nosepass, and five others emerged from hiding, joining the Breloom. They didn't smell like the Exile's soldiers, but still...
"The name's Heroc," said the Breloom, a quarterstaff on his back. His eyes were still on the Raichu and the Growlithe. "Hm—You look just like him—but of course you aren't him-"
"What's the holdup?" demanded Shock's voice afrom outside the shop. "Sparktail, Fabian, why haven't you reported..." The Manectric trailed off the rest of his patrol clustered behind him. There was a small crackle, and all the Pokemon inside flinched as bright light flooded into the room from Shock's glowing fur. "Heroc! What're you doing here?"
There was a brief silence as the two patrols stared at each other. Nervous, Sparktail carefully put his sword away as Amber and the Mawile gave each other stern looks. "Shock," said Heroc with a nod, stepping forward to shake the Manectric's paw. "I'm afraid you're a bit late to the party. We cleaned the place out last night."
The Retrievers stared as Shock and the Breloom circled each other. "I thought you were dead," said the Manectric finally, still staring at the other patrol captain.
"Latias saved me, but that's old news," replied Heroc, glancing back to the Kirlias in the large cage behind Sparktail. "Look, you can't be here. They'll be back at any moment—"
"Latias? And who's coming back?" demanded Shock, stepping over to the cage, staring at the barely-conscious Pokemon still locked inside, his breath growing hard, his eyes narrowing. "By thunder... What's happened in here? The keys, someone find the keys. What's going on here, Heroc?"
Trembling, the Mawile stepped over to Shock, clutching a ring of keys. "The ones in charge of this place," said the Breloom heavily as the Mawile unlocked and opened the cage. "The ones who massacred Dewford, and captured every Kirlia from Rustboro to Lilycove for their sick little games."
Gasps rose from Delia and the rest of Shock's patrol. Sparktail felt a cold chill down his spine as Shock looked sharply to Heroc; he had never seen such fear in the Manectric's eyes. "No mistaking it," said the Breloom darkly, balancing the staff over his shoulder. "The Hexwraiths are here in Hoenn."
At the patrol's front, Fabian and the Zangoose bombarded Shock with questions, but no answers came. Did the Manectric miss his master? Or did he welcome the freedom?
Sparktail looked down at the floor as they turned a corner, wondering silently. Had Shock been there when his master died? Or had he been separated, like Lyther? The war must have hardened him, reshaped him...
They had covered over a quarter of the city, and still no sign of enemies. Surely Giratina didn't leave this place unguarded? His fur standing up, Sparktail stared as they passed Rydel's Cycles, blood and flesh mixed with strewn bicycle parts. "Fabian, Sparktail, check inside," ordered Shock, nodding to them.
Glancing nervously to the Growlithe, the Raichu followed him into the empty shop apprehensively. At first glance, it was no different from any other place touched by Giratina; fallen bodies of both human and Pokemon, debris strewn around the floor. Then, as he lit up his tail, the Raichu froze.
In the dim light, he caught the glint of a large steel cage that took up the entire back of the bicycle shop. He hadn't even realized the interior was so large until then. "Kirlias," muttered Fabian as he stepped toward the cage, his fur bristling. Sure enough, in the dark corners of the cage lay two or three Kirlias, all emaciated and barely breathing. "What's happened to them..."
"They're almost dead," said a voice. Drawing his blade, Sparktail spun around as a Breloom emerged from the shadows, his eyes grim. "There were more here, before, but they're all that's left."
There was a slight twinge of fear in the Breloom's eyes as he saw Sparktail; then it was gone. "It's all right," said the Pokemon, raising his hands as a dim fire began to glow in Fabian's throat. "I'm on your side. The Retrievers' side."
His heart pounding, Sparktail glanced around as a Mawile, an Azumarill, a Nosepass, and five others emerged from hiding, joining the Breloom. They didn't smell like the Exile's soldiers, but still...
"The name's Heroc," said the Breloom, a quarterstaff on his back. His eyes were still on the Raichu and the Growlithe. "Hm—You look just like him—but of course you aren't him-"
"What's the holdup?" demanded Shock's voice afrom outside the shop. "Sparktail, Fabian, why haven't you reported..." The Manectric trailed off the rest of his patrol clustered behind him. There was a small crackle, and all the Pokemon inside flinched as bright light flooded into the room from Shock's glowing fur. "Heroc! What're you doing here?"
There was a brief silence as the two patrols stared at each other. Nervous, Sparktail carefully put his sword away as Amber and the Mawile gave each other stern looks. "Shock," said Heroc with a nod, stepping forward to shake the Manectric's paw. "I'm afraid you're a bit late to the party. We cleaned the place out last night."
The Retrievers stared as Shock and the Breloom circled each other. "I thought you were dead," said the Manectric finally, still staring at the other patrol captain.
"Latias saved me, but that's old news," replied Heroc, glancing back to the Kirlias in the large cage behind Sparktail. "Look, you can't be here. They'll be back at any moment—"
"Latias? And who's coming back?" demanded Shock, stepping over to the cage, staring at the barely-conscious Pokemon still locked inside, his breath growing hard, his eyes narrowing. "By thunder... What's happened in here? The keys, someone find the keys. What's going on here, Heroc?"
Trembling, the Mawile stepped over to Shock, clutching a ring of keys. "The ones in charge of this place," said the Breloom heavily as the Mawile unlocked and opened the cage. "The ones who massacred Dewford, and captured every Kirlia from Rustboro to Lilycove for their sick little games."
Gasps rose from Delia and the rest of Shock's patrol. Sparktail felt a cold chill down his spine as Shock looked sharply to Heroc; he had never seen such fear in the Manectric's eyes. "No mistaking it," said the Breloom darkly, balancing the staff over his shoulder. "The Hexwraiths are here in Hoenn."
The hot wind ruffled through the Flareon's fur. Gazing down from a black precipice, Insyte gazed down into the broiling magma, below, flanked by upright stone formations with his crest. From the moment he arrived, the Vulcanites had watched him with awe and joy, and the Flareon did not know why their expressions troubled him.
He heard footsteps approaching from behind, accompanied by heavy breathing. "Hephaestus might've gotten back from the far end of the land without a break, but I could use a breather every now and then," puffed Torrid, sitting down on a nearby rock. His avian features gave him a stern expression; but for a bird, he was quite jovial.
The Flareon smiled faintly. "He's probably just extremely relieved to be home," said the lord of the Vulcanites, memories replaying in his mind. Descent into darkness, rising into light, ascending Cinnabar Island. So many people had believed in him all along, helped him along the way. His parents, Shanala, Rush, Ferricia, Lyther, Sparktail, Thalia, Jirachi... And yet something still felt missing, unfulfilled.
"There's a force in the air, though," said the Blaziken. "Something strange and pow'rful, an ancient power that riles up the magma below. Something I suspect had to do with one of those Retrievers. Not so much like a hammer, mind you, more like a wall."
"I'll look into it," said Insyte, turning to stare down into the crater. "But I'll be honest here. I know that everyone counts on me for some reason. The Vulcanite League only united under me because I killed Heatran, and because of the prophecy surrounding my birth. And I know Hephaestus only returned to the volcano because of me. That I was only able to enter the volcano because I was not Heatran. But why? What did Heatran do, to violate the trust of the Lavaridge Vulcanites?"
There was a long pause. "He bound us," said the Blaziken. "He tried to control us with rigid laws, just as he tried to control the other Vulcanite conclaves. He forced us to pay tribute to him; he told us how we ought to operate." Torrid moved over to a rock pillar, tracing a jagged symbol with a claw-talon. "He tried to control our mines and our trading posts, and forced out the strongest of us. That's how I became master blacksmith, you could say."
The Flareon nodded, eyes studying Torrid's stature. He decided not to ask about the previous master blacksmith, for now. "So what these Vulcanites want from me, then, is their freedom," said Insyte, looking up to the starry sky. "You want to live as you please, to regain the trading power that was lost. You don't want me to regulate your lives."
This seemed easy and reasonable. The Vulcanites at Cinnabar had needed the opposite solution; their social structure had been lost for so long that Insyte was forced to rebuild it from scratch. But here... "I understand," said the Flareon, frowning. "What you really want me to do... is to do nothing."
He heard footsteps approaching from behind, accompanied by heavy breathing. "Hephaestus might've gotten back from the far end of the land without a break, but I could use a breather every now and then," puffed Torrid, sitting down on a nearby rock. His avian features gave him a stern expression; but for a bird, he was quite jovial.
The Flareon smiled faintly. "He's probably just extremely relieved to be home," said the lord of the Vulcanites, memories replaying in his mind. Descent into darkness, rising into light, ascending Cinnabar Island. So many people had believed in him all along, helped him along the way. His parents, Shanala, Rush, Ferricia, Lyther, Sparktail, Thalia, Jirachi... And yet something still felt missing, unfulfilled.
"There's a force in the air, though," said the Blaziken. "Something strange and pow'rful, an ancient power that riles up the magma below. Something I suspect had to do with one of those Retrievers. Not so much like a hammer, mind you, more like a wall."
"I'll look into it," said Insyte, turning to stare down into the crater. "But I'll be honest here. I know that everyone counts on me for some reason. The Vulcanite League only united under me because I killed Heatran, and because of the prophecy surrounding my birth. And I know Hephaestus only returned to the volcano because of me. That I was only able to enter the volcano because I was not Heatran. But why? What did Heatran do, to violate the trust of the Lavaridge Vulcanites?"
There was a long pause. "He bound us," said the Blaziken. "He tried to control us with rigid laws, just as he tried to control the other Vulcanite conclaves. He forced us to pay tribute to him; he told us how we ought to operate." Torrid moved over to a rock pillar, tracing a jagged symbol with a claw-talon. "He tried to control our mines and our trading posts, and forced out the strongest of us. That's how I became master blacksmith, you could say."
The Flareon nodded, eyes studying Torrid's stature. He decided not to ask about the previous master blacksmith, for now. "So what these Vulcanites want from me, then, is their freedom," said Insyte, looking up to the starry sky. "You want to live as you please, to regain the trading power that was lost. You don't want me to regulate your lives."
This seemed easy and reasonable. The Vulcanites at Cinnabar had needed the opposite solution; their social structure had been lost for so long that Insyte was forced to rebuild it from scratch. But here... "I understand," said the Flareon, frowning. "What you really want me to do... is to do nothing."
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"The Wurmples weren't glad to see us," said Heroc to Shock as Fabian and several others helped to carry the Kirlias into the central square. "They were well-fed and felt safe in their cages. Didn't know that they were just being fattened up for Giratina's soldiers."
In the pale light, Sparktail got a better look at the other Retrievers; eight under Heroc and eight under Shock, though it had seemed like more. The Retrievers under Heroc each gave the Raichu strange looks, then glanced away indifferently when they came close enough to smell him.
A few feet away, Delia watched in dismay as Wyrn and Sheltur laid a Kirlia on the grass. "So how'd you convince the Wurmples to go?" Shock asked Heroc in a low voice, scanning Mauville's upper levels. Sparktail thought he could see pain flicker in the Manectric's eyes. "Or are they still here? Waiting for the Hexwraiths to eat them?"
"Well, we kicked them out," admitted the Breloom as a Clefable from his patrol listened to the Kirlia's pulse. "They didn't want to go, see; afraid of predators. But we told them that, you know, they'd all die here anyway, and they had a better chance of surviving out in the wild." He shook his head, grimacing. "Maybe not, though..."
There was a grim silence as the Retrievers stared at each other. An eerie tingle ran down Sparktail's spine, setting his fur on end; the rain was returning, cold gray clouds drifting across the sun. Glancing up, he felt the wind grow cold and hazy, the chill slowly slipping through his fur.
"Damnit," muttered Shock, glancing up to the sky with crackling blue eyes as Wyrn shivered next to him. "Claws up, arms out! Circle around." Sparktail drew his sword as both patrols gathered in a circle around the three Kirlias, shivering. The Zangoose raised her claws as Wyrn drew his rapier, Sheltur puffing his chest.
A swirling gray fog was forming in the heavy rain overhead. Hot embers bloomed from the sides of the Growlithe's mouth as a Phanpy lifted his trunk to the air, a Poochyena baring his teeth. The Mawile poised her black jaws as Heroc raised his staff, a Chikorita readying her head-leaf as a Plusle hopped up onto Amber's shoulder.
"Get out," snarled Shock as they saw the glowing red lights of Dusknoir eyes emerging from the cloud. Sparktail glanced to the Manectric, surprised; his captain seemed to have lost his restraint. "Get out of my city!"
Mauville's walls loomed over the Retrievers threateningly as the cold fog bore down on the town square. Remembering the grisly sight at Pal Park, Sparktail's thoughts flew to Thalia. Though he was afraid of what the Hexwraiths could do to her, he couldn't help wishing, once again, that she was with him.
And then, disaster struck with blinding speed, faster than Sparktail's eyes could see. One moment, Shock stood strong with the rest of the patrol; the next moment, the Manectric was flung to the ground with a nasty crack. "Sonofa-" yowled Delia, darting toward Shock with wide eyes as Heroc glanced back in alarm.
Clenching his teeth, the Raichu's eyes scanned the swirling gray haze for their mysterious adversaries, but could make out nothing- not the Mauville, not the ones who had attacked Shock, not their leader- nothing but the glowing red lights. Tail lashing at the ground, he leapt forward and slashed down—and was immediately flung back to the ground, his sword splashing the mud a few feet away.
Retrievers sprang forward as they felt the eerie gray mist on their fur, crimson lights hovering within the fog. Blades and claws swished; fire, ice, razor leaves; Sparktail felt around for his sword frantically as the others lashed at the Dusknoirs, shadow-balls bursting open on the ground.
The Raichu heard Wyrn's war cry as the Dusknoirs advanced with deep, ominous voices. Ducking under a Hexwraith's swipe, he thrust up with his sword, feeling the steel tremble as it struck the Dusknoir's shell; but he felt terrified in the fog, unable to pinpoint that weak spot--
"Excellent work, wraiths," hissed a harsh voice that froze Sparktail in place, his teammates glancing sharply to him, the speaker lost in the swirling fog. "Now return to me...!"
"No! Who are you? What's going on?!" he shouted furiously as the fog retreated from the muddy road as suddenly as it had come. He strained his ears for the sound of footsteps, but could hear nothing above the rain; he squinted into the haze, but they had left no footsteps. Sodden and shaking, he was left standing among the weary Retrievers, his sword still ringing.
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"The Wurmples weren't glad to see us," said Heroc to Shock as Fabian and several others helped to carry the Kirlias into the central square. "They were well-fed and felt safe in their cages. Didn't know that they were just being fattened up for Giratina's soldiers."
In the pale light, Sparktail got a better look at the other Retrievers; eight under Heroc and eight under Shock, though it had seemed like more. The Retrievers under Heroc each gave the Raichu strange looks, then glanced away indifferently when they came close enough to smell him.
A few feet away, Delia watched in dismay as Wyrn and Sheltur laid a Kirlia on the grass. "So how'd you convince the Wurmples to go?" Shock asked Heroc in a low voice, scanning Mauville's upper levels. Sparktail thought he could see pain flicker in the Manectric's eyes. "Or are they still here? Waiting for the Hexwraiths to eat them?"
"Well, we kicked them out," admitted the Breloom as a Clefable from his patrol listened to the Kirlia's pulse. "They didn't want to go, see; afraid of predators. But we told them that, you know, they'd all die here anyway, and they had a better chance of surviving out in the wild." He shook his head, grimacing. "Maybe not, though..."
There was a grim silence as the Retrievers stared at each other. An eerie tingle ran down Sparktail's spine, setting his fur on end; the rain was returning, cold gray clouds drifting across the sun. Glancing up, he felt the wind grow cold and hazy, the chill slowly slipping through his fur.
"Damnit," muttered Shock, glancing up to the sky with crackling blue eyes as Wyrn shivered next to him. "Claws up, arms out! Circle around." Sparktail drew his sword as both patrols gathered in a circle around the three Kirlias, shivering. The Zangoose raised her claws as Wyrn drew his rapier, Sheltur puffing his chest.
A swirling gray fog was forming in the heavy rain overhead. Hot embers bloomed from the sides of the Growlithe's mouth as a Phanpy lifted his trunk to the air, a Poochyena baring his teeth. The Mawile poised her black jaws as Heroc raised his staff, a Chikorita readying her head-leaf as a Plusle hopped up onto Amber's shoulder.
"Get out," snarled Shock as they saw the glowing red lights of Dusknoir eyes emerging from the cloud. Sparktail glanced to the Manectric, surprised; his captain seemed to have lost his restraint. "Get out of my city!"
Mauville's walls loomed over the Retrievers threateningly as the cold fog bore down on the town square. Remembering the grisly sight at Pal Park, Sparktail's thoughts flew to Thalia. Though he was afraid of what the Hexwraiths could do to her, he couldn't help wishing, once again, that she was with him.
And then, disaster struck with blinding speed, faster than Sparktail's eyes could see. One moment, Shock stood strong with the rest of the patrol; the next moment, the Manectric was flung to the ground with a nasty crack. "Sonofa-" yowled Delia, darting toward Shock with wide eyes as Heroc glanced back in alarm.
Clenching his teeth, the Raichu's eyes scanned the swirling gray haze for their mysterious adversaries, but could make out nothing- not the Mauville, not the ones who had attacked Shock, not their leader- nothing but the glowing red lights. Tail lashing at the ground, he leapt forward and slashed down—and was immediately flung back to the ground, his sword splashing the mud a few feet away.
Retrievers sprang forward as they felt the eerie gray mist on their fur, crimson lights hovering within the fog. Blades and claws swished; fire, ice, razor leaves; Sparktail felt around for his sword frantically as the others lashed at the Dusknoirs, shadow-balls bursting open on the ground.
The Raichu heard Wyrn's war cry as the Dusknoirs advanced with deep, ominous voices. Ducking under a Hexwraith's swipe, he thrust up with his sword, feeling the steel tremble as it struck the Dusknoir's shell; but he felt terrified in the fog, unable to pinpoint that weak spot--
"Excellent work, wraiths," hissed a harsh voice that froze Sparktail in place, his teammates glancing sharply to him, the speaker lost in the swirling fog. "Now return to me...!"
"No! Who are you? What's going on?!" he shouted furiously as the fog retreated from the muddy road as suddenly as it had come. He strained his ears for the sound of footsteps, but could hear nothing above the rain; he squinted into the haze, but they had left no footsteps. Sodden and shaking, he was left standing among the weary Retrievers, his sword still ringing.
The mountain breeze was cool in Thalia's fur as she sat in the mountain ledge, staring out over the sprawled, riveting plains. Thin, green tendrils wound down from her paws and slipped into the earth as sunlight warmed her leaves. A few feet away, her satchel waited by a stream trickling through the lush grass and red rocks, torches flickering at the mouth of the cavern behind her.
She shivered. She knew Hoenn was wild and fickle. Why, then, did she savor its scent, when Pokemon turned on each other for sustenance? Why did she relish the glowing, throbbing pulse that filled the air, when predators freely roamed the grass? And yet she could not help but close her eyes and give herself to the spirit of the wind... for even with its blood and terror; there was a beauty in its violence.
The Leafeon shook her head. Violence had forever tarnished Sinnoh, scarred its hills and desecrated its hallowed places. How could this be any different? Surely this must be from the Exile's influence. And yet it didn't have the same feel as Giratina's taint; death did not taste like ashes here, but like rich nutrients, an offering out from the earth and back into the earth--
"No, no, no," muttered Thalia to herself. She took a deep breath. Was she being affected by Giratina's ways? Was she beginning to love violence as he did, desire to kill as he did? No, that didn't sound right. This wasn't bloodlust, this wasn't a desire for wanton violence; she remembered what those were like. And yet Giratina's influence seemed to be the only logical conclusion...
Shifting metal clinks approached from behind, sending tiny vibrations through the earth. "Hey, Thalia," said Ketrail, padding up to her in his new chainmail. Blinking, the Leafeon tried not to laugh; the Zigzagoon looked a bit silly wearing armor, but he seemed comfortable. "Everyone's been looking for you."
"Oh?" Retracting her roots, Thalia glanced back to see Lane and Speedster join them. Like Ketrail, Lane wore a new set of chainmail, saber tucked neatly into a leather belt. Speedster, however, wore a plain brown scarf tucked neatly under his cream neck-fur. All three Pokemon looked satisfied.
"Speedster thought the chainmail would slow him down, so Torrid made him a 'speed scarf', whatever that is," said Lane, depositing a pair of swords at the Leafeon's paws. "He seems to like it, though. Here, Torrid fixed up your blades."
The Leafeon's jaw dropped as she saw her blades, each ever-so-slightly curved towards the notched tips, pommels ridged with steel. Setting a paw beside Shensing, she bound it to her paw with a vine- the balance was a little off, but she'd get used to it. Securing Hador to her other paw likewise, she grinned while Ketrail secured a pair of scabbards to her back, lashed into an X. What would Sparktail say when he saw the new swords?
She gave them a few test swings, noting the added weight. They'd been light as feathers before, but were now heavy enough for fuller, stronger arcs. Sheathing her blades, Thalia glanced to Lane and Ketrail. "I like what Torrid did with them."
"Interesting sword names," said a voice from the cave entrance. Blinking, the Retrievers glanced back to see Insyte padding out into the sunlight, followed by Shanala and Marrow. "In ancient legend, Shensing and Hador were warriors from Unova."
Lane, Ketrail, and Speedster all stood at attention as the three Vulcanites approached- not out of fealty, of course, but out of respect. "Hello, Insyte," greeted Thalia, bowing her head as well. She tried not to sound nervous, but the Flareon seemed very different from the friend she remembered. "So, ah... how've you been? Looks like you've been keeping well."
Marrow gave Thalia a look, as if he didn't find her tone to be properly respectful, but remained silent. "I've been well," said the Flareon while Shanala went over to the stream for a drink.. "Listen. The Red and Blue Orbs went missing around the same time when Shock's patrol left. Do you know if Sparktail had anything to do with that?"
Lane rolled his eyes while Marrow and Shanala frowned at Insyte, but Thalia's heart skipped a beat. Busted. "What makes you think that...?" said the Leafeon numbly, staring guiltily at her repaired swords. She ought to admit everything. This mountain was where Groudon slept. This mountain was where the jewel in her pack belonged.
Blood throbbed in her ears. Not only her heart, but all the feral hearts of the land. For an instant, a strange fury filled her. No. She couldn't give the Orb to Insyte. "Sorry, can't help you," said Thalia, turning her back on Insyte. "And I wouldn't if I could." She didn't know why Sparktail stole the Orbs. Why he gave one of them to her. But this was between him and her.
Ketrail, Lane, and Speedster stared at the Leafeon as Insyte and Marrow exchanged uneasy looks. "Well, we greatly appreciate Torrid's gifts, sir," said Lane, giving Thalia a sharp look while he shook Insyte's paw. "Thank you. I think we'd best be on our way now."
"Don't forget your things," said Shanala calmly, gesturing with her tails to the Retrievers' packs. "Do take care out there, all of you. Give our regards to Shock. It's a wild world out there." Grabbing her pack, Thalia slung it onto her back and headed out, grinning to herself.
She shivered. She knew Hoenn was wild and fickle. Why, then, did she savor its scent, when Pokemon turned on each other for sustenance? Why did she relish the glowing, throbbing pulse that filled the air, when predators freely roamed the grass? And yet she could not help but close her eyes and give herself to the spirit of the wind... for even with its blood and terror; there was a beauty in its violence.
The Leafeon shook her head. Violence had forever tarnished Sinnoh, scarred its hills and desecrated its hallowed places. How could this be any different? Surely this must be from the Exile's influence. And yet it didn't have the same feel as Giratina's taint; death did not taste like ashes here, but like rich nutrients, an offering out from the earth and back into the earth--
"No, no, no," muttered Thalia to herself. She took a deep breath. Was she being affected by Giratina's ways? Was she beginning to love violence as he did, desire to kill as he did? No, that didn't sound right. This wasn't bloodlust, this wasn't a desire for wanton violence; she remembered what those were like. And yet Giratina's influence seemed to be the only logical conclusion...
Shifting metal clinks approached from behind, sending tiny vibrations through the earth. "Hey, Thalia," said Ketrail, padding up to her in his new chainmail. Blinking, the Leafeon tried not to laugh; the Zigzagoon looked a bit silly wearing armor, but he seemed comfortable. "Everyone's been looking for you."
"Oh?" Retracting her roots, Thalia glanced back to see Lane and Speedster join them. Like Ketrail, Lane wore a new set of chainmail, saber tucked neatly into a leather belt. Speedster, however, wore a plain brown scarf tucked neatly under his cream neck-fur. All three Pokemon looked satisfied.
"Speedster thought the chainmail would slow him down, so Torrid made him a 'speed scarf', whatever that is," said Lane, depositing a pair of swords at the Leafeon's paws. "He seems to like it, though. Here, Torrid fixed up your blades."
The Leafeon's jaw dropped as she saw her blades, each ever-so-slightly curved towards the notched tips, pommels ridged with steel. Setting a paw beside Shensing, she bound it to her paw with a vine- the balance was a little off, but she'd get used to it. Securing Hador to her other paw likewise, she grinned while Ketrail secured a pair of scabbards to her back, lashed into an X. What would Sparktail say when he saw the new swords?
She gave them a few test swings, noting the added weight. They'd been light as feathers before, but were now heavy enough for fuller, stronger arcs. Sheathing her blades, Thalia glanced to Lane and Ketrail. "I like what Torrid did with them."
"Interesting sword names," said a voice from the cave entrance. Blinking, the Retrievers glanced back to see Insyte padding out into the sunlight, followed by Shanala and Marrow. "In ancient legend, Shensing and Hador were warriors from Unova."
Lane, Ketrail, and Speedster all stood at attention as the three Vulcanites approached- not out of fealty, of course, but out of respect. "Hello, Insyte," greeted Thalia, bowing her head as well. She tried not to sound nervous, but the Flareon seemed very different from the friend she remembered. "So, ah... how've you been? Looks like you've been keeping well."
Marrow gave Thalia a look, as if he didn't find her tone to be properly respectful, but remained silent. "I've been well," said the Flareon while Shanala went over to the stream for a drink.. "Listen. The Red and Blue Orbs went missing around the same time when Shock's patrol left. Do you know if Sparktail had anything to do with that?"
Lane rolled his eyes while Marrow and Shanala frowned at Insyte, but Thalia's heart skipped a beat. Busted. "What makes you think that...?" said the Leafeon numbly, staring guiltily at her repaired swords. She ought to admit everything. This mountain was where Groudon slept. This mountain was where the jewel in her pack belonged.
Blood throbbed in her ears. Not only her heart, but all the feral hearts of the land. For an instant, a strange fury filled her. No. She couldn't give the Orb to Insyte. "Sorry, can't help you," said Thalia, turning her back on Insyte. "And I wouldn't if I could." She didn't know why Sparktail stole the Orbs. Why he gave one of them to her. But this was between him and her.
Ketrail, Lane, and Speedster stared at the Leafeon as Insyte and Marrow exchanged uneasy looks. "Well, we greatly appreciate Torrid's gifts, sir," said Lane, giving Thalia a sharp look while he shook Insyte's paw. "Thank you. I think we'd best be on our way now."
"Don't forget your things," said Shanala calmly, gesturing with her tails to the Retrievers' packs. "Do take care out there, all of you. Give our regards to Shock. It's a wild world out there." Grabbing her pack, Thalia slung it onto her back and headed out, grinning to herself.
"Shock, you okay?" cried Delia, prodding her brother with a paw urgently as the rain gradually subsided. Heroc and the others stared at the unconscious Manectric as the Clefable medic examined his pulse. "Come on—you can do this—we've gotten this far—"
The Manectric gasped in pain as she touched his hind leg, eyes flying open in panic. "Sprained," murmured the Clefable as Amber gave a worried cry. Sure enough, every time Shock moved his right hind leg, pain flashed on his features. "Heroc—he'll have to stay with us—"
"But he's our leader!" protested Delia, rounding upon the Clefable angrily. "We've only got three nights before the Magmortar blockade closes. We can't afford to slow down!"
"He's in no shape to travel like this," replied the Clefable firmly. "What would happen if your brother arrived at Sootopolis to defend it, only to discover that his leg had lost all use and would need to be amputated? I know medicine, but even under my care, he'll be spending five days, no less—"
Pity welled up in Sparktail as he stared at the wounded dog; he felt ashamed of all the times that he was frustrated with Shock. Why hadn't he been more respectful? Shock just tried to do his duty, even if it hadn't always seemed like it.
And now they were moving on without him, leaving him in the care of a Pokemon they barely knew... Wait. Was there another person who could help Shock? "Kyria," muttered Sparktail.
The Zangoose-whose-name-he-didn't-know seemed to have the same thought. "Maybe there's someone else who can help him," suggested the Zangoose, stepping forward, looking Heroc in the eye. "There's a Gardevoir up at Verdanturf, her name's Kyria. I don't know about medicine, but her skills... they're almost like magic."
A strange look passed over the Clefable and the rest of Heroc's patrol. "Kyria's alive? At Verdanturf?" uttered the Breloom, blinking. He looked back to the three Kirlias, all still unconscious. "Yes, perhaps she can help; and not only with Shock, but with these three..." He smiled grimly. "Who's the fastest one here?"
The Retrievers all exchanged glances. "I am," said Amber after a moment, stepping forward; one part of her was embarrassed, the other part challenging anyone to doubt her claim. "What do you need?"
"Run to Verdanturf, and fetch Kyria," said the Breloom, propping his staff up like a walking stick. "Between her and Clarise here..." He nodded to the Clefable. "Shock might be able to heal in time for you guys to reach Lilycove to meet the Skarmories."
Staring at Shock, Amber nodded, then turned and dashed off to the west gate, toward her home village. As the Pikachu vanished behind glass doors, Heroc sighed and glanced to Delia, who still looked very troubled. "Don't worry. He'll be fine. Once he's healed, you'll be able to hurry toward the coast—"
"Wait." Shock's voice was pained but grim; Delia and several others glanced to him in alarm. "Don't stay here, Delia. Take the others. Take them away from here. Away from the Hexwraiths. I'll meet up with you when my leg's better. You'll be meeting up with the Retrievers from Lavaridge soon."
Thalia. Sparktail's heart pounded. Thalia and the others, that was right; they'd see them soon. "This is crazy," said Delia, shaking her head. "How will we do this?"
"There's two roads." Shock tried to sit up, then cringed in pain and slumped on the ground. "Past the East Mauville River, there's two trails. One leads north through Fortree, then east toward Lilycove. It's longer but easier terrain, better for larger parties. The other—"
He took a deep breath. "The other runs south of Fortree, and meets up with the north trail near the East Fortree Lake. That route's shorter, but rougher terrain. Better for small parties. Amber and me will walk; Kyria and these three can levitate." He gestured to the Kirlias, then looked back up at Delia.
Both patrols stared at the Manectric, stunned. "No, no," said Delia, shaking her head. "How are you going to get up the rough terrain on that leg? And suppose they don't fix you in time? Besides, if you have those three awake... that's not really a small party, is it?"
"Don't worry about that," said the Manectric, smiling grimly. He looked up to the Clefable, who trembled. "Kyria... Clarise... I'm sure they'll fix me up, long enough to get to Sootopolis. And telekinesis will help us up the ridges, especially if we can get the Kirlias awake." He shook his head. "And if not, well... I'll find another way to Sootopolis... I promise."
The Manectric gasped in pain as she touched his hind leg, eyes flying open in panic. "Sprained," murmured the Clefable as Amber gave a worried cry. Sure enough, every time Shock moved his right hind leg, pain flashed on his features. "Heroc—he'll have to stay with us—"
"But he's our leader!" protested Delia, rounding upon the Clefable angrily. "We've only got three nights before the Magmortar blockade closes. We can't afford to slow down!"
"He's in no shape to travel like this," replied the Clefable firmly. "What would happen if your brother arrived at Sootopolis to defend it, only to discover that his leg had lost all use and would need to be amputated? I know medicine, but even under my care, he'll be spending five days, no less—"
Pity welled up in Sparktail as he stared at the wounded dog; he felt ashamed of all the times that he was frustrated with Shock. Why hadn't he been more respectful? Shock just tried to do his duty, even if it hadn't always seemed like it.
And now they were moving on without him, leaving him in the care of a Pokemon they barely knew... Wait. Was there another person who could help Shock? "Kyria," muttered Sparktail.
The Zangoose-whose-name-he-didn't-know seemed to have the same thought. "Maybe there's someone else who can help him," suggested the Zangoose, stepping forward, looking Heroc in the eye. "There's a Gardevoir up at Verdanturf, her name's Kyria. I don't know about medicine, but her skills... they're almost like magic."
A strange look passed over the Clefable and the rest of Heroc's patrol. "Kyria's alive? At Verdanturf?" uttered the Breloom, blinking. He looked back to the three Kirlias, all still unconscious. "Yes, perhaps she can help; and not only with Shock, but with these three..." He smiled grimly. "Who's the fastest one here?"
The Retrievers all exchanged glances. "I am," said Amber after a moment, stepping forward; one part of her was embarrassed, the other part challenging anyone to doubt her claim. "What do you need?"
"Run to Verdanturf, and fetch Kyria," said the Breloom, propping his staff up like a walking stick. "Between her and Clarise here..." He nodded to the Clefable. "Shock might be able to heal in time for you guys to reach Lilycove to meet the Skarmories."
Staring at Shock, Amber nodded, then turned and dashed off to the west gate, toward her home village. As the Pikachu vanished behind glass doors, Heroc sighed and glanced to Delia, who still looked very troubled. "Don't worry. He'll be fine. Once he's healed, you'll be able to hurry toward the coast—"
"Wait." Shock's voice was pained but grim; Delia and several others glanced to him in alarm. "Don't stay here, Delia. Take the others. Take them away from here. Away from the Hexwraiths. I'll meet up with you when my leg's better. You'll be meeting up with the Retrievers from Lavaridge soon."
Thalia. Sparktail's heart pounded. Thalia and the others, that was right; they'd see them soon. "This is crazy," said Delia, shaking her head. "How will we do this?"
"There's two roads." Shock tried to sit up, then cringed in pain and slumped on the ground. "Past the East Mauville River, there's two trails. One leads north through Fortree, then east toward Lilycove. It's longer but easier terrain, better for larger parties. The other—"
He took a deep breath. "The other runs south of Fortree, and meets up with the north trail near the East Fortree Lake. That route's shorter, but rougher terrain. Better for small parties. Amber and me will walk; Kyria and these three can levitate." He gestured to the Kirlias, then looked back up at Delia.
Both patrols stared at the Manectric, stunned. "No, no," said Delia, shaking her head. "How are you going to get up the rough terrain on that leg? And suppose they don't fix you in time? Besides, if you have those three awake... that's not really a small party, is it?"
"Don't worry about that," said the Manectric, smiling grimly. He looked up to the Clefable, who trembled. "Kyria... Clarise... I'm sure they'll fix me up, long enough to get to Sootopolis. And telekinesis will help us up the ridges, especially if we can get the Kirlias awake." He shook his head. "And if not, well... I'll find another way to Sootopolis... I promise."